MINGLE 001

[erkumods]

MINGLE 001: FOOD, FUN, FUCKING

Guests are 'gently encouraged' by enforcer robots to gather into what appears to be a central gathering place in the middle of the settlement area. Attendance is quite mandatory. Once everyone has gathered, holographic emitters kick on and display... static. Loudspeakers tell the captive audience to prepare for an important announcement, and moments later a proper but mechanical voice chimes in: Greetings, organisms! R̷e̶j̸o̴i̴c̷e̸, for the portents foresee a time of glorious providence! We have recorded your actions a̵n̸d̵ ̴o̸u̶r̵ ̵c̶a̵p̸a̷b̷i̴l̸i̷t̵i̶e̸s̶ ̴have upgraded accordingly! The fabricator general automata grant you a boon, and shall provide much glamorous f̷i̶x̴t̶u̶r̶e̴s̷ ̴to aid in your future acts. Frolic and make merrily, all! To honor your contributions and celebrate your arrival, you will be invited to attend our first sultry salacious soiree. Join your fellow chosen and f̵u̶l̵f̴i̵l̸l̵ ̵y̸o̷u̶r̷ ̷f̸u̴n̴c̷t̷i̶o̶n̶! And with that, the display ends and characters are allowed to go as they please. Upon returning, characters now find that dormant manufacturing robots have been reactivated, and will accept requests to build certain household fixtures, i.e., bedding, couches, loveseats. Because who wants to bang on a dusty cot, right? The quality will not be high. Imagine low-end IKEA. Build quality also varies dramatically and seems to depend on how old and corrupted the machine is. (As with all things in this world, quality is improved with intimate acts.) But what is this celebration you've been invited to? That much is simple as sin. It's a mechanically sponsored party. Of particular note to hungry newcomers will be a fully stocked banquet ample spirits and naturally, a dedicated area for an all-out orgy. It's a good old-fashioned party, Roman style! ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● These are no hospital rations. This is a full-fledged feast. It's no less dangerous, though. Naturally, the robots have seen fit to add a little bit "extra." Some offerings are entirely innocuous, while others have bevy of effects that you'll soon discover. You may find yourself only able to speak the truth, or maybe after one bite you find yourself instantly smitten with the next person you see. Some foods incite obedience, others rebellion. And some... well, you can't have an orgy without some good, old-fashioned aphrodisiac. The music has been modulated to change the way you think. Of course it's electro-synth, what else would robots play? Slower music induces sleep; maybe you fall into a cuddle-puddle with some of your fellow kidnappees. Faster music encourages you to dance. And some music? That's what upstairs is for. Speaking of upstairs, what's an orgy without the orgy? You may find yourself auspiciously able to fill your decadent A5 squares. In a large room that seems unusually renovated, as if the robots had given it special attention just for this day, a floor covered in pillows awaits the beast with two backs. No one is turned away, and those attending will get a notification from their devices that they have received... additional credits? What could this mean? ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

[ludicrous]

D-Don't be obscene... ! [ His eyes widen and then fall half-shut, vaguely humiliated but mostly overcome by arousal. Palm flattened on Vidar's shoulders, fingers seizing up as he bites him in return. Tepidly at first, then more and more uncompromising, bestowing upon him the ache of an ugly bruise that'll mottle. The gift that keeps on giving. Enjoy the neck pain. ] Given the opportunity, I won't spare you.

[ As if this is a punishment than a lesson. Another hitch of breath as his attention vacillates. That said, he's profusely slick, from the lube, from the pre-cum dripping out of his dick. Wreathed in tremors, muscles seizing, he presses his mouth up against the shell of Vidar's ear, as if intimating upon him a great and terrible secret. ]

You came prepared.

[ P-E-R-V-E-R-T. ]

[automatized]

I've got goals, [ is how he explains that. and furthermore -- ] I'm also an impatient man.

[ he doesn't want him to cum without having had a good payoff for it, so vidar withdraws his fingers and lets lelouch feel the loss of that keenly, going back to kissing his mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a very, very obscene manner. and he thought what he was doing earlier was bad, well. this man came prepared.

he aligns himself with him and then lets lelouch sink on him, slowly as he pushes in his cock. ]

Given the opportunity, huh. [ vidar smiles at him. ] Well, you've certainly been unsparing with that adorable look you've been giving me all night.

[ he licks his lips as he presses him flush against his lap -- ] I look forward to more of it.

[ he's gonna make fucking for blue pens worth it ]

[ludicrous]

[ Taking it up the ass from a roomba is going to do a number on his ego. He won't forget; he'll have his comeuppance, as per the dictates of his soul. Not with anger at hand, but satisfaction. His kind of revenge knows no better solace than reciprocity.

His mouth's raw from the relentlessness of frustration that amounts to dispassion, left so painfully, achingly empty in the absence of fingers and the provocation that Vidar lays out as bait: I look forward to more of it.

But if Vidar is impatient then Lelouch is insatiable; even slowly and begrudgingly filled he shudders, back arching with belligerence first and pleasure second. Like this rush that culminates in nothing, for as long as Vidar doesn't move where his hips are flush in his lap, cock nestling in but not nearly enough yet, not the momentum or the drive to take this even further.

So Lelouch squeezes at him. He's already been fucked in the ass twice and therefore expects the resultant throb as he leans back in on him. ]

... So do I.

[ He'll look forward to digging into Vidar's heart for whatever it'll yield to him. ]

[automatized]

[ ah, how nice and accommodating of him. not to worry. vidar heeds that impatience and grabs at his ass and shifts him up and starts thrusting into him. he's awful in that he's earnest and he wants him to feel good with it, and vidar leaves marks on his thighs and ass because he can. because he's a terrible roomba with no problems encouraging lelouch, who is insatiable with all things.

also because he has to admire a rather insistent beast who wants to get to know him -- vidar, who always keeps all of his partners at a distance, friendly and cordial as he may be. vidar who always has people at an arm's length that not even sex is able to breach such intimacy, like this is another mission he intends to complete and excel at. if it frustrates his partners, he's got nothing to show for it much other than an insistence on form, because what he wants isn't going to be provided or given by someone other than ... one other awful man. one other awful blond.

still, he's considerate of his desires, and vidar thrusts into him as much as he seeks that mouth again, that awful sound of skin on skin filling the room. ]

[ludicrous]

[ Though Lelouch runs so cold— an indicator of his poor health and the cruelty he so very often exhibits even towards those he cares inexorably for— he's redolent with warmth right now, fingers plucking at him as he's given and afforded the outlet to vent.

It's strange. All of this is so strange. With Suzaku, everything was so rife with pain-turned-catharsis and McGillis was inscrutable and charismatic to the core, getting fucked by Vidar is fathomless, like he can see the grand scheme of his temperament but not the minute details. The politeness is there, as is the generosity, but not lies beneath the mask; even after Vidar's tugged it off and bared his scars there's nothing to be perceived, only what he chooses to present. True concealment.

Nothing he can hold onto to, even with his fingers susceptible to touch like his body, halting and stuttering where he's impaled on him as he presses his hands into his hair and kisses him, wedging his tongue in. Angrily, like his body, pitched forward to find the best angle to go about screwing himself back onto Vidar's dick, since it's all the same to him either way. ]

[automatized]

[ for what it's worth, it's good, even if lelouch isn't exactly what he wants.

vidar fucks into him relentlessly, angling himself for what will bring the most pleasure to lelouch, especially when he's nice and tight around his cock like this, focusing on making sure he feels him in every thrust. it's a relentless barrage and he's eager to please him, eager to make him come.

he breaks off the kiss so he can bite him, leave bruises on his shoulder and his neck, mouthing down his chest and over his scar as his hand starts stroking him, thumb running over the slit and over the head of his cock as he takes his pleasure from him, in harder and faster ways, rough as he lets lelouch sink down his cock. he can take it, anyway. ]

[ludicrous]

[ In a way, it's satiation.

But they're not operating on remotely equal terms; he hasn't given up anything to Vidar, though Lelouch is already dead and his goals have inverted in the aftermath. His mind doesn't permit itself to linger on Suzaku and the profane sentiment of the sword he'd plunged into him but that's where it goes the second his scar on his chest is grazed by Vidar's mouth. ]

Don't touch... it.

[ The breathlessness comes out, his fingers clumsily lured to Vidar's shoulders, grip vying to deepen. All the care instilled to avoid what he could to avoid the scars was pointless when they're spiderwebbed over Vidar like bright, slivered shards of glass; Lelouch can't touch him without being privy to them.

But inflicted as the means to kill him, the wound on Lelouch's chest does its job; even afterwards is his touch sliding over Vidar in throes of disarray. Trembling and flushed over with arousal in Vidar's lap, sunk down his cock and stifling any kind of release, that's what Lelouch protests: being kissed in the one place that won't ever heal. ]

[automatized]

[ lightly, ] .... I used to be like that, too.

[ and vidar gives him a rather fond smile.

a crime most foul. a crime only he can bear and forgive. and now he wears his scars and watches as mcgillis touches them in fear and hate and sadness, because that's a kind of victory too.

vidar groans, burying himself into that heat again and again as he leans his forehead breathlessly on lelouch's shoulder, still kissing and biting his skin, still tracing the curves of his body with an impertinent tongue. and his hand is relentless as it strokes him, and vidar thinks that it's good, for what it is, it can count for satiation, it's not the best but it's something he can come back to, this body of lelouch's that proclaims its secrets but doesn't quite speak them even naked. ]

[ludicrous]

[ That's all it takes, sometimes. The scar's there and the devastation it's wreaked apparent. Lelouch, shuddering and belligerent, accepts the feeling as it seizes him. Desire of the same magnitude as frustration when he's curled inward like this. Throbbing so implacably underneath Vidar's fingers, erection lacerated with warmth that muddles just below the skin as the inevitable happens.

When he comes, it's silent and premature, worked over on his dick, into Vidar's palm. He's gasping even as he squeezes his eyes shut. ]

... How long did it take?

[ So rude, the haughtiness in him portrayed as something inborn. Always this arrogance in Lelouch, even when he beseeches the truth. Vidar owes him no answers but it's what Lelouch asks regardless, trying to stave off the way he's harshly clenching up about the cock buried inside of him. ]

[automatized]

[ he follows, not too long after; vidar conscientious enough not to cum inside of him, making a right mess on his ass and down his thighs. it takes a while for him to answer lelouch's question, and he pauses to lick off his cum from his fingers, vidar always having been a messy partner when it comes to these things.

that stupor that settles in after sex claws onto his brain and he has to comb through his thoughts responsibly to make sure he doesn't accidentally give something away. he busies himself, instead, by cleaning up the mess they've made with a handkerchief that he fumbles from out of his pocket, wiping down lelouch, and himself. it's been much abused over the past couple of days. ]

.... a while, [ he finally admits. ] But I never kept track of the days. There's too much going on.

One day, it hurt like hell, and then after that ... it just didn't. [ he gives him a kiss on his cheek. ] Like with all things, it just needs time. And a suitable distraction from everything that hurts.

[ like war. like vengeance, which burnt through his veins and hurt a lot more than any old scars. ]

[ludicrous]

[ Disoriented, Lelouch breath saws and saws like a blade in the haze of orgasm, as his mind does. It's indebtedness that fills him after, coming outside, Vidar cleaning him out. He glances aside, somewhat abashed, whispering his gratitude against his ear: thank you. And then, just as quietly, a secret: ] It wasn't that long ago for me.

[ Could've been yesterday that he'd fallen from the heights of the world; it may as well have been self-inflicted, given the premeditation of the act, but it's still one he associates with Suzaku, for better or worse. Absentmindedly, he presses his palm to his cheek, prickling in the wake of the kiss. ]

You're kinder than you appear.

[ So what happened to Vidar to warrant those wounds? Lelouch can't discern it for himself as he sits up; a second after, he's clumsily eased off his lap to go fetch his clothes where they've sprawled out along the floor in a telling state of disarray. Tugging his underwear and trousers back into place takes precedence; it's upon slipping on his shirt that he finds his voice. ]

Was this an adequate distraction?

[ From the pain that dwells in Vidar so ceaselessly, unable to be mended. ]

[automatized]

[ not long ago, huh. and yet it hasn't changed him, into the way that vidar has been warped into something monstrous. whatever kindness he notices in vidar, vidar certainly notices in him, too. lelouch, he can tell, had people who loved him and was surrounded by such to the end. they had moved in different circles, although vidar fell hard into his grave.

that's alright. downwards is still a trajectory.

and the awful truth is that he's always been kind. too trusting. mcgillis said so, and he would know better than him.

as for that question, vidar looks at him thoughtfully. ]

Everything here is, [ he admits to him a truth. it's not quite a secret, considering how he's been conducting himself in these affairs, but vidar keeps a lot of things close to his chest, or whatever's left of it that mcgillis' grimgerde hasn't destroyed. ]

Don't worry about what's adequate and what's not for distractions, when it comes to me.

[ he cleans up, as well. he'll have to wash his handkerchief again, but that's just the way this place is.

vidar replaces the helmet on his head, the mask, and that was that. ]

Take care, Lelouch.

[ludicrous]

... It was adequate for me.

[ More than adequate. That's too telling. Far too personal to burden what may as well be a stranger, some deeper trespass of betrayal and trust and the way ends always define the means.

Pain that the body inflicts is only temporary. What the mind invokes is eternal, and so he doesn't begrudge anything more today, beyond the terms of their arrangement, shaping yet another redundancy with his mouth. Vidar's a man of his word; he'll follow through with what he's promised. The trust isn't misplaced. ]

Keep in touch. I'll give you what I've learned over the next few days.

[ As Suzaku reports to him from his reconnaissance, at least. Lelouch straightens and musters up a farewell. ]

Take care, Vidar. And take care of those scars.

[ Lest you be consumed by them. ]