ercookies | TDM 008: A WALK IN THE THEME PARK

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TDM 008: A WALK IN THE THEME PARK

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.

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I. SIX FLAGELLANTS

Welcome, one and all, to a thrilling new location! Robots have worked tirelessly to build, from the ground up, what can only be recognizable as an amusement park. You are just in time for the grand opening of Six Flagellants: Great Advagtures!

The Ferris Wheel routinely stops when lovebirds reach the top, waiting for a kiss - or something more daring! - before it starts up again.

Robots warn of the scary Haunted House: a dark building with wall-to-wall creeps, and hot and cold running chills. Flickering ghosts roam the halls, and you may find an eerily realistic Headless Horseman -- who bids you, "Come closer. Give me head," while pointing to yours. Hey, get your mind out of the... Nevermind.

The Carousel is a two-story affair. Nude figures with familiar faces lounge about, waiting to be ridden, and closer inspection proves that they have the faces of your fellow islanders. Hop on your favorite person and take them for a spin!

There are even Bumper Cars, which have the interesting effect of making one feel more aroused with every bump and impact. (It's randomized each time, so don't try to guess based on car color!)

What should be a similar ride, the Teacups, has the robots' madness written all over it instead. They have misunderstood the gentle spin-cycles for dangerous, dizzying loop-the-loops across a wide track. Some would swear that the ride has a supernatural invocation for fear. Others are simply man enough to admit they're afraid.

Lastly, the Tunnel of Love is not what you expect. Although flavored lube and guides to cunnilingus are on each fleshy-log-shaped boat, the motion of the ocean is quite soothing, and there's a pleasant floral scent in the air that causes a light intoxication.

Don't forget to try the food! Similar to the Street Kiosks, there's a ton of faire food: cotton candy, corn dogs, and the like.

Mascot outfits are available and those who wear them will be rewarded generously with credits.

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II. LIKE A FIREWORK

The next morning, you receive a message on your device: You are cordially invited to a celebration of skinship at the House of Worship. Please do not dress for the occasion.

If asked about it, the robots will confirm that is not a specific holiday, but a simple joyous event. If you pry, they may even say that the Old Ones often made merry and partook in the pleasures of the flesh - and so too should you.

For an hour, there will be food and drink - alcoholic and aphrodisiac. Then, at the designated time, once the sun has gone down, clothes will be shed and a revelry begun.

As fireworks explode overhead, the different colors send the naked senses reeling:

Red: You are amorous towards the people around you. Yours is a joyous celebration. The Auspicious Acts you offer are happy and lighthearted, full of kisses and sweet nothings.
Orange: You feel bold and adventurous, eager to try something - or someone - new. Your preferred Acts may be dangerous or exciting, perhaps with more than one person.
Yellow: You feel reverence when you watch the fireworks, reverence when you look at your fellow people. You feel blessed to be part of the celebration at the House of Worship, and you make the Acts you complete into Acts of worship. You are all about the spirit of generosity.
Green: You are not here to celebrate. Jealousy is your lot. Uncover a new side of yourself, full of bitterness and resentment, and try an Act that treads the fine line between light and dark.
Indigo: You are proud to celebrate! Those around you are lucky to bask in your presence. You have a newly-minted domineering attitude that makes itself known, and your Acts are likely to be something where you'll come out on top.
Violet: These fireworks make you feel unusual - the opposite of yourself. You are different in all that you want to do, preferring Auspicious Acts that you may not have thought twice about before.

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III. MISTLETOE

mistletoe

sensory deprivation

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N A V I G A T I O N

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[Bull chuckles and pushes away from the wall to follow him. It takes him a minute to actually get down on the ground - it's a long way to go - and as he settles, he stretches out his left leg, still in its brace. He breathes a heavy sigh once he's all the way down, then takes a deep drink from his cup. The wine is good, better than what he was drinking before.]

So, what should I call you? [he asks as he looks at the smaller man, absently admiring the horns. It's been a while since he's been around anyone with another set, and the ones the tiefling is sporting remind him of ones that are increasingly common around Par Vollen.]

[It's not the sort of thing Oran would have drunk a few months ago, but he's had some very convincing peer pressure, and so now he's enjoying the near overpowering taste of mulled spices against sour tannins.

It catches him rather by surprise when he's asked for a proper introduction.]

Hmm. I'm not sure yet. That depends on how much you want to watch the show.

[A few moments ago he'd been rather adamant that he didn't want to be caught up in the Augur's wiles and yet... even as that thought settles in somewhere in the back of his mind, it's impossible not to hood his lids at the big man. How hard would it be to climb into his lap and distract him from the fireworks entirely?

Oran does so without a second though, careful not to put any weight on the leg in a brace. He sets his mug down to one side in order to trace the lines of some of those paint-like markings... not unlike some paintings he'd been given a few days ago. Even if his are long-since washed off, it's a draw.]

What do you want to call me?

[Bull smiles as the young man gets closer to him, easing into his lap to get better access to the vitaar painted on his skin. Some of it has flaked off, but the patterns are still bold and clear. He slides an arm around the tiefling's waist, gently trapping him where he is.]

Your name, [he answers.] I'd like to call you by your name.

[He could make something up, he's given out nicknames before. But he'd rather know something real.]

[The arm around him feels good, a warmth that traps him nicely against a body that looks ripe for draping across. Oran's never been with a bigger partner before and... yes, he's definitely thinking that far ahead. Hadn't a moment ago he been thinking something else?

But, no, there are patterns to trace, and more importantly, he's being given a reminder to speak up. He brings his hand up to the man's chin, cupping it briefly before he traces at the rough stubble there. Envy... mild, but present at that strong jaw.]

My name is Oran, though I should ask for one in return. They have a certain power here, you know.

[They do not, but Oran enjoys lying on occasion and this is a harmless fib, even a flirt if the man catches his drift...]

I'm the Iron Bull.

[His eye is bright as Oran suggests that names have power. In a way, he isn't wrong. But Bull also suspects that Oran is making things up as he goes along. His fingers stroke down the tiefling's back. He's enjoying the easy touch, the hand on his jaw and on his shoulder. It's been hard to really relax since he got here, despite appearances to the contrary. But this is nice.]

What kind of power do they have?

[He'll play the game.]

Hmm... a kind of magic, Iron Bull.

[He can't resist, he has to try it out. What a name... but the man stands up to it at first glance and first sit. Oran laughs, but he adds,]

I admit, I'm no onomancer, but I like that one. And... and...

[He furrows his brow, something in the back of his mind tickling at him for restraint. He doesn't care for that right now, however; whatever the fireworks have done to him, it is thoroughly full speed ahead, and he drapes himself over the man's chest to butt his horns up under his chin, tail curling possessively around him.]

Anyways, I may just hold onto it for an hour or two. You're new, [he adds, rationalizing his need for that overeager possessiveness, the heat warming him over despite the cold air and the ridiculous lack of dress code.] So that makes it my job to keep you safe. And show you the ropes.

Not a lot to divine from it, [he admits.] Had to pick something when I started living around humans.

[Bull smiles as Oran buts up under his chin. His other hand comes up to run along the tiefling's horns, admiring the shape of them. They're familiar in a way that he hasn't had the chance to experience in a while. He's been around a handful of other Tal Vashoth, but he generally avoided them.]

Show me the ropes, huh? That could be fun... I'm good with knots.

[Oran pauses, and laughs, and then reaches across for his mug so he can take a sip.]

Truly? I'm afraid you'll regret saying that sooner than later.

[He likes that Bull has picked his name, but he's not about to admit to a stranger that he, unlike other tieflings, very much inherited his name from his foster family. Not on a night like this when that is baggage he has happily put behind him.

More, Oran feels a flush shoot through him at that admission, and he struggles not to grin too brightly. He's hopeful that Bull isn't going to be offended by someone who's got a different cock, given they're both far from human... but that might be putting the cart before the horse.

Oran sets his mug back down and repositions himself on Bull in one relatively smooth motion. Conveniently, he's settled in to swivel his hips in a playful suggestion, tail curling idly around them both.]

What do you like? I want to make you feel good. Fireworks, all that.

[Even under their influence, he's aware of the pure aged cheese of that pickup.]

[Bull slides his hand over the base of Oran's tail. It's a new feature for him and he's curious.]

Hm...

[He tips Oran's head so he can kiss his neck, finding his pulse point and lingering there for a moment. He lets his teeth scrape gently.]

I like making my partners feel good, [he admits. It isn't even a line: it's true. Oran is flustered and it's pretty cute. Bull tugs Oran a little closer after that little shift of his hips, eye bright as he slides his hand along Oran's thigh.]

[He gets the texture of oddly smooth ridges along that tail, the upper half covered by plates regularly spaced with divots and interlocking nodes.

Oran, more than anything else, shivers at that confession, a noise slipping out as he feels teeth along his throat.]

Ha... then you're in luck.

[He's used to being able to get a better grip on a partner but he's realizing very quickly that Bull is not the kind of person he can push around, so rather than nudge his head to one side, he rises up a little to try him for a kiss. Doing that, he properly straddles the man, and when he pulls back for air, he makes a low noise of appreciation. There's so much space to sprawl, and he spreads his arms to prop his hands against Bull's shoulders, taking him in, grinning.]

You're already doing admirably. I like doing the same...

[And then he waffles, annoyed to have to admit, but feeling it worth noting,]

I've never been with someone like you. I want to be, though...

[Bull helps Oran to keep his balance as he moves to straddle him. Not an easy feat, but Oran seems up to the challenge. He's easy in the kiss, tasting and teasing until they break apart again. The confession catches his attention and he looks at Oran more closely.]

Someone like me? [he prompts, wanting an answer. There's a lot of things that could be referring to and Bull wants to be clear on exactly what is new to Oran. It will guide how this goes.]

You're big. [By way of demonstration, the tiefling pats his chest. Gods, but his hands feel narrow against all that. Again... a little bit of envy, but maybe that's because he's feeling all pent-up. He traces the lines of that decaying paintwork again, lip held between his teeth as he shifts again, grinding back as he looks the man in the eye.] I want you.

[Not his most eloquent speech, but he's feeling it, now, and strongly. A thought comes back to mind suddenly, and he finds himself fixated on it: knots... and not the kind that Oran is worried about being a surprise once he drops his pants--because they will be dropped, eventually, he's sure of it.

Normally the very thought of being tied up sends a tickle of fear down his spine and weighs down his gut, but now those feel suppressed... reversed, even.]

What did you say about knotwork? I have a rope of mending back at the shop...

[The answer isn't a surprise, but at least it lets Bull know what Oran might like. He's far from the first person to approach the Bull because of his size and he doubts Oran will be the last.]

I'm good with ropes, [he says to clarify. And good is putting it mildly: he has a lot of experience and is confident in his ability to keep his partners comfortable and safe. Well, at least safe. Sometimes discomfort is the point.

He has no idea what a rope of mending is, but as long as it won't break, it could suit their purpose. A smirk tugs at his scarred mouth.]

You gonna make it that far?

[He has no idea where the shop is, and Oran seems... rather excited.]

[A real, important question.]

Don't have to, [he considers,] but we could. You want to lay back and watch the fireworks, or do you want to go for a walk?

[Bull leans close and tips his head to bite gently at Oran's neck.] If you want to be tied up, we'll go.

[And if Oran doesn't mind holding off on that particular ambition, they can stay. But Bull is inclined to be of service, whatever it is Oran decides he wants. Bull wants to make sure he gets it.]

[Normally he wouldn't be able to pass up a scrape along the neck like that, and even now he gives a small noise of utter want and internal conflict. However, bringing a stranger home to bind him up and keep doing that is a bigger draw, so Oran slips off his lap and offers him a hand up. A futile gesture, given the size disparity, but Oran is eager.]

Then we go, Bull. Let's drink and walk.

[And maybe cool down a little so he's not sporting quite such an obvious need. Does he feel a lick of shame at the moment? Not at all, but he is so deeply engrossed with making a new friend that he isn't paying attention to anyone else.

He gathers his things and begins leading the way, tail snagging out and flirting with Bull's legs, almost teasing for him to make a grab.]

[He uses Oran's hand to steady himself, but doesn't actually use him for leverage. He gets up carefully, soon enough towering over the tiefling again. He's impressed that Oran is actually determined to get to wherever they're going.

He entertains the flirtatious passes of Oran's tail before gently catching it.]

Easy there, [he rumbles warmly.] Last thing either of us wants is for me to trip.

[Bull gives the tail a gentle squeeze, absently recalling that Mollymauk mentioned liking that kind of treatment. He isn't about to assume that every tiefling will, though. He lets go after a moment.]

You want me to carry anything?

[Unlike the purple tiefling, Oran's tail is half-ways armored, but the squeeze is more than enough to get him to make a small noise of surprise as it goes all the way up his spine. Called and answered, he supposes, but that warning is doing very little to make him want to stop. Still, he doesn't want to lose Bull's interest. He'll contain himself for now.]

What is there to carry?

[Well, a pack with his things for fireworks watching, but that's a light weight indeed considering what the pack looks like it could be stuffed up to. Oran casts a grin up at his partner of the moment, shrugging the shoulder with the strap. He's feeling too determined to be silly right now, but he does pass over the wine bottle.]

Maybe take a turn carrying this. I think I've had enough... I wouldn't want not to be able to find home!

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TDM 008: A WALK IN THE THEME PARK

00. Arrival

I. SIX FLAGELLANTS

II. LIKE A FIREWORK

III. MISTLETOE

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