[Thancred closes his eyes a moment, taking in a slow breath and letting it out. Steady, he tells himself. He can endure whatever is going to happen here.]
Of course, though I fear you have already somewhat hampered my ability to do anything particularly fun.
[He can see where this is going, and it makes his stomach sink and his face go another shade paler. He wonders, briefly, if he could still manage a kill.
Hm. If Absinthe is about to get very distracted, perhaps he can. But it won't be right this second, so he's not going to let that thought even make his fingertips twitch.]
[There's another disgusted shiver, and Thancred is very carefully keeping his eyes away from what's happening.]
I would prefer if you burnt for an eternity, but in lieu of that... Whatever satisfies you is the goal, yes? I will warn you, you have little to despoil with that line of torment. I am anything but pure.
[Be he will still feel horrible and gross so like, does it matter? No. He's just kind of shitting on himself for lack of better option.]
[ -- he laughs, mocking as his hand curls around his cock. ]
Worry you not -- I was never under the illusion a rat like yourself would be pure.
[ again outside of Lahabrae's insults he really doesn't know Thancred's backstory or anything. anything not-Baritones is just falling under the "unworthy piece of shit" umbrella sorry buddy. ]
[ You enter the laundry room. The floor tremors, shaking in a perpetual earthquake with all the machines rattling. Inside machines clothes tumble and shine, sequins and cheap polyester shines and reflects, tossed in with sheets that under the perpetual ultraviolet of Liar Hell tell a history that any hotel would prefer to hide. Cabinets full of chemicals hang above the rolling drums of the machinery, to hide or in the worst case dissolve away the worst of the patron’s sins. The rumble jostles them, and some bottles precariously teeter at the edge. Some bottles have already spilled on the floor, hardly improving the experience of walking through a room already always in motion.
Near the exits are stacks of freshly pressed hotel staff uniforms, each with a matching set of perfect, spotless gloves. Besides them, a grate to a wall incinerator, which has been wrenched completely off. The room is, as a result, rather warm.
In front of it is Lucifel, covered in blood and what might a little bit look like zombie rot depending on how bad Absinthe's body looked after he was killed. A chainsaw sits near the incinerator, bloody and with chunks of flesh; Lucifel himself is in the middle of tossing a chunk of flesh into the incinerator. The clothes on the body have long been disposed of, already burned, but idk, maybe these bodyparts might look familiar. ]
[ guess who was just casually strolling to the laundry after his respawn for a fresh new set of clothing -- just in case -- and, well!
he stops as he enters. at this point he's re-zombied due to dying without getting a proper meal in there after, the ichor mirroring the ichor dripping from what Absinthe bits haven't been tossed into the incinerator yet. ]
[ You enter the Nightclub. The room is dark, lit by roving colorful spotlights in hypnotic patterns and occasional strobe effects. The darkness, how crowded it is, and the relentless beat of the music almost make it feel claustrophobic, but there’s also an electric, alluring sort of energy running through the whole place.
The DJ, across the dance floor, wears an ornate masquerade mask that feels like it should be in some metallic filigree but is instead done in neon purple. Or was it orange? Every time you look back, the room seems to shift and swirl around you, too…
Strange—there's a familiar white-haired person here, it seems? He's swiftly walking east, likely right toward you, to go for the door, looking a little pale. ]
[ he tips his head back for his mouth but doesn't let him stop that pace over his cock, hand running up and down it -- it's slow, indulgent as the rest of his actions, in no mood and no need to rush like he had during the game. ]
[The indulgent pace genuinely has him panting against Absinthe's neck. Something incredibly pleasurable about feeling that lack of urgency really. And he slides one hand down between them, passing over Absinthe's chest to tease his erection with his fingertips, more just to feel him up than anything.]
[ ah - - and that is nice, something electrifying about how Lahabrea pants against his skin, his breath hitching, free hand settling in his hair as he slowly jacks him off.
he's obviously hard against the other man's fingertips, too, and when he feels the contact he shifts upwards, a silent demand for more. ]
[That feels quite good, really, Absinthe reacting genuinely along with the wordless demand. His lips curl against the juncture of Absinthe's neck and shoulder and he bites softly, as his own fingers wrap around the man properly, thumb grazing over his head as he returns the touch with a slow, leisurely pace of his own.]
Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 02:23 am (UTC)Well and duly noted.
[ he shifts the hand with the knife upward, now, to Thancred's hips; though he doesn't stab downward quite yet. ]
You are aiming to keep me entertained, I hope? Who knows what I may do if I become too bored with you.
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 02:44 am (UTC)Of course, though I fear you have already somewhat hampered my ability to do anything particularly fun.
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 02:47 am (UTC)[ maybe not the intent behind Thancred's words, but he'll point that out regardless.
he moves the knife and works it through the cloth of his pants, baring bloodied skin as he peels them back. ]
But you can, at least, put on a show -- no?
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 02:52 am (UTC)Hm. If Absinthe is about to get very distracted, perhaps he can. But it won't be right this second, so he's not going to let that thought even make his fingertips twitch.]
...I suppose I can.
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 02:57 am (UTC)he drops his bloody hand to Thancred's thigh, then, skimming it upwards between his legs, though his focus is mainly on his face right now. ]
Tell me, then ...
How do you prefer I partake of you?
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 03:04 am (UTC)I would prefer if you burnt for an eternity, but in lieu of that... Whatever satisfies you is the goal, yes? I will warn you, you have little to despoil with that line of torment. I am anything but pure.
[Be he will still feel horrible and gross so like, does it matter? No. He's just kind of shitting on himself for lack of better option.]
Re: Betrayal 3: Traitor Only Session
Date: 2020-08-28 03:08 am (UTC)Worry you not -- I was never under the illusion a rat like yourself would be pure.
[ again outside of Lahabrae's insults he really doesn't know Thancred's backstory or anything. anything not-Baritones is just falling under the "unworthy piece of shit" umbrella sorry buddy. ]
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From:LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 06:54 am (UTC)Near the exits are stacks of freshly pressed hotel staff uniforms, each with a matching set of perfect, spotless gloves. Besides them, a grate to a wall incinerator, which has been wrenched completely off. The room is, as a result, rather warm.
In front of it is Lucifel, covered in blood and what might a little bit look like zombie rot depending on how bad Absinthe's body looked after he was killed. A chainsaw sits near the incinerator, bloody and with chunks of flesh; Lucifel himself is in the middle of tossing a chunk of flesh into the incinerator. The clothes on the body have long been disposed of, already burned, but idk, maybe these bodyparts might look familiar. ]
Re: LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 06:57 am (UTC)he stops as he enters. at this point he's re-zombied due to dying without getting a proper meal in there after, the ichor mirroring the ichor dripping from what Absinthe bits haven't been tossed into the incinerator yet. ]
You've been busy, have you?
Re: LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 07:01 am (UTC)smiling a little, though it doesn't reach his eyes, and he stops, briefly— ]
Though it seems my efforts were for naught. Hello, Absinthe-san.
[ —before picking up another chunk to toss it into the fire. ]
Re: LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 07:04 am (UTC)[ he watches him, curious. ]
Have you found the grisly aftermath of one of my deaths, here?
Re: LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 07:06 am (UTC)[ tosses another piece in. '-' ]
Re: LAUNDRY
Date: 2020-08-29 07:07 am (UTC)Did you happen upon Thancred, by chance ... ?
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From:NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 05:03 am (UTC)The DJ, across the dance floor, wears an ornate masquerade mask that feels like it should be in some metallic filigree but is instead done in neon purple. Or was it orange? Every time you look back, the room seems to shift and swirl around you, too…
Strange—there's a familiar white-haired person here, it seems? He's swiftly walking east, likely right toward you, to go for the door, looking a little pale. ]
Re: NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 05:10 am (UTC)[ guess who ~~ happens to be in the doorway, along with Cosmo! ]
Re: NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 06:38 am (UTC)Good day, Lucifel.
Re: NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 06:43 am (UTC)i hate this. ]
. . . Good day, Lahabrea-san.
[ pointedly! ignoring! absinthe! ]
Re: NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 06:49 am (UTC)Re: NIGHTCLUB
Date: 2020-08-31 06:51 am (UTC)[Sighing.]
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From:278 night
Date: 2020-09-03 05:26 pm (UTC)[ well he's more than happy to provide!
he wraps his hand around his cock at last, squeezing tight, thumb running over his tip. ]
Re: 278 night
Date: 2020-09-04 05:40 am (UTC)[He lets himself sigh in pleasure, arms heaving on Absinthe's shoulders as he leans in to lightly nip his neck.]
Re: 278 night
Date: 2020-09-04 06:15 am (UTC)Re: 278 night
Date: 2020-09-04 07:29 am (UTC)Re: 278 night
Date: 2020-09-04 07:36 am (UTC)he's obviously hard against the other man's fingertips, too, and when he feels the contact he shifts upwards, a silent demand for more. ]
Re: 278 night
Date: 2020-09-04 07:48 am (UTC)Re: 278 night
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