kisses

E

eager

pale bruised flesh

P

Penetrate

P
Penetrate

transformed

trollop

Of course...

altered

Dazed

Wakes & wanders

returns…

Confused

Imregnated

"Yep." Said before you can get to the comma on that statement. He laughs, tongue between his teeth as you call him out. Some are true, some not. Who's to say? Dorian doesn't care enough to keep a mental ledger of who considers him a boyfriend and who considers him a friend with multiple benefits.

"Oh, finally saved up for a good gaming PC?" The war has gone from the mind to words now. Dorian can speculate on why you owe money to Pleasantville Chamber of Commerce, but beneath it all...he doesn't care. He just wants to see you in a catsuit. Plus...you seemed like a good contact to have given their mutually illegal lines of work.

"Huh." The literal path is taken. His heart actually has to redirect bloodflow FROM his penis for the first time in...........this has never happened before. His heart actually had to bust out the Dorian User's Manual to find the dusty old switch for that. So he's very confused while you junk up his gun and hand him something worse than a pipe pistol.

"Well, maybe Ganon can give me a hummer. Take the edge off." Dorian gathers up the pile of polymer and metal and...puts the various parts in his pockets. Maybe he can throw the pieces at potential threats on the way home.

He smoothly slips up and off of the bed, grabbing his bag of goodies off the TV stand before giving you a long, curious look.

"I'll be in touch. You want to steal some shit, we'll steal some shit."

With that, he makes his way to the door...stopping about halfway, just past the Cuck Chair before turning back to you.

"For future reference..." Dorian sticks out his tongue at you. Then curls it. Forming a tight sheath in the middle before sucking it back into his mouth.

"Later..." No wink. Just a smirk. The door was opened and closed behind him. He's going to brave the urban wilds for a few, then drown his sorrows in some 7s and 8s at the redneck bar on the edge of town.

Thursday is Cougar Cowgirl Night. Yee Haw.

(l/p)

You got this!

You are going to be great!

Yes please

"You're a fuckin' liar," Holly didn't make it sound like an indictment or accusation, given that you wore it like a job title. "…ain't no girl tolerate this, erm…"

Searching for a word, some word, that you hadn't already used to describe yourself. "…misbehavior. No, you do this reckless shit, prowlin' Edgewater and confess your sins to random girls. A true Jesus of the dust, dustin' up your nostril… you probably…"

She was rambling, voice ethereal as she stared down her nose at you, less scary when you were lower than her. "…travel light as a feather. Spartan n' shit… Nah, actually I kinda do need the money. I picked up this entire block on layaway, I owe some of these quaint local supermarket-and-divebar billionaires."

When you sat up, her fingers drifted away and rested heavy against the warmed fabric where you used to be, blinking slow as she gradually lost track of time, the way the colors shifted beyond the covered window from amber sunset to faint neon fluorescence.

"Okay…" Like an idiot, she took you literally and started to pat around the bed for pieces of your Glock. The measure being that if they're too high to be trusted around it, they're also too high to properly re-assemble it. Where were a few of the pieces? She had some of them, sliding the bits together wrong like a particularly difficult Rubick's Cube.

"It's dangerous to go alone…" themeing with the night's many gaming references, she gave up and simply passed the disassembled pieces to you in a pile. "…take this."