[Closed] Why Is It Always The Matches First?

Old Rose Harbor is Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld.
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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 42
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
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Race: Galdor
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Writer: Raksha
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Fri Jun 21, 2019 8:53 pm

Intas 39th, 2719
OLD ROSE HARBOR| EVENING
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“I make a habit of following pretty things, yes, though this musician stuff appears it is becoming some what of a theme. Not that I’m complaining.” Elias said with a drag of his cigarette, letting his gold rimmed gaze bleed from the well dressed redhead to the dead end alley that they had ended up in. Slowly letting the smoke escape his lips, the Bastian raised a cautious brow.

“Already? Oh you delightful creature. If I wasn’t wallowing in self pity, this would be slow for me.” His eyes wandered back to the guitarist as a warm thumb brushed over his cheekbone, dragging a smirk from the wreckage. He waved a hand in a ‘go on’ sort of gesture, leaning back slightly whilst finishing his cigarette to watch the Anaxi show off what could probably be considered some rather impressive physical prowess. Taking the time whilst Kit was away, Eli dragged his hands through his curls again, taming them into rougish waves. He breathed on his hands to warm them up, spliff caught between two fingers, before turning to lean with his elbows on the banister and watch lazy smoke rings roll into the air above him.

Turning to look over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps taking the stairs at speed, the tispy brunette chuckled, finishing his cigarette and flicking the butt away into the dark.

“And here I was thinking you’d lured me into some dead end alley to have your wicked way with me. A shame.” He said with a wink, before following the taller man like a stray puppy, shamelessly happy to slip the all too familiar mask of the socialite over the sad tragedy that was his true face. He’d been wearing it for six years, he could most definitely wear it for another night at least.

Especially when delightfully attractive musicians were buying him drinks.

As promised, the establishment aforementioned was upon them, and Elias couldn’t help but be impressed. It was…well it was almost like a little bit of Vienda decided to set up shop in Old Rose. He nodded with a quick smile at the large doorman, letting his gaze roam the interior as they moved through it. Somewhat well kept, definitely popular, and containing alcohol—the place was just what the doctor ordered.

Watching his companion remove his jacket and loosen a few buttons to the comparable warmth of the bar, the Bastian slipped into his own seat, admiring the line of his aristocratic throat and the hint of a sharp clavicle before it was hidden away by the rest of the shirt.

Oh, but the Anaxi was quite a lovely thing.

“Oh, I do love a good wine, but you had me at peach brandy.” Eli rumbled, undoing the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them up to his elbows to allow himself some relief as his body adjusted to the warmth. As the drinks were ordered, the dark haired man leaned back in his chair, one leg crossing over the other and an arm slung over the backrest. He let his green and gold eyes roam without restraint over all that the galdor had to offer, gesturing lazily at the ring.

“Rather lavish for Old Rose, is that from an old flame perhaps? Or just for appearances?” As the guitarists order was brought over, the galdor took his own drink with a nod, leaning forward in the chair again and raising the glass to Kit in a mock toast.

“To pretty musicians and the wonders of alcohol!” He said in a formal tone, Bastian drawl heavy in his voice before he took a long deep draft of the beverage. Coughing slightly against the burning in his throat and behind his nose, Elias made a sound of delight.

“By Hurtes flaming mane, that is very strong. I love it.” The brunette said with a laugh, taking another large mouthful and wincing at the experience.

Gods, he needed this.

Placing the glass down, resting one elbow on the table top whilst turning the glass gently back and forth, Eli's wide grin faded slightly into more of a sultry half smile. He glanced up at Kit again, gesturing with his pinky without removing his hand from the drink.

"I will have to return this favor one day, when I find my fortune again." As the young man admired the way the other gollies shirt exposed just enough lightly tanned skin to let the imagination wander, the pipe arrived. It smelt earthy and rich, mixed with curious powders that allowed the opiate infused smoke to come out in vibrant hues of magenta or green, depending on what layer it burned through. Politely waiting for his gracious host to take the first toke, Elias took the end and breathed deeply, the small ember in the chamber keeping a steady heat on the consumable drugs.

Inhaling, the Bastian lifted his chin, eyes closed and breath held as the narcotics absorbed into his bloodstream through his lungs. With a too easily practiced movement, he all but sighed the thick now-fuscia plume from his body, leaning back on the chair and humming with relief.

“Ohh wow...” He exclaimed in a breathless whisper, lifting his head and looking at Kit with a sharp high pitched laugh.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to regret doing that or not, but by the Pantheon...” The brunette laughed again, handing over the pipe to the Anaxi.

word count: 949

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Kit
Posts: 49
Joined: Fri Jan 04, 2019 1:03 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Foxing
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Wed Jul 10, 2019 9:56 am

39th Intas | Evening
The bosom of Old Rose
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"Brandy it is. The Limnermist, thank you," Kit nodded to the server, holding up two long fingers before turning back to his companion, unashamedly enjoying the way the other golly draped himself over the plush seat.

"This old thing? It was my grandfather's...a gift on reaching my majority." He turned the ring on his finger, considering it wryly. "I suspect it was meant to remind me of my responsibilities. Somehow I can't seem to bring myself to part with the thing, no matter how low I sink."

Solid gold, a simple band that thickened to form the seal plate. A practical ring, an heirloom from a galdor family that prided themselves on still treading the cobbles no matter how high their rank, notched where his predecessor had famously punched out a notorious confidence trickster. It chafed at him but he still couldn't let them go.

The server returned with their drinks, sweeping in with their silver tray and sweeping back out again with a polite nod, practised and unobtrusive.

Elias took the opportunity to toast, making Kit chuckle at his choice of words.

"To the fallen, if they can't rise again they can at least enjoy the fall."

He winked, taking a drink from his own glass and relishing the rich burning flavour.

The Bastian's reaction to the drink made him laugh out loud, rocking back in his chair.

"Naturally darling, did you think I'd skimp on you?"

"I will have to return this favor one day, when I find my fortune again."

Kit took another swallow, drawing a thumb across his lower lip to catch a spilled drop.

"I'll hold you that. I expect excess and debauchery. Oh, here we are…"

The musician loved the pipes they offered here, and they had a delightful policy of only serving them in a closed booth- after the boy handed it over, he drew a curtain behind him when he left, a gauzy, shimmering thing that nevertheless curtailed the spread of the pungent smoke that Kit drew hungrily into his singer's lungs. He held his breath for a few seconds, and when he let it out it was as a long, shuddering sigh.

"...oh, yes...perfect."

The taste was spiced and heady, and he felt everything just… loosen.

"There, lets see if this improves your evening even more," the golly quipped lazily, offering his companion a taste.

He watched as Elias tried it, smiling at his obvious pleasure.

"Tonight is not a night to concern yourself with regrets and possibilities. Tonight is just about…"

...another draw, another breath, another cloud, lips pursed just so to send it spinning into a ring that expanded and dissipated to join the haze already forming above their heads.

"...now. This ...mmm...this moment. Whatever we can clutch from the dark waters that is bright and shining and distracting and magical. Speaking of which," he added, leaning forward to pass the pipe back, "what are you doing all the way over there, hmm?"

He crooked an eyebrow at the younger man, blue eyes caching green, his voice softening to a lazy murmur as he settled back in his seat.

"Forcing me to exert myself, so ungentlemanly."


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
word count: 581
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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 42
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
Topics: 1
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Raksha
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Thu Jul 11, 2019 7:52 am

Intas 39th, 2719
OLD ROSE HARBOR| EVENING
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Elias smirked as the other galdor laughed, admiring the curve of his throat as he rocked back in his seat, drawing his tongue across his lower lip and biting it gently as his gold-rimmed gaze followed the Anaxi’s thumb sweeping across his mouth. Meeting delightful blue eyes, the Bastian broke away from his admiration as the serving boy brought their pipe, watching the curtain as it was pulled over to shield the rest of the patrons from their indulgences.

“Excess and debauchery, I’ll be sure to make note of that.” The dark haired creature chuckled quietly, throwing back another deep sip of the brandy as Kit sampled the pipe. Taking the offered pipe, Elias relished in the taste, head laying on the back of the chair and eyes closed, adam’s apple bobbing as he hummed his appreciation.

"Tonight is not a night to concern yourself with regrets and possibilities. Tonight is just about…"

The Bastian leaned over the table, handing the pipe to his counterpart, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he listened to the guitarists wisdom. Sitting back, he watched the colorful smoke ring as it curled upwards and outwards, dissipating in a halo over their heads. It was beautiful, magic without the mona, almost like one of the tricks the witches performed in the streets. Eli raised his glass again with a laugh.

“To now! To this moment and to distraction!” He proclaimed, before gulping a mouthful of the rich fruity liquid and placing the nearly empty glass down with a growling sort of sound and a cough. Reaching for the pipe, Elias paused at the question, his broken field pulsing slightly and blood rushing in his ears. Taking the thin metallic mouthpiece, the green-and-gold eyed galdor stood, lifting the end to his lips and breathing deeply as he shifted around the table towards the auburn haired man. Settling down again, the Bastian’s crossed legs drapped over Kit’s, his free hand moving to curl around the back of the Anaxi’s neck.

“I do apologize, my good sir. How could I forget my gentlemanly manners?” The brunette rumbled, turning his head to let a stream of turquoise smoke escape him, before turning back to curl two fingers past the pipe to rest on a tanned jaw and draw the man closer to press his lips firmly against his. Taking his time, Elias inhaled heavily through his nose, brushing his tongue over the curve of Kit’s lower lip before drawing back slightly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all clocking evening.” He breathed, before bursting into intoxicated almost hysterical laughter, having another toke of the pipe between giggles. Holding it out for the tanned musician, the younger man let his free fingers stroke down between the loosened fabric of Kit’s shirt, following them with his eyes and smirking again.

“Plays the guitar and talks poetry? Mister Edevane, you are a lovely breath of fresh air.” The galdor sighed, letting the alcohol and the drugs permeate his system, another chuckle slipping out. His cheeks glowed, both with heady intoxication and tangible desire, heart drumming against his sternum.

word count: 561
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Kit
Posts: 49
Joined: Fri Jan 04, 2019 1:03 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Foxing
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Tue Jul 16, 2019 3:34 pm

39th Intas | Evening
The bosom of Old Rose
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As the Anaxi had hoped, Elias took full advantage of his rather unsubtle hint and now Kit had a lap full of elegant limbs and a rather guttered but extremely attractive face scant inches from his own.

"...oh, yes. Much better…" he breathed, leaning into the kiss, fingers threading through dark curls

“I’ve been wanting to do that all clocking evening.”

"Is that so? Your self-restraint is admirable."

He laughed softly, tongue between his teeth, as the other golly giggled almost uncontrollably. It could have been unattractive, but for some reason it simply fed his own amusement.

“... you are a lovely breath of fresh air.”

"And you, Mister Mercucianno, are a delightfully merry drunk. Besides, a singer who can't shape words to his whims as well as his notes is a poor master of his trade. And there is plenty more where that came from, I assure you…"

Eloquent as Kit remained, there was no doubt that he was feeling the effects of brandy and smoke, a delightful numbing, a loosening of inhibitions- not that he had that many to begin with- and a reluctance to consider consequences.

The fingertips trailing down his open shirt collar left a tingle in their wake, and after another breath of sweet, thick smoke, expelled up once more in a swirling plume of fuschia, Kit bent his head to nip gently just below the curve of the Bastian’s angular jaw, pipe hand dangling over the man’s shoulder, his other sneaking over one knee and under the other where Elias’ legs crossed over his own.

A silhouette drifted into view beyond the curtain.

"Edevane, if I come in there and ye've got yer hand down someone's trousers again, ye're membership is officially rescinded."

Kit's face creased with silent laughter, and he gave Elias' leg a gentle squeeze before holding up both hands in innocent surrender as a blond head ducked through the curtain.

"M' club is-"

"- ‘ne a tumblehut’. I know, Dorian."

The tsat raised an eyebrow, arms crossed sternly over his neat crimson waistcoat.

"I mean it Kit, ye're on fair thin ice."

The golly bit his lip in contrition, wide blue eyes meeting grey.

"I'm sorry. Best behaviour, I promise. You could always join us…" he patted the plush seat at his side invitingly. "Keep an eye on me in person?" The irrepressible musician flashed the proprietor a disarming grin.

The wick rolled his eyes, tucking a stray golden curl behind one ear.

“Some’ve us have jobs, Kit. Ye keep on trying though, mayhap one o’ these nights I’ll say oes.”

He reached over to pick up their glasses. Kit blinked.

...when did I finish that…

“Two more, gentlemen?

The galdor turned to his companion.

“What do you think, Eli? Another, or…”

The musician let the unfinished sentence hang in the air, eyes sparkling with mischief.


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
word count: 529
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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 42
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
Topics: 1
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Raksha
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Tue Jul 23, 2019 9:28 am

Intas 39th, 2719
OLD ROSE HARBOR| EVENING
Image
E​​lias chuckled again at the use of his last name. How many seasons had it been since someone called him Mister Mercucianno, let alone with such a glorious smile on their delightfully handsome face. He rumbled a groan of anticipation as Kit graciously accepted the compliment, tiptoeing fingers over warm skin as his gold rimmed gaze lifted to watch the fantastical plume of smoke roll away like the breath of some mythic beast.
​​
​​ “More? Well Kit, it would be just plain rude were I not to see even more of what you have—“ His voice caught in his throat, eyes fluttering slightly at the gentle nip of teeth and the direct shift of a string calloused hand, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of the musicians shirt.
​​
​​ “—what you have to offer Good Lady.” The brunette breathed, holding the Anaxi’s gaze with an unmistakable wanton stare, field physically slanting unevenly at the voice from the curtain. He pouted when Kit drew away with the most delicious amusement on his face, moving to sit on the chair properly rather than the other man’s legs, elbows on the back of the chair and eyes glancing through thick Bastian lashes at the proprietor.
​​
​​Glancing between the galdor and the wick, Eli leaned to grasp the pipe, puffing gentle wisps of aquamarine and chartuse as his head felt so very far away from here. He found himself thinking of pale hair and quartz skin again, and rubbed a hand over his face before focusing on the red head again with a ridiculous giggle. Oh dear, but that was distracting that lip between those teeth. Eli couldn’t help the rush of heat that ran across his scalp and crawled down his body, craving another chance to kiss the handsome guitarist.
​​
​​Why was it always musicians?
​​
​​ “Two’s company but three’s a party, yes?” The golly drawled in addition to Kit’s commentary, looking the wick over slowly with a mischievous wink. When Dorian declined, Elias made a sound of disappointment, almost missing the question raised in his direction.
​​
​​Eli.
​​
​​The familiarity of the shortened name sent a momentary chill up his spine, and he couldn’t help the pulse of something in his field. It felt hollow, lost, angry. Were he sober, or perhaps not so desperate to make the bad things temporarily disappear, he might end everything there and then. His mother called him Eli. His father, and Leandrah too.
​​
​​And Xavier.
​​
​​Instead he blinked, looking firstly at the empty glasses before looking to the Anaxi. A slow, almost predatory smile crosses the younger man’s face, and he chuckled.
​​
​​ ”Or…we could explore the other…perks of the Rose?” Elias suggested, his words slightly slurred at the very edges as the combination of alcohol and narcotics thrummed in his veins. In a not-so-innocent mockery of the older man, the Bastian pressed his lower lip between his teeth around a wicked smirk.
​​
​​ “I think a bit of exercise, to get the blood pumping, it can really enhance the effects of the pipe.” He purred, knee bumping against Kits, uncaring if he made Dorian uncomfortable at all.

word count: 560
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Kit
Posts: 49
Joined: Fri Jan 04, 2019 1:03 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Foxing
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Tue Aug 06, 2019 6:33 pm

39th Intas | Evening
The bosom of Old Rose
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Gods, he’d found a needy one. Kit took a moment to wonder exactly what Elias would have let him get away with had they been left just a little longer...

"Oh dear. I think," the older golly purred, "I shall have to get you out of here before Dorian really is forced to make me…” ...fingertips drifted down to trace light spirals over the knee nudging so...expressively against his own… “...persona non grata." His attention shifted to the wick who still stood, glasses in hand, eyebrow raised.

“We’ll be off. Thank you, as always, the service has been impeccable.” He rose, expecting to be lightheaded, and managed to stay steady on his feet, with just the gentlest sway. His companion, however, was not so fortunate, and Kit caught the Bastian as he staggered, pulling Elias tight against his own hip.

“Easy there, darling,” murmured the musician. “Let’s get you some night air…”

...and...exercise…

He moved to walk out of the booth, but was stopped by Dorian’s hand on his chest.

“Oh, yes. Put it on my tab, there’s a good man.”

“I’ve ne let ye have a tab in months, ye moony bastard.” An elegantly shod foot tapped impatiently until Kit sighed, dropping a handful of coin into the outstretched hand.

“If you didn’t run the best parlour in town…”

“Mm, ye do keep comin’ back. I must be doin’ somethin’ benny.”


Kit laughed, blowing the well-dressed wick a kiss as he shepherded Elias out through the club, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

"Go on with ye. Have a good night, boys.”

The door swung closed behind them, and the warmth and chatter were abruptly cut off, leaving the two galdor back in the cool, salt-scented night air of the harbour.

They had moved barely two buildings away from the comfortable haven of Dorian’s when Kit slowed to a halt in a quiet little nook where two buildings of mismatched sizes caused the street to dogleg. Sheltered from the wind, and still glowing from the pipe and warmth of the building they’d just left, he let the hand on the other golly’s waist slip just a little lower as he pulled him firmly into his own chest.

“Lets try that again, shall we,” he breathed, dropping his jacket to tilt Elias’ mouth to meet his own. Pressing his advantage, the musician nudged him back against the wooden wall with deliberation and a gently invasive tongue.

“...so…” Kit murmured between the press of warm lips, “...what kind of...mmhm...exercise...did you have in mind?”


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
word count: 482
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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 42
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
Topics: 1
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Raksha
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Tue Aug 13, 2019 8:32 am

Intas 39th, 2719
OLD ROSE HARBOR| EVENING
Image
Giggling like a first form, Elias stood with Kit, the motion far too fast for his inebriated mind. The Bastian staggered, tipping backwards the way he’d just come, when a firm hand caught him and tugged him close against an unyielding hip. He groaned, resting his arms around broad shoulders and leaning without shame against the other galdor, stumbling into a walk only to be stopped short by the wick before them.

Watching the back and forth between Dorian and Kit, Eli blinked heavily, swaying slightly on his feet as though standing upright was becoming a far more difficult task. His gold rimmed gaze glanced at the glitter of coins passing hands, and grinned at the wick as he bid them farewell.

“And a glorious eve to you too, Mister Dorian, my good sir.” The lavish creature said with a roll of his hand and a bow that turned into more of a topple, catching his feet with Kit’s aide and a peel of laughter. All but tumbling out of the warm club into the freezing Harbor air, Elias let his laughter fade into a bemused hum, walking close to the other man to share his warmth. The red haired Anaxi slowed suddenly, guiding hand around Eli’s waist dropping lower as he dragged the brunette close against him. The disgraced Staticmancer caught his breath, eyes drifting to the gentle peak of Kit’s mouth before the taller man pressed a hand to his chin to tilt his head slightly, capturing the Bastian in the warmth of another kiss.

A soft grunt escaped Elias as his back met the firm wooden wall behind him, parting his lips to invite the heady kisses of the older man, returning them with heated passion. His hands had shifted instinctively to cling to Kit’s shirt, feeling the play of taught muscles against the backs of his knuckles. His broken field pulsed with a woosy sort of sensation, laced with desire and lust, cheeks flushed with warmth even in the chill of the Intas air. Letting his eyes slip shut, the Bastian breathed heavily, feeling the hot tickle of the Anaxi’s breath against his lips as Kit muttered between them.

“Well…I thought perhaps we could…uh…we could take a nice walk, find a place with a decent bed and uh…” He brushed his nose against the other mans as he opened his eyes, dragging his mouth against Kit’s in an urgent plea for another kiss, one hand brushing against the rough fabric of the musicians pants with a gentle growl of appreciation, before curling around his hip with a tight press of eager fingers.

“…see which Kingdom has the most stamina. Bastia, or Anaxas.” Grinning, Elias tilted his hips, arching into the red head with a soft sigh and a mischievous look. He was far too intoxicated to play at coy word games anymore, and the Anaxi had responded in familiar ways that were too welcoming to ignore. Too comforting in their destructive delights. Like a moth to the flame, the younger creature embraced the feelings, chasing the distraction that the delightful guitarist provided.

word count: 556
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