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TDM 006: SPECTRAL SPECTACLE
| TDM 006: SPECTRAL SPECTACLE |
00. Arrival This time, you come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased. With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a rundown apartment, a tent on the beach, or a bed in the “comfortable” new barracks. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. I. The Dragon's Matchmaking Welcome to the Island, cherub dragons! The auspicious actions of your fellow Islanders have foreseen the reintroduction of dragons to the world. Unlike the hulking, possessive creatures of ancient lore (and recent hot springs), these well-meaning little critters love to help. Their small size and roly-poly frames make them unsuited to laborious tasks, but they will be the perfect companion to any residents who endeavor to pick up a small item, wish for their lunch to be delivered to an absolute stranger, or need a fire started from a tiny, flaming sneeze in their drafty homes. If a cherub dragon sees an Islander they perceive in need of their assistance, they will zip right in and refuse to scram until they’ve done the job! No visible struggles? No problem! The little dragons also love to play matchmaker. Persistent dragons will gleefully nudge together Islanders they believe will have chemistry, and sometimes they aren’t wrong! Of course, even if sparks fail to fly, the dragons’ trilling songs are known to kindle romantic feelings between strangers and long-time lovers alike. II. Ruins While the Islanders have been enjoying their autumn relaxation, the ‘bots of Erku have been hard at work clearing the surrounding forests of dangers for their guests’ safe habitation. If you are of deft hand with monster slaying, forestry, or even just hauling debris and weed picking, the robots will gladly exchange credits for help with reconstructing the recently unearthed mountain temple grounds from the rubble that remains there. Just follow the path of gently glowing mushrooms to the site of the temple ruins. Beware of lurking creatures, grabby plants, and falling rocks!  The temple ruins are tall and breathtaking, despite the eerie chill of the fog that lingers just beyond. Or is it the fog that sends a shiver up your spine? After all, this place was very spiritually important to the original inhabitants of the Island, the robots say to anyone curious enough to ask. Although their own programming does not include religious worship, the Augur believes the restoration of this place to be vital to the continued augmentation of Eros energy. When questioned about the strange shadows that seem to slip from tree to tree, or the unsettling feeling of ghostly hands that seem to nudge volunteers deeper into the grounds, the robots respond with nothing but bafflement. Their sensors detect no unknown organic presence afoot. III. Ritual Islanders who chase those mysterious shadows may find themselves particularly drawn to a structure that lay deeper within the ruins, beyond where the robots have made the most progress. Three sets of crumbling, moss-covered stairs join to form a central platform, which - despite the overcast skies - seems to emit a soft glow. Those who step onto the platform may begin to hear a quiet, compelling voice, which urges them to be free of their inhibitions and to offer their energy to the spirits to be multiplied hundredfold. Visions of naked bodies in the throes of carnal worship dance before the eyes. Those who are especially spiritually sensitive - or perhaps, just lucky - may feel as if possessed by a consciousness that is not their own, and that consciousness is filled with a burning sexual desire. Leaving the platform is an option if alone, but the intense and overwhelming urge to seek companionship will persist until an Auspicious Act is completed. Those who are fortunate to be joined by company within the temple will feel compelled to worship right then and there, no matter the risk of being seen. Within the walls of the temple, Eros energy is enhanced such that any erotic act - big or small - will be enough to break the spell. N A V I G A T I O N |
no subject
Actually, I've been here for [ checks watch ] about two months now.
[ As surprising as that might sound. But since this is Ilsa, and he would trust her with his life (and has before, on missions gone awry), he doesn't hesitate in elaborating. ]
Time is strange, between here and back on the Grandcypher. [ Actually, technically the ship's here too but let's not talk about that. ] There are several of us who've been here for months, though I suspect none of us would be noted as missing back on the ship.
[ Anyway, that's boring so let's not talk about it either! Quite frankly, there's not really a comfortable topic to broach while they stand here at this temple of sin, especially not after he catches sight of the pink tinging her cheeks and the way the tips of her ears flick in irritation. But, once again, he trusts Ilsa to handle things in stride, so he doesn't shy away from addressing that unspoken question. ]
You're not wrong. Most of this island is designed with— [ a flash of annoyance crosses his face as he picks out an appropriately neutral turn of phrase ] intimacy in mind. They don't seem to mind if it's heavy-handed either.
[ hope she's ready 2 bone ]
no subject
Two months?! [ She frowns. She wants to give the theory of how tf this all works much more consideration, but it's hard to think about much of anything other than the persistent urge to be touched. ]
I'd say that's impossible, but none of this should be possible in the first place. I don't doubt you're telling the truth, which means the powers at work here are even more formidable than I'd initially thought.
[ Ilsa is becoming increasingly nervous, restless, fearful of what she may do if they don't find a way to overcome or address their bodies being manipulated. She puts her gun back in its holster, though her hand never wanders far. ]
Eustace. [ She stands up straight, doing her best to maintain a detached composure, brow furrowed as she tries to approach this like she would any mission. He's been here much longer. She hopes he has some insight. ]
What are our options? If we can exit the ruins, will this magic be dispelled?
no subject
He's never been good for reassurance and that's never bothered him, but it bothers him now to know that he doesn't have a good answer for Ilsa—or at least, not an answer that'll put her at ease. They'd largely gone their separate ways after graduating from training, but that departure hadn't erased any of the respect he'd grown to view her with, a respect that compels him to answer her now with honesty.
He sighs, a sharp exhale that betrays his irritation over this entire situation. ]
I doubt we'll be that lucky. It's possible you'll be able to wait it out, but that could take hours.
[ And while he doesn't doubt she'd be able to sit through hours of suffering, it seems cruel to present that as the only option, even if the rest are hardly any better. ]
Historically, the effects have been able to be dispelled with an "Auspicious Act" [ said with a wave to the bracelet resting on her wrist ] though there's no guarantee such a thing will work this time.
[ He can't see why it wouldn't but also. He doesn't trust anything in this place. And Ilsa deserves better than to go through something as finicky as trial and error. ]
no subject
Somehow, it's so much worse being in the presence of someone else. particularly when that someone else was Eustace. ]
Surely they can't expect us to—!
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The lowest of lows.
She wants to leave. Possibly dig a hole and nosedive into it. Yet her legs are made of lead and only want to take her closer to Eustace rather than to safety.
Ilsa is quiet for a long, long moment. Too long. So long she's sure that if she goes any second longer without relief, she will lose her mind. Her nails are already breaking through skin with how tightly her fists clench.
Gravely, and notably not meeting her comrade in the eye: ]
Let's not waste anymore time, then. Do you have any objections to getting through one of these "Auspicious Acts"?
[ Speak now, because the first thing she's doing is letting that holster fall to the ground with a clang. ]
no subject
Does he have any objections to getting it on right here and now? Yes, actually, he has many and all of them boil down to the fact that he really has no desire to disrupt the camraderie that already exists between them. Even if they're both good at compartamentalizing, and even if he trusts Ilsa not to make things weird afterwards, none of it changes the fact that they're both being forced into this by some third party and not of their own volition.
But she's stepping up to the (metaphorical) plate now, the unholstering of her guns practically an invitation dangled in front of him. He convinces himself that it would be disrespectful to turn her down now when she's all but throwing her dignity away, but if he has to be honest, the real reason is because he's just incredibly horny.
Thanks, temple. ]
No. [ But!!! But. Give him a second as he tries to catch that last brain cell sliding right out the door. ] But are you sure you want to do this here? There's bound to be some place more private nearby.
[ Ilsa please...have some respect for yourself. Don't be like this guy and lower your standards to nothing. ]
no subject
Eustace raises a fair point. They've already been stripped of dignity, even before either of them makes first touch. ]
That would be preferable, yes.
[ But this feeling...
She grimaces.
Perhaps she's feeling so deeply affected, so aroused that her core literally aches to be filled, her body to be held by his... because she's always denied herself before. Her body is in a full state of rebellion. She'd always clung to the notion that such intimacy should be reserved for a special someone, not merely to satisfy some archaic biological urge that Erunes had unfortunately yet to evolve past.
Ilsa sighs, once again struggling to put her thoughts (her very muddled, confused thoughts) into words. ]
However, I have to be very plainly honest with you right now. [ And trust that he won't think any lesser of her, even if she thinks the worst of herself at the moment. ]
I'm not sure how much longer I can wait. [ So unless he has a better grip of himself and can drag her there... she'll just get to unbuttoning her top. ]
no subject
But he can't say he doesn't understand the feeling coursing through her body right now, of wanting to throw aside all rational thought to instead embrace a baser animalistic urge. How often has he felt it himself, both while in the skydoms and here on this island? He's feeling it now, as a matter of fact, though after two months, he's learned to temper it to an extent.
Sometimes.
Ilsa doesn't have that same experience, which he can't and won't fault her for, so instead of trying to push her, he simply just agrees, unbuckling Flamek from his back to set it on the ground before pulling off his shirt. No point in wasting any time. ]
Fine. [ Let's do this, babey. ] I trust you'll tell me if I do anything you don't enjoy.
[ Though really, when they get to this point, is there anything that doesn't feel enjoyable? He can already feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the anticipation of being able to run his hands over her silky smooth skin sending another wave of desire pulsing through him.
can't wait to be an ilsa simp in my meta
no subject
[ Ilsa knows Eustace wouldn’t, but for her sanity, it needs to be said. Because surely, this would be a one time thing that both would try to put out of their memory (heh).
The weight of what she’s actually going to do hits her once he offers no more resistance. It doesn’t deter her, but it does appall the objective part of her that tells her she’s being an impulsive fool. She’s doing this with Eustace of all people: someone she’s been careful to remain composed and professional around, because there’s always been a little part of her that still sees him as friendly competition.
So each layer of fabric that she peels off feels like a literal unbearing of her soul, and she shouldn’t worry what he thinks, but she does. But she pummels forward because this is what she’s always done. She is strong. It was merely a physical act. A practical one, she thinks, discarding the rest of her top somewhere near her holster. Any uncertainty or fear she feels has to be carefully kept deep within her, masked by a determination to keep whatever dignity she can.
She works in silence as she pulls down her pants and leans down to step out of them, increasingly unable to not steal glances at Eustace’s exposed body as she straightens back up and is left in her bra and panties.
That’s a mistake.
She is no blushing virgin, having made a few missteps despite her resolve to overcome her heat, but given the nature of her demanding work and her misfortune in love…
She’s pretty close to one.
And unfortunately, she’s staring a little too long, heart thudding loudly in her chest as she takes in every inch of sleek muscle. Some of the scars she recognizes. Some, especially the more hidden ones, she doesn’t. All of them are begging to be traced by her, and despite how frozen in place she seems, she finally walks towards him. ]
no subject
Tomorrow (or even later today), after the curse of the island wears off and rationality overcomes unchecked desire, they'll look each other in the eye and calmly pretend that none of this had ever happened. They're both products of the same harsh environment and the same bitter training, and it's that training that kicks in every time something comes around to threaten the softness buried deep underneath.
He doesn't answer Ilsa, because his answer should be more than obvious - "Of course". Instead, he focuses his attention on unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants, until the both of them are left in the same state of undress. Past the heavy cloak of want that settles familiar against his shoulders lies a single thread of sadness, not for himself but for Ilsa, who surely had expected none of this to happen upon stepping foot on this island. Who deserves none of all that's happening right now in this moment.
Of course, that whisper of emotion doesn't stop him from lifting his hands to settle them against the elegant curve of her jaw and trailing his fingers down the column of her neck and across her collarbones. It doesn't stop him from leaning down to press his lips to hers, the kiss soft for a hint of a second before growing increasingly more insistent. And it definitely doesn't stop his hands from wandering further down her body, tracing over every curve and every healed-over scar. If there was even a hint of romance to all this he'd ask where and how she got each one of them, but unfortunately there's no romance here, only #horny as far as the eye can see. ]
no subject
All of the years they've worked alongside each other, reduced to this. The notion that this is happening is still ridiculous.
None of that matters. All that matters is that she wants to sink into this kiss and yield to his touch, and devour him simultaneously. Tentatively, she runs her hands over the expanse of his back, breath hitching in her throat and her tongue seeking to meet his as his hands roam over her.
Eventually, her hands settle on his waistband, and even now, even with her body screaming at her to get rid of these last barriers between them, she hesitates. ]
no subject
But he's not so far gone that he doesn't notice the way her fingers linger at his hips, holding back rather than pushing forward. Maybe it wouldn't be so strange for any other person, but this is Ilsa standing before him, who he's pretty sure would charge towards the Devil himself without an ounce of hesitation once if she needed to. Indecision has never been her style.
Pulling away, he peers down at her. ]
Do you want to stop?
[ It would be—disappointing, to say the least, to have to stop now, but without question he would rather be stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day than force himself on her. ]
god i can't wait for you to hate me for this tag
Because she does dearly want him. So badly that it hurts her to think about pulling away.
His apparent concern makes her feel something heavy in her chest, but her response is born from the same woman that is strong because she doesn't know how else to be. She looks up, affronted that he would pull away. Not only does she push forward, but she finishes what she started and tugs on his boxers, peeling them off his hips. ]
And then, what? Leave you so that your balls explode? I thought you knew me better than that.
[ Vulgar, and completely at odds with her flushed cheeks once her eyes fall between the other's legs.
He is… impressively sized.
And the truly vulgar side of her, the one that craves that cock inside of her, wants to taste it, too.
Such are the dangers of ignoring her heat for so many cycles— one Erku-flavored mind alteration, and she’s in shambles. ]
… Lie down. [ She says, this time, quietly. ]
15 hours later and i'm still in an immense amount of pain
He finishes what she started once he pulls away, peeling off his underwear until he's left completely in the nude, his erection even more obvious now that there's nothing to hide it. Even with stone, stone, and more stone surrounding them, he doesn't hesitate in doing as ordered, laying down almost all the way except to prop himself up on one elbow so he can still look at her (and ogle her extremely shapely figure).
It's hard to imagine what exactly she has planned, though he can hazard a few guesses, all of which only bind the haze of lust around him even tighter. ]
Anything else?
[ He's hers to command for the time being. ]
no subject
So this is more than fine. Extremely fine, she finds herself thinking, watching his naked body take a few steps to find some appropriate spot on the cold stone floor. All of those years of training and fieldwork have made for a partner that makes Ilsa's stomach flutter, a feeling she has to reign in before responding.
Try as she might, there's no masking the nervousness. ]
No. You're fine as you are. It's a shame we're surrounded by nothing but stone.
[ A shame she really can't keep her libido reigned in until they could find somewhere more appropriate. She actually does feel a glimmer of guilt at that, but it's overshadowed by the sensation of cool air hitting her bare skin making her crave his body heat again. ]
I'm going to sit on your face. Is that alright?
[ Ilsa lowers herself next to him, not yet positioning herself to do just that, waiting for the affirmative. But while she's waiting, she doesn't want to pretend like she can approach this completely coldly, as practical as their actions may be.
She idly runs fingers through his hair, keeping a careful and steady hand as she lowers her touch to frame his jaw. ]
no subject
We've dealt with worse.
[ And he'll gladly suffer through worse for the chance to run his hands through her hair and across her body again, bury his face into the heat of her body as he explores each pleasure point that's been hidden from him until now. His control unravels further as the compulsions of the temple settle their roots even deeper into his body, fingers itching with impatience as he lies where he is, watching silently as she approaches. Even if he can't do anything, he can appreciate the sight she makes, eyes skimming across her naked figure as desire warms his body.
Her question catches him by surprise - it's forward, unabashed - but past the initial burst comes a wave of hunger as his body stirs at the anticipation of having her settle atop him, thighs framing his face as he devotes himself to the sole task of pleasuring her. ]
It is.
[ A surprisingly simple answer that does little to contain his excitement at the prospect. ]
no subject
She truly can't remember the last time she's felt like this. She's felt desire, of course, a feeling that she can't help due to her very nature, but to want to share that desire with someone in particular—
Well, it's evident by the way her skin flushes when he looks up at her, by the way her thighs press together in growing impatience... the aphrodisiac may have stirred her interest, but it's Eustace's agreement that has already made her wet with hunger. ]
Don't disappoint me.
[ She smiles, just a little sly, before shifting to lower herself, oriented so that she has an ample view of his groin, too. She's never done this before, but she's certainly fantasized about it. Her thighs rest against the sides of his face, tense, because despite everything, she's nervous. She's also careful not to rest her entire weight on him.
This also renders her more vulnerable than she initially thought, realizing that she'd just offered Eustace an incredibly personal view. She shivers as she feels the tip of his nose brush against her sensitive groin and his warm breath against her inner thigh.
Despite her attempt to keep her voice level and even a bit authoritative, it's not quite there. Her palms rest against his chest, nails lightly digging into muscle. ]
Do a good job and I'll reward you, as well.
no subject
But he's grateful all the same for the caution she takes in lowering herself, even as his hands shift to assist her, the palms of his hands pressed up against her thighs. ]
As if this isn't reward enough for me.
[ Half of it's the machinations of the temple speaking, his overly-hot body desirous of little more than the opportunity to touch every inch of her and to taste her right to her very core. But the other half is entirely genuine; he's always been a simple man, with wants that have always been simple and few in nature. Food and shelter, the ability to protect both himself and the ones he cherishes the most. And technically, isn't sex one of the simplest desires to exist?
That same desire is clouding his mind now, burning away every last trace of him not wholly devoted to pleasuring the woman currently perched atop him. No time to wonder what this 'reward' of hers might be as he tilts his head ever so lightly, lips parting as he drags his tongue against her clit and between her folds, moving in slow steady motions and applying only the gentlest pressure as he gets a feel for what she likes and dislikes. ]
no subject
But she knows that won't happen with Eustace, and somehow, that makes the compliment feel more genuine, perhaps not wholly motivated by the magic affecting them. It's a good thing he can't see her expression right now, because her face warms and her gaze diverts. ]
Never knew you had this side to you...
[ She inhales sharply and tries to steady herself, already feeling as if she may have gotten in over her head at the feel of Eustace's mouth pleasuring her. Already, a small, pleading moan escapes her lips, making her feel slightly self-conscious at how easily she's beginning to crumble.
She rocks her hips further against his lips, seeking out more of his tongue, breathing growing ragged as every little lick sends a shiver down her spine. She's cautious enough not to crush him, still holding on to a bit of restraint. ]
Harder... please. More pressure... [ She'd suggested this position initially because of the power it let her keep in this situation— but she's quickly finding that perhaps she was misguided in that respect. ]
no subject
But that's decidedly what he thinks of her now, in the midst of other more expected things like attractive and arousing and why the hell did he wait so long to do this? (For very good reasons, that's why.) Every sound of hers tugs at his fraying self-control, turning him even more pliant in her (metaphorical) hands. 'Harder' she says and harder he quickly obeys, tongue pressing against her most sensitive spots with even more insistence than before. But not continuously; every now and then he breaks to press kisses against the inside of her thigh and to graze the very edges of his teeth against her folds. His hands have minds of their own too, thumbs grazing against the soft skin every so often.
Ultimately though, he's guided by her wants and not his own desires, taking his cues by the changing inflections of her voice and the way her muscles tense around him. ]