Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 8, 2016 21:52:12 GMT
Open to Sayvahn. Takes place before the World of a Festival, but after the Curfew was lifted. Tonight was one of those nights were Lasair wasn’t going to head to Edel’s place to get some rest. Instead, he was walking through the halls of MI, not doing much, just walking. He found himself retracing the steps from past things that had happened. The meeting Danny called to announce some changes, the time Lasair had to punish Ratna, seeing Clairee and discovering his status as 2IC with her. Nights with Sayvahn. Going to the roof. Crawling into a corner and sobbing. Letting out a breath, he changed his coarse towards the front of the building, where the larger foyer was that displayed all their masks. This place held better memories; mainly ones involving the introduction of new members into the ranks. Yet, some sadness managed to seep into this place as well. He reached out and rested a hand on Sayvahn’s mask, rubbing this thumb against the wood gently. “You said if I did something unforgivable, you’d forgive me. But why does it feel like that isn’t the case? Why does it feel like everything’s gone between us?”
Martial law being lifted spelled many things. The first pronounced longer nights, but the other, promised early mornings. Both, valid opportunities for Sayvahn to return to a place he had tried to forget, but, always seemed to linger towards. Although, despite months having passed, MI’s walls were just as cold as he remembered them, and with a sigh, the older man pushed through the doors, catching the smallest fragment from a figure lurking in the confines of the room. Pausing, emerald eyes, scanned over the form, at slumped shoulders indistinguishable but familiar after so many times having to lean on them, and in turn, them lean on him. Yet, what was the fox doing there, in front of the masks? Gazing upon his own hidden persona, relishing in the cover that gave him his nickname, the fox? How strange, as the guild leader, although could be called selfish in light of certain events, was nota narcissist. Though, did Sayvahn really have the right to make any sort of claim on the red head’s personality? Most likely not. Pulling his hair to the side, Sayvahn adjusted the longer strands, of which, had been steadily growing, a suggestion presented by both Edelweiss and Edgar— the later, probably because it made Sayvahn look more and more like Aida rather than his masculine half. Still, it had developed into a nervous tick, and Sayvahn, he quietly entered the domain, breath, held as he walked inside.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 20, 2016 20:32:50 GMT
At the sound of the door opening, Lasair pulled his hand away from the shelves, yet his eyes lingered on what had been touched a moment longer before turning to see who the visitor was at this time of night. The face was changed, was somewhat different, but Lasair knew who it was, knew him by the way he held himself and how he stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he blurted before he could think of anything else to say. His eyes darted to the ground, a show of submission. And then the words spilled before he could do much else; mind determined to have them be heard by the other. “Despite my status as leader, I still act like a child more often that I should. Especially around you. It wasn’t right. I need to change. I’m going to try to. And,” he allowed his eyes to peer upward for a moment before looking down again. “I am sorry.”
Footsteps stopped, and Sayvahn’s body lurched forward, uncertain why, how—even when— his body had thought to work on its own against his mind. Jade jewels locked onto the stone ground, breath caught as furrowed brows rose once more. “I didn’t say anything.” The feline started. “Nor did you have to say anything.” But was that really true? They had to talk sometime. After all. Silence could not last forever. Stepping forward, now, both Sayvahn’s mind and body worked in tandem as he approached the younger man, but, his actions were cautious, as if Lasair was a wild animal, was a—was a fox. “Oh Lassy. Don’t apologize. If anything, I am the one who should be sorry.” A hand came up to touch the redhead’s cheek, but, the motion, it was stopped halfway and the older man retracted his hand. “You are young. Prone to mistakes. And if anyone was acting like a child, it was me, dear. Fifteen years your senior, and you would think I would have more sense then to try to win the heart of a young man.” The feline tried to laugh, but it came out forced, came out coated in regret. “You don’t need to change. You are a great leader.” The dancer offered, patting the guild leader on the shoulder as he smiled gently, yet the hand, it didn’t leave the man’s shoulder even after Sayvahn had stopped the movement. ” I’m just the one that needs to change, dear. At least, change into someone who won’t make you need to say those words.” The feline muttered, at last, realizing the hand on Lasair’s shoulder, and slowly, he drew it away, holding onto it steadily as his eyes flickered between the limb, and Lasair, sapphire blues meeting those of Emerald greens. “And besides. I need to learn my place at some point, right?”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 21, 2016 4:29:56 GMT
“But you’ve already changed so much from the first time we met,” he countered, watching the movements made by the other. Lasair almost wished he could bring himself to move as well, yet his feet were in place and his arms were trapped his sides by nothing more than his mind. Swallowing hard, he thought over Sayvahn’s words for a moment before he continued, voice losing the intensity it had before. “I’m not a great leader. I hardly think I’m even a good one. I’m just the man in the position right now and apparently the best one qualified. But how that came to be, I am not certain. I was naive when I joined, and it feels as though the more I’ve learned, the farther I am from being a good leader.” The confession spilt out of him, again with his mouth running before his mind.
He tried to get his hands to move. And succeeded, but only in bringing them together to hold in front of him. “I’ve done a lot of thinking since the last time I saw you. I’d like to think I’ve matured a bit too, but that’s up for debate. And, well.” Taking a half step forward, he wrapped his arms around Sayvahn, hugging the man tightly. “I’ve missed you.”
A lot can happen in a short time. Sayvahn knew that. And he knew that Lasair had to get everything out, had to at last, talk to him. Something that the fox hadn’t been able to do, all this time. And, then, the fox, he embraced him, uttering such soft words that made Sayvahn’s breath catch, and his heart, ache as he buried his face into the other’s neck, the scent that he had come to realize he had missed, filling his senses. Hand’s returned the hug, digging into his back not forcefully, but with the want of never letting go. But he had to. They all had to, at some point. “I was trying to let you go. I really was. But, I can’t Lasair, I can’t.” Sayvahn started, burying his head, shoulder’s quivering some as he tried to hide the tears that started to form. “You are a great leader. Don’t question why, or how, you just are. Leaders are not created, but made, and you, you were made to be a leader, to be beautiful, to be you.” Sayvahn stuttered, knowing that this had to be it. Had to be the end. If not, then, this would just continue on. “And I’ve matured as well. That’s why…. I can’t Lasair.” The older man whispered, slowly pushing away, head, lowered, in shame. “You deserve so much more than me. And even if you can’t see your potential, I do— and that, I, I can’t rob that from you. I can’t do that to you. I can’t love you. Not when I love you so much.” Hands came up to shield an older face, a face deemed attractive to some, but to one that bore it, ugly, inside and out, both burned, but now, left to face what the fire couldn’t take away— his love, his guilt, and most of all, his regret.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 21, 2016 5:27:24 GMT
The slight feeling of wetness dotting his shoulder is what gave away Sayvahn’s tears to Lasair. His words had hit him so hard? It was a surprise Lasair didn’t have time to review as Sayvahn pulled back, eyes averted as words were spoken.
Confusion rang out from Lasair’s voice in answer. “First you say you can’t let me go, then you say you can’t love me? Sayvahn,” he spoke the name with kindness, stepping closer to the other man, standing merely an inch from him. “I’m not going to make the same mistakes twice. I want you to be here, in the guild.” Pausing, he remembered the time Sayvahn spoke of leaving, spurred on from a boy-turned-guard. “And, if possible,” he stopped again, waiting until he had eye contact from the elder man. “I want you to be with me.”
Silence stretched between them, allowing Sayvahn a moment to think on the words. “If you’re truly sure you don’t want a level of intimacy with me.” He reached out to hold the other’s hand. “Then at the very least, I want you to be my friend.” Was he rushing with these words? Perhaps, but it didn’t matter. The leader had been given enough time to review the dialogue over in his head, to plan out all the different parts and phrases. There were too many nights worrying about this moment for him to do anything but.
Kindness can hurt just as much as any other feeling, and Sayvahn held his breath with the call of his name, the warmth of the other, flowing over him as he neared, their forms, barely an inch apart. But, the ex barber had to remember: the guilt. Here, it was only a part, only an aspect of their relationship, and the only aspect he had left. There was nothing more Lasair needed of him, except— “And if possible—“ I want you to be with me. The rest of the words mattered little. The held hand was dismissed as one hand grabbed Lasair by the scruff of his clothes while the other supported his head, fingers, enlacing into those red locks of his. “I gave you a chance.” The older man hissed, emerald orbs, furrowing into a scowl. “So don’t you dare even think of regretting this.” And then, silence. Heat met heat, hands, released form clothes to get a better hold as Sayvahn kissed him— breath, relinquished as the older man pressed him against the wall, ensuring that there was no escape, that there was only him and Lasair, and silence. “Because.” Sayvahn breathed, drawing away for only a moment. “I’m never going to let you go.”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 21, 2016 7:30:57 GMT
The harsh hold made Lasair stop, confusion washing over him again as he was unsure whether to put up his guard or simply submit to whatever wrath awaited him. But only a few words were exchanged until the hold relaxed, being replaced instead by an act of passion. He was shocked at first, unable to react as Sayvahn kissed him and pressed him against the wall, yet he didn’t fight the actions, merely experienced them. But then he was given a moment, a breath, to listen further and understand the situation. “I’m never going to let you go.” Eyes turned soft as Lasair lifted his hand, resting it on Sayvahn’s cheek. “I never want you to.”
Normally he would fight the desires, the urges to do things that normally struck fear into him. Yet right now, those fears didn’t have the right to voice themselves in this situation; the fears didn’t understand just how much the two of them had been through—together. It was a hard decision to make, yet he made it in a split second. The decision to let go, to not care, to indulge in the passions of desire, if only temporarily. One night could only go so far, after all. The hand on his cheek laced around, into his hair and pulled the man forward, kissing him with a strength Lasair didn’t know he had within him. But it didn’t end with a kiss, no, he still had a free arm, an arm he used to loop around Sayvahn’s waist and pull him forward, pressing not just his mouth, but his body against Lasair. There was a limit to how far the velvet was willing to go, but until they reached that point, he wanted to enjoy every moment of this.
“I never want you to.” A hand lay across his cheek, and Sayvahn’s breath hitched, tension, snaking through him as Lasair pressed them together, their lips, joining once more, no longer space for breath, or thought, just action, and the feline nearly went limp in the man’s touch as an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling them even closer still. He didn’t know what to do. The older man’s mind, it was reeling. It was never like this with Edgar, or, well, it was, just, never this early, never this new. With Edgar, it had been instinct first, rushing headlong, trusting ones feelings while then thinking upon them. And that, that too is what the feline had to do with Lasair— but, it was so fragile, this relationship. This feeling. Drawing his lips away, he kissed Lasair’s neck, the tears, still lingering in his eyes as his actions became less passionate, and more gentle. “I love you, Lasair.” The older man spoke into the fox’s shoulder, hands trailing across the other’s back ever so gently, ever so slowly. “I love you so much I… I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 22, 2016 5:40:38 GMT
His own breath caught when lips met his neck, surprise and pleasure mixing together and spreading through him. But that was alright, it was obvious to both of them now that they were aroused. Yet, Sayvahn acted with compassion and not with desire. It wasn’t what Lasair expected, but that was okay too. And his voice it sounded to pained and yet so kind. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to be a moment spent in passion. Accepting that fact, Lasair moved his hands around, slipping one under his shirt to mimic the actions he received, while the other returned to his face, cupping his chin gently to bring the other to look into his eyes. “I love you, Sayvahn. Do what you wish for yourself right now.” He raised a thumb up to wipe away one of the tears, offering Sayvahn a small smile. “We’ve been through so much together, you know that right? I’d be silly if anything could get in our way now.” He tilted Sayvahn’s head downward, kissing his forehead for a moment. “You deserve this.” This meaning the time, the company, the actions, and anything else it entailed.
He was being so kind. So gentle. Sayvahn leaned into the touch, nudging his face into the palm as Lasair wiped away his tears, and Sayvahn nodded, letting out a mixture between a laugh and a sob. “I know. I know, it’s just—” Lasair drew Sayvahn’s head downwards, kissing the blond’s forehead, and Sayvahn leaned into him, listening to the words echo through his mind. You deserve this. You deserve me. You deserve to love me, the fox seemed to say, and Sayvahn leaned even more forward, kissing along Lasair’s neck to his collar bone, feeling the fox’s warm hands, edged in cold, linger across his skin, and Sayvahn’s own hand’s traveling down to Lasair’s hips, as if to anchor them down. “I don’t deserve anything.” Sayvahn breathed, hovering over Lasair’s neck, breath coating, seeming to fog up his glasses, teeth, already trailing across the skin. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 24, 2016 3:48:59 GMT
Lasair took a sharp breath, but as he exhaled, it calmed as he realized the attention was enjoyable. His nails fell across Sayvahn’s back trying his best to match the sort of actions started by the other. The teeth on his neck sent a shiver down his spine as he tilted his head so that his neck was stretched out, rather than curled up. It had been a long time since the velvet had been touched this way; he couldn't quite remember how he was supposed to move or what he was supposed to do. “You deserve more than I can give you,” he breathed quietly, always being the type when it came to this sort of thing.
“And you deserve all that can be given.” Sayvahn hummed, a hand, inching toward Lasair’s upper back, supporting him. God, they were like children, aggressively unsure of where to go, only that they were together, and that they were still in the opening hall, the eyes of anyone able to fall onto them, onto the fact that Sayvahn was able to be with Lasair, despite being a man, despite being older, despite so many things. And despite all these things, Lasair accepted him, and most of all, loved him for that. And that— that made Sayvahn truly grateful, and happy, all at the same time.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Aug 24, 2016 23:14:11 GMT
As Sayvahn thought about how childish they were acting, Lasair thought about the fact that his mind was beginning to feel fear, a fear that he had told himself to dispel, to ignore. But he could only ignore it for so long. The holding, the kissing, the warmth, it was all wonderful and it so much more than Lasair experienced on a normal basis. So much more than he had felt in a very, very long time. That was just it; this was more than he normally received, more than he normally desired. And his mind didn’t know what to make of it, nor where to go with it. He would try to quell the fear, try to fight against it, for Sayvahn, but he didn’t know how long that would last. If he could just stretch it a little longer, make it last a little more, then perhaps it would be worth it, would be fun. But getting there was the hard part. The movements lost some intensity, but he tried to bring it back. He didn’t want the other to know, not yet, not when they both still stood together, sharing a moment they had thought about, but never dared experience.
"All you need is love." -John Lennon
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