Closed [M] Where Owls Know My Name

[Velho]

༺༉❁ May 1st year 124 of the third age ❁༉༻
<Sexual themes>

It took…some time for him to clear his schedule, but when he did Velho was more than eager to return to the one he'd left to sleep up in his room. Entering the room, he'd tread over beside the cocoon and lifted from where it'd been cut, revealing the sleeping figure within. He placed his palm against the bend of Vivian's neck and Allayed his Bane, gently shaking the boy awake in turn.

When Vivian opened his eyes, he'd feel disoriented, but rather well rested. One could argue Sopor was a Bane that actually had tangible benefits, as it did allow those afflicted by it to rest unimpeded, and unusually well. And he would see Velho knelt above him, though fully dressed this time in elegant, black robes. If he looked around, he'd see a spacious bedchamber, decorated in an elaborate, maximalist nature; those same elements of macabre, druidic art deco present in the rest of the house were here as well, though with a distinctly more personal touch. His bed, too, was suitably dramatic, with an ornate, four post frame and surrounded by deep purple, velvet curtains. Further, one might be able to assume Velho was the sentimental type, as he appeared to have shelves displaying a variety of strange things from preserved specimens to odd artwork.

"I…let you sleep for about a day, it's night again. We Æld'Norai are nocturnal, and I've plenty of time for you, now," he said with a soft smile.

"Would you prefer to clean yourself off, find something to eat or drink? Find something to wear? Or do you have any burning questions you'd like answered right away?" He presented his rather unique 'guest' with an array of options, as any polite host should.

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

Vivian opened his eyes with a sharp exhale. He was back to his senses, and waking up in an unfamiliar room was nothing any prostitute wanted to experience. He sat up quickly, perhaps a bit quickly, and squeezed his eyes shut with a hiss. His head was fuzzy, like someone had shoved cotton in his ears and beaten him with something metal. Vivian rubbed at his eyes, swearing under his breath as he realized he was still wearing his makeup from earlier. He sighed, grabbing a globule of his cocoon to rub at his face. Despite the texture, it was quite good at peeling away dirt, smeared makeup, and old sweat from his skin. It was, however, a bitch to get rid of. Once it was constructed, it would continue to dry out and shrivel unless he was there to maintain it. That, and it attracted a hell of a lot of attention. He sighed; he must have been in dire straits indeed to have made one.

Vivian looked up. There his lover was, knelt above him, wearing black robes and looking at him expectantly. Vivian raked his fingers through his hair, and climbed out of the cocoon. "Sorry about the mess." he muttered, gesturing at it. He had to climb out through the slit as opposed to chewing his way out; Velho must have cut into it to get out.

The room was, in a word, fancy. He didn't understand half the things on the shelves, and that bed cost more gold than he'd likely ever seen in his life. He'd somehow stumbled into the home of some...noble. High class merchant at worst. It didn't seem the man was about to flay him alive, free of the hormones and sex that had consumed them earlier. Vivian's first worry that he might be angry once he'd orgasmed and come back to his senses was allayed. Presented with his options, Vivian smirked.

"Bath. Definitely bath. I have clothes downstairs. Upstairs? Wherever the kitchen is from here." He gestured down to himself. He was still dribbling come down his thighs, he was coated in old sweat and mucus, and his hair was starting to crust. Not like he'd been exactly clean before, but he did have some standards. His arcana was quiet, sated. Good. The last thing he needed was it waking up and hunting around. "And...thank you, handsome. For last night."

Vivian smiled at Velho. "You could join me, you know. I find the best conversations I've ever had are settled on a man's lap in an exquisitely hot bath." He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the other man expectantly. "Or did you have enough of me last night?"

​

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Vivian's surprise and disorientation had been expected, given the circumstances. Velho sat silently and waited for the boy to gather his senses; it was cute, almost, his confusion.

His words drew a wan smile upon the Scourge's lips– both at the suggestion, and the compliment. "Oh, dont worry about it; I'm…used to dealing with mess, though usually the nature of which is a bit different." Normally, the 'messes' he concerned himself with were due to death, but this wasn't that different, was it? Gore was organic matter, as was this cocoon.

"Upstairs; we were on the third floor, and now we're on the fourth. Your possessions were retrieved and cleaned since we fell asleep," he clarified.

"I suppose I could join you," he added. Velho found the warmth and steam of hot water to be soothing, and so he would not mind answering Vivian's questions in such a setting. "Come, then, this way."

Velho stood, and then paced slowly over to one of the room's three doors. It opened into a rather sizable bathroom, the centerpiece of it being the bath itself. It was large enough to accommodate multiple people and appeared to have been grown out of the dark wood of the wall rather than built into it. Hot water flowed from the wall itself, indicating that the plumping involved was always circulating. How exactly it worked was an elaborate marriage of magic and architecture given Hespæria's swampy environs, but the Æld'Norai were quite well versed with weaving lavish notes into every space. There were a variety of soaps and other bath products, both barred and bottled, indicating that Velho really did try and take care of himself– he could just only do so much.

He'd look at his fledgling guest, "...you can use anything. I'll join you in a moment," and he'd begin the process of undressing himself in turn.

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

There was one advantage to making love with the rich, and that was the perks. Vivian padded over to the bathroom door, and kissed Velho's cheek. "You really are surprising." He chuckled, and slid into the bathroom. Without much ado, he stepped into the bathtub and sighed happily at the hot water. He turned on his belly so he could hook his arms over the rim of the tub, and laid his cheek on his arms. He grinned, watching Velho, and waved his hand lazily.

"Mm, please. Undress." He purred. "So, you'll help me understand my magic? What happened to me? What were you doing when you…palpated down near my gut?"

Vivian arched his back, stretching out under the water. It felt so good to get some moisture on his skin again; he could feel the old mucus sloughing off. He groaned, rolling his shoulders. "Gods this feels good…" he moaned.

​

 

[Velho]

<notes>

"Am I?" he'd ask, sounding oblivious. This was partially on purpose, because he could imagine that to a foreigner, many aspects of Ælheim in general could be surprising. It was more that he wondered what, in particular, the other was commenting on.

Velho was not used to being watched while he undressed, and even despite what they'd done the night before, it still made him a bit nervous– something he endeavored not to show, though somebody wise enough might notice the trepidation in his movements. It was hard for him to feel any sort of confidence about his body being at all appealing to look at; he only really used it in combination with his magic to impart fear in others, as opposed to anything else.

"I can, yes. I'm cursed, like you, though the nature of what afflicts me is quite different than what you have; merely each curse, each Blight, is born from the same source. My mother is like you– Rusalka– and so I've enough experience with that strain of Blight that I can help you well enough," he'd explain.

In truth, Velho had read up enough on all of the Blights to be able to explain most of their finer points, but Scourge, Devorare, and Rusalka were the ones with which he had the most experience.

With his clothing removed, he'd pad over to the bath and join Vivian, his usually slow, smooth movements appearing somewhat rushed– mostly because he didn't like to be standing so exposed. He sat down next to the other, though he didn't touch him yet; Velho sat with his knees bent and his arms between them, gripping the ledge of the bath's seat with his hands, almost like one would expect of a stone gargoyle. He found that, for the moment, he was just entranced in the young man's visual. Vivian was passing adorable, basking in the water like that.

But then, he'd blink himself back to his senses, realizing he forgot to answer the second question. "I, well…I was looking for a Seeming Crux, the organ that your client implanted in you. Your sensitivity 'round the liver confirmed it, but, ah, I ended up not necessarily needing to do that, hm?" he said with a short laugh.

"Those shifts to your anatomy confirmed it well enough. If I remember right, you said he fed you…worms? Insects? Those, whatever they were, must be the source of your…physical quirks," he wasn't exactly sure how to phrase it. "Seeming is a fae Glamour, separate from your Rusalka, but I don't doubt whatever you've Imprinted on is bleeding into you because of the latter."

Velho was trying his best to explain this in a way that was easy enough to understand, but he wasn't entirely sure where to begin with somebody who had zero context to understand these things. Normally, it wasn't his job to teach people things.

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

Vivian turned his head to watch Velho rush into the bath, chuckling. He knew damn well how to make himself alluring, even like this. He spread his legs slightly, letting Velho see the remains of their night together bleeding into the water, one hand cupping water up to his face so he could feel clean again. He listened to the explanation, and frowned, ducking his head under the water to quickly shed the gunk out of his hair.

The bastard had given him multiple magics? It didn't feel separate. They all blended together into one confusing strain inside him. Vivian slithered under the water toward Velho, popping up between the man's legs. He smirked, propping his chin up on Velho's knee. "You mean when he ripped me open he put another organ in me? Where the hell did he get it? Just…killed some poor mage and ripped it out of him?" He asked with a smirk.

"He fed me worms, leeches, a wasp or two. Shoved them down my throat. Like I said, I thought he was trying to kill me. But lo and behold, I made them part of me. Is that what this Seeming is about?" Vivian asked. "And…explain Rusalka. The bastard didn't tell me anything. Just fucked me, tortured me, and left."

Vivian crept a hand over Velho's thigh, feeling the skin there idly. "Is that why I go so mad..? Why I…I kill people? When I need to, I seek out powerful men. If they don't mate with me, I swallow them whole. Alive. I become something else…something between worm and man. All it wants to do is fuck and eat."

​

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Intimate touch was foreign to Velho, and so in his head, he was content just to observe for the moment. He did note that the amount of his emissions from the night before surprised him, lacking in virility as he was. The sight made his usual half-lidded gaze widen a bit and his cheeks flushed with a warmer shade of purple, though the latter he could excuse, perhaps, by the temperature of the room.

He could only wonder, what had come over me…?

The Scourge watched as the other ducked underwater, watched as his form moved beneath the surface. The expression he wore when the boy reemerged and rested his chin upon his knee was subtle, but Vivian might be able to see his features soften. Velho was having trouble shaking away the thought that Vivian had only lusted after him so because of his Arcana's overwhelming instincts, not out of any actual inborn interest. And while Velho realized that, in current circumstances, he'd have all the power in the world to take anything, do anything to Vivian, he…didn't want to force anything. That'd defeat the point, and the satisfaction gained would ring hollow, fleeting.

But as Vivian responded, Velho blinked himself out of his thoughts. "Apparently so. The Crux is not necessary to life, but without it, an Inari or Boggart probably won't make it very far. They're visually distinct and use their Seeming to blend in– if your client didn't kill them, they likely won't last long without it 'fore they're strung up unless they've another way to disguise themselves, or somebody powerful willing to defend them."

Velho nodded to what the young mage said about what he was made to consume. "Yes, though without Rusalka, many with Seeming don't find their Imprints bleeding into them like you do," he began.

"The magic at its core simply allows you to transform into a copy of, or assume aspects and abilities of, whatever it was you Imprinted upon. You can even do this with other people, though such requires eating a part of them, too."

He'd listen patiently to Vivian again as he further explained his predicament, his leg twitching slightly when touched, but it'd be clear from the way the muscle tensed and then softened that he liked it.

"Rusalka is…well, in a sense, it is what maddens you. You're compelled to feed in that, um, particular manner likely from your Imprints, but the Rusalka in you lusts after strong emotion. You siphon away Saol, or life energy, from others when you make them feel things. I imagine the sheer terror of being eaten alive suffices, or the pleasures of their climax all the same– each of those activities will serve equally in allowing you to feed on them…though only one necessarily invites death," he punctuated his explanation with a short laugh.

Vivian's predicament saddened the elder Blighted. Among Ælheim's Blighted, each surviving fledgling was considered an investment, and they were all educated and trained as such; to make one and then promptly abandon them was anathema to him. But, he supposed, there was some silver lining– Vivian had survived, and such circumstances were what had led this precious little one to his home.

The Scourge would lift one of his hands to cup Vivian's cheek, his thumb running over his soft skin. "...but it's not just feeding. Rusalka gives you many boons by nature, and opens the door to spells you might've already been using unintentionally. Have you noticed anything like the ability to create auras of emotional influence, the ability to sift varying degrees of information from those you touch, the ability to induce an intoxicating high through touch, or similar...?"

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

Vivian settled back on his heels, drawing his hand down Velho's thigh. He slowly pulled the man's calf toward him, beginning to bathe his skin. He rubbed his fingers gently into Velho's flesh as he did so, massaging his muscles with the warm water. The man felt so delicate that Vivian was gentle with him, stroking down toward his feet so he could explore him at his leisure. Last night he had been too mad with lust. It was also a good excuse to ruminate over the man's words as he touched him, rubbing and bathing Velho's leg, then reaching for the other.

"So the Crux lets me take aspects of the worms I was fed. It explains why I don't…I don't tear into people. The worm wants them alive. Squirming. Sucks them down into its gut and lets them kick. I vomit up bones and the like a few days later…but they're clean as polished stones." Vivian muttered, lifting Velho's foot to kiss it affectionately. "I savor their terror, their last moments as they stop kicking. I didn't know that's where I was feeding."

It gave him much to think about. Vivian picked up a sponge and turned his back to Velho, offering it to him to bathe his back. "Well.." he rolled the question around on his tongue. "I do have something that grew in my throat a few months ago."

Vivian tilted his head back, and opened up his mouth. Soft, grayish tendrils unfurled from behind his tonsils, settling at the corners of his mouth and shivering slightly. Pheromones poured into the air. Relax. Rest. It was a siren's call, beckoning whomever inhaled the pheromones closer. Closer. Just let him taste you. Let him slide you down that soft throat.

Give in.

Vivian twitched, and swallowed thickly. The organs shriveled, like an erection suddenly gone soft, and folded back into his mouth. He swallowed again, rearranging himself with a roll of his tongue. He looked over his shoulder at Velho. "Like that..? My body is changing…little bits at a time. The more I give in, the more I change. Like that cocoon last night. It's only the second time I've been able to make one like that."

​

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Velho appeared happy to just let Vivian touch him, his own hand falling back into the water. The young man was cautious, considerate, sweet with his movements, and it felt incredibly pleasant. A soft smile crept across his lips, and his body remained relaxed, pliant, when the other shifted him as he went. Because while Velho had already bathed earlier that day, far be it from him to shy away from something like this. He smiled as he was kissed, too, happy for the affection.

But he'd nod as Vivian explained more about how he fed, "...mm, yes– sounds like your Glamour and the curse have woven together with time, without your deliberation. Perhaps because you obtained them both at once…?" he wondered aloud.

The Scourge would take the proffered sponge, himself happy to use this as an excuse to touch the other. He would bathe Vivian with one hand, and the other appeared content to glide over soft skin, exploring the contours of the boy's back. But when Vivian deigned to show him another strange quirk of his, his movements would pause as he peered over and into the other's mouth. It was, in many ways, as beautiful as it was strange. But this was not something he'd witnessed on any Rusalka, though the scent of it did remind him of their intoxicating enchantments, in a way.

"Hm…I'm, ah, admittedly not very familiar with worms and the like– though I do admire the tiny creatures of the world, fascinating as they can be. I can, however, tell you that sort of manifestation comes across as, at the very least, a conduit through which you're channeling the magic of your Blight," he tried to explain. "It's…fascinating, really, how you've adapted to both, how they've combined."

For Velho, his magics had woven together over the years, too, but in his case, they had done so very much deliberately. It interested him to see the way somebody who'd been entirely ignorant of their quirks had developed.

"You'll continue to shift and grow with time," Velho said with a wan smile. "Only now, you'll be aware of why, and thus be able to adapt better, even manipulate those changes if you so desire," he said, the velvet of his voice woven with threads of encouragement.

But he'd continue, "that…cocoon you made was a fascinating little trick, I…it suited the moment well." He was not entirely sure how he wanted to phrase his point.

The Ferrier leaned closer to Vivian, resting his chest against the other's back and his cheek against the curve of the young man's neck. His arms had wrapped around him, and his free hand pressed gently against Vivian's belly, while the other one with the sponge dragged slowly across his chest. The scent of those pheromones had made him crave more contact.

"I…adapting to my own predicament took years," he murmured. He'd had to deal with equally dramatic changes from both Scourge and then Devorare alike.

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

Vivian smiled, closing his eyes and lavishing in the attention. The touch. "Could you teach me how to adapt more of what they are? I've heard some are venomous, some can regenerate limbs and swallow prey ten times their size." He mumbled, body relaxed and lavishing in the attention he was getting. Velho was embracing him, nuzzling into the back of his neck and stroking over his belly with long, graceful fingers.

"The ashes you turned into, right?" Vivian asked, gently taking Velho's hand on his belly. He directed it lower, between his legs. "Is that why you came like a horse? I haven't been…filled that much in such a long time."

Vivian shivered in remembrance. "And you made a tendril too. Mine aren't as muscular, they're…well, I can show you." He whispered. The flesh along his right shoulder twitched, twisted unnaturally. It grew smooth and slimy, discolored. A long length of slimy skin emerged, ringed in muscle, and pale orange streaked in black. The tendril reached back to cradle Velho's cheek. "They're pretty, I think."

Vivian shifted, lifting himself up slightly so he could sit in Velho's lap. "What do I need to do..? If I'm going to be your apprentice, you mean. Suck you off under your desk? Have you mount me on a shrine?" He giggled. "I'm not quite sure what one does with magic, other than enjoy how good it feels."

​

 

[Velho]

<notes>

"I could help you with that, yes, though it'd be easier if you could identify what exactly you've Imprinted upon? I've books on the subject, for if I ever needed to identify anything. There's illustrations, you could sift through pages until you've found what you remember," he suggested. "I'd be capable of mending any injury caused through experimentation, but still."

Vivian's next pair of questions made Velho chuckle awkwardly, his muscles tensing briefly out of embarrassment. "I'm twice cursed– the Ashes are from one called Scourge, and the…the…excess of seed was, I think, from another called Devorare; I…didn't do that part intentionally." His mind was far beyond making choices with much thought behind them in that moment.

And when Vivian pushed his hand lower, he obliged, graceful fingers finding their way down. They'd trace over the musculature of the boy's thigh briefly before his hand moved to explore, gently fondling the soft parts between his legs. The night before, he hadn't quite had the opportunity to do so properly.

Velho listened to the inquiry about the tendril, and then lifted his head to watch Vivian grow his own; he leaned into its touch. It was pretty…some aspect of a worm? Had to be, but he couldn't identify what.

"Mine is a careful marriage of another type of Arcana from a branch of spirit-magic called Poetics, something called Apparation, and what I mentioned before, Devorare." his mind wanted him to over-explain, to just dump information onto the other, but he realized that could be…overwhelming. "You could make tendrils with either alone, but combined, they become really rather flexible with what I can do with them."

The same tendril from before sprouted from the top of the lumbar region of his spine, and it coiled around the both of them in turn. "I am able to grow a few of them, reshape them like clay, alter the skin to different types of tissue, shift the nerve patterns, sensory receptors, so on. They're…really rather useful," he'd add.

"Vicissitude, or fleshcraft, has always been my favorite part of Devorare," he said with a soft, pleased sort of hum, "...and Scourge invites beautiful decay, lets me communicate and interact with the dead." He spoke of his Blights with ample affection, lovingly, almost.

But then, Vivian asked him another series of questions, causing him to tense a bit again. "I…historically, my libido has been…incredibly low," or was it that he'd suppressed it from lack of opportunity?

He felt his face flush again, something stirring between his own legs. "Would you actually want to do those things with me?" He was still in denial that Vivian was sincerely attracted to him. Still, he welcomed the other man into his lap.

"As an apprentice, a fledgling in my care, I wouldn't force you. What I'd like is to teach you about the Blighted, of Alíthea. Help you develop your spellweaving, and help you carve your own niche in this world, whether alongside me or somewhere else entirely. Because…you must keep these things secret. If you don't, our betters will find you and pluck you like a flower, and there is nothing even I could do to stop the fall of that guillotine." He paused.

And realizing he didn't want to overwhelm the other, "I realize all of that is a lot, though, so we can take things slowly."

 

[Vivian Kreine]

​

Vivian gave a sardonic little laugh. "It would have to be pictures; I can't read." He admitted. "I suppose it would be a good idea to figure out exactly what he fed me. I can remember little bits and pieces, but nothing concrete." That awful night. Whores died in horrific ways; that was just the way of the world. They attracted every type of sadist, and no one seemed to care if they just disappeared or were found mutilated in the street. This gift was a strange choice for one such sadist, but Vivian intended to find out exactly what he'd been given, and why. Just enough to strangle the rotten bastard who hadn't asked permission.

"Mmm I like Devorare. We can keep it around. I noticed you side stepped the blood drinking, though." Vivian said teasingly, sighing contentedly as Velho toyed between his legs. He wasn't going to be soft for much longer being touched like that; he was already stirring. He felt the familiar hug of Velho's tendril around him again, and sent his own to greet it with tentative, stroking touches. "I don't think I can craft like you. These feel so natural the way they are, forcing them into another shape feels wrong."

Vivian searched a bit, finding the end of Velho's tendril, and curled a finger around it. He brought it up to kiss, remembering how strongly Velho had responded before. "I do so love your creations." He whispered, chuckling as the other man awkwardly explained his innocence. What fun this was! A mage inexperienced in sex as he was inexperienced in magic. Operating off of instinct and need. It was charming.

Vivian turned around to face Velho, planting himself in his lap with his legs coiled around Velho's hips. "If I didn't want to do those things with you, I wouldn't have. I'd have fought or tried to eat you. Though, strangely, a client once asked to be put down my throat…as long as I brought him back up again." Vivian snickered. "I like you, Velho. I wish you'd actually believe that."

He slithered off, settling on his knees in the tub, and smiled up at Velho. "Yes, Master. I can keep my mouth occupied. So…so happily." He whispered, ducking his head under the water and between Velho's legs.

Blowjobs always helped him think, anyway. Our betters will find you? What had that meant? Had he been wandering around all this time, blithely offering strange sex just to keep food in his belly, when he could have been in danger from other mages? He counted himself lucky he went after low rent clients, the sort of perverts who found him via rumor.

​

 

[Vicissitude]

꧁══════════• ༺༉ { Reviewed/Canon } ༉༻•══════════꧂​

Vivian

+19 XP (~1,900 WC)

Velho

+28 XP (~2,800 WC)

Vivian is so lascivious; I love it. :>​

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