?

Log in

((Anonymous comments are disallowed))

((Owing to excessive quanboobies of spam, I've had to disallow comments from non-registered Livejournal users.))

We Know this Game

"Don't tell me you're too blasted myopic to see this. We've known each other too long," Suitov told me. He still had his fingers wrapped delicately around my shoulders and I... didn't feel like pulling away just now, ok?

"And 'this' would be?" I said, looking lazily over his shoulder.

"Don't be cute, Pounce. You've been heartachey and pining and too shy to admit it." He released one of my shoulders and tapped me on the nose. I let him win that one and turned to meet eyes the colour of room-temperature steel.

Aching heart or not, I can be plenty insouciant when I want to, and of course I wanted to. "Even if I have been," I said, "are you suggesting you know why?" I looked away for a moment, brushed a speck of dust off his sleeve.

"Oh, I think we both know what's been going on," he said, which made me look back to him in a hurry. Seeing the look in his eyes I thought, ok, so maybe he does know. Then again, maybe he thought I had Instarrian space flu. No need to leap into his - to conclusions, I mean, leap to conclusions.

Slinking a step nearer, I tilted my head and said "Then if you think you know how I'm feeling, I suppose you'd better tell me how you're feeling."

"Well, if you're asking me," he said, "I feel like making a full commitment the like of which you would not see from any other man." Which made no sense wait a minute.

I froze for a moment, wriggled out of his grip and stared at him. "My lord, are you rickrolling me?"

Suitov gave me a devilish grin; his warm steel eyes caught the light. "Never," he said.

"I hate you," I told him, and when he reached for me again I let him hold on this time.
The Poaladin came up to Weft and intoned "I am now sure you are my destined love and my God intends for us to always be together"

Weft whinged "You mean all that rampant sex was you not being sure? You said you loved me"

"Yes" boasted the Palodin "sorry but you are a stupid ho so what do you expect!!!"

"I hate you!!!" yowled Weft.

"Too late I prayed to God and now we are married." Informed the Paliadin.

Weft puzzled "But I haven't even said I Do"

"Now you have" the Paladium crowed. "Now you are my wife now for ever"

Weft's eyes flahsed "No" he corrected "YOU are MY wife!!!"
When Jaina walked in on Weft strangling her boyfriend, the first thing Weft said was "Sssh."

This was enough to make her look again rather than immediately fling a stake into his wiry hide, much as she would have preferred the alternative.

Suitov was sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, slumped upon a bureaucratic nightmare of political orders piled high on his desk. Weft shifted his hands a little further down to work on the shoulder muscles. Suitov's forehead, knotted even in sleep, smoothed itself out.

"He's only just fallen asleep," Weft said in pre-emptive defence.

"How long?" said Jaina, knowing Weft would interpret that one correctly. She kept her voice low in deference to her boyfriend's utter lack of sense when it came to admitting mortality.

"Only five days," said Weft.

She partly blamed herself. It was most of a week ago that she'd sent Suitov word that she was about to pay a visit. Then, with perfect timing, Denver had hit the fan and she hadn't had a spare moment.

"I ambushed him from behind when his guard was down," Weft added with dark humour that Jaina felt was in exceptionally bad taste. Everything about Weft was in bad taste except his dress sense, and he'd had his hands on her Ice for far too long.

"Okay, Kittenboots, I'll take it from here," she said, nodding him firmly out of the way.

Weft eyed her and didn't move. "That's not necessary, Miss Jaina."

"But I insist."

"Couldn't put you to the trouble," he scowled. She wondered if he realised he was mimicking Suitov's phrases. That didn't suit him any more than the sulky face did.

"It's no trouble at all; now move your furry heiney off my mage."

Weft pouted. "And let you clumsily maul him about? I've only just got him to sleep."

She rolled her eyes and said "Weft, anyone can administer a backrub."

"Anyone?! Have you any idea how long I spent being trained in physiothera--"

Suitov stirred. Weft froze. The mage lord muttered "Jackdaws are alarm calling again. Have to find the colum...columbine."

When he did nothing more, Weft started up the kneading motions again with a glare at Jaina.

"Well go on, get lost," she whispered.

"I was here first!" Weft whispered back.

"He's my boyfriend," she said.

Weft processed that for a second, then bent his head and touched his tongue to Suitov's neck. "I licked him," he said. "Mine now."

Where he belongs. IMHO of course ^_^

A balaclava-clad head appeared through the tent flap, then disappeared. "Fuck! There's someone in there!" someone hissed.

There was a pause, as if someone couldn't believe what he'd just seen. He risked another look.

Weft hadn't moved. He was still tied to the bed, wearing silk pyjamas. He'd looked right at the intruder but hadn't raised any alarm.

"'Ere, come and have a look at this," said the someone to someone else. Two black-clad figures sneaked inside.

The second someone whistled lowly. "You know what, I'm impressed," he said. "Mean, I'd heard he was buggering his Instarrian knife-for-hire but I thought it was just talk. I wouldn't think anyone would dare."

The first man turned away. "Let's turn the place over and get gone. I don't like how he's just looking at us quiet like."

Weft sighed. "I won't let you rob the place," he said.

The second robber chuckled. "And a lot you can do about it, trussed up all pretty. What're you gonna do, wail for your boyfriend?"

Weft was silent.

The first robber, unnerved, poked his colleague. "I said let's get on with it. Come on, before a patrol shows up." The second one joined him in looking over the modest possessions left lying around the tent.

"What have we here?" he said after a few moments. "Hold the sack - these books look valuaaaagh..."

The first robber froze in shock. Weft had materialised behind his colleague, had him on his knees with a knife to his throat before either could so much as twitch.

"Now, you can't say I didn't warn you," Weft said.

The first robber gibbered "You wasn't really tied?"

"I was," shrugged Weft. "At least, he tried. No-one can bind a brother who doesn't want to stay bound. I just play along to please him." He slit the throat of the robber at his feet and, while the man was still clawing at the wound, pounced his colleague. The other robber wasn't fast enough and quickly found a garotte around his neck.

"You know," said Weft dreamily, as the robber's fingers scrabbled in vain for a grip on the slicing wire, "you're really very lucky it was me. If my lord caught you making eyes at his books, he'd keep you alive for days. Parts of you at least." It was doubtful that the man heard the last part, being already dead. Sometimes Weft was too good at what he did.

Weft dropped the garotte and kicked the body over. Better dispose of these two and be trussed up again before Suitov returned. Love the man, but he got so irritated when Weft misbehaved.

He purred with anticipation.

I don't normally repost RPS here but...

...Enoby doesn't post often at EmpMyst these days and this one made me lol. I don't think she knows there was a third film.

((This will be taken down with alacrity if it proves objectionable to anyone concerned. I'm really bloody bored, sorry. ))

~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~

One day Vespers was watching TV and Damien Thorn from THE SHINING came out from the screen and he was grown up not a kid anymur and he had started to dressed gothik in leatherette boots and ripped skiny jeans and he had spiked chains around his hips and he also looked like David Bowie as the Goblin King from PANS LABYRINTH. He said "Vespers come on my flying motorcickel" and he had a flying bike just like in HARRY POOTER. They flew away and went to a gothic club and when MCR started playing they both said "I love this song!!!" and they danced to it. Then they went home and screwed all night and then Damien started crying because he is a sensitiv emo gothik boy and had to reapply his eyeliner and they had hawt boy on boy dickings and it was very hawt.

Another classic from EmpMyst

One time Suitov met an identical clone of himself and pushed him up against the wall and started making out. They were kissing each other's necks and making out pretty good and Jaina and Countess Iseea were watching and thought it was very hot and voyoristic when they were watching from behind the honeysuckle treliss and then they started kissing too and countessa put her hand down Jaina's jeans and started mesagging her and they got pretty hot and horny. The Suitovs got bored and wandered off to browse each other's book selections so then Countessa and Jaina had real hot and loud lesbian sex because noone was around to see them, OR WAS THERE?

Another from EmpMyst with permission

Felix bulled into the conference room ten minutes early, accompanied by his usual swirling shadows. Without preamble he said "Iceheart, may I have your permission to date your bodyguard?"

Suitov, who had been sixteen minutes early and was not surrounded by seething dry ice, but was, however, midway through stacking all the chairs along one wall to form some sort of prismatic Newton's cradle, looked partway over his shoulder at the other mage and said "It isn't my permission you need to ask, old man."

Felix dismissed Weft's entire mind-controlling, chastity-enforcing, pathologically strict organisation with a wave of the hand. "But your opinion's the only one I'm even faintly interested in. So, would you object or what?"

"Have you secured Weft's agreement?" asked Suitov pointedly. Felix's implication hadn't been lost on him and he didn't approve of it.

"Who cares? Look, the moron's so brainwashed nobody can tell what he really wants. Besides, he is plainly interested in men, however much he denies it."

"Probable." Suitov shrugged. The chairs bobbed a sine-wave in time. "Nonetheless, that doesn't mean he would be interested in you, and even if he were, he is unlikely to want to act on it."

"Oh, he will." Felix uncorked a small vial that had been hanging around his neck. The smell of the contents was mostly imperceptible to human nose, but it was plainly magical.

Suitov rumbled and hissed some meaningless syllables under his breath and identified the contents as catnip. Mostly catnip. It was packed around the nastiest spell he'd ever seen. That would make Weft interested in Felix all right. It would juggernaut through all the work Suitov had been putting in, trying to resurrect a glimmer of the man's free will. It would make him adore Felix, helplessly, devotedly adore him.

"See?" said Felix proudly.

Suitov nodded. For a moment he recalled something Weft had told him once, when they'd met a djinn. I'm... cursed, Weft had said. An avatar cursed me in the name of a god. Everyone I love dies horribly.

He gave Felix a cheerful reptilian smile. "Well then, treat him kindly, won't you?"

This should be interesting to observe.

In which Greedo shoots first, so to speak

"...So once I'd broken his cryptography, which took several days and really wasn't too impressive if one bears in mind that Felix had by all appearances crafted the curse in a playful mood fully intending me to break it eventually, getting you out of cat form was a relatively simple exercise, only delayed further by the careful seeking and disarming of booby-traps."

Suitov sat back down on the desk corner and tapped a lampshade with the nib of his phoenix quill.

Weft leaned forward, slipped his hands over Suitov's shoulders and kissed him.

There was barely a pause before Suitov reciprocated with an arm around Weft's waist, drawing him closer. The assassin felt the precursor to a blissful rumble begin deep in his throat.

Weft broke off, blushing, looked to one side and down, and licked his lips. He said "Um, was that...?"

"Redolent more of enthusiasm than of expertise," said Suitov with an affectionate chuck under the chin that made Weft look back up at him. "This is how you kiss someone --"

And he demonstrated most capably.

A quotation

"I'm not particularly bothered by gender[.] It's just that all the people to whom I've been romantically attracted have been women. There's been a sufficiently reasonably-sized sample that I'm happy to assume I'm heterosexual." -- Lord Suitov Iceheart

SO WHAT CONSTITUTES A REASONABLY SIZED SAMPLE, EH? ^___^

Tags:

Latest Month

March 2011
S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by chasethestars