kenoslogs | THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION

THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION

BETWEEN UNCONTROLLED ESCALATION & UNENDING PASSIVITY

The moonlit city of Highstorm has always been a tranquil location.

Its people, passionate about the steady leadership of Zenith's leader — Lady Yima — begin their movements slowly and deliberately. Following the lead of their most trusted Shard-Bearers and the word of their Lady, activity in Highstorm begins to increase in the vicinity of Yima's Manor. The Court, the town square outside of it, becomes a hotbed of bustle and voices. Personnel and attendants rush around with documentation, stirring others to action. A select few figures gather the full force of their long-standing houses, calling on family bonds and their own castellans to assist the efforts that build over the course of a few days.

For the tranquility of Highstorm is only ever punctuated by its decisiveness, its faith that their path is the correct one — and now, they will prove it.

In a trickle-down effort, from the most loyal Zenites to the newest, the news unfolds for them: Amos Burton has been tasked by Lady Yima herself to turn the tides back in Zenith's favor. He is to end the life of the 34th Tribune, Cyrus Marcius Germanus Kokkinos, alongside the fortune who have found their way into Zenith's graces. In the earliest hours of the invasion, the figure of Yima herself steps out onto the balcony of her quarters — the highest point of the Manor — with her robes soft around her body and hands extended to her people. Her silence is punctuated by glowing feelings of pride that flow through the hearts and minds of every last sworn Zenite, bolstering their resolve and encouraging them with the cool, ever-flowing might of the people who look to Zenith's Shard-Bearers for their victory.

She sees them off with unspoken sentiments of love, confidence in them — the whispered promises that she knows they are ready to see the war through. And perhaps none of them will know that it is the last time they see her.

For in the sun-dappled sprawl of Springstar, their target awaits them.

The bustle of the city has always been without reservation; the bright and airy attitudes of militant citizenry look on with confidence and celebratory warmth as their Shard-Bearers have brought them to a marginal advancement over their enemies. While Tribune Cyrus's popularity has waned, there are alternative avenues they have begun to explore — the figure of Agapitos Voreen has become deeply popular, with savvy statements, an easy confidence and a willingness to deny Zenith any room to breathe, he is a shoe-in for future Tribune, whenever the next elections are held.

Which is why, in between one moment and the next, the city is rocked by the efforts of their opposition. Zenite-aligned Shard-Bearers and the small house armies of Yima's most loyal core families fill the streets with chaotic distractions, ranging from duels with the Helios Legionnaire to direct attacks on civilians. ( Where does your character draw the line, if they care to? Will it matter in the long run, do they believe? ) Appearing from several Cornerstones hidden within the city's confines from missions long past, tracking the movements of Legionnaires and Shard-Bearers alike from the placement of listening gems and tracking spells, even rising from the bowels of Kowloon to trap the city in a pincer movement — Highstorm goes on the offensive.

Springstar puts up a valiant resistance in return; however, within twenty-four hours, Zenite Shard-Bearers will have hunted down, cornered and slain the Tribune. In that moment, Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers will feel a splitting pain: the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Zenith's swell. The last trickle of emotion from Cyrus for them is a gentle warmth, fondness and forgiveness and the purity of his confidence in them. He believes in them, he always has, and he prays and hopes for their victory even though he will not be around to see it become reality, now.

His death is announced the following day by his assistant Cetina, the deer-morph girl choking back angry tears as she — with a furious and tearful General Ayo Zaman and the somber, mournful figure of Hieropoios Natalia at her side — lambasts Highstorm for the act of aggression, attempts to rouse the city and Meridian's hope, and pledges that she will not let her best friend's murderers escape her vengeance.

Hours after Cetina's message, in the far corner of Highstorm — following the people's celebrations and rejoicing in their strike, the delight in the might of their Shard-Bearers and the renewed passions of their people in pursuit of their victory — a brilliant, golden beam of sunlight pierces the eternal night of the city.

In an instant, the balcony upon which Yima had stood and the rooms beyond it — in fact, the entirety of the Manor, is engulfed in fire and light. The Manor falls, crumbling in upon itself as debris cascades into the living quarters of Shard-bearers and partially topples into the Court beyond. While the Tree of Life, the Reflecting Pools and many businesses around the Court escape extensive damage, the Manor itself is in shambles. And in the wake, many Zenite Shard-Bearers will feel the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Meridian's swell. In the wake of the strike, there is a deep silence within them.

Any attempts to contact Yima are met with the same silence a Shard-Bearer feels when reaching out to another who has left the world entirely. And with that, both sides are left to pick up the pieces and weigh the consequences of their actions.

ADDITIONAL MATTERS

During ( and in the wake of both assaults ), there is plenty for any Unharmonized Shard-Bearers and more moderate Meris/Zenites to partake in. Damage has been wrought to both cities at differing times, and there is a degree of life lost no matter the best efforts of those who value innocents over the price enacted by acts of war.

In Springstar, the citizenry has been ravaged by attacks stemming from the depths of Kowloon: as monsters in the form of both individuals with unusual appetites (cannibals and vampires, for example) and heavily-drugged, superpowered addicts have been finding their way into the city, slaughtering civilians indiscreetly, picking fights with the Legionary, and engaging in general criminal mischief and violence. Following Zenith's assault and subsequent assassination, the city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Zenith-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Zenith! ). After the day of the attack, the attacks drop off significantly, but do not vanish entirely, for now that some have gotten a taste, it will take time for Yura to reign them in once more.

The people of the city turn to their Shard-Bearers in the wake of their Tribune's murder; even though his popularity had waned, it isn't as though his death doesn't affect them! Deeply concerned and frightened for their future, they demand information about what will be done to protect the city from another assault like this? Some civilians will turn to the church, or perhaps community leaders, but it seems very few turn to the legionary, after they were so focused on the attacks that they missed the forest for the trees. Their trust in their military leaders is waning, and they’re looking for answer. Some community leaders have tried to soften the hurt and anger of Springstar’s people, but they look toward those whom were not a part of the current establishment to answers.

In Highstorm, Yima's Manor lays in shambles, but the rest of the city is unharmed. Shard-Bearers who were living in the Manor will find that their living quarters suffered from the collapse and subsequent fires, but any precious items/belongings they had in their rooms can be recovered after sifting through the rubble. One of Yima’s most trusted, Florence, seems to be taking the reigns of control, and while there are still pockets of the manor that remain on the outskirts of the building itself, she encourages any Zenites who had not moved out to move on quickly, since what is left should be used by any newcomers who need shelter, and not those whom have had the opportunity to make bonds, and have allies that they can rely on.

The main issue now plaguing Zenites is the sudden, overwhelming crowd that begins to gather in the Court, demanding information from them about Yima's safety — they are frantic, and rightfully concerned about further assaults of that incendiary degree from Meridian. The city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Meridian! ). The Manor itself is almost entirely destroyed, with only a shell of the outskirts left, and though those who are left are already trying to sift through the rubble, they are often overcome by their sorrow, and it is not uncommon in the wake of Meridian’s destruction to find some of Yima’s most loyal in distress, for the loss of their leader.

A LIGHTHOUSE AGAINST THE ENCROACHING STORM

A few months ago, all current Shard-Bearers experienced a mass dreaming event, full of teeming darkness and a pervasive sense of terror. Following the death of Cyrus and the "presumed loss" of Yima, all Shard-Bearers will receive yet another dream.

This one is a simple, direct thing: rife with a haunting sense of being watched, observed as if from the reeds and brush by a hunter. Whatever your power level, however skilled you are and confident you are in your place, your decisions, your heart will quake before the severe impression of something prowling at your heels. Just out of sight, but never out of mind. Every Shard-Bearer's shard will wrench free of their body upon waking, falling from their physical form as if to flee this sensation of something waiting, patient, for the right moment to pounce.

Echoing in the back of their mind, a wordless, shapeless promise lingers: Forward, or back. Back, or forward. Dart and weave, flit and flutter, scamper and scurry. We are here, now. In the back of every mind, what was in the process of coming before is — it is here, now. Looming right above, waiting for the outcome, watching for which way the last lives at the end of existence will flee.

Upon awakening from the mass dream-become-nightmare, Shard-bearers will slowly become aware of the exacerbation of previous events that have been persisting since October. These events are no longer subtle, and will impact everyone regardless of faction allegiance, with purposefully targeted strikes:

— Darkness has spread within Springstar. Wherever there is shadow cast by person, object or building, it has deepened, darkened, and grown in size. Walking through any shadowed area or touching a darkened shadow will fill a Shard-bearer who enters that area with feelings of dread, of something lingering just out of sight, of danger prickling along their spine, and entice them to run and flee. If they are not quick enough, an unseen entity savages them — aiming directly for wherever their Shard is hidden and held. They are being hunted.

— Light has spread within Highstorm. Starlight and moonlight seem to sear what they touch, leaving patches of bleached-white scars upon person, object or building. Being touched by the light or coming into contact with a white-scarred entity will fill a Shard-bearer with feelings of malaise, like they should simply lay down and accept what comes next. Suffocating hands waiting to pin them down. Even in the safety of the shadows, the scourging glow of any light reaches for them and rakes across their bodies, seeking the place where their Shard is hidden or held. Ravaging them with hot-and-cold burns. They are being sacrificed.

— Shard-bearers readily become lost in familiar places, as if their homes and bastions of safety and security have become strange ( estranged? ) from their minds. The route to that favorite haunt ( perhaps even their own place of business ) eludes them, and searching for it alone becomes an impossibility. It takes another Shard-bearer, at times, to aid them in breaking free of the mild befuddlement. You're just tired. It's just the strain getting to you.

— Citizens of both Springstar and Highstorm continue to speak about neighbors who have 'suddenly moved away', or the disappearance of a favored shop or cafe. Some mention favorite, useful landmarks vanishing, causing them to forget where they are coming from, or where they are going. When directly asked about this circumstance, they shrug and declare that it happens all the time these days. In fact, there's nothing to really be done about it. And if pressed, the citizenry's eyes go glassy and expressions become confused as they ask who, what, where, and why their Shard-Bearer has begun asking them such strange questions. None seem bothered by this strange occurrence, as if all is well and normal.

— Shard-bearers will begin to see familiar faces in crowds, standing on street corners, peering through their private windows, waving them down at their familiar haunts. People from their own worlds, loved and hated alike rush for them — adoring and hostile alike. Family members and friends who seem to attempt to meet their eyes before the crowd swallows them up; loved ones who should be captured in Shards try to flag them down, calling their names and asking them where have you been? what's going on?; enemies and abusers seem to advance upon them, pushing their way forth hungrily. And then they are gone, but not before leaving behind the impression, the strange sensation that, they are real. Really there. If only for a moment.

OOC & (IMMEDIATE) WORLD CHANGES

The full document for this event can be found here!

So, what does the world look like now that this has all gone down?

The world of Kenos ripples from the effects of our players!

Springstar is (mostly) physically unharmed, though the population has been reduced thanks to the number of murders and criminal mischief that has taken place during the attack. Damage seems constrained to things like broken doors and windows, looted property, and murdered civilians, though the severity is up to how many defend Springstar from the concentrated might of Ryad’s regulars, and a practical army of addicts rising from the depths below the city.

The leadership of Springstar is also shaken, though there are procedures in place for this – if one is particularly studious, they will recall that this is not the first Tribune that has been assassinated, though it is the first in a long while – and the Church and the Legionary have stepped in to maintain the peace while elections begin to be arranged.

Cyrus’s body is interred publically at the Church in Heliopolis for a week after his passing, before his body is immolated during a service, his soul returned to the Tree of Life. Those who attend will feel the light of Meridian fill them, and their Discord may be reduced by one level thanks to the warm hope that fills them, even as they despair at the loss of their leadership. Meridian calls to its most loyal, and asks them to do what they do best, show hope and unending resolve, when things look to be their most hopeless.

Highstorm is another story. The destruction wrought is more property, but the number of people who were within the manor is difficult to count until a week or two after the destruction has been evaluated, and cleanup has begun. The loss of life is not devastating compared to what was leveled upon Springstar, but perhaps the most distressing is that Yima is not present. Florence reassures those in Highstorm with her calming, but firm presence.

With few of Yima’s softer adorations to be found, Florence instead pushes the faithful to muster their will and begin the recovery efforts. After all, they have long proven to have faith in Yima’s guidance, and they should believe in it now when it is difficult. It is not the first time their fortitude has been tested, after all.

Her words fill those in Zenith with a sense of calm resolve, and they may feel their distress and discord from this destruction alleviating slightly. Highstorm’s government works smoothly without Yima, and those who are interested in history will be able to see Florence’s name throughout the annals, as one that would guide Yima’s faithful when the matron was in convalescence, or respite. What Zenith does best, after all, is build something new when faced with destruction. Consider this a primer for your new world, to help bring the faithful back from the brink of their despair.

The unharmonized have a choice, as they so often do. This time, however, the stakes appear even higher than before. The cities are not as welcoming as they once were, and those that have not chosen are beseeched by the civilians of both Highstorm and Springstar. ‘Do you not understand what they’ve taken from us, and what they will in days to come? You cannot let this continue, standing on the sidelines. Imagine the ways in which you could help us,’ they beg, and it feels as though your neutrality will become increasingly inconvenient, as time goes on.

What can we expect next?

As the month of Pelu ( aka March ) dawns, you will begin to feel it. Something tugs at you.

Those who have lived through more than one will feel that anticipatory anxiety rise, as the next oracle is coming. Are you ready to fight to claim it, even when it feels so dark, and even when everything feels different, and harder? Do you look to the stars, and dream of your home? Or do you gaze outward, into nothing, and dream of what you will make from the ashes?

Anticipate the oracle in the coming month of Pelu, and to learn more about those that will step into the voids left by Cyrus and Yima.

And as always!

Questions can be directed here!

Individuals less-inclined to busy themselves with either effort, or looking for a way to gain a foothold/explore the world can report here for exploration attempts. We recommend examining the Kenos Wiki's Locations for ideas, if you don't know where to start. Or! Ask someone in the Discord Server for a recommendation, we have long-time players eager to help.

Lastly, remember that Cyrus and Yima will be a little occupied this time around, but anyone who might ICly have reason to contact them regarding the brewing troubles can do so here!

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Dimitri does not question how much is sincere and how much is an act. He certainly won't think to question in later, either. He's simply not used to this or had enough experience nor would he really think about such a thing. Indeed, his whole focus is on the way she sinks onto him and how the slick tightness of her body embraces him. It feels incredibly good, almost beyond anything else he's done, and he lets out a long, low moan as she settles and his hands grasp at her - one cupping her ass, holding her close, as if to brace her - and the other stroking into her hair as he tries (tries) to hold himself in check.

She is cool, yes. But that hardly seems to matter now, does it? ]

Kiritsubo...

[ He sounds a little strained, as if he's holding himself back - and he is. It's almost too much and he just isn't used to it. He twitches inside of her and then there's another low groan and a sharp little inhale as he bites down on the inside of his cheek. ]

It's - overwhelming.

[ He has to admit that. ]

G-give me a moment, please-

[In the clasp of his hands on her, the tense grip on her buttock and the gentler run of fingers through her hair... Kiritsubo obligingly stills, seemingly doing her best to try (try) and hold herself in check.

He is warm. And she wants... She wants that warmth for herself. It had worked the last time, so surely the more they did...]

Of course it is...

[Her voice is gentle and understanding when it whispers out between them, followed by a careful kiss against his brow, his forehead, keeping things chaste as she could in that moment despite the fact that his cock was stuffed inside of her to the base, twitching and hard and perfect for her insides to clench upon in little spurts of pleasure she would claim she just simply could not control.]

If you... If you need to release first... Just do it...

[With inexperience came a predisposition for being sensitive, for cumming early... but she had spells to combat that, whether she would say it aloud or not.]

I'll gladly wait for you... And your...

[His seed.]

It will be warm either way...

I-

[ Ha. She goes and says it and his breath escapes in a low, warm sigh as he tries to keep himself from trembling. Not when her body seems intent on tightening around him again and then again. It's overwhelming - a cascade of sensation and pleasure as his cock nestles a little bit deeper. ]

I... d-don't want to disappoint.

[ He admits that, because it's true. This is partially for her, isn't it? Or entirely in some ways, because he doesn't want to think that he's doing this for himself (even if a part of him is). He shifts his weight again, burying his face against the curve of her throat as his hips hitch up in a little grinding thrust that he can't quite help. ]

It's - too much-

[ Close, close, but he's holding himself back still. ]

[In the face of his honest admission, Kiritsubo... accepts it fully, still without a single ounce of judgement. Her attitude in that moment, despite the lewd fact that she is astride his lap with his cock twitching and near overstimulated inside of her, her stockings ripped and her breasts bare... It is almost beatific.]

How could you disappoint me... ? You... You're the one who-

[The stuttering attempt at a grind or thrust he can't hold back makes her words dissolve momentarily into a hot little whine, tightening around him in a surge of stimulation.]

Who offered to help me... So you won't...

[Her arms go back to his neck, embracing, fingers running through hair as he curls into the coolness of her body longing for warmth. As if he needed to give her some of it first, so that he might have better control for more, for a second or third... Well, if he is concerned about disappointing or perhaps embarrassed over the idea of cumming without her even having "done anything" yet...

She can fix that.]

Just let go... and you can stay inside...

[Until he recovers. Likely... with the help of a subtle little spell of hers. But she won't say that- he's a healthy young man, it will be easy enough to play off. And now that she has urged him... Kiritsubo twists her hips far more intentionally, grinding rhythmically into his lap to try to push him over the worked-up edge with a long, low moan.]

[ Just let go, she tells him. It's hard to resist that. Even harder to resist the way she bears down on him and grinds into his lap. It's too much for him and Dimitri lets out a choked cry, something taut and full of pleasure, as his body falls apart into sparks of heat and everything goes taut for a brief, glorious moment. He twitches inside of her, spends himself with a rush as he fills her up with the heat of his body. His back arches and he clings to her, almost for dear life, his breath coming in a choked little gasp as he tries to re-center himself and get the world to stop spinning.

Everything feels as if it's too sensitive and raw and he mumbles something before he starts to pull himself back together, hips still rocking in light little thrusts. ]

I - I couldn't - oh...

[ His eyelid flutters. ]

That was - you're-

[ Give him a moment. It really is his first time with a woman. ]

[It is not so difficult to ride a wave you can see coming. And Kiritsubo, well. She had a very good eye for this thing. The moment he starts to lose control she is there to hold him through it, place herself in perfect position to be held, stockinged knees slipping on his sheets to slot herself as close to his hips as she could possibly be, taking in every inch of his cock and trying to seal any possibility of escape for his seed, the warmth of life she was so hungry for to try and calm the chill of her Oblivion infected shard. Her breasts press tight against his chest, her shallow little sighs puffing chill along the shell of an ear.

Sounds not of disappointment, but of anticipation.]

Not "was"... "is"...

[She gently chides him for even the slightest possible insinuation that this could be done, or that he had finished and so something had concluded and left her without. Even without her help, honestly, she assumed she wouldn't have to wait that long for a man of his health to return to vigor, but still....]

Ah... It feels good...

[For both of them, doesn't it? Her plush lips turn from sighs to kisses, slowly pressing and nibbling along his head and temple, nipping at the strings of his eyepatch, nuzzling against his cheek.]

Am I warmer now... ?

[She is, just slightly. And not just because of his release, nestled deep and taken by a greedy body. As she asks, her voice a sultry whisper... fingers dangling behind his neck twitch and then begin tracing nonsensical, soothing lines into his skin. Just a bit of sensation... that also doubled as a spell that would encourage his body to return to full mast. Not so quickly that it would seem shocking or impossible... but faster than his body would manage naturally on its own.]

[ It takes a moment for Dimitri's mind to catch up. He's still a little shell-shocked from that. But she's also still close, still feeling delightfully intimate - even if still a bit cool to the touch. He is still buried deep in her and neither of them are making much of a move to change that. ]

It does feel good-

[ He agrees, nosing into her, trying to kiss her skin where ever he can. He's a bit bliss-drunk still. ]

I think you are. Warmer that is...

[ Her voice, the touch of her fingers it all makes it hard to really concentrate. although he's certainly going to notice the way that he's not really... reacting the usual way. He's already possessed of impressive stamina. Her spell is just going to make it that much better for him, honestly. ]

Do you want to keep going...? [ He's putting that together, as if he couldn't tell just yet. ]

You're not - warm enough yet.

[Like a flower that shows its face to the sun in need of its warm rays, she shifts and squirms in his lap to bare her pale skin for each kiss he tries to press to her skin, wanting them to land, to give them a place. And if in doing so she shifts and gently clenches in fleeting pressure around the cock still inside of her, well, that was just a side effect.]

Mmm... I think I am, a little...

[The murmur is husky and low, hopeful and still aroused. Her fingers finish tracing what was actually a sigil but would feel likely just like a whimsical pattern of finger movements, the magic soaking subtly into his skin to get into veins, to travel through the bloodstream, but until then...]

I do... I want to keep going...

[Her hips roll forward, offering a hint of what she could be doing to him, to her, for them.]

Is it, ah... sensitive? Or can I move... ?

[ There's another low, shuddering gasp as she moves and he tries to shift his weight to meet her. Even now, he wants to give back somehow. Even if he's still sensitive and trying to recover from that moment of overwhelming pleasure a few moments ago. ]

It... it is sensitive, but-

[ A hand settles against her hip. ]

You can move. I'll - I can manage.

[ Or so he says. ]

Alright...

[Carefully, mindfully, Kiritsubo shifts to find just the right angle, just the right curve of her spine, bracing her knees and curling her toes in his sheets as she adjusts until... Mmm, there.]

Let me know... All you have to do is say, and I'll... I'll wait...

[But she's hungry. She's needy. She wants the warmth of him, she wants her Discord cleansed, she needs Kiyoami's shard to be safe. And so she begins to slowly shudder and gasp her way upwards, an incredibly lewd, wet sound released between them when she breaks the "seal" of where their hips met, revealing a bit of his cock slick with her desire and hints of his...

Before she swallows him back down, working to make herself a rousing sheathe, to coax him to stay stiff and wanting for her.]

[ Again, Dimitri's breath catches. Again he feels a shudder of pleasure - too much, too intense after his first moment of release - but he's able to manage it with another long exhale as her body shifts and slides against his. She lifts, falls, and his hands cradle her closer. ]

I think...

[ He murmurs and then rocks up to meet her as he feels himself stir all over again, hardening once more. ]

I think I'm ready for you.

[Another woman might exclaim or express her confusion. “Already?” “That quick?” But what Kiritsubo does… is whimper,]

Wonderful…

[Adjusting her brace with one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee, taking a moment from the slow lift and drop of hips to grind back into him, gasping softly as her body (and her spell) urged him to stir and stiffen for her. His passage is so easy now, so slick and smooth, her arousal stoked and some of his own seed already spilt, there’s no need to worry for her, surely…]

Try to match me… make me, mmm-

[Her body tightens and trembles a moment in his clutch, as if encouraging him to hold tighter or be more possessive if he wanted (needed).]

Make me feel you, Dimitri…

[Make her feel warm.

As she begins to ride him properly, earnest but starting slow. Her pace slowly builds… and her breasts bounce along with the movement, the lewd piercing through her right nipple glinting each time the dangling metal piece caught the light.]

[ Dimitri does his best to meet her halfway; to match her. He's not experienced but his natural stamina and strength helps make up for some of that. He can feel her clench around him and the way their bodies come together and it is enough to make him gasp again as she starts to ride him. His fingers clench, his toes curl, and he rises to meet her, the slick, wet sound of their coupling filling the room, the slap of flesh against flesh.

It's not as overwhelming as it was the first time - but it's still enough to make him feel a bit like he's overwhelmed. He noses into the hollow of her throat and groans aloud, her name on his lips as his cock buries itself in her again and then again. He's aware he ought to perhaps do more - but he doesn't feel like he can in the moment. So this will have to do.

At least for now. ]

[Mmmmm... She loved that sound. So base, so simple, so good. And though Kiritsubo would normally demand far more of a lover over time, it was more than enough for her to work with now. The libido of a tanuki was near insatiable, and there has been more than one, more than a hundred nights in her life when she has needed to do the work if she wanted to get off. He's not nearly the worst she's had to tutor.

A moan rolls off her tongue and fills his bedroom, like she'd been trying to be somewhat quiet but could no longer manage. His own breath is heavy and hot on her collar, skittering over the top swell of her breasts, and she carries the curl of him with her as she rises and falls, sinking into a rhythmic loop that freed and swallowed him in turn. That he'd cum in her already makes their coupling messy, wet, her ripped stockings staining and the base of his shaft slick with their needs, but she doesn't seem to care at all. Instead, she is guiding, subtly, but present.]

Dimitri...

[His name, used to rouse,]

There... Oh, that feels- You're so deep-

[Breathy, short little bits of phrase to indicate where he ought to focus, the angle she found most pleasing, the things she liked, all in the husky, wanton tone of a woman in need getting what she needed. And though she could do it as easily as breathing, could shift her body more sensitive or recraft it tighter around a partner, she waits until it comes "naturally" to whimper,]

I'm close... Just a- Just a little more, please-

[ For a first time, it's very overwhelming - perhaps even more so than that first few moments where he'd spilled himself. It's a slick, wet mess - the mix of their arousal and his seed smears against their skin, leaving even more of a mess behind. For all his inexperience he is still willing to try, his breath ragged and panting, his body falling and rising to meet her. He's a quick learner, apparently, as he manages to match her rhythm and his hands clench a little tighter - a hand against the curve of her ass to help guide her (and to squeeze, perhaps, for the sake of feeling her). Another filtered into her hair, tugging her closer as he makes a low moaning sound. ]

You're so... wet and tight-

[ He's babbling a bit. Maybe he an be forgiven.

He angles his hips to find those angles, wanting to please. Wanting to make her the one who comes apart (although perhaps he doesn't stand much of a chance competing with her). He swallows, eyelid fluttering. ]

I w-want you to - I want to help you-

[ He knows just enough to let his hand slide a little lower, down her front, seeking that place where they join, trying to tease against her clit. ]

Kiritsubo-

[Oh. He's forgiven.

Kiritsubo isn't as much of a fan of the somewhat claustrophobic clutch, but she isn't about to fight him on it, not right now, not when she is that close. Also, because the squeeze of his hand on her ass makes her think- mmm, he's strong, if she could coax him out of that shell more she might be able to get him to lift her in the air or against the wall, and that would be more than arousing, but-

For now, she has this, and its enough. Especially when his hand slips down between their bodies, fingers chasing the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex. Before, when he had touched her, she had been chill... but thanks to the cleansing of Discord, his first release, the friction... finally, she feels something like warm.]

Dimitri, I'm g-

[Her words are lost in a series of escalating whimpers, mixed-in gasps, as her hips begin to lose the smoothness to how she bounces in his lap, shuddering in more needy, wanton urge to just thrust down and grind onto his cock, the flick of his finger. She keeps moving, one moment, two moments longer, but-]

I'm cumming-

[She manages the warning before she gives in to that urge, legs spreading lewdly wide on his sheets so that she can take every inch of him, body clenching up and shuddering all around him, head tipping back to cry out in joy...

But also in relief.]

[ Dimitri is a fan of being close to someone it seems. The heat, the warmth, the sensation of being pressed as close as he can get - although there may be something to be said for his lack of experience. After all, he hasn't been able to do much else just yet! Still - he's entirely pleased to feel her (hear her) start to react to his touch. There's a sense of pride there and maybe a touch of relief as her gasps and whimpers all start to blend together and her movements become more ragged. It's difficult for him not to lose himself all over again, even with the benefit of having already spent once. Concentrating on her and on making sure she is pleased helps with that.

His fingers press a little closer, circling and touching with deceptive gentleness and then she falls apart for him. Because of him. She clenches tight, her body goes taut and shudders - and that's maybe not quite enough, but his thrusts are ragged, his breath coming in gasps again as he chases after his own high. He keeps rolling his hips, straining toward the edge once again.

Almost there. ]

You're warm-

[ Part an exclamation of triumph, part of wonder. Then he's there and he can feel himself going again. Another rush of heat and need and want and intense pleasure that his him curling his toes and his thighs tensing, his whole body taut as he tries to thrust deep all over again. ]

[It is not a singular, quick little instant that ends just because she has announced it. She hits the peak, that threshold of pleasure that makes her body clench and her spine arch, shuddering as the sparks race up her nerves, but he, he is still moving, still thrusting desperate for his own conclusion, his finger keep swirling over the sensitive swell of her clit, and oh...

That's what she loved. That moment. That's what she wanted to indulge in, to live in-

Warmth. So warm, so good.

Her cry is followed by another, happily helpless to do anything but accept his own race to the finish, deep and full and making her hips pop wantonly towards his own, eager for all of it- every inch of his cock, the warmth of his seed, the mutual pleasure. She braces as best she can against him, moaning shamelessly as the crest finally begins to ebb...]

Mmm...

[And she is warm and sweat-streaked and shuddering slow and intermittent atop of him, in the curl of his larger body, panting softly with pale lashes fluttering on her flushed cheeks. The hard little ring of her nipple piercing presses into his muscular chest. Her thighs tense and release, her toes have curled up the sheets from the edge of his bed, and her hands... one stops bracing to hold, instead, rubbing up and down his back as she whispers huskily,]

It's not... I don't feel cold anymore...

[Thank the gods. The shard in her isn't cold anymore.]

[ It takes him more than a moment to recover. It's honestly one of the first times he's done this - his experience encompassing a bare handful of encounters - and this one has been far and away one of the most intense. His breath catches and then comes in a ragged pant as he tries to keep his head on a bit straight. It's difficult, especially in the few moments after it all comes crashing down and his whole body feels too warm, too tense, full of an electric hum that he cannot help but savor.

And the moment passes. His body slows, stops, and he simply wraps his arms around Kiritsubo to hold her close, his face buried in against her throat. His breath brushes over her skin as he tries to breathe, his great body shivering as little aftershocks run through him. He is slick with sweat, everything a bit of a mess.

And yet... ]

I'm glad... [ He manages, voice muffled, his grip loosening and his body feeling delightfully limp and boneless as he sinks against her. The metal piercing has been warned by his body heat - and now hers - and does not feel all that uncomfortable pressed into him. It's actually an interesting reminder of her. ]

You... You feel very good... I don't think I want to move just yet.

[Kiritsubo makes no move to hurry him through the crash of the aftermath, content instead to crash down in stages right alongside him. She is not nearly as overwhelmed, but she is far more indulgent in her enjoyment of each sensation, and they can mimic each other despite their differences. He wraps his arms around her and she embraces him in welcome, basking in the warmth of his body and the heat of his cock still full and deep inside of her. Quivering softly still in delight, she lets out a low, soft moan as she shifts and squirms in his lap, clenching in tight little pulses around him and setting off a wet, lewd sound in the process. But she accomplishes her goal, managing to switch from straddling him to wrapping her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind him to keep him close that way just how he held her.]

Then don't...

[Her voice is tinged yet with satisfaction, the relief of cleansed Discord and quieted Oblivion, and there is a sense... almost like a flower opening, as if her communion bond has opened accidentally to bare more of herself to him. Except what is bared... it is little snippets and impressions of fantasies, of images of what could come to pass in the future. His hands, digging in to the curve of her ass, holding her up. Her back the one against the wall, smothered by his needs and his strength. His spine curling over hers, her ankles nearly up above her head as she cries out wantonly-]

Don't move... Stay here in me...

["With me"? Her lips press soft, messy kisses into his hair, breathless air intermingling.]

Keep me warm a bit longer...

["Please"?]

[ Dimitri shivers as she wraps herself around him; as her body clenches tight against his sensitive flesh, made moreso by that moment of heat and pleasure. His weight shifts a little to make them both more comfortable, still dizzy from everything that's come before. He still finds it difficult to get his thoughts in order and it isn't made any easier by the thoughts and emotions and images that flow through their communion. His breath catches and there's an overwhelming sense of being flustered, an undercurrent of unrestrained lust running alongside it. He has admirable self-control, but it's difficult for him to push back against this while he basks in the afterglow. ]

Alright...

[ He mutters, head tilting to press a lazy kiss against her cheek, her chin. He can stay. He can linger. ]

I - yes. For a while longer.

[ Not that he really has anywhere to go. Anywhere to be. Nor does he want to go anywhere. ]

Somehow I feel as if I ought to be thanking you...

[While pretending seamlessly as if it is an accident, a mere consequence of their closeness and her own addled senses, Kiritsubo's images continue to lurk between them in little snippets of sensation and emotion that almost feel real. Like they could be real, if he just wanted them to be. How soft her nipples would be brushing against his in contrast to the hard metal of her piercing. How deep he would be able to thrust if he spread her thighs apart and pressed them into the mattress beneath the weight of each desperate pump of hips. How wet she would on his tongue if he delved between her legs.

But now she is just holding him, her fingers leaving little crescent marks on his muscular back as she nuzzles in, seemingly desperate for the warmth to stay. (For the shard inside of her- perhaps not "seemingly".)]

Me... ?

[As if she didn't know. As if the haze of post-orgasm, she didn't quite remember why he should be.]

Why... ?

[After all, wasn't she supposed to be thanking him... ?]

[ Those images and sensations and imagined scenarios leak through their communion and it makes Dimitri go a little tense again, his body shivering under the heat of her as his mind tries to imagine what it would be like to spread her legs apart and to bury his head between her thighs. To taste her oh-so-eagerly and to be praised for it-

He tries to think. There's a little noise as he noses in against her temple, wanting to give her as much warmth as he needs. ]

You... this is... you gave me pleasure.

[ He's a bit awkward about it. But... maybe that's to be expected. ]

I feel like I should thank you for that.

[They "leak" in like wisps of smoke, accidental and wispy, but oh, they linger, curling and shifting to his own reactions. Because wouldn't he love it if her fingers clutched needily in his hair, the praise he might desire falling from her lips between moans and happy whimpers? Wouldn't it be so lewd, so wonderful, if after he had satisfied her she smiled all too innocently for such a thing and coaxed him up over her, far enough that she could wrap her breasts and lips around his cock and return the favor?

Wouldn't it be warm?

There might be awkwardness clinging yet to the man, but Kiritsubo... She sighs softly, happily, where she still clenches and trembles intermittenly around where he remains sheathed in her body, an unending reminder of how she had welcomed him... and might gladly welcome him again.]

Dimitri...

[It is breathed almost like "Your Highness", but it isn't, it's his name, soft and happy.]

We gave each other pleasure...

[She withdraws from him only enough to let a hand slip up his neck and along his jaw, tipping his head to make sure he was looking at her, that he could see her face flushed with pleasure still fresh, her expression grateful and affectionate. The gratitude, in particular... would be impossible to doubt. Because the shard inside of her... She cared about it more than anything. And their cleansing of Discord, their coupling, had restored its "health" temporarily. ]

And if you keep thanking me... I might feel like I need to show you a bit more appreciation to be worthy of that...

[As if the idea was lurking but she hesitated to ask for more directly, she averts her gaze a moment... but the bright blue of her gaze does come back, her ankles digging in just a bit tighter into his lower back.]

Would you... ?

[Would he... ?]

[ Those alluring images swirl through his head; he imagines he can almost feel the warm embrace of her body and the touch of her lips. The low moans and whimpers seem to echo and there's the ghost of fingers in his hair. It's a little disorienting, honestly, but he tries to focus on the present and what he's meant to be doing now.

Which is, apparently, curl closer to Kiritsubo and embrace the warmth of her body. He meets her gaze as her fingers ghost against his chin. He's still a touch conflicted - not quite sure whether he deserves thanks. Yes, he'd helped, but it feels a little off to be thanked for doing this with her. But... she's different. And he's finding (found) that people have different thoughts and different attitudes toward romance and sexuality.

He swallows as he feels the press of her ankles and her question lingers in the air between them. His hand tightens a little against her side. ]

I... wouldn't want to disappoint in any way.

[ Which is not quite an answer, but it speaks to his feelings. ]

I hesitate to ask for more. [ Or whether he thinks he ought to.

Sorry, Kiritsubo - he's a little polite to a fault at times. ]

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