Flexible Survival - User contributions [en]

Social Actions

2023-01-18T00:27:16Z

Slippery Richard: /* Performing Social Actions */ Eureka pilot has been rolled into Pilot to Outlying Cities

==Overview==
Social actions are a relatively new feature introduced to allow player to collect XP and freecred using their knowledge skills rather than combat or RP. By visiting these cities, one may safely wander the streets without fear of being attacked, making it perfect for players of all levels. In various buildings within these cities, there are jobs one may perform, if they have the correct knowledge skills to accommodate said job. When the job is performed, you get a dice roll. The higher your skill, the higher chance you have to succeed and possibly critically succeed! You'll be rewarded with XP, cred, and influence aplenty.

=== Jobs List ===
Currently, there are jobs to be done in the following areas; This is not a complete list!
*[[Clairmont]], and the associated [[Clairmont_Jobs]]
*[[Eureka]] city and the associated [[Eureka_Jobs]]
*[[Hare town]], and the associated [[Haretown_jobs]]
*[[Cat town]], and the associated [[Cattown_jobs]]

==Performing Social Actions==
Before starting, it's assumed that the player has at least one knowledge skill. These are obtained by purchasing [[Professions]], which give three skills a piece. For more info, type '''help professions''' within your client.

To go to either Eureka or Clairmont, venture to the Zephyr lobby and type '''talk pilot to outlying cities''', then accept a ride to the city of your choosing. Clairmont may also be directly accessed by entering '''talk clairmont pilot''' at the main intersection of [[New Dawn]]. Note that [[Woodfield]] does not presently have Social Actions, and is accessible by the Pilot to Outlying Cities as an in-character method of getting to the former home of [[RSX]].

Either way, you'll be dropped off in the starting area of the city. Now you only need a job that suits you! [http://www.flexiblesurvival.com/index?mapping Jobs] are dependent on your skills, so you should choose one that fits your highest skills for the best rewards.

Once you've found a job, head out to the location and type '''sa list'''. This shall bring up all the jobs in that area you're able to perform. Now that you know the job name, type '''sa <job name>''' and you'll automatically perform your job at the cost of patrol points with ease! You'll find a rather large amount of XP and freecred as your reward.

==Leveling Jobs==
Every time you perform a job, you receive some job XP along with regular XP. Eventually, you'll be able to level that job up, which allows you to take higher level jobs that provide greater rewards, but require higher skills to perform successfully. A message will be displayed if you have enough job XP to level up, but it can be easy to miss at times. If you believe you have enough XP, type '''sa train''' and a list of jobs shall be displayed. If one says you have enough XP, go ahead and type the job name in to level up! Each job can be leveled up to a maximum of your skill level.

==Social Puzzle - Mastermind==
When performing a job, it's rare that one may receive a little puzzle akin to the game Mastermind. If this puzzle is completed, you'll receive a very large amount of rewards for your troubles. The objective of the game is to try and deduce the hidden combination of numbers. To guess a combination, type '''sapuzzle <four digit combination>'''. After your guess, there may or may not be two numbers on both side. The number on the left represents how many correct numbers are in the correct spot. The right number represents how many numbers are correct, but in the wrong spot. If a correct number is in the correct spot, it shall not appear on the right number.

==Influence==
Each job performance shall yield a certain amount of influence that can be used in two main ways: Gathering salvage and research. Additional information can be found with '''help influence''' Entering a hostile area and typing '''inf list''' will show how much people have influenced in an area. At the bottom, it shall also show how much influence you have. By using '''inf spend #''', you can spend your influence to compete against others. Over time, you'll automatically receive salvage dependent on the area.

Influence may also be used on research topics. '''+research <topic>''' will bring up an option to allow you to spend your hard earned influence.

Additionally, the [[Social Networker]] merit will yield influence by the act of roleplaying.

==Jobs==
The list of jobs is available in a social action area with the command <code>sa list</code>

The skills related to each job can be determined by finding jobs that you are able to perform. Here is a summary table:

{| class="wikitable"
|-
!Job
!Skills
|-
|Adventurer
|Legends
|-
|Architect
|Design
|-
|Ascetic
|Willpower
|-
|Artisan
|Design
|-
|Banker
|Comprehension
|-
|Bartender
|Empathy
|-
|Bodyguard
|Intimidation
|-
|Bureaucrat
|Management
|-
|Cat Life
|Climbing, Fortitude, Perception, Stealth, Sexual + Physical Endowments
|-
|Community Worker
|
|-
|Cow Girl
|Physical Endowments
|-
|Diplomat
|Negotiation
|-
|Doctor
|Medicine
|-
|Engineer
|Installation
|-
|Executive
|Management
|-
|Farmer
|None
|-
|Geneticist
|Xeno
|-
|Guard
|Management
|-
|Hunter
|Survival
|-
|Inventor
|Research
|-
|Lawyer
|Management
|-
|Librarian
|History
|-
|Loan Shark
|Intimidation
|-
|Masseuse
|Sexual
|-
|Miner
|Strength
|-
|Nanomagic Researcher
|Computer
|-
|Philosopher
|History
|-
|Psychologist
|Medicine
|-
|Roboticist
|Computer
|-
|Scientist
|Research
|-
|Scout
|Survival
|-
|Security Officer
|Security
|-
|Shopkeeper
|Economics
|-
|Sociologist
|Xeno
|-
|Soldier
|Strength, Strength + Marksmanship
|-
|Storyteller
|Legends
|-
|Street Lord
|Underworld
|-
|Supernatural Researcher
|Theology
|-
|Teacher
|Comprehension
|-
|Technician
|Computer
|-
|Thief
|Underworld
|-
|Trader
|Economics
|-
|Trapper
|Security
|-
|Worker
|Installation
|}

[[Category:Guides]]

Armored Pinscher

2022-06-25T02:52:23Z

Slippery Richard: Created page. Added powers, sizes, tags, sayverb, and description tests.

{{Monster Profile
|head=[[Bleeding Bite]]
|torso=[[Muscle Mass]], [[Myriad Armor]]
|arms=[[Raking Claws]]
|legs=[[Spur Slash]]
|tail=[[Erotic Dance]]
|skin=[[Furry Hide]]
|groin=
|cocks=0
|cock length=8
|cunts=2
|cunt length=15
|clits=2
|clit length=8
|balls=0
|ball size=0
|height=5
|mass=140%
|breasts=4
|breast size=25
|gender=Female
|sayverb=menacingly growls
|flags=[[Anthro]], [[Biped]], [[Canid]], [[Female]], [[Hybrid]], [[Insect]]
|supports= [[Kemonomimi]]
|forms=?
|location_not_allowed=
|description=The {{FULLPAGENAME}}'s overall appearance is that of a muscular, anthropomorphic, brown-furred canine with significant insect-like features. Notably, it has natural blades and bronze-like chitin over portions of its body. It also has eyes extended on well-protected stalks from its face, which those newly infected with this form often have trouble controlling.
}}If you lose to one in combat, there's decent odds that they're actually a friendly, named NPC that only appears for the after-combat message... not dependable odds. Only decent odds.

Anthro Goat

2022-06-24T13:48:08Z

Slippery Richard: Created page. Added description, powers, sizes, sayverb, and tags. And obligatory Undertale references.

{{Monster Profile
|head=[[Headbutt]]
|torso=[[Lactaid]], [[Solid Frame]]
|arms=[[Group Hug]]
|legs=[[Foot Stomp]]
|tail=[[Extra Girth]]
|skin=[[Furry Hide]]
|groin=[[Reinforcing Nectar]]
|cocks=0
|cock length=0
|cunts=1
|cunt length=19
|clits=1
|clit length=5
|balls=0
|ball size=0
|height=5
|mass=115%
|breasts=2
|breast size=20
|gender=Female
|sayverb=bleats softly
|flags=[[Anthro]], [[Biped]], [[Caprine]], [[Female]]
|supports= [[Kemonomimi]], Scent
|forms=?
|location_not_allowed=
|description=The {{FULLPAGENAME}} is a (at the time of publication) rare form, sporadically seen in the wild. Sightings will be reported in the Monster Bounties broadcast into the Market comms channel. The form itself is that of a thickset anthropomorphic goat with a very motherly appearance and disposition, and occasionally the verbal tic of calling others their "child" regardless of relations. Field agents have noted that Anthro Goats seem intent on serving agents an entirely euphemistic 'pie' if allowed to have their way.
}}In the FS universe, Toby Fox was likely too busy being an actual fox to make his breakout hit game. This is the best consolation the nanites can offer.

Celestial Attendant

2022-06-24T13:17:39Z

Slippery Richard: Added description. Added supports. Hinted extremely vaguely at the general region where the form should be looked for.

{{Monster Profile
|head=[[Defiance]], [[Solar Ray]]
|torso=[[Howl]], [[Vitality]]
|arms=[[Gouging Claws]]
|legs=[[Spur Slash]]
|tail=-
|skin=[[Furry Hide]]
|groin=-
|cocks=?
|cock length=?
|cunts=?
|cunt length=?
|clits=?
|clit length=?
|balls=?
|ball size=?
|height=5
|mass=100%
|breasts=?
|breast size=?
|gender=Neuter
|sayverb=warmly intones
|flags=[[Anthro]], [[Biped]], [[Canid]], [[Dragon]], [[Feline]], [[Hybrid]], [[Vulpine]]
|supports= [[Color Chooser]], [[Kemonomimi]], [[Tail Divider]]
|forms=?
|location_not_allowed=
|description=The {{FULLPAGENAME}} is a hybrid vulpine/draconic form with blue fur, glowing eyes, and a slim build. Notable for being somewhat supernatural and only attainable by agents in a singular, well hidden cave east of Fairhaven.
}}

It's a see-cret. :P

Useful Mudlet scripts and macro

2021-11-02T20:20:52Z

Slippery Richard: /* Exemple */ Corrected spelling. Section is now Example

This pages' purpose is to share useful scripts, triggers, and macros for the MUD client [[Mudlet]]

== SendSequence(...) ==
A LUA function to repeat a series of memorized commands. Useful to go back to lobby from your home point or to macro together one of your daily routine

=== Code ===
Must be saved in your mudlet "Scripts" Profile

function SendSequence(interval, ...)
local offset = 0
for i = 1, select('#', ...) do
if type(select(i, ...)) == "number" then
offset = offset + select(i, ...) - interval
elseif type(select(i, ...)) == "table" then
local tab = select(i, ...)
offset = SendSequence(interval, offset + interval, unpack(tab))
else
<nowiki>tempTimer(offset, [[send("]] .. select(i, ...) .. [[", true)]])</nowiki>
echo("delayed (" .. offset .. "): send(\"" .. select(i, ...) .. "\")\n")
offset = offset + interval
end
end
return offset
end

=== Arguments ===
* interval: the default time to wait between each command, be careful as some commands make the server die more that others
* ...: a nested list of commands string to send to the server. numbers are interpreted as additional wait time

=== Example ===
Recall to Zephyr studies (where you turn in the behavior bounty) as a Quetzalcoatl dedicant:

SendSequence(0.1, "recall", 3, "o", "b") -- recall takes a long time to process, so we wait 3s to let the server process it before moving on the map

Use some predefined Sequences:

-- in your Scripts profile
Sequences = {}
Sequences.ZephyrStudies = {"recall", 3, "o", "b"}

-- anywhere else:
SendSequence(0.1, Sequences.ZephyrStudies)

Combine Sequences to reach the RSX crafting room from somewhere very far:

-- in your Scripts profile
Sequences = {}
Sequences.ZephyrStudies = {"recall", 3, "o", "b"}
Sequences.Zephyr = {Sequences.ZephyrStudies, "e", "u"}
Sequences.RSX = {Sequences.Zephyr, "depart", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "n", "n", "n", "n", "n", "e", "enter"}
Sequences.RSXCraftingRoom = {Sequences.RSX, "d", "e"}

-- anywhere else
SendSequence(0.1, Sequences.RSXCraftingRoom)

== Link preview trigger ==
A trigger turning image URLs into clickable links that will open a popup on the side of your screen when clicked with a preview

=== Trigger parameters ===
* line 1: (?i)(?:http(?:s?):\/\/)([\/.\w\s\-~]*)\.(jpg|gif|png|webp)
* Set line 1 dropdown menu on right side to "perl regex"
* leave everything else as default

=== Trigger script ===
local link = matches[1]
local explodedPath = Split( matches[2] .. "." .. matches[3], "/")
local file = explodedPath[#explodedPath]

downloadFile(getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file, link)
selectString(link,1)
setUnderline(true)
<nowiki>setLink([[showImagePreview("]] .. file .. [[")]],"Show Image Preview")</nowiki>
resetFormat()

=== Additional profile folder ===
* Enter the command "lua getMudletHomeDir()" into your client.
* Create a folder named "Preview Images" in the folder your client indicates using your computer's file explorer program.

=== Code ===
Must be saved in your mudlet "Scripts" Profile. Copy and paste both of these boxes into a single script.

function Split(str, delim, maxNb)
-- Eliminate bad cases...
if string.find(str, delim) == nil then
return { str }
end
if maxNb == nil or maxNb < 1 then
maxNb = 0 -- No limit
end
local result = {}
local pat = "(.-)" .. delim .. "()"
local nb = 0
local lastPos
for part, pos in string.gfind(str, pat) do
nb = nb + 1
result[nb] = part
lastPos = pos
if nb == maxNb then
break
end
end
-- Handle the last field
if nb ~= maxNb then
result[nb + 1] = string.sub(str, lastPos)
end
return result
end

function showImagePreview(file)
local path = getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file

if GlobalCurrentPreview == path then
createMiniConsole("imagePreview", 1200, 0, 0, 0)
GlobalCurrentPreview = nil
else
local w, h = getImageSize(path)
local actualWidth, availableHeight = getMainWindowSize()
local availableWidth = actualWidth - 1100;

if w > availableWidth then
h = availableWidth / w * h
w = availableWidth
end

if h > availableHeight then
w = availableHeight / h * w
h = availableHeight
end

createMiniConsole("imagePreview", actualWidth - w, 0, w, h)
setBackgroundImage("imagePreview",path)
GlobalCurrentPreview = path
end
end

=== Example ===
Now image links will be underlined. Clicking the links will show a preview in any columns of your client that are set not to have text. Clicking the link again closes the preview.

[[File: Mudlet image Preview Example.png||800px]]

== e621 post preview trigger ==
Making the preview work on non-direct links is a bit harder, but e621 API is so easy to use that I might as well make one for it. '''NOTE''': this trigger is based upon, and relies on [[#Link preview trigger|Link preview trigger]] to function

=== Trigger parameters ===
* line 1: (?i)(?:http(?:s?):\/\/(?:e621|e926)\.net\/posts\/)(\d+) with type "perl regex"
* leave everything else as default

=== Trigger script ===
local textToSelect = matches[1]
<nowiki>local post = "https://e621.net/posts/" .. matches[2] .. ".json"</nowiki>
local triggeredLineNumber = getLineNumber()

local handlerId
handlerId = registerAnonymousEventHandler("sysGetHttpDone", function(_, url, body)
if url == post then
killAnonymousEventHandler(handlerId)

local json = yajl.to_value(body)
local link = json.post.file.url

local explodedPath = Split(link, "/")
local file = explodedPath[#explodedPath]

downloadFile(getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file, link)

moveCursor(0, triggeredLineNumber)
selectString(textToSelect,1)
setUnderline(true)
<nowiki>setLink([[showImagePreview("]] .. file .. [[")]],"Show Image Preview")</nowiki>
resetFormat()
moveCursorEnd()

end
end)

getHTTP(post)
<nowiki>tempTimer(5, [[killAnonymousEventHandler(]] .. handlerId .. [[)]])</nowiki>

[[Category:UI Guides]]

Useful Mudlet scripts and macro

2021-11-02T20:19:55Z

Slippery Richard: /* Link preview trigger */ Cleaned this up for ease of comprehension. Many thanks to Tacomera!

This pages' purpose is to share useful scripts, triggers, and macros for the MUD client [[Mudlet]]

== SendSequence(...) ==
A LUA function to repeat a series of memorized commands. Useful to go back to lobby from your home point or to macro together one of your daily routine

=== Code ===
Must be saved in your mudlet "Scripts" Profile

function SendSequence(interval, ...)
local offset = 0
for i = 1, select('#', ...) do
if type(select(i, ...)) == "number" then
offset = offset + select(i, ...) - interval
elseif type(select(i, ...)) == "table" then
local tab = select(i, ...)
offset = SendSequence(interval, offset + interval, unpack(tab))
else
<nowiki>tempTimer(offset, [[send("]] .. select(i, ...) .. [[", true)]])</nowiki>
echo("delayed (" .. offset .. "): send(\"" .. select(i, ...) .. "\")\n")
offset = offset + interval
end
end
return offset
end

=== Arguments ===
* interval: the default time to wait between each command, be careful as some commands make the server die more that others
* ...: a nested list of commands string to send to the server. numbers are interpreted as additional wait time

=== Exemple ===
Recall to Zephyr studies (where you turn in the behavior bounty) as a Quetzalcoatl dedicant:

SendSequence(0.1, "recall", 3, "o", "b") -- recall takes a long time to process, so we wait 3s to let the server process it before moving on the map

Use some predefined Sequences:

-- in your Scripts profile
Sequences = {}
Sequences.ZephyrStudies = {"recall", 3, "o", "b"}

-- anywhere else:
SendSequence(0.1, Sequences.ZephyrStudies)

Combine Sequences to reach the RSX crafting room from somewhere very far:

-- in your Scripts profile
Sequences = {}
Sequences.ZephyrStudies = {"recall", 3, "o", "b"}
Sequences.Zephyr = {Sequences.ZephyrStudies, "e", "u"}
Sequences.RSX = {Sequences.Zephyr, "depart", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "e", "n", "n", "n", "n", "n", "e", "enter"}
Sequences.RSXCraftingRoom = {Sequences.RSX, "d", "e"}

-- anywhere else
SendSequence(0.1, Sequences.RSXCraftingRoom)

== Link preview trigger ==
A trigger turning image URLs into clickable links that will open a popup on the side of your screen when clicked with a preview

=== Trigger parameters ===
* line 1: (?i)(?:http(?:s?):\/\/)([\/.\w\s\-~]*)\.(jpg|gif|png|webp)
* Set line 1 dropdown menu on right side to "perl regex"
* leave everything else as default

=== Trigger script ===
local link = matches[1]
local explodedPath = Split( matches[2] .. "." .. matches[3], "/")
local file = explodedPath[#explodedPath]

downloadFile(getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file, link)
selectString(link,1)
setUnderline(true)
<nowiki>setLink([[showImagePreview("]] .. file .. [[")]],"Show Image Preview")</nowiki>
resetFormat()

=== Additional profile folder ===
* Enter the command "lua getMudletHomeDir()" into your client.
* Create a folder named "Preview Images" in the folder your client indicates using your computer's file explorer program.

=== Code ===
Must be saved in your mudlet "Scripts" Profile. Copy and paste both of these boxes into a single script.

function Split(str, delim, maxNb)
-- Eliminate bad cases...
if string.find(str, delim) == nil then
return { str }
end
if maxNb == nil or maxNb < 1 then
maxNb = 0 -- No limit
end
local result = {}
local pat = "(.-)" .. delim .. "()"
local nb = 0
local lastPos
for part, pos in string.gfind(str, pat) do
nb = nb + 1
result[nb] = part
lastPos = pos
if nb == maxNb then
break
end
end
-- Handle the last field
if nb ~= maxNb then
result[nb + 1] = string.sub(str, lastPos)
end
return result
end

function showImagePreview(file)
local path = getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file

if GlobalCurrentPreview == path then
createMiniConsole("imagePreview", 1200, 0, 0, 0)
GlobalCurrentPreview = nil
else
local w, h = getImageSize(path)
local actualWidth, availableHeight = getMainWindowSize()
local availableWidth = actualWidth - 1100;

if w > availableWidth then
h = availableWidth / w * h
w = availableWidth
end

if h > availableHeight then
w = availableHeight / h * w
h = availableHeight
end

createMiniConsole("imagePreview", actualWidth - w, 0, w, h)
setBackgroundImage("imagePreview",path)
GlobalCurrentPreview = path
end
end

=== Example ===
Now image links will be underlined. Clicking the links will show a preview in any columns of your client that are set not to have text. Clicking the link again closes the preview.

[[File: Mudlet image Preview Example.png||800px]]

== e621 post preview trigger ==
Making the preview work on non-direct links is a bit harder, but e621 API is so easy to use that I might as well make one for it. '''NOTE''': this trigger is based upon, and relies on [[#Link preview trigger|Link preview trigger]] to function

=== Trigger parameters ===
* line 1: (?i)(?:http(?:s?):\/\/(?:e621|e926)\.net\/posts\/)(\d+) with type "perl regex"
* leave everything else as default

=== Trigger script ===
local textToSelect = matches[1]
<nowiki>local post = "https://e621.net/posts/" .. matches[2] .. ".json"</nowiki>
local triggeredLineNumber = getLineNumber()

local handlerId
handlerId = registerAnonymousEventHandler("sysGetHttpDone", function(_, url, body)
if url == post then
killAnonymousEventHandler(handlerId)

local json = yajl.to_value(body)
local link = json.post.file.url

local explodedPath = Split(link, "/")
local file = explodedPath[#explodedPath]

downloadFile(getMudletHomeDir() .. "/Preview Images/" .. file, link)

moveCursor(0, triggeredLineNumber)
selectString(textToSelect,1)
setUnderline(true)
<nowiki>setLink([[showImagePreview("]] .. file .. [[")]],"Show Image Preview")</nowiki>
resetFormat()
moveCursorEnd()

end
end)

getHTTP(post)
<nowiki>tempTimer(5, [[killAnonymousEventHandler(]] .. handlerId .. [[)]])</nowiki>

[[Category:UI Guides]]

Firecracker's Fructose-Fueled Fling

2020-02-14T14:30:08Z

Slippery Richard: Created page.

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Firecracker]]
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]]

=Date=
2/04/2020

=Log=

Richard, who looks pleasantly human for the first time in what seems like weeks, is sitting at the bar in the lobby of the Red Court and silently sipping a soft drink of some sort. Behind the counter, the goo girl bartender goes about cleaning glasses. Neither of them seem to be in any sort of a bad mood, but they definitely aren't jumping for joy. It's just another day in Fairhaven with not much going on.

Firecracker flitterflaps into the room in the same fashion as usual, zipping right on in and looking around to all the stuff and things the place has to offer. Then she spots a guy at a bar, and a goo girl too! And they have drinks! Well at least one of them does. The little pink pegasus is pretty suddenly on the countertop, poking the drink with a forehoof as it sits on the counter. "Hiya! Whatcha drinkin'? Is it good? Can I have some?" she asks rapidly, standing up on her hindlegs to place her forehooves over the rim of the drink and poke her muzzle up above it to sniff at it.

Richard blinks in surprise before collecting himself to say, "Hello. Cream soda. Yes. Also yes." He looks towards the transparent green bartender and asks her, "Jade, would you get another for her on my tab?"

The goo girl is sliding one of those pizza-thingies across the countertop to the tiny pony. You know, the thingie that's supposed to keep the top of the pizza box from hitting the pizza and getting cheese stuck everywhere? I'm sure you've seen it before. It looks like a tiny table, and 'Jade,' as Richard called her, uses it for exactly that by placing a teensy glass of the same soda on top of it. "Micros drink for free," she states, "But I charge extra for mixed drinks."

Before he can even order the new drink, Firecracker is already dunking her face into his glass and slurping up the sweetness. Even with her face in the glass, her ear flicks at the sound of the little table and drink being poured for her. "Ahhh~!" she says as she comes up from the glass, face covered in soda and belly full of it. She uses her long tongue to circle all around her face to draw up the remaining liquid into her mouth. "Thanks!"

Richard is silently grateful that he didn't have to pay for her drink, and that there don't appear to be any stray strands of micro mare mane in his drink. "That's a neat tongue trick. Mine's not nearly that long when I've got the Puny Pegasus infection," He compliments. On the outside he looks calm and ready to pet ponks, but he keeps on forgetting- actually, he *can't* forget how bloated he gets when he drinks fizzy stuff as a micro, and given that Firecracker seems to operate on cartoon physics…

Whatever Richard was expecting to happen, doesn't. Instead, the little pink pony seems to start vibrating in place slightly as she stands against the glass. "Oh hey that's really sweet and tasty and bubbly and creamy and kinda vanilla-y and I never had this before and what was it called again? Oh wait ya never said what it was called didja? Oh lemme guess! Is it Vanilla Surpise? Sweet Fizz? Creamy Bubbler?" she rapid-fires, at the human as she bounces in place.

Behind the bar, Jade looks on in concern, backing away and putting loose glasses safely inside of the cabinets. Richard had been expecting a disproportionately large belch, though the comedic whims of the universe seem to have had other ideas. "Cream soda," he repeats to the resonating and reduced-in-size mini-mare. He is definitely not freaking out internally at the beast he has inadvertently unleashed upon Fairhaven. Gods help us all, Firecracker is having a sugar rush.

"Oh! Creamy soda! Yeah! Hehehe! That makes lotsa sense! Cause it's all creamy and soda-y too! So of course it's cream soda! Hehehehe!" Firecracker happily giggles at the obviousness of the appropriately-named beverage. "Oh yeah! I forgot to tell ya! I'm Firecracker! What's your name?" the mini mare asks, jumping up into the air and hovering in place much like a hummingbird as she holds out a hoof in greeting.

Richard holds out a single finger for her to shake. It'll probably grow back. "I'm Richard. We've, uh, met before. Granted I looked different almost every time, but we have. Mostly on Taco Tuesdays." In his head, he's trying to figure out some way to defuse this bomb he's armed. None of his ideas are particularly safe or good, but they're ideas. "So... I take it you like sugar?"

Firecracker grasps that finger with her hoof... somehow, and gives it a vigorous shaking. "Goodta meetcha Richy! Again I guess! Oh yeah tht makes sense though cause Tuesdays are for tacos and lotsa people can meet other people when tacos are around! Uh huh! I love sugar! Like cupcakes and cookies and regular cakes and pancakes and pans but not to eat pans but pans so that you can cook things in them like pancakes! Hehehehe~!" The whole time she's speaking, she's still shaking that finger.

Nothing in that finger has snapped - yet. "Yeah, I thought you might like it. Uh... quick question: is diabetes still a thing out here? You know, sugar overdose?" Richard asks. "I don't think I've heard of it being a thing, but you seem pretty close to going overboard. Might want to slow down a little. Maybe we should go outside, or up to the rooftop pool, or something? How does that sound to you?"

"I have no idea! But if there's one thing I know for sure is like they always say you can never have too much of a good thing! So obviously more sugar is more betterer! Hehehehe~! Oh wait, how am I gunna go overboard? I'm not even on a boat, Silly! Or are we gunna go up to the pool to get on a boat so we can go overboard? Like pirates! Yaaaar! Walk the plank matey! Hehehehe! That sounds super fun! Oh I can think of other super fun things to do too! Like didja know there's a dungeon downstairs? I bet that we can go adventuring and get treasure!" Firecracker babbles on and on, still shaking that finger.

Richard's finger starts to feel sore. He chugs the rest of his drink with his other hand while Jade hides away anything with a trace of caffeine in it. "I've been down in that dungeon. There's only two rooms and the treasure down there is more of a metaphorical 'the friends we made along the way' kind of treasure." Though they might have a cage small enough to contain 1 (one) hyperactive poni… "Though, uh, you know what they say about how magical and precious friendships are. Let's go have an adventure!" He says with semi-sincere enthusiasm.

"Yay! Adventure Time! Friendship is magic! Other shows that don't even exist in this universe but to heck with it!" Firecracker cheers out happily and jumps up onto Richard's shoulder, bouncing in place as she waits for her steed to go forth and conquer the dungeon of metaphysics or whatever. "Onwards and downwards!" she announces, pointing a forehoof forth heroically.

It's not every day that one becomes a horse's steed, but here we are. "Yes! Forth we shall sally!" Richard exclaims, trying to ignore the fabric of reality that Firecracker fiddled with to have knowledge of those shows. Instead, he preempts her by saying, "I don't know whether the 'Sally' in 'sally forth' is supposed to be a name or a verb," tacking on a, "Do you know any Sally Forths? Or Thirds, or Fifths?" as he starts to descend towards the dungeon with pony in tow. Sounds like he's getting less anxious. He must think he's getting some control of the situation. Let's see how wrong he is about that.

Once the door to the dungeon closes behind the bantering buddies, Jade lets loose a sigh of relief so strong that her goopy body droops a bit.

Firecracker bounces excitedly on Richard's shoulder as he walks off towards the dungeon. "Nope! No Sally Sixths or Sevenths either! Or any other fractions!" Once they actually make it into the dungeon and she gets a look of what's really down here, here tune changes juuuust a bit. "Hey, this isn't an adventure dungeon! This is a sex dungeon! Unless those are some really really weird clubs that just look like dildos and vibrators and stuff! And they got a whole buncha other stuff too! Like ropes and straps and tables and drains and milkers and all sortsa stuff!" In her observations, her bouncing changes from up and down to more of a grinding of her wetness into his shoulder.

Richard kicks the door shut behind himself to hopefully prevent the tiny terror from fleeing into Fairhaven. She doesn't sound too upset that this isn't the sort of dungeon she was expecting. That scares and arouses Richard. Scarouses? Yeah, that. I don't know when that episode of Futurama came out but we've already established that the fourth wall is optional. Anyway, he feels a wet rubbing through his clothes and can only surmise that it has to do with Firecracker's shift in tone. "Yeah, that's what I meant. It's *that* sort of friendship. I forget, do you know if you were born before P-Day?" He asks, stalling as he looks for a teensy cage to put her safely inside until she calms down. Zilch. Well, he tried. As Firecracker replies, he types out a brief last will and testament to his friends along with an explanation of his situation.

"That's not friendship, Silly! That's sexy funtimes! They're fun and sexy and timey wimey! You can have sexy funtimes with friends though! And pretty much everyone is my friend!" Firecracker says as she keeps looking around. "Oh that? I have no idea! Actually, I dun even know what that is so I can't even tell ya if I even knew when I was born!" She giggles again and then goes into the real good stuff. "So d'ya wanna have fun down here even though there isn't really any treasure except for maybe my special pearl! I dunno if that counts since ya can't really keep it though but ya can play with it anyway, hahahaha! Oh wait maybe ya didn't get it, I meant my itty bitty clitty! Actually it's probably to itty bitty for playing so lemme fix that say whenta stop!" And with that she inhales a nice deep breath, plugs her hoof into her mouth, and then blows. At first her cheeks just puff out, but then the rest of her follows along, growing right there on Richard's shoulder.

"It can be both!" Richard asserts. He's soundly ignored as the chattering continues on. Eventually Firecracker stops to give him an actual opportunity to reply. "Nah, I got your meaning the first t- wait what?" He looks towards the increasing weight on his shoulder and questions any conceptions he had about Firecracker. Could she do that the whole time, or has she become some sort of sugar-infused deity of chaos? He's too stunned to say anything for now, let alone 'when.'

Obviously, to Firecracker anyway, no when means to keep growing! And keep growing means she first gets bigger than a cat, then a dog, then a Richard as she keeps getting bigger. Good thing she's rather light, even when she gets bigger!

Richard watches in horrified arousal... 'horrousal,' if you will, as the previously puny pegapony passes his eye-line. Her increasing weight had forced her to slide off of Richard's shoulder, creating a trail where her cunt passed over the creases of his clothes. "Uh..." he uhs, before he finally realizes he hasn't totally lost control of the situation. "When!" He backs up to size up the upsized size shifter. He's been the small spoon before, but this is... She's nearly as big as an actual horse. He's six-foot-something at the moment and she could easily lean forward and lick his forehead. "Holy heck, have you always been able to do that?!" He asks with a tinge of impressed-ness in his voice, though he's reading the situation just fine as he removes his previously mentioned clothes.

Firecracker plops right onto the ground no problem as she slides off Richard's shoulder, continuing to grow as he gets his wits about him enough to finally say "when" and cause one of her ears to flick as she recognizes the command. She pops her hoof out of her mouth and looks down at him from her new, much larger and higher position. Even though she's still sitting on her haunches, she's a good foot or two taller than he is and standing up only makes the difference even greater! "Do what? Get bigger? Yeah, why wouldn't I be able to do that? Don't be silly, Silly! Hehehe~!" she gigglesnorts that bubbly laugh of hers.

Richard sputters for a second, then says, "But have you been CHOOSING to be small and adorable and-" He's cut off by that laugh and sparkling smile. That's all the answer he needs. "Nevermind," he says, throwing his hands up into a shrug. "Let me at that clit and we'll work some of that sugar out of your system," he alliterates as he walks behind the en-hugened horselike mutant.

Firecracker doesn't have much to say about that offer, instead she just stands up on all fours and lets Richard walk around behind her. She moves her huge poof of a pink tail off to the side and reveals her big, puffy pink pony pussy and the plump, no longer itty bitty clitty tucked away between the lips. "How's that gunna get any sugar outta me?" she asks with a tilt of her head. "I'm sure it's real sweet though, so that probably counts!" she giggles again, looking over her shoulder as he gets behind her. "Oh and were ya gunna play with all these toys around here? Cause I like having super fun sexy fun times and I bet you do too cause super fun is even better than regular fun!"

Richard stops mid-step and remembers that, oh right, he's in a sex dungeon. "...That probably should have occurred to me." The shackles look like they'd be the only thing that could clamp around Firecracker's oversized even for her size hooves, and that might be a load bearing wall, so... yeah. She's free. He'll have to keep her put by *other means.* Moving aside and browsing briefly through his options, he quickly spots two of the largest 'massagers' he's ever seen... and wouldn't you know it, there's an industrial sized barrel of lube right there. "Okay, I've got a plan," he announces, dipping one of the leg-sized plastic cylinders in the lube. Pulling it out and slinging it under his arm, he shuffles back over to the behind of this big equine with the second, dry 'massager dragging behind him. He drops that one and levels the wet fake willy right at the top of Firecracker's inverted exclamation point.

Firecracker looks over to see Richard leaving her behind and lets her tail rest for a bit as he goes to find some rather large vibrators, dunks one into a vat of lube, and then brings them both back behind her. Up her tail goes again, this time her clit pushes out of its hood to make it apparent how much it's looking forward to getting acquainted with its new friend. the plump pleasure button makes for a good resting spot as the wet willy lays atop it, pressing teasingly at the sensitive bits beyond its tip. "Oh, this is a good plan, I like it so far! Which means I'll probably like the rest of it too!"

Richard's grip slipped and he rests the tip of the tool with which he shares his name against the jawbreaker-gumball sized goodie at the bottom of Firecracker's fun bits. "Yep, super fun," he grunts, grabbing the super slick fake dick and pushing it against her ponut. Like a slow-motion tank loader, he heaves and gently pushes the huge human-esque how-do-you-do home.

Firecracker's tail lifts up even higher as that slick dick pushes against her ponut and slides right on in thanks to all that lube. The big pony gasps out loudly and her wings spread and shudder as she raises up to her tippy hooves at the somewhat uncomfortable and unexpected stretching. Deeper and deeper in it slides, spreading her insides as she relaxes her bum and lets it in.

And finally, it bottoms out in her bottom, but only barely. The bigger black base of the battery operated big boy is adjacent to her plump pony anus. Richard reaches up and flicks a switch to set the artificial stud to stimulate with a low and slow buzz. "Super fun," he repeats, dusting the dildo-lube off of his hands, "which is like normal fun, but in a cape. Or in a sex dungeon." As he watches the massive mare squirm, his confidence returns. Situation: under control. That was kinda close. He also returns with the second dildo and prepares to put it in her pussy. "Hope you're a wet one, 'cuz that's how I'm planning to get all that sugar out of you."

Firecracker shifts and adjusts as that big black dick slides into her butt deeper and deeper until it can't go any farther! The fat base rams against her rump as it gets planted fully inside her, squishing into her plump ponut before a switch is flicked and the whole thing sets to buzzing around her insides. "Ohhh~!" the big pony moans, lifting up a hindleg to twitch a bit in the air as her intestines are stirred about. Richard would be able to see rather plainly how much of a wet one she is as her clit throbs, letting her juices start to drip down her inner thighs.

Richard was expecting not to need lube for the second part of his plan, and is pleasantly unsurprised to find that wide-lipped, pulsing pony pussy is positively plastered with a plethora of pussyjuice. He doesn't slide the darn-huge dildo into her downstairs so much as he feeds it to her femininity, strong equine sexual muscles pulling the penis-analogue into her until it bottoms out as well. He flicks the switch with a flourish and admires his handiwork. "Yep, you were right. Seems like you like this plan, you big..." Hm. What's a good thing to say when dirty-talking a horse? Her ass is gigantic, but so is the rest of her... though that thing draping over him as he works her pussy and pony-pucker seems like a more appropriate target. Yeah, that'll work. "...tail lifter."

Indeed Firecracker's strong pussy muscles grasp onto that dildo as it is fed into her second mouth, as it were. Each rhythmic contraction has her swallowing down more of the girthy rod as it stretches out her cunt just as much as her ass already was, pushing against the vibrating twin above through her inner walls. Her twitching leg finds its way to the floor to stabilize the rest of her body as her upper half lowers down, keeping her rump up. She gives little bucks backwards with each swallow her vaginal walls make, drawing the thing in deeper until it bumps right up against her inner ring at the same time it reaches its base. A short wince and gasp along with a powerful clenching around both cocks is immediately preceded by a longer moaning as the second dick starts vibrating her more sensitive walls. At the mention of her being a dirty tail lifter, the tail reacts by lifting and twitching even more! Or maybe that's just because of the vibrating cock stuffed into her ass.

Richard backs up and watches with satisfaction as the supersized sugar succubus slumps onto her front. Each cheek of her ass wibbles and wobbles with the vibrations of the toys in her vagina andanus above.

All right, shit, he's not getting anything from this except a sexy sight. A damn sexy one, but still. How can he participate? That clit looks nice and juicy, but he'd be left hanging while this hyper hors- Hyper horse! Match that up with something that's got sweet semen and then there's a guaranteed good time for all. Damn it feels good to be a shifter. Leaning around the monumental mounds of mare-butt, Richard asks, "Hey, in case you can still talk... what's your opinion on dicks with knots?"

Firecracker keeps her vibrating backside nice and high as she clenches and wriggles around the dildo double penetration. She breathes out panting breaths through her mouth as she rests her chin in her forehooves, making light bucks into the two things stuck inside her. More of her marejuices leak out around the dick in her pussy to wet her thighs and teats as she drips to the floor, giving quite a sexy sight indeed. Her ear flicks as she's brought out of the lusty haze she was put in and she looks back to the man with a plan. "Oh, I know that one! It's real nice to get 'em pushed up in you and stuck in there with a nice big stretching that stays there for real loooong and haard and ooohhh~!" she moans out loud as a particularly strong clenching wraps 'round the two cocks filling her.

Knotted it is, then! "All right! One thing, though: Even if you had an open hole back here, I'd need to be *pretty* limber to lick your clit, so..." Something is snaking its way under Firecracker's front from behind. It's warm, and slick, and feels like it's pulsing to a rapid rhythm. As it continues to creep underneath her, its shape slowly shunts her back onto her front hooves... or at least leaves them dangling limply around it while still in contact with the floor. Depends how much presence of mind she's got at the moment. Having pushed the pegapony up into a standing position, she can now feel all of it beneath her. It's big and bulbous near her belly, but tapers to a tip. A tip that's right under her chin and smells like soda. "...Getting it stuck in you isn't in the cards right now," Richard calls from atop his ridiculously large root beer scented cock and balls. He's grown a pair of dog ears and a wildly wagging tail to go with his canine cock. "But I *did* pick something with a flavor you'll like!"

Firecracker lifts herself up with her forehooves to make room for the slick sausage as it grows under her, sort of like a dick of her own as the massive thing creeps from between her hindlegs all the way to her face. The sweet smell has the pony salivating in no time, or maybe she was already drooling from the dual vibrators inside her, hard to say. Either way, she rests her weight onto the big boner, giving it a combined teatjob, thighjob, hoofjob, and blowjob as she grinds her hips into it, squeezes her legs around the knot, rubs around the tip with her forehooves, and laps at the top of the tip, all at the same time.

Richard sits down on his substantial, nearly floor-brushing balls and moans at the mare's full-body ministrations. He slumps forward into something wet and sticky, which reminds him of why he had the idea for this harebrained hyper hedonism. Maybe not so harebrained. The way her hooves are so deceptively soft around the end of his color-coded candy-striped shaft, and how that broad tongue and cute snoot of hers lap lovingly at the rounded taper of his tip... he used to think Joy was the more sexual one of the pega-pair. Turns out that Fire's a cutie in the streets and a freak in the metaphorical sheets. "Ooh... just like that..." is all he manages to get out before latching onto that convulsing ponycunt clit. Meanwhile his arms creep up over her thighs and inwards towards the vibrators' controls.

Firecracker squishes the tapered tip between her own squishy hooves, giving it a nice couple of squeezes before rubbing it around in circles as she continues dragging her broad tongue over it, making sure to lick at the little opening there any time some sweetness leaks out. And speaking of leaking sweetness, the pegasus' own clit tastes like cotton candy while the juices flowing over it tastes like creamy sweet cream soda, even if it is just as sticky as marejuice normally is. She lets out a squeal of pleasure as her clit is latched upon, wings giving a flap with each tug on it as she hugs the cock under her and the two inside her even more tightly.

Richard tastes sugar and vanilla. Gosh dang, she practically sweats the stuff. That must have been a larger dose than he thought. At least, that's what he'd be thinking if he could still form thoughts beyond 'this feels and tastes heckin' good' and 'doing this will make her feel good.' His moans mimic the nearby 'massagers' as he mouths the mega mare-clit, and his mitts mash against that mighty ass as they migrate their targets. Feeling around blindly, he finds the dials for the vibrating dildoes and raises their setting from one to two. Those heavenly hooves and hungry mouth deserve a reward, after all.

Firecracker's cock rocking only picks up as her clit is vibrated along with her insides. She humps faster and faster, plump pleasure button throbbing in his mouth as she picks up the pace, and the increased intensity is enough to get the mare's whole body rhythmically squeezing and rocking as a wave of marecum gushes out of her. "Ahhhnn~" she squeals out as she cums, hugging the dildos tightly as she clenches again and again, hugging the cock beneath her with all four of her legs and pressing her cheek into it.

Richard is covered from head to chest in sweet marecum, but he himself is only leaking pre. His sworn and solemn duty is to drain all excess sugar from Firecracker, or get laid trying! The vibrations and friction of the fuckhuge filly's rockin' and moanin' and slidin' and squealin' are starting to do the job, though. Not only does she sound positively precious, her pony-moany noises pass through her body and into his rod. That and her chubby cheek rubbing his re- no wait, it's color coded for root beer. Brown rocket doesn't alliterate. Anyway, he swallows what he can of her high-fructose fun-juices and turns the vibrators up and down with the ebb and flow of her first orgasm. That's right. First. He's going for a multi-orgasming mega-mare! She'll be too fucked senseless by the end of this to be a hazard, and the city of Fairhaven will be saved!

Yeah, nah. His thoughts aren't nearly as heroic as that. He's eating pussy and getting a body-job for his dick that's bigger than he is. He clocked out loooong before his pony partner's orgasm hit.

Firecracker's moaning and squeezing only picks up as the vibrators dance around inside inside her, hitting her highest highs to make them even higher before letting her drop nice and low just to toss her up again. If it's a multi-orgasmic mare he wants, that's just what he's going to get! After several cycles of spasming, her squeals get even higher pitched, warbling along with her vibrating body as another large, fresh wave of marecum splashes onto the man behind the wheel, or more accurately, with his hand on the buzzer.

Richard swallows and sputters, struggling to keep up with the stream of slick stuff running all over his face! Still, he suckles the sensitive parts of her slit, giving the clit a break to lovingly lather her labia... which, holy heck, is stretched around a dildo that has the same girth as his head. The one with a brain inside it (allegedly). His tongue dances a full circuit around her feminine mound before latching back on to the love buzzer at the bottom. Her moans are music to his ears, and he feels her voice just as much as he hears it. Her fun has been doubled, but he's nearing his own huzzah if the increasing pulses of sasparilla flavored precum and the fast and heavy heartbeat in his shaft are anything to go by.

Firecracker is too focused on the multiple, repeated waves of orgasmic pleasure brought on by the oscillating vibrations to pay any attention to the throbbing cock under her. He'll just have to make do with the repeated humpings into it as she cums, pressing her soft teats into his knot as she hugs it, and the rest of his cock, with her very large and very warm body. At least she's still rubbing her cheek into his tip as she holds him in a tight hug!

Soon enough, the insensate mare's squeezings and rockings and nuzzlings are proving to be too much for Richard. His moans magnify in volume and pitch along with the mare's, and he loses his coordination, leaving both vibrators on a high setting. His hands instead squeeze what they can of the massive, pyrotechnic-decorated ponka-donkadonk. He adds his own rocking to the equation to the extent that he can as he feels up that fantastic flank.

Firecracker's tongue lolls out to rest against the tasty root beer dick, giving little licks as she hugs and humps away. Now with the two huge vibrators going at maximum strength, she doesn't have much of a choice but to hump hard and fast, giving the knot below her a wet, slippery teatjob as she is fucked by the dual vibrations digging into her ass and pussy.

Richard's dam finally breaks after all of that squeezing and the teats tender touch, sending liter after liter of love-liquids out past the lolling tongue of his large dungeon-buddy. His moans peak with each pulse of sweet-flavored paste, which copiously coats a corner of the room. Thank goodness they had the foresight to install drains in here.

Even as she keeps cumming, Firecracker knows an exploding dick when she sees it! Or feels it! Or smells it going off right next to her snout! She adds to the orgasmic bliss by jerking him with her hooves, coating her frogs in root beer cum as she rubs and squishes. She even wraps her lips around the tip after a few blasts in order to coat the inside of her mouth with the sweet stuff as she drinks it down, swallowing load after load of jizz as she suckles on his tip.

Richard spasms and spurts into the pretty pink-asus's mouth and squirms under her stroking. He grabs on tight to her gigantic glutes as his girth gushes, going ham with his attempts to thrust under her body and into her face. The colossal cum-guzzling cutie, the room, and even his own wagging dog-tail fade to a pleasant, numb white from his perspective...

From Firecracker's perspective, He just passed out at the end of his orgasm. He's starting to soften beneath her, and those vibes are still going unchecked at full force.

Firecracker takes note of the man behind her suddenly passing out, taking away a few of the pleasant sensations that were running through her. Luckily for him, the pink megamare can get a lot done when she wants, and recovers pretty dang quickly, even from a triple or quadruple-gasm! She gets up off the equally megacock beneath her, swallowing down the cum in her mouth and licking it all off her face with her tongue as she flicks and shakes her forehooves in the direction of the drain to get them all nice and clean. Then she scoops up the passed out kemo candy doggo onto her back and trots back up the stairs, after making sure he stopped leaking anyway. Each step feels pretty nice with those dildos still going strong though! She takes Richard and brings him over to the bar where she found him in the first place, plopping him down into the very same seat and resting him onto the counter top. She uses her forehooves to frame the scene, squinting with one eye and tongue hanging out in concentration. She nods, satisfied with the arrangement, and with a final pat on his back, off the megapega goes, never to be seen again! Until some time tomorrow probably.

...And Jade just passively watches all of that happen. She shrugs her slimy shoulders at the departing plus-sized pega with playthings still placed in her posterior. Then she picks up a glass to polish and cleans it until it shines. Just another day in Fairhaven with not much - okay, maybe a FEW things going on.

Serene Elf

2020-01-17T13:51:50Z

Slippery Richard: Updated to reflect new clit-length high scores. Why am I doing this with my time? Good question.

{{Monster
|head=[[Disarming Smile]], [[Long Ears]]
|torso=[[Vitality]]
|arms=[[Sharpshooter]]
|legs=[[Feline Agility]]
|tail=[[Erotic Dance]]
|skin=
|groin=[[Deep Healing]]
|location1=Woodfield Industrial Area
|level1=31-38
}}

A fairly typical wood-elf type of elf. Calm. Has relatively pure intentions. Good at archery. Presumably likes nature and taking long walks in the forest. Has the second longest clitoris of any feral in the game.

What, you don't usually associate elves with clit-dicks? Maybe it's just me. As of this publication, this mutation is second only to the [[Mutant Hyena]] and [[Hot Thorny Tendrils]] in terms of lady parts that could make a man jealous. Also has loads of description altering lstats for clothes, body type, whether that huge clit looks like a dong, etc. See <code style="background:silver">help lstat</code> in-game for info on how to set them.

==Gender==
Herm

==Habitat==
[[Woodfield]] City - Industrial Area

Mutant Hyena

2020-01-17T13:49:14Z

Slippery Richard: Hot Thorny Tendrils has dethroned this champ. Now has the second longest in game.

{{Monster
|head=[[Bleeding Bite]]
|torso=[[Milk Squirt]], [[Muscle Mass]]
|arms=[[Gouging Claws]]
|legs=
|tail=[[Pack Loyalty]]
|skin=[[Furry Hide]]
|groin=[[Overpenetrate]]
|location1=Fairhaven Chemical
|level1=41-43
}}

A chemical-doused hyena that glows in the dark and has two dicks. Three, if you count its clitoris. Has the second longest clit in the game, followed closely by [[Serene Elf]] and surpassed only by [[Hot Thorny Tendrils]].

==Gender==
Herm

[[Category:Monsters]]

A Server for Sly - RPLOG

2020-01-12T14:10:25Z

Slippery Richard: Corrected another couple of typos in my posts. 075 is NORTH east, not southeast on a compass. Corrected to 135. Pile of debris from boulder would WRECK the undercarriage of the truck, not just "would the undercarriage."

=Participants=
* [[Fenris]]
* [[Flynn]]
* [[Magnus]]
* [[Nena]]
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]]
=Date=
5/1/2020
=Log=
<div></div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The posting was vague. A few, select people recieved a comms alert that there was an opportunity to stick it to Zephyr, do a service for Tanuki, and maybe get a little extra on the side. Other than that, only a GPS location and a time were given.

At that particular place and time, a raccoon dressed like Sly Cooper from the old video game is lounging on a rock off to the side of the highway, right at the edge of the bubble, leading out into the wasteland. He is tossing a question mark shaped cane in the air and catching it while he waits for a bite.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"Smells like trouble again." Magnus huffs under his breath as he nears the meeting point, his head kept low and his eyes on a swivel, the fox having intercepted the message through his underworld contacts, run some investigating and struck a few deals to keep his pelt clean once all was said and done. Yes, he was in the police force now, but in his line of work it was good to stay informed. The fox arrives out of uniform, a confident look on his face, his holdout weapons hidden, his armor mostly concealed by the black jacket and loose slacks he wore over it. Once he arrives at the meeting point, he casts a glance up and shoots the raccoon a faint smile.

"Funny, I didn't know we were headed to a cosplay convention. Whenever Tanuki's involved I always suspect a certain chubby friend of mine has a finger in it. So what is it?" the fox asks, his piercing gaze peering right through the suave ne-er do well. "What's the heist all about? And how can you be sure you won't have Zephyrian Spec Ops sacking your mercenaries to take their stolen goods back? How do you know there won't be one among them, waiting for the perfect moment to double-cross you? This all feels very sloppy to me..."</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">The clatter of tracks announces the next arrival, who seems to be under the impression that stealth is optional for this mission. The mutant in question could be described as one of those treaded machines from the future scenes in the Terminator movies, but thoroughly tacticool'd. Machine-guns mounted on its arms and a canon slung over its shoulder interrupt its armored silhouette: A metal-plated humanoid torso mounted on what seems to be a 1 to 1 scale replica of a tank hull. It grinds to a halt several meters away from the first two to arrive.

"Destination reached. Romeo 1-1 awaiting orders. The superior on-site will identify themself prior to any acceptance of commands," it monotones. Its comms identification is blank, but anyone who cares to highlight the text where the name should be would find that it's named 'Richard,' and has simply changed the text of their name to a transparent font.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">"Zephyr buys its loyalties...and bought loyalty is cheap, no matter how much you pay. Means that you just gotta outpay them to ensure loyalty...can you do that, ringtail?" It sounds suddenly, a dark feline peeking up over the rock, leaning in over the raccoon's head. His scarf was up, and he was dressed for stealth...though more likely for night. He even catches the cane witout missing a beat, looking it over for a moment. "Heck, could be ringtail here is Zephyr himself and fishing for trouble makers." Flynn chuckles.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Though not Zephyr aligned, Nena's belligerent days were largely behind her. Yet, the tigress has come anyway, hood tugged up, hands in her pockets, and cigarette between her lips. "Yo." She looks between the assembly and sizes up the tankman. "That's pretty cool. I prefer mecha style, but pretty cool." She pauses to reach out and give Magnus a pat on the head.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The raccon smirks at the newly arrived operatives, then frowns when his stick does not land back in his hand. "Clever," he says, grinning at Flynn, "We can definitely use that." He turns back to the others and gives a placaring wave to Magnus. "Costumes give people something to look at," he says, "A good way to stay incognito. You can call me Mister Cooper."

He waves down toward the road. "In a little under an hour, an unmarked convoy full of stolen goodies will be coming down that road," he explains, "All acquired by Zephyr Co. through its usual means of bullying, extortion, theft and occasionally murder. Some salvage, some scientific equipment, some samples, lots of things. I am interested in exactly one of them. My client, the Great Leaf, Lord Tanuki his very self, wants the contents of a box marked MNS-12. You are welcome to anything else your sticky little fingers can carry away."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"And here I thought the idea of thievery is to be as inconspicuous as possible while doing it. Clearly the mafiosos of Fairhaven have a lot to learn." Magnus rolls his eyes and tucks his hands into his pockets, pulling out what appeared to be a pair of heavily reinforced binoculars. He surveys the area and starts thinking. "You paint Zephyr as some sort of vile scoundrels, raccoon. What are you then? Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich and giving to the needy?" he then lowers the specs and gives Cooper a sideways glance. "The needy being your patron. One has to wonder if ransacking a supply caravan is what Tanuki would want of his followers. But hell, what do I know?" He then mutters something incomprehensible under his breath. "M.N.S. 12 huh. That wouldn't stand for Mini Nanite Server, would it?" he squints a little.

As the others arrive, he'd take Nena's hand and pull her in against himself, giving the tigress a quick squeeze and boop on the nose with his own. "Heya gorgeous." He winks, and addresses the feline that'd crept out of their hidey hole. "And me without my handcuffs..." Or was he? "Here." he offers the binoculars to the feline. "I'm thinking find a shady spot to set up an ambush, maybe lay down a trap on the beaten path, find a bottleneck to choke and wall them in. If they're carrying what I think they're carrying, odds are they'll have it heavily guarded. We'll want to hit them before they realize what's going on. Use the chaos to take control, I'm not too big on murder either, so let's try to avoid that." He would bob his head towards Richard, wondering if he was to be their main artillery for the day. Damn, that's a hell of a body.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glances at the cat and tigress as they arrive. Fixing its optics on the latter, it states. "Approval registered. Recommendations will be noted in after-action report log." Its sight lingers on the cigarette in her mouth. "Your tobacco product will compromise scent discipline. Suggest extinguishing to reduce risk of detection." Its unblinking attention returns to the initial pair of people it encountered. Specifically, on the raccoon. "Superior registered. Targets registered. Objective registered. Request rules of engagement and orders." As Magnus monologues on what may be in the manifest of MNS-12, it states, "...conjecture registered."

Inside that metal head of his, Richard wonders if he's going to get himself in the shit for this. He was expecting to PROTECT a convoy. Then again, if Zephyr's doing some shady shit, they need to be held accountable. Not like there's any real oversight in this day and age. Start shit, get hit. Time will tell who's getting hit. Hopefully not him.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn arches a brow "Hmpf, I usually make it a rule to not work for religious fanatics...but the share sounds good." He looks the cane over, spinning it a few times in his hand. His ears perks as Magnus tries to decipher the acronym. "Convoy, huh? We're a bit close to their goal to do something fancy...poking holes in their gas tank or the like and then waiting is a no go." The feline glances towards Richard. "Though...a nice distraction may just work..." He muses. "Get everyone out looking or fighting...sneak up on the truck, hijack it and drive off." He gestures as he speaks. "If the truck is old military, it might not even need a key..."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"Don't go arresting me now, it'd look bad for my reputation," Nena says with a wink, giving the fox a brief hug around the shoulders. "I've got something for you later, by the way. Didn't bring it with me though, of course." She takes the offered binoculars and takes a brief peek, before Richard's words catch her ears. "Ehhh? Yeah, I guess." With a sigh, she plucks the thing from her lips, extinguishes it, and tucks it away in a pocket for later. "Anyway, yeah, I share his thoughts on it," she agrees with the fox. "Let's not go killing anyone. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not much of a thinker though, more of a muscle. I'll follow a plan and apply my strengths as needed."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">"I have not said anything that was not true," Cooper says, "And I never claimed to be anything but a contractor. I'm not even really much of a thief. I did say this was a costume." The masked raccoon lounges on his rock.

"If it is any balm to your soul, officer, the object in question is already stolen, and we are far outside of any kind of legal jurisdiction here in the wasteland. You have a couple of options." He points down the road a ways to where the very obvious line of the bubble is visible. "You can try to engage before they hit the bubble and most of their equipment and abilities are limited, or wait until they get inside the bubble where an accidental casualty is nearly impossible. Either way, no deaths. Nobody wants that."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec didn't like this one bit. Not one itty bitty bit at all. He squints intensely at their 'contractor, then sighs quietly and retrieves his binoculars. "Let's get this over with and re-steal what Zephyr apparently stole." By the tone in his voice he was not buying this, yet he was playing along it seems. But why? "Forget stealing the rest of the shipment though, you bunch of thugs are gonna have to settle getting your payment from me. I'll cap off the value of that caravan's knick knacks in creds and add a fifth on top. Keep your hands clean that way, let me deal with the "already stolen" goods. Take anything that isn't yours and you're coming down to the precinct with me." He lays down the conditions. His finger then points towards the raccoon. "As for the nanite server, you can have that. Just make sure you disappear off the face of the damn planet with it, capiche?"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 interjects, "Unit is not structurally viable outside of nanite field. suggest engagement within nanite field." It also states, "Unit is of militaristic appearance. This may grant credence to establishment of checkpoint facility." It coldly observes the spat between Magnus and 'Mr. Cooper,' only stating after the fact, "Items other than objective and identified sub-objectives are irrelevant. Requesting orders and rules of engagement. Requesting destination for object Mike November Sierra one two upon retrieval."

Okay, so he's *probably* not going to end up with blood on his hands if things go well. If. Side note: Magnus throws really cool parties for a cop.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn glances between Nena, Cooper and Magnus "Hand-cuffs? Officer?" The feline blinks a little, then looks at Magnus. Even with his mouth covered, one could almost feel the smug grin under it. "You went cop? Ha!" He seems to find that endlessly amusing. "Don't lie to yourself, you're not cop material, kid. You're scoundrel through and through. And I mean that as a compliment." The feline tosses the cane back to Cooper. "No deaths suits me fine. It's unproffesional otherwise." Stretching, he shrugs at the fennec's suggestion of not taking anything else. "Spoilsport...but if you keep your end of the bairgain, alright. Saves me using a fence as a middleman." He leans against the rock, folding his arms. "As for what you guys prefer in regards to in or out of bubble...that's your decision, I work just as well, in or out. Though... if tin man over there works best in bubble...then we go for that. I still say we go for a distraction and nab what we're after when their heads are turned. And I still say we nab the entire truck...the thing we're looking for might be all the way in the back of it...and we won't have time to search. We can always leave it for them to find the rest afterwards."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I'm not much of a thief, so no arguments here. I just came because it sounded interesting." Nena thumbs her glasses, then lifts her arms above her head and stretches out. "And hey, Magnus has a good heart, you know? Once a thug, not always a thug. I also work in or out of the bubble just fine, so inside works with me. It means it'll be safer for all of us, I imagine. Though if we're only going to be taking the one thing, then, perhaps we can just grab it and go. Sneakily or otherwise."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">"Really, officer," the raccoon says, raising his hands in surrender, and coincidentally catching his cane, "No need to be that way! I am certainly capable of paying for services rendered. Nothing in that convoy is rightfully Zephyr property, but I am not here to start a fight. And I assure you, that once I get what I am here for, you will never see me again."

The raccoon indicate the stone his is sitting on. "Just get the box back here to me," he says, "I will take it from here." He waves his stick toward the road. "I only suggest you get a move on," he says, "That courier will be here shortly and I would really rather sieze this opportunity than try to get it from Zephyr headquarters later."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec swings his hand and presses his finger into Flynn's nose. "Least I use my thieving past to help people now. All you're interested in is helping yourself, kitten." Seems he didn't appreciate being called a kid. He casts a glance over his team and nods. "Then let's play to all our strengths. Head into the signal covered areas, find a good ambush point. I don't care who those goods belong to, all I know is it isn't us. I'd rather the expenses come out of my pocket in case we're robbing some poor schlops blind. It not being Zephyr, even if it IS true, isn't good enough."

The fennec casts a glance towards Cooper and huffs. "Keep your money, you wanna do some good with it, take a hint from your patron and give back to those that need it. I don't like the idea of giving the supernaturals access to the only upper hand we have, our technology, but I'm just one guy. Even if I bust this effort six more will probably pop up in the coming months and defeat the trouble I'll go through." He swings his hand and shakes his head. "I swear Fenris, if that's you..." The fennec turns back around and heads towards the nanite server covered area of the local terrain, surveying the grounds for what could be a good ambush point.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 reports, "Call sign 'tin man' rejected. Romeo 1-1 will provide rules of engagement and orders if none are given. Suggestion based upon current known factors: convoy's expected vector of approach is one-three-five, crossing bridge from southeast. The bridge is a natural choke point. Deploying at either end of the bridge after convoy is on bridge will hinder target movement." It falls silent, then says, "Suggestion complete. Awaiting orders and rules of engagement."

It's only a *suggestion.* Hopefully that will look better than 'masterminded an ambush' if he gets caught.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn chuckles a little. "You don't know what I do with my free time. I might be a true Robin Hood for all you know." He jokes but follows Magnus, looking for a good ambush spot, "So...Juliet nil-nil and stripey are distraction, I sneak up and take what we're looking for, which team are you on, kid?" He glances to Magnus. "The bridge might work...I just need a spot where I can hide and sneak in on the truck from."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"Distraction?" Nena slips a hand under her hood to rub at an ear. "Hm, what kind of distraction should I be providing? I assume you don't want me to just start swinging when we see them. I'm not sure I know the language well enough to pull off some kind of military vibe. But I will try to do... Something. Maybe be really persistent in trying to converse, unless there's an idea."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">There is a bridge, that Robo-Richard has pointed out, but there is also a place nearer the edge of the bubble where the road dips down between two high, rocky walls. Both will leave the incoming truck blocked in a little, but the ravine has the added bonus of limited visibility. It is up to the group how they proceed. And if they plan to disguise themselves or lay traps.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">Fenris spends 2 common mechanical salvage to: Caltrops</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec examines their given options, then reaches into his backpack and rummages around in it, seemingly having put a mental block on Flynn and his kid teasing. Magnus pulls out what appears to be some metal bits. Screws and nails and generally just tiny sharp bits of metal, perhaps part of a maintainance kit he had. "Well if they're on foot, these will be a sudden surprise, and if they're in a vehicle, these might pop a tire or two... If they are driving something, and they get a blown out tire, some passers-by could stand in masqerading as good samaritans looking to assist. Even if they don't buy it, we'll have made them put on the breaks. Unless they're driving a tank or something. Then again..." he looks towards Richard and notes. "We have a tank. Hell, you're a roadblock all on your own there metal man. What's stopping you from just running them off the road?" he offers, before crossing his arms and getting to the point. "We doing the bridge of the outcropping. I'd rather we do the bridge. Don't want anyone falling off the edge. That means one of us too."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec examines their given options, then reaches into his backpack and rummages around in it, seemingly having put a mental block on Flynn and his kid teasing. Magnus pulls out what appears to be some metal bits. Screws and nails and generally just tiny sharp bits of metal, perhaps part of a maintainance kit he had. "Well if they're on foot, these will be a sudden surprise, and if they're in a vehicle, these might pop a tire or two... If they are driving something, and they get a blown out tire, some passers-by could stand in masqerading as good samaritans looking to assist. Even if they don't buy it, we'll have made them put on the breaks. Unless they're driving a tank or something. Then again..." he looks towards Richard and notes. "We have a tank. Hell, you're a roadblock all on your own there metal man. What's stopping you from just running them off the road?" he offers, before crossing his arms and getting to the point. "We doing the bridge of the canyon? I'd rather we do the canyon. Don't want anyone falling off the edge. That means one of us too." ((Edited an oopsie.))</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glares impassively at Flynn. "Call sign 'Juliet nil-nil' is invalid." It also observes the valley the truck should end up driving through. "Demolitions of rock face may cause similar effect to spike strip. No orders received. Strategy to follow: force truck to halt within valley. This unit will stand by to prevent escape at near end of choke point. Other units are to attempt to stop vehicle by any means necessary. Romeo 1-1 will act as a last resort/base of fire. Weapons tight, do not engage until convoy personnel are confirmed hostile." With all the authority of an automaton, it waits to see whether its proposed plan is accepted. In either case, it starts rolling towards the end of the canyon to find a position that can't be seen from the road, but is still reasonably close in case it needs to throw itself into the path of a speeding vehicle. As it moves, it rotates on its chassis and says to Magnus, "Call sign 'metal man' rejected. Call signs are to be assigned through proper channels. Please desist from nicknaming this unit for clarity of communications."

'Fuck me, we're actually doing this. Maybe I won't even need to show my face? I hope not.' Those thoughts and many others bounce about in Richard's brain-pan. Here we go...</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn seems to like the rocky walls as an ambush spot. "The place over there will work. We'll have the high ground, it'll be out of view, and we can hide." He then smiles at Nena "You figure something out...so long there is no killing, you may make love or war as you wish. Or anything in between. Heck, you can try to old 'roadkill insurance fraud' thing." The feline glances to Magnus's improvised caltrops. "So, I take you're against taking the whole truck? How heavy is this box or server or thingamagig? But...it might indeed work." He rubs his chin a little. "A land slide, huh?" He glances to Richard. "We could go real old style, block the road with some rocks, sneak in while they remove the rocks. Trouble is if they try to drive around it. But...I bet War Machine over the could stop them if that should happen."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"That sounds good to me. I don't feel like falling. And I'm not one for making love with strangers, but I'll come up with something, sure. I prefer thinking on the spot anyway." Nena brushes off her sleeves and exhales. "Well, with that I guess I'm ready. I'll decide what to do and how to help when I see the situation!"</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec looks through his binoculars towards the direction of the incoming caravan. His eyes widen once he spots the vehicle approaching from the distance, lowering his binoc and turning to the team. "They're coming. We've not much time. Lotta dust being kicked up so I'd wager we're dealing with a motor vehicle there. If you're gonna put your plans into action, now's the time." He looks down at the improvised caltrops in his hand and shakes his head. "Nevermind the spikes. We don't have spare tires to use in case we do want to take the truck. Metal- I mean Romeo 1-1, set up a blockade. roll some rocks down, stand in the way, doesn't matter. You're the biggest one among us."

He then turns towards Nena and adds. "Nena, you have a tongue and a lot of strength to you, when they stop to a halt, approach them and try to squeeze them for information. See if we've been hoodwinked, if we have, I trust you'll let us know." He nods, then turns towards Flynn. "You know how to hide. When Nena has their attention, get in there. Try to get into the trunk or the back or wherever the storage compartment of the vehicle is. See what we're dealing with, sniff around and make sure we're not in for a fight. If we are, steal their weapons if you can. I'll join in and help with that once it all comes together. All clear?" Magnus asks, and puts his binoculars away. "We're out of time! Get moving!"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 isn't even going to bother asking Flynn to stop with the name calling any more. Time's wasting. It tries to get a rockfall to happen using its massive metallic mitts, but only manages to get a few stones to fall onto the road that the driver would easily avoid if they're paying attention. "Unit requires assistance with field engineering task. This rockfall is inadequate to stop-" Out of nowhere, a boulder falls down beside it, smashing a pile of debris across the road that would wreck the undercarriage of anything short of a monster truck. It elevates its gaze to see what the heck caused that to happen. "Cancel request for assistance," it says, with a hint of synthetic shame in its voice as it retreats to its out-of-sight ambush post.

Is it possible for a ten meter tall genderless death machine to feel emasculated?</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn nods as the plan finally seems to get going. "Alright, bosskid." He throws a joking salute and slinks off to hide somewhere nearby, where he can see what is going on. Now he'd play the waiting game, it was up to the others to create an opening he could exploit.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I've got you covered," says Nena as she dusts her hands off and rolls her shoulders. "If I am not one for planning or caution, I have to be able to handle my own in other ways, right?" She leans against the boulder to wait. A distraction indeed. It was called for, and she would provide. They caravan would hopefully not be proceeding through this blockade, and the best way to start off amicably was to be seen from a distance, she figured, rather than as a surprise.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The well placed rock fall did not come a moment too soon! The dust does not have time to settle before a moderately sized military transport vehicle turns the bend in the road and descends into the little canyon.

The truck slows and stops about ten feet shy of the fallen rocks. It is an old vehicle, probably salvaged, and definitely not Zephyr issue. The back is covered in canvas, stretched taut over a framework of metal bars. Along with the truck a pair of noisy motorcycles pull up.

"Damn," one of the cyclists swears, removing his helmet to reveal a human male with rugged features, "No getting through this." He turns and shouts at whoever is driving the truck. "Back it up! We'll have to go over land a little ways! We gotta get the cargo to the Z today. They pay way better when the goods are fresh." He finally seems to notice Nena leaning against the boulder on the road and frowns. His hand moving slowly toward a holster on his bike. "What are you doing so far from the city, Kitty cat?" he asks.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec meanwhile is a shadow in the dust, he keeps his posture low and a keen eye on the situation, eyes dancing over the various details in the caravan that they'd halted. This... vehicle. This wasn't one of Zephyr's, yet these people spoke of delivery to them. Random scavvies from the wasteland perhaps? Hired mercs that'd robbed a settlement? The fox knew they had a nanite server with them, so what gives? How did they obtain it? Was there a village now missing its bubble? Was there anything left of that village? His features darken as the thought that these disgusting thugs may have well wiped out a peaceful settlement out there fills him with a seething wrath, but he didn't know the full story yet.

If his suspicions were realized however, he'd have several punks to haul off to the cells. Nevermind their weapons, he'd faced worse before, and he'd do it again. He raises his hand and gestures for Flynn to approach. "Swipe their weapons while they're distracted. They have a spare on their bikes, see if you can do anything about that. They have holdout weapons on their leg holsters too, but those are the smaller problem." he instructs, then gestures towards R-1-1 to stand ready. He gestures with his hand for the giant mech to keep low to the ground so as to not give himself away, and stay still in waiting for the main confrontation.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 sees the fennec's signal and stays put. It waits, silent and motionless. Nothing sounds like it's gone tits up just yet, but as they say, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Better pessimistinc and prepared than optimistic and oblivous.

Richard holds out hope that he won't be a necessary part of this plan.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn saw his opportunity, with the roadblock and Nena drawing all the attention. He moved in, fast too, clearly all too used to sneaking around. Suddenly, the holstered weapons were gone, in the possession of the feline. That was priority one, the next was to check on the cargo. He'd peek into the back of it, see if he could find the crate, or perhaps something else of interest...and perhaps see who was driving as well.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I was hoping to get the road clear before you got here, but it seems like I was a little slow," Nena observes the motion of the man's hands, and lifts her own. "I came here to make sure the path was clear of obstructions, people and otherwise, for your delivery. But, you can see that there's an obstruction. Kind of heavy and big for one person, you know?" She blatantly lies. "The other route has sightings of thugs, this is still the safest way through, if you want to help me clear it."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The man with his helmet off, apparently the leader holds up a hand to his men, and swings off his bike. "I think we can handle some thugs," he says, his hand resting on his holstered pistol, "Who sent you out here to make sure the road was clear?" The man looks around suspiciously.

Flynn has no trouble slipping into the back of the truck. A little bit of twine is all that holds the back canvas flap secure. Inside is a collection of assorted salvage. Some crates, a few small machines and parts, and four large animal cages, still definitely too small for the humanoid canine mutants held inside. Two are larger males, one a magnificent collie with a recently bloodied nose, and the other a hefty bulldog. One cage holds a cramped pair of rottweiler women trying to calm the inhabitants of the last cage, a quartet of children of various canine breeds.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec squints heavily as he sees Flynn slip into the truck. He didn't trust that feline one bit. Casting R-1-1 a gesture to be ready, he murmurs just loud enough that their metallic guardian hears. "If you hear gunfire, intervene." With that, Magnus curls up into a ball and ever-so quietly rolls down towards their blockade, before slipping behind the truck, and catching Flynn in action. The feline was there with all the goodies, so Magnus casts him an evil look, and silently gestures that he was watching him. Seeing how the feline had disarmed them however, he peeks over the edge of the truck, and listens in on what was happening with Nena. Who were these thugs? He needed answers...</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 is a decent distance away and can just barely make out Magnus's command, but that was its plan anyway. Gun ready. MGs ready. All zeroed to battlesight distance on a human-sized target. The convoy guards are taking a suspicious tone with Nena. Let's hope her excuses hold up, or this is going to be a messy ambush.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn frowns, his brow furrowing. He holds a finger up in front of his lips, urging them to be quiet. He glances over the cages, the crates, then out, as if thinking. Finally, he exits the truck again, instead heading out...blinking a little as Magnus suddenly was there. He gestures Magnus closer, then just lifts the tarp out of the way so Magnus could see the cages, pointing to the one with children and giving the fennec a concerned look. The feline then points to Magnus before pointing to the driver of the truck. Next, he points to himself, and then makes a steering wheel motion, giving Magnus an inquisitive look to see if he got it. Only then does he climb out of the truck, and sneaks towards the passenger door of the truck, trying to get a small look.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena takes a gruff tone of her own, hoping to match wavelengths, as it were. "Does it matter? Someone wanted to make sure whatever you're carrying made it to its destination in one piece, and they paid me to make sure it did. That's the extent of my knowledge, and the extent of my care. I came out here, I get the money either way. Do you want to help me move these rocks or not, and take the risk of running around?"</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The biker frowns at Nena, but then nods. "Yeah, fine," he growls. He turns and waves at his men. "Get your lazy asses out here!" he shouts, "The faster we get these rocks moved, the faster we get paid!" He looks back at Nena. "You got a CAT or something? We're not moving these things by hand."

Meanwhile, the other cyclist has removed his helmet and dismounted his bike. The driver and passenger are also getting out. "Think there's a big iron bar in the back, boss. You want it?" the driver calls as he steps out of the old truck.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec blinks a few times and tries to understand what he was being told. The fact there were people here held captive was... concerning to say the least. He gestures for the captives to remain silent, then moves over towards the back of the driver's seat. Tracing over his teeth with his tongue, the fox grazes his teeth with one nail, covering it in some kind of strange, viscous liquid of a sickly purple color. His hand reaches out and strikes the victim in the neck, holding him still as his nail sinks into the flesh, delivering its payload directly into the bloodstream. In just a few moments of struggling, the driver is paralyzed from head to toe, and Magnus' hand removes itself from the person's throat. Drawing his blade, Magnus grazes his front row fangs with it too, coating the surface with the same icky liquid... he was getting ready for the shit show...</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn watched the driver twitch as he is poisoned, then moves in. He climbs in, and pulls roughly the driver into the passenger seat. As soon as he can, he slips into the driver's seat, and puts it into reverse gear. He glances back at the fennec. "Hold on. Might be a bit rough, I haven't driven in a decade." The feline grins, and then gives it a good deal of throttle, and then slips the clutch up, sending it into backwards movement with as much speed as he can. The bikes and riders were probably in his way....they wouldn't be for long.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena is either playing coy, or missing the point. Given her self-professed lack of experience with the language, quite possible the latter. "Yeah? I'm the cat," she answers the two as she moves to one side of the boulder, peeking towards the truck to see how the others were doing. "I'll do the heavy lifting, just help me guide it so it roll-flips straight. She only had to keep them distracted a little longer, she figured, and putting herself near the boulder this way made for quick cover should the need arise.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn waits and watches the passenger move off to move the rocks, while Magnus takes care of the driver. As soon as he can, he slips into the front of the truck and into the driver's seat, and puts it into reverse gear. He whispers back to the caged mutants "Hold on. Might be a bit rough, I haven't driven in a decade." The feline grins, and then gives it a good deal of throttle, and then slips the clutch up, sending it into backwards movement with as much speed as he can. The bikes and riders were probably in his way....they wouldn't be for long.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The males in the back of the truck seem to be heavily sedated and in pretty rough shape, but the females give a fearful look at Magnus and Flynn, but continue to attend to the puppies. And there is the wild thing, they are CHILDREN! Without accelerated aging from nanites.

The driver, a large man with a swarthy, greek look to him falls, paralyzed, to the road, never even seeing the fox that got him.

The leader, and the other two turn as the truck roars to life and roars into gear, jerking hard into reverse and chugging back up the incline! "Stop them!" he roars, turning and pulling his pistol on Nena!

The thug who was in the passenger's side of the truck starts running toward the truck, yelling and struggling to pull a pistol from his belt, while the other biker runs to his bike, which has been knocked over by Flynn's wild escape. Finding his shotgun missing, he shouts and works to heave his bike back up so he can ride.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"What are you doing?!" Magnus asks as the truck starts to move. He steadies himself by grabbing onto the cages, and readies his revolver in case they had something or someone to fight off. "Where are you- oh... just drive!" Magnus dismisses it and leaves Flynn to do what he needed. If things went sour, he'd un-fuck it... it was his job to do so. Turning his attention to the captives, Magnus asks the obvious questions that'd been gnawing at him. "Who are you people? Why are you in those cages? Who put you there, and why?"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Shouting, squealing tires, and gunfire. That's R 1-1's cue. Enter the humongous humanoid tank, stage right. He skids to a stop side-on to the valley and begins to drink in the fire-hose of details before him. One on the ground. Neutrailized. Three foot-mobiles... One gun for each of them. Truck driver is non-hostile. "CEASE YOUR HOSTILITIES," it commands, leveling a weapon at each of the remaining targets. "YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY."</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn glances back at Magnus. "I'm doing what I do best. Relocating things without asking the percieved owners. Today...it's getting caged people out of a firefight. Not what I expected when I got out of bed, but whatever." The feline keeps the truck going, backing and backing, trying to speed up. "Oh, and if you can do something to get the thugs off our tail, then please, feel free to do so."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Being shot at is usually a cue. The bang one of those things that sets off alarms in the head and sparks fire. With a twitch Nena avoids the shot just barely, and steps forward. In close quarters, the tiger trusted her hands more than any firearm, and with those hands she seeks to prevail. To grapple. To control the arm with the gun, and the body its attached to, to bring him low. That was her aim, anyway.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">One of the female rottweilers just shakes her head and does her best to tend the children. The other looks at Magnus, trying not to be shaken into her friend. "Bad English," she says with a strong hispanic accent, "You speak Spanish?" she asks.

The man trying to right his bike sees both R 1-1 and his companion sprawled out on the ground, not moving and he slowly raises his hands and gets down on the ground. His eager friend chasing after the truck, which admittedly does not move particularly fast in reverse and uphill, finally draws his pistol and takes a wild shot, the bullet pinging off the road.

Nena handily takes down her opponent, catching his arms and executing a masterful Judo throw to slam him against the ground. He gasps and drops his weapon.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"Ah... no." the fennec shakes his head, then flits his ears as the gunshot sounds off. He leans out from the first open space he could find, the back of the truck, and aims his hand towards the one chasing after them. "May as well take you down, I get the feeling I'll be collecting you punks later." Magnus growls under his breath as he slings himself over the upper edge of the back door, and stands dexterously atop the truck. He aims and puts his hands together, firing off two thick streams of webbing towards their pursuer, hitting him in the legs to trip him up, then once more in the chest to further immobilize him. The fox stomps on the truck, hoping to get Flynn to slow down or stop now that they weren't being chased.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Three hostiles down, one compliant. One hostile remaining. R 1-1 elevates its cannon out of the way and trains one MG each on the two targets still standing. "YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS-" Just then, Magnus does some comic book shit and takes the only one still trying to do their job down to the pavement. How long has Mags been able to do that? "Compliance achieved."

All right! Two bullets fired, and none of them by Richard. Wonderful. He keeps one gun each on the man by the bike and the one plastered onto the road.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn looks forward as the fennec stomps, and breathes a small sigh of relief as he sees the thug trip up, and lets the truck slow, getting a bit more distance from the thugs before finally letting it stop. Pulling the handbrake, he lets it idle. He then pokes his head out the side of the truck, he calls out to Magnus. "Good shot...please tell me that didn't come from where I'm thinking." Not waiting for an answer, he climbs into the back of the truck, getting to work on unlocking the cages...whether they needed keys or not.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena looks out at the others. They seemed to have it handled, so, she turns around and takes a seat atop the one she put on the ground. She wasn't carrying any restraints, so she figured she'd take the role, herself, after knocking the gun further away. She eyes the bike up, as well. Not near as tricked out as hers, but... It worked, so...</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The locks are not difficult to break, and the dogs gratefully climb out, the women tending to the men's wounds while the children do their best to get in the way. It seems that none of the concious ones speak english. Perhaps Mister Cooper can deal with them. The truck does contain the crate he asked after, and if he gets that, he may as well get the problems that go with it.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The arrangements are made, and Magnus retrieves the captors into custody. "You dirtbags are going to the precinct to explain what you're doing caging children." He growls as he produces the very cuffs he claimed he hadn't brought, slamming them on the gour perps. All and all, the fox looked satisfied with the turnout.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Somewhere inside Romeo 1-1's skull, Richard realizes he has a golden opportunity. Magnus is arresting these fine fellows, so they're going back to Fairhaven... and back to their employers. Maybe there's a message they can take with them, and start a fire to light up some other shady shit. He thinks back to where he got this form: outside of a NORAD knockoff that's no doubt doing mad science to mutantkind. 'Romeo 1-1 puts a finger to the side of its head where an ear would be and declares digitally, "Theta Base, Romeo 1-1. Target vehicle secure. Returning to base. Local forces were useful, no casualties friend or foe. Returning to Theta Base with cargo, out."

It's a lie. All of it. But sometimes the best way to catch a liar is with lies of your own. He just hopes planting this false flag does what he's hoping it will. Two birds, one stone and all that.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn sits back on the crate, oddly enough not caring much about it in the moment, just watching the children. "I...haven't seen children in years." He pulls down his scarf and runs a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. He just props up his head with an elbow on his knee for a moment, but soon shakes his head and climbs out of the truck, needing a breath of fresh air. "Let's...get the raccoon in here, so we can wrap this up."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Once Magnus starts rounding up the thugs, Nena goes to inspect the bike more up close, rubbing her chin. "... Well I assume they won't need it where they're going. Nobody will mind if I take this, right? In either case, minimal bloodshed, very nice. I am happy that it worked out so well."</div>[[Category:RPLogs]]

A Server for Sly - RPLOG

2020-01-06T14:17:12Z

Slippery Richard: corrected a typo in one of my poses, corrected link to my page which I still need to make.

=Participants=
* [[Fenris]]
* [[Flynn]]
* [[Magnus]]
* [[Nena]]
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]]
=Date=
5/1/2020
=Log=
<div></div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The posting was vague. A few, select people recieved a comms alert that there was an opportunity to stick it to Zephyr, do a service for Tanuki, and maybe get a little extra on the side. Other than that, only a GPS location and a time were given.

At that particular place and time, a raccoon dressed like Sly Cooper from the old video game is lounging on a rock off to the side of the highway, right at the edge of the bubble, leading out into the wasteland. He is tossing a question mark shaped cane in the air and catching it while he waits for a bite.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"Smells like trouble again." Magnus huffs under his breath as he nears the meeting point, his head kept low and his eyes on a swivel, the fox having intercepted the message through his underworld contacts, run some investigating and struck a few deals to keep his pelt clean once all was said and done. Yes, he was in the police force now, but in his line of work it was good to stay informed. The fox arrives out of uniform, a confident look on his face, his holdout weapons hidden, his armor mostly concealed by the black jacket and loose slacks he wore over it. Once he arrives at the meeting point, he casts a glance up and shoots the raccoon a faint smile.

"Funny, I didn't know we were headed to a cosplay convention. Whenever Tanuki's involved I always suspect a certain chubby friend of mine has a finger in it. So what is it?" the fox asks, his piercing gaze peering right through the suave ne-er do well. "What's the heist all about? And how can you be sure you won't have Zephyrian Spec Ops sacking your mercenaries to take their stolen goods back? How do you know there won't be one among them, waiting for the perfect moment to double-cross you? This all feels very sloppy to me..."</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">The clatter of tracks announces the next arrival, who seems to be under the impression that stealth is optional for this mission. The mutant in question could be described as one of those treaded machines from the future scenes in the Terminator movies, but thoroughly tacticool'd. Machine-guns mounted on its arms and a canon slung over its shoulder interrupt its armored silhouette: A metal-plated humanoid torso mounted on what seems to be a 1 to 1 scale replica of a tank hull. It grinds to a halt several meters away from the first two to arrive.

"Destination reached. Romeo 1-1 awaiting orders. The superior on-site will identify themself prior to any acceptance of commands," it monotones. Its comms identification is blank, but anyone who cares to highlight the text where the name should be would find that it's named 'Richard,' and has simply changed the text of their name to a transparent font.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">"Zephyr buys its loyalties...and bought loyalty is cheap, no matter how much you pay. Means that you just gotta outpay them to ensure loyalty...can you do that, ringtail?" It sounds suddenly, a dark feline peeking up over the rock, leaning in over the raccoon's head. His scarf was up, and he was dressed for stealth...though more likely for night. He even catches the cane witout missing a beat, looking it over for a moment. "Heck, could be ringtail here is Zephyr himself and fishing for trouble makers." Flynn chuckles.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Though not Zephyr aligned, Nena's belligerent days were largely behind her. Yet, the tigress has come anyway, hood tugged up, hands in her pockets, and cigarette between her lips. "Yo." She looks between the assembly and sizes up the tankman. "That's pretty cool. I prefer mecha style, but pretty cool." She pauses to reach out and give Magnus a pat on the head.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The raccon smirks at the newly arrived operatives, then frowns when his stick does not land back in his hand. "Clever," he says, grinning at Flynn, "We can definitely use that." He turns back to the others and gives a placaring wave to Magnus. "Costumes give people something to look at," he says, "A good way to stay incognito. You can call me Mister Cooper."

He waves down toward the road. "In a little under an hour, an unmarked convoy full of stolen goodies will be coming down that road," he explains, "All acquired by Zephyr Co. through its usual means of bullying, extortion, theft and occasionally murder. Some salvage, some scientific equipment, some samples, lots of things. I am interested in exactly one of them. My client, the Great Leaf, Lord Tanuki his very self, wants the contents of a box marked MNS-12. You are welcome to anything else your sticky little fingers can carry away."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"And here I thought the idea of thievery is to be as inconspicuous as possible while doing it. Clearly the mafiosos of Fairhaven have a lot to learn." Magnus rolls his eyes and tucks his hands into his pockets, pulling out what appeared to be a pair of heavily reinforced binoculars. He surveys the area and starts thinking. "You paint Zephyr as some sort of vile scoundrels, raccoon. What are you then? Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich and giving to the needy?" he then lowers the specs and gives Cooper a sideways glance. "The needy being your patron. One has to wonder if ransacking a supply caravan is what Tanuki would want of his followers. But hell, what do I know?" He then mutters something incomprehensible under his breath. "M.N.S. 12 huh. That wouldn't stand for Mini Nanite Server, would it?" he squints a little.

As the others arrive, he'd take Nena's hand and pull her in against himself, giving the tigress a quick squeeze and boop on the nose with his own. "Heya gorgeous." He winks, and addresses the feline that'd crept out of their hidey hole. "And me without my handcuffs..." Or was he? "Here." he offers the binoculars to the feline. "I'm thinking find a shady spot to set up an ambush, maybe lay down a trap on the beaten path, find a bottleneck to choke and wall them in. If they're carrying what I think they're carrying, odds are they'll have it heavily guarded. We'll want to hit them before they realize what's going on. Use the chaos to take control, I'm not too big on murder either, so let's try to avoid that." He would bob his head towards Richard, wondering if he was to be their main artillery for the day. Damn, that's a hell of a body.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glances at the cat and tigress as they arrive. Fixing its optics on the latter, it states. "Approval registered. Recommendations will be noted in after-action report log." Its sight lingers on the cigarette in her mouth. "Your tobacco product will compromise scent discipline. Suggest extinguishing to reduce risk of detection." Its unblinking attention returns to the initial pair of people it encountered. Specifically, on the raccoon. "Superior registered. Targets registered. Objective registered. Request rules of engagement and orders." As Magnus monologues on what may be in the manifest of MNS-12, it states, "...conjecture registered."

Inside that metal head of his, Richard wonders if he's going to get himself in the shit for this. He was expecting to PROTECT a convoy. Then again, if Zephyr's doing some shady shit, they need to be held accountable. Not like there's any real oversight in this day and age. Start shit, get hit. Time will tell who's getting hit. Hopefully not him.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn arches a brow "Hmpf, I usually make it a rule to not work for religious fanatics...but the share sounds good." He looks the cane over, spinning it a few times in his hand. His ears perks as Magnus tries to decipher the acronym. "Convoy, huh? We're a bit close to their goal to do something fancy...poking holes in their gas tank or the like and then waiting is a no go." The feline glances towards Richard. "Though...a nice distraction may just work..." He muses. "Get everyone out looking or fighting...sneak up on the truck, hijack it and drive off." He gestures as he speaks. "If the truck is old military, it might not even need a key..."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"Don't go arresting me now, it'd look bad for my reputation," Nena says with a wink, giving the fox a brief hug around the shoulders. "I've got something for you later, by the way. Didn't bring it with me though, of course." She takes the offered binoculars and takes a brief peek, before Richard's words catch her ears. "Ehhh? Yeah, I guess." With a sigh, she plucks the thing from her lips, extinguishes it, and tucks it away in a pocket for later. "Anyway, yeah, I share his thoughts on it," she agrees with the fox. "Let's not go killing anyone. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not much of a thinker though, more of a muscle. I'll follow a plan and apply my strengths as needed."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">"I have not said anything that was not true," Cooper says, "And I never claimed to be anything but a contractor. I'm not even really much of a thief. I did say this was a costume." The masked raccoon lounges on his rock.

"If it is any balm to your soul, officer, the object in question is already stolen, and we are far outside of any kind of legal jurisdiction here in the wasteland. You have a couple of options." He points down the road a ways to where the very obvious line of the bubble is visible. "You can try to engage before they hit the bubble and most of their equipment and abilities are limited, or wait until they get inside the bubble where an accidental casualty is nearly impossible. Either way, no deaths. Nobody wants that."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec didn't like this one bit. Not one itty bitty bit at all. He squints intensely at their 'contractor, then sighs quietly and retrieves his binoculars. "Let's get this over with and re-steal what Zephyr apparently stole." By the tone in his voice he was not buying this, yet he was playing along it seems. But why? "Forget stealing the rest of the shipment though, you bunch of thugs are gonna have to settle getting your payment from me. I'll cap off the value of that caravan's knick knacks in creds and add a fifth on top. Keep your hands clean that way, let me deal with the "already stolen" goods. Take anything that isn't yours and you're coming down to the precinct with me." He lays down the conditions. His finger then points towards the raccoon. "As for the nanite server, you can have that. Just make sure you disappear off the face of the damn planet with it, capiche?"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 interjects, "Unit is not structurally viable outside of nanite field. suggest engagement within nanite field." It also states, "Unit is of militaristic appearance. This may grant credence to establishment of checkpoint facility." It coldly observes the spat between Magnus and 'Mr. Cooper,' only stating after the fact, "Items other than objective and identified sub-objectives are irrelevant. Requesting orders and rules of engagement. Requesting destination for object Mike November Sierra one two upon retrieval."

Okay, so he's *probably* not going to end up with blood on his hands if things go well. If. Side note: Magnus throws really cool parties for a cop.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn glances between Nena, Cooper and Magnus "Hand-cuffs? Officer?" The feline blinks a little, then looks at Magnus. Even with his mouth covered, one could almost feel the smug grin under it. "You went cop? Ha!" He seems to find that endlessly amusing. "Don't lie to yourself, you're not cop material, kid. You're scoundrel through and through. And I mean that as a compliment." The feline tosses the cane back to Cooper. "No deaths suits me fine. It's unproffesional otherwise." Stretching, he shrugs at the fennec's suggestion of not taking anything else. "Spoilsport...but if you keep your end of the bairgain, alright. Saves me using a fence as a middleman." He leans against the rock, folding his arms. "As for what you guys prefer in regards to in or out of bubble...that's your decision, I work just as well, in or out. Though... if tin man over there works best in bubble...then we go for that. I still say we go for a distraction and nab what we're after when their heads are turned. And I still say we nab the entire truck...the thing we're looking for might be all the way in the back of it...and we won't have time to search. We can always leave it for them to find the rest afterwards."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I'm not much of a thief, so no arguments here. I just came because it sounded interesting." Nena thumbs her glasses, then lifts her arms above her head and stretches out. "And hey, Magnus has a good heart, you know? Once a thug, not always a thug. I also work in or out of the bubble just fine, so inside works with me. It means it'll be safer for all of us, I imagine. Though if we're only going to be taking the one thing, then, perhaps we can just grab it and go. Sneakily or otherwise."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">"Really, officer," the raccoon says, raising his hands in surrender, and coincidentally catching his cane, "No need to be that way! I am certainly capable of paying for services rendered. Nothing in that convoy is rightfully Zephyr property, but I am not here to start a fight. And I assure you, that once I get what I am here for, you will never see me again."

The raccoon indicate the stone his is sitting on. "Just get the box back here to me," he says, "I will take it from here." He waves his stick toward the road. "I only suggest you get a move on," he says, "That courier will be here shortly and I would really rather sieze this opportunity than try to get it from Zephyr headquarters later."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec swings his hand and presses his finger into Flynn's nose. "Least I use my thieving past to help people now. All you're interested in is helping yourself, kitten." Seems he didn't appreciate being called a kid. He casts a glance over his team and nods. "Then let's play to all our strengths. Head into the signal covered areas, find a good ambush point. I don't care who those goods belong to, all I know is it isn't us. I'd rather the expenses come out of my pocket in case we're robbing some poor schlops blind. It not being Zephyr, even if it IS true, isn't good enough."

The fennec casts a glance towards Cooper and huffs. "Keep your money, you wanna do some good with it, take a hint from your patron and give back to those that need it. I don't like the idea of giving the supernaturals access to the only upper hand we have, our technology, but I'm just one guy. Even if I bust this effort six more will probably pop up in the coming months and defeat the trouble I'll go through." He swings his hand and shakes his head. "I swear Fenris, if that's you..." The fennec turns back around and heads towards the nanite server covered area of the local terrain, surveying the grounds for what could be a good ambush point.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 reports, "Call sign 'tin man' rejected. Romeo 1-1 will provide rules of engagement and orders if none are given. Suggestion based upon current known factors: convoy's expected vector of approach is zero-seven-five, crossing bridge from southeast. The bridge is a natural choke point. Deploying at either end of the bridge after convoy is on bridge will hinder target movement." It falls silent, then says, "Suggestion complete. Awaiting orders and rules of engagement."

It's only a *suggestion.* Hopefully that will look better than 'masterminded an ambush' if he gets caught.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn chuckles a little. "You don't know what I do with my free time. I might be a true Robin Hood for all you know." He jokes but follows Magnus, looking for a good ambush spot, "So...Juliet nil-nil and stripey are distraction, I sneak up and take what we're looking for, which team are you on, kid?" He glances to Magnus. "The bridge might work...I just need a spot where I can hide and sneak in on the truck from."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"Distraction?" Nena slips a hand under her hood to rub at an ear. "Hm, what kind of distraction should I be providing? I assume you don't want me to just start swinging when we see them. I'm not sure I know the language well enough to pull off some kind of military vibe. But I will try to do... Something. Maybe be really persistent in trying to converse, unless there's an idea."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">There is a bridge, that Robo-Richard has pointed out, but there is also a place nearer the edge of the bubble where the road dips down between two high, rocky walls. Both will leave the incoming truck blocked in a little, but the ravine has the added bonus of limited visibility. It is up to the group how they proceed. And if they plan to disguise themselves or lay traps.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">Fenris spends 2 common mechanical salvage to: Caltrops</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec examines their given options, then reaches into his backpack and rummages around in it, seemingly having put a mental block on Flynn and his kid teasing. Magnus pulls out what appears to be some metal bits. Screws and nails and generally just tiny sharp bits of metal, perhaps part of a maintainance kit he had. "Well if they're on foot, these will be a sudden surprise, and if they're in a vehicle, these might pop a tire or two... If they are driving something, and they get a blown out tire, some passers-by could stand in masqerading as good samaritans looking to assist. Even if they don't buy it, we'll have made them put on the breaks. Unless they're driving a tank or something. Then again..." he looks towards Richard and notes. "We have a tank. Hell, you're a roadblock all on your own there metal man. What's stopping you from just running them off the road?" he offers, before crossing his arms and getting to the point. "We doing the bridge of the outcropping. I'd rather we do the bridge. Don't want anyone falling off the edge. That means one of us too."</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec examines their given options, then reaches into his backpack and rummages around in it, seemingly having put a mental block on Flynn and his kid teasing. Magnus pulls out what appears to be some metal bits. Screws and nails and generally just tiny sharp bits of metal, perhaps part of a maintainance kit he had. "Well if they're on foot, these will be a sudden surprise, and if they're in a vehicle, these might pop a tire or two... If they are driving something, and they get a blown out tire, some passers-by could stand in masqerading as good samaritans looking to assist. Even if they don't buy it, we'll have made them put on the breaks. Unless they're driving a tank or something. Then again..." he looks towards Richard and notes. "We have a tank. Hell, you're a roadblock all on your own there metal man. What's stopping you from just running them off the road?" he offers, before crossing his arms and getting to the point. "We doing the bridge of the canyon? I'd rather we do the canyon. Don't want anyone falling off the edge. That means one of us too." ((Edited an oopsie.))</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glares impassively at Flynn. "Call sign 'Juliet nil-nil' is invalid." It also observes the valley the truck should end up driving through. "Demolitions of rock face may cause similar effect to spike strip. No orders received. Strategy to follow: force truck to halt within valley. This unit will stand by to prevent escape at near end of choke point. Other units are to attempt to stop vehicle by any means necessary. Romeo 1-1 will act as a last resort/base of fire. Weapons tight, do not engage until convoy personnel are confirmed hostile." With all the authority of an automaton, it waits to see whether its proposed plan is accepted. In either case, it starts rolling towards the end of the canyon to find a position that can't be seen from the road, but is still reasonably close in case it needs to throw itself into the path of a speeding vehicle. As it moves, it rotates on its chassis and says to Magnus, "Call sign 'metal man' rejected. Call signs are to be assigned through proper channels. Please desist from nicknaming this unit for clarity of communications."

'Fuck me, we're actually doing this. Maybe I won't even need to show my face? I hope not.' Those thoughts and many others bounce about in Richard's brain-pan. Here we go...</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn seems to like the rocky walls as an ambush spot. "The place over there will work. We'll have the high ground, it'll be out of view, and we can hide." He then smiles at Nena "You figure something out...so long there is no killing, you may make love or war as you wish. Or anything in between. Heck, you can try to old 'roadkill insurance fraud' thing." The feline glances to Magnus's improvised caltrops. "So, I take you're against taking the whole truck? How heavy is this box or server or thingamagig? But...it might indeed work." He rubs his chin a little. "A land slide, huh?" He glances to Richard. "We could go real old style, block the road with some rocks, sneak in while they remove the rocks. Trouble is if they try to drive around it. But...I bet War Machine over the could stop them if that should happen."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"That sounds good to me. I don't feel like falling. And I'm not one for making love with strangers, but I'll come up with something, sure. I prefer thinking on the spot anyway." Nena brushes off her sleeves and exhales. "Well, with that I guess I'm ready. I'll decide what to do and how to help when I see the situation!"</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec looks through his binoculars towards the direction of the incoming caravan. His eyes widen once he spots the vehicle approaching from the distance, lowering his binoc and turning to the team. "They're coming. We've not much time. Lotta dust being kicked up so I'd wager we're dealing with a motor vehicle there. If you're gonna put your plans into action, now's the time." He looks down at the improvised caltrops in his hand and shakes his head. "Nevermind the spikes. We don't have spare tires to use in case we do want to take the truck. Metal- I mean Romeo 1-1, set up a blockade. roll some rocks down, stand in the way, doesn't matter. You're the biggest one among us."

He then turns towards Nena and adds. "Nena, you have a tongue and a lot of strength to you, when they stop to a halt, approach them and try to squeeze them for information. See if we've been hoodwinked, if we have, I trust you'll let us know." He nods, then turns towards Flynn. "You know how to hide. When Nena has their attention, get in there. Try to get into the trunk or the back or wherever the storage compartment of the vehicle is. See what we're dealing with, sniff around and make sure we're not in for a fight. If we are, steal their weapons if you can. I'll join in and help with that once it all comes together. All clear?" Magnus asks, and puts his binoculars away. "We're out of time! Get moving!"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 isn't even going to bother asking Flynn to stop with the name calling any more. Time's wasting. It tries to get a rockfall to happen using its massive metallic mitts, but only manages to get a few stones to fall onto the road that the driver would easily avoid if they're paying attention. "Unit requires assistance with field engineering task. This rockfall is inadequate to stop-" Out of nowhere, a boulder falls down beside it, smashing a pile of debris across the road that would the undercarriage of anything short of a monster truck. It elevates its gaze to see what the heck caused that to happen. "Cancel request for assistance," it says, with a hint of synthetic shame in its voice as it retreats to its out-of-sight ambush post.

Is it possible for a ten meter tall genderless death machine to feel emasculated?</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn nods as the plan finally seems to get going. "Alright, bosskid." He throws a joking salute and slinks off to hide somewhere nearby, where he can see what is going on. Now he'd play the waiting game, it was up to the others to create an opening he could exploit.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I've got you covered," says Nena as she dusts her hands off and rolls her shoulders. "If I am not one for planning or caution, I have to be able to handle my own in other ways, right?" She leans against the boulder to wait. A distraction indeed. It was called for, and she would provide. They caravan would hopefully not be proceeding through this blockade, and the best way to start off amicably was to be seen from a distance, she figured, rather than as a surprise.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The well placed rock fall did not come a moment too soon! The dust does not have time to settle before a moderately sized military transport vehicle turns the bend in the road and descends into the little canyon.

The truck slows and stops about ten feet shy of the fallen rocks. It is an old vehicle, probably salvaged, and definitely not Zephyr issue. The back is covered in canvas, stretched taut over a framework of metal bars. Along with the truck a pair of noisy motorcycles pull up.

"Damn," one of the cyclists swears, removing his helmet to reveal a human male with rugged features, "No getting through this." He turns and shouts at whoever is driving the truck. "Back it up! We'll have to go over land a little ways! We gotta get the cargo to the Z today. They pay way better when the goods are fresh." He finally seems to notice Nena leaning against the boulder on the road and frowns. His hand moving slowly toward a holster on his bike. "What are you doing so far from the city, Kitty cat?" he asks.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec meanwhile is a shadow in the dust, he keeps his posture low and a keen eye on the situation, eyes dancing over the various details in the caravan that they'd halted. This... vehicle. This wasn't one of Zephyr's, yet these people spoke of delivery to them. Random scavvies from the wasteland perhaps? Hired mercs that'd robbed a settlement? The fox knew they had a nanite server with them, so what gives? How did they obtain it? Was there a village now missing its bubble? Was there anything left of that village? His features darken as the thought that these disgusting thugs may have well wiped out a peaceful settlement out there fills him with a seething wrath, but he didn't know the full story yet.

If his suspicions were realized however, he'd have several punks to haul off to the cells. Nevermind their weapons, he'd faced worse before, and he'd do it again. He raises his hand and gestures for Flynn to approach. "Swipe their weapons while they're distracted. They have a spare on their bikes, see if you can do anything about that. They have holdout weapons on their leg holsters too, but those are the smaller problem." he instructs, then gestures towards R-1-1 to stand ready. He gestures with his hand for the giant mech to keep low to the ground so as to not give himself away, and stay still in waiting for the main confrontation.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 sees the fennec's signal and stays put. It waits, silent and motionless. Nothing sounds like it's gone tits up just yet, but as they say, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Better pessimistinc and prepared than optimistic and oblivous.

Richard holds out hope that he won't be a necessary part of this plan.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn saw his opportunity, with the roadblock and Nena drawing all the attention. He moved in, fast too, clearly all too used to sneaking around. Suddenly, the holstered weapons were gone, in the possession of the feline. That was priority one, the next was to check on the cargo. He'd peek into the back of it, see if he could find the crate, or perhaps something else of interest...and perhaps see who was driving as well.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">"I was hoping to get the road clear before you got here, but it seems like I was a little slow," Nena observes the motion of the man's hands, and lifts her own. "I came here to make sure the path was clear of obstructions, people and otherwise, for your delivery. But, you can see that there's an obstruction. Kind of heavy and big for one person, you know?" She blatantly lies. "The other route has sightings of thugs, this is still the safest way through, if you want to help me clear it."</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The man with his helmet off, apparently the leader holds up a hand to his men, and swings off his bike. "I think we can handle some thugs," he says, his hand resting on his holstered pistol, "Who sent you out here to make sure the road was clear?" The man looks around suspiciously.

Flynn has no trouble slipping into the back of the truck. A little bit of twine is all that holds the back canvas flap secure. Inside is a collection of assorted salvage. Some crates, a few small machines and parts, and four large animal cages, still definitely too small for the humanoid canine mutants held inside. Two are larger males, one a magnificent collie with a recently bloodied nose, and the other a hefty bulldog. One cage holds a cramped pair of rottweiler women trying to calm the inhabitants of the last cage, a quartet of children of various canine breeds.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec squints heavily as he sees Flynn slip into the truck. He didn't trust that feline one bit. Casting R-1-1 a gesture to be ready, he murmurs just loud enough that their metallic guardian hears. "If you hear gunfire, intervene." With that, Magnus curls up into a ball and ever-so quietly rolls down towards their blockade, before slipping behind the truck, and catching Flynn in action. The feline was there with all the goodies, so Magnus casts him an evil look, and silently gestures that he was watching him. Seeing how the feline had disarmed them however, he peeks over the edge of the truck, and listens in on what was happening with Nena. Who were these thugs? He needed answers...</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 is a decent distance away and can just barely make out Magnus's command, but that was its plan anyway. Gun ready. MGs ready. All zeroed to battlesight distance on a human-sized target. The convoy guards are taking a suspicious tone with Nena. Let's hope her excuses hold up, or this is going to be a messy ambush.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn frowns, his brow furrowing. He holds a finger up in front of his lips, urging them to be quiet. He glances over the cages, the crates, then out, as if thinking. Finally, he exits the truck again, instead heading out...blinking a little as Magnus suddenly was there. He gestures Magnus closer, then just lifts the tarp out of the way so Magnus could see the cages, pointing to the one with children and giving the fennec a concerned look. The feline then points to Magnus before pointing to the driver of the truck. Next, he points to himself, and then makes a steering wheel motion, giving Magnus an inquisitive look to see if he got it. Only then does he climb out of the truck, and sneaks towards the passenger door of the truck, trying to get a small look.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena takes a gruff tone of her own, hoping to match wavelengths, as it were. "Does it matter? Someone wanted to make sure whatever you're carrying made it to its destination in one piece, and they paid me to make sure it did. That's the extent of my knowledge, and the extent of my care. I came out here, I get the money either way. Do you want to help me move these rocks or not, and take the risk of running around?"</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The biker frowns at Nena, but then nods. "Yeah, fine," he growls. He turns and waves at his men. "Get your lazy asses out here!" he shouts, "The faster we get these rocks moved, the faster we get paid!" He looks back at Nena. "You got a CAT or something? We're not moving these things by hand."

Meanwhile, the other cyclist has removed his helmet and dismounted his bike. The driver and passenger are also getting out. "Think there's a big iron bar in the back, boss. You want it?" the driver calls as he steps out of the old truck.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec blinks a few times and tries to understand what he was being told. The fact there were people here held captive was... concerning to say the least. He gestures for the captives to remain silent, then moves over towards the back of the driver's seat. Tracing over his teeth with his tongue, the fox grazes his teeth with one nail, covering it in some kind of strange, viscous liquid of a sickly purple color. His hand reaches out and strikes the victim in the neck, holding him still as his nail sinks into the flesh, delivering its payload directly into the bloodstream. In just a few moments of struggling, the driver is paralyzed from head to toe, and Magnus' hand removes itself from the person's throat. Drawing his blade, Magnus grazes his front row fangs with it too, coating the surface with the same icky liquid... he was getting ready for the shit show...</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn watched the driver twitch as he is poisoned, then moves in. He climbs in, and pulls roughly the driver into the passenger seat. As soon as he can, he slips into the driver's seat, and puts it into reverse gear. He glances back at the fennec. "Hold on. Might be a bit rough, I haven't driven in a decade." The feline grins, and then gives it a good deal of throttle, and then slips the clutch up, sending it into backwards movement with as much speed as he can. The bikes and riders were probably in his way....they wouldn't be for long.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena is either playing coy, or missing the point. Given her self-professed lack of experience with the language, quite possible the latter. "Yeah? I'm the cat," she answers the two as she moves to one side of the boulder, peeking towards the truck to see how the others were doing. "I'll do the heavy lifting, just help me guide it so it roll-flips straight. She only had to keep them distracted a little longer, she figured, and putting herself near the boulder this way made for quick cover should the need arise.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn waits and watches the passenger move off to move the rocks, while Magnus takes care of the driver. As soon as he can, he slips into the front of the truck and into the driver's seat, and puts it into reverse gear. He whispers back to the caged mutants "Hold on. Might be a bit rough, I haven't driven in a decade." The feline grins, and then gives it a good deal of throttle, and then slips the clutch up, sending it into backwards movement with as much speed as he can. The bikes and riders were probably in his way....they wouldn't be for long.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The males in the back of the truck seem to be heavily sedated and in pretty rough shape, but the females give a fearful look at Magnus and Flynn, but continue to attend to the puppies. And there is the wild thing, they are CHILDREN! Without accelerated aging from nanites.

The driver, a large man with a swarthy, greek look to him falls, paralyzed, to the road, never even seeing the fox that got him.

The leader, and the other two turn as the truck roars to life and roars into gear, jerking hard into reverse and chugging back up the incline! "Stop them!" he roars, turning and pulling his pistol on Nena!

The thug who was in the passenger's side of the truck starts running toward the truck, yelling and struggling to pull a pistol from his belt, while the other biker runs to his bike, which has been knocked over by Flynn's wild escape. Finding his shotgun missing, he shouts and works to heave his bike back up so he can ride.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"What are you doing?!" Magnus asks as the truck starts to move. He steadies himself by grabbing onto the cages, and readies his revolver in case they had something or someone to fight off. "Where are you- oh... just drive!" Magnus dismisses it and leaves Flynn to do what he needed. If things went sour, he'd un-fuck it... it was his job to do so. Turning his attention to the captives, Magnus asks the obvious questions that'd been gnawing at him. "Who are you people? Why are you in those cages? Who put you there, and why?"</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Shouting, squealing tires, and gunfire. That's R 1-1's cue. Enter the humongous humanoid tank, stage right. He skids to a stop side-on to the valley and begins to drink in the fire-hose of details before him. One on the ground. Neutrailized. Three foot-mobiles... One gun for each of them. Truck driver is non-hostile. "CEASE YOUR HOSTILITIES," it commands, leveling a weapon at each of the remaining targets. "YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY."</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn glances back at Magnus. "I'm doing what I do best. Relocating things without asking the percieved owners. Today...it's getting caged people out of a firefight. Not what I expected when I got out of bed, but whatever." The feline keeps the truck going, backing and backing, trying to speed up. "Oh, and if you can do something to get the thugs off our tail, then please, feel free to do so."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Being shot at is usually a cue. The bang one of those things that sets off alarms in the head and sparks fire. With a twitch Nena avoids the shot just barely, and steps forward. In close quarters, the tiger trusted her hands more than any firearm, and with those hands she seeks to prevail. To grapple. To control the arm with the gun, and the body its attached to, to bring him low. That was her aim, anyway.</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">One of the female rottweilers just shakes her head and does her best to tend the children. The other looks at Magnus, trying not to be shaken into her friend. "Bad English," she says with a strong hispanic accent, "You speak Spanish?" she asks.

The man trying to right his bike sees both R 1-1 and his companion sprawled out on the ground, not moving and he slowly raises his hands and gets down on the ground. His eager friend chasing after the truck, which admittedly does not move particularly fast in reverse and uphill, finally draws his pistol and takes a wild shot, the bullet pinging off the road.

Nena handily takes down her opponent, catching his arms and executing a masterful Judo throw to slam him against the ground. He gasps and drops his weapon.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">"Ah... no." the fennec shakes his head, then flits his ears as the gunshot sounds off. He leans out from the first open space he could find, the back of the truck, and aims his hand towards the one chasing after them. "May as well take you down, I get the feeling I'll be collecting you punks later." Magnus growls under his breath as he slings himself over the upper edge of the back door, and stands dexterously atop the truck. He aims and puts his hands together, firing off two thick streams of webbing towards their pursuer, hitting him in the legs to trip him up, then once more in the chest to further immobilize him. The fox stomps on the truck, hoping to get Flynn to slow down or stop now that they weren't being chased.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Three hostiles down, one compliant. One hostile remaining. R 1-1 elevates its cannon out of the way and trains one MG each on the two targets still standing. "YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS-" Just then, Magnus does some comic book shit and takes the only one still trying to do their job down to the pavement. How long has Mags been able to do that? "Compliance achieved."

All right! Two bullets fired, and none of them by Richard. Wonderful. He keeps one gun each on the man by the bike and the one plastered onto the road.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn looks forward as the fennec stomps, and breathes a small sigh of relief as he sees the thug trip up, and lets the truck slow, getting a bit more distance from the thugs before finally letting it stop. Pulling the handbrake, he lets it idle. He then pokes his head out the side of the truck, he calls out to Magnus. "Good shot...please tell me that didn't come from where I'm thinking." Not waiting for an answer, he climbs into the back of the truck, getting to work on unlocking the cages...whether they needed keys or not.</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Nena looks out at the others. They seemed to have it handled, so, she turns around and takes a seat atop the one she put on the ground. She wasn't carrying any restraints, so she figured she'd take the role, herself, after knocking the gun further away. She eyes the bike up, as well. Not near as tricked out as hers, but... It worked, so...</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">The locks are not difficult to break, and the dogs gratefully climb out, the women tending to the men's wounds while the children do their best to get in the way. It seems that none of the concious ones speak english. Perhaps Mister Cooper can deal with them. The truck does contain the crate he asked after, and if he gets that, he may as well get the problems that go with it.</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The arrangements are made, and Magnus retrieves the captors into custody. "You dirtbags are going to the precinct to explain what you're doing caging children." He growls as he produces the very cuffs he claimed he hadn't brought, slamming them on the gour perps. All and all, the fox looked satisfied with the turnout.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Somewhere inside Romeo 1-1's skull, Richard realizes he has a golden opportunity. Magnus is arresting these fine fellows, so they're going back to Fairhaven... and back to their employers. Maybe there's a message they can take with them, and start a fire to light up some other shady shit. He thinks back to where he got this form: outside of a NORAD knockoff that's no doubt doing mad science to mutantkind. 'Romeo 1-1 puts a finger to the side of its head where an ear would be and declares digitally, "Theta Base, Romeo 1-1. Target vehicle secure. Returning to base. Local forces were useful, no casualties friend or foe. Returning to Theta Base with cargo, out."

It's a lie. All of it. But sometimes the best way to catch a liar is with lies of your own. He just hopes planting this false flag does what he's hoping it will. Two birds, one stone and all that.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn sits back on the crate, oddly enough not caring much about it in the moment, just watching the children. "I...haven't seen children in years." He pulls down his scarf and runs a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. He just props up his head with an elbow on his knee for a moment, but soon shakes his head and climbs out of the truck, needing a breath of fresh air. "Let's...get the raccoon in here, so we can wrap this up."</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">Once Magnus starts rounding up the thugs, Nena goes to inspect the bike more up close, rubbing her chin. "... Well I assume they won't need it where they're going. Nobody will mind if I take this, right? In either case, minimal bloodshed, very nice. I am happy that it worked out so well."</div>[[Category:RPLogs]]

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog

2019-12-31T23:07:54Z

Slippery Richard:

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

=Date=
Early November 2019

Set the morning after [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd - RPLOG]]

=Log=
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. The alarm on Bleu's comm goes off, and the satyr stretches, and slowly opens his eyes. "Mmm, I had a *fabulous* dream," he murmurs, before turning and coming face-to-sleeping-face with the other occupant of his bed. "Mmm, notta dream, then." He studies the elf for some moments, as he gathers his thoughts. "Drunk as a skunk, yeah." The satyr stretches again, and then sits up on the edge of his bed, but doesn't move to disturb Richard yet. Instead, he makes his way out of the bedroom toward the kitchen...

Richard stirs as he hears... something. Something loud. Everything from his sinuses up hurts like hell. Something nearby moves, shifting the pleasantly soft surface he's laying on. There's someone else here. He feels their body heat move away from him (were they sleeping on him? *With* him?) and out of the room. Each of their hoofbeats on the floor could be a bass drum kick, as far as his ears are concerned. He groans under his breath but can't bring himself to move yet.

Bleu has a feeling the elf in his bed has a massive hang over, after all the wine, whiskey, and vodka, so he's busy whipping up a concoction of tomato juice and a single raw egg. Once sufficiently mixed, the satyr makes his way back toward the bedroom, carrying a glass of the red liquid, to which he's added several drops of hotsauce. Moving over toward the bed, he rests a hand on Richard's shoulder. "Hey, babe... You awake yet?"

Richard hears a voice. It sounds like a guy. That, or his head is throbbing like a motherfucker. No, wait... yeah, it's both. He brings his right hand up to his head, as if that will do something to ease the pain. Bare skin, long ears, hair on top... seems that he went to bed as an elf. Or got a skull fracture as one, and then was dragged home by some passerby who has a really nice bed. He opens one eye experimentally. Too bright! Ow. He groans aloud now. "Five more minutes..."

Bleu sets his glass on the nightstand, then perches himself on the edge of the mattress beside the groggy elf. "Five more minutes? Mmm, I suppose having your sexy ass in my bed for five minutes longer isn't such a bad thing. I suppose you have no memory of last night?"

Sexy ass? What? He doesn't often hear men saying that. He squints in the direction of the speaker. Some sort of... kemonomimi-morph goat? Something about the legally-blind sight of this person fills his stomach with butterflies and warmth. No, wait again... yeah, that warm feeling is something else. Lower. A puzzle piece clicks into place. Called sexy. Warm feeling in belly (note to self, check what your bits look like when you're getting up). Now that his focus is down there, there's a slick, damp feeling between his legs. He shifts his hand behind his ear and finds the postage-stamp of a sterility patch is still in place, causing him to exhale in relief. "...was it a good night?"

"Good?" The satyr snorts, and then laughs. "It was more than good. It was *superb*. I fucked your brains out, my dear elf. I don't often get so...physical, with someone I only just met. On the first date, as it were, but you were practically begging for it." Bleu smiles, and then reaches for the glass. "Anyway, drink this. It might help with your hangover. Old family concoction. No guarantees it'll work, though, but it's worth a try."

That seals it. He got laid last night. Richard sits up with a grunt, cradling his head in his hand. Some of the blood pounding around his skull works its way out with gravity's assistance. He squints toward the offered drink. Drink? Drinking game. There was a drinking game last night. "Thank you." He takes the glass, smells it, coughs at the scent of it, and then steels himself. He downs a quarter of the glass in one gulp. "...remember... I had whiskey, for some reason. Where'd we meet, Again?"

Bleu rests his hand on the elf's shoulder. "We met on that convoy to get servos that my mate Magnus set up. I was hitting on you the whole way, and then I convinced you and another guy to follow me home after it was over..." He smirks. "And you're correct. There was a drinking game. You insisted. And then we banged. And you seemed to enjoy it..."

Richard chugs another two quarters of the grody glassful of... god only knows what. The holistic medicinal brew does seem to be having an effect. Maybe it works. Maybe the flavor distracting him from his pain. Doesn't matter. As he lowers the glass, he catches a glimpse of his nude body. Tatoos. Those had better not be permanent. That set of lumps between his legs is definitely part of him. Cripes. He hopes that he wasn't the one penetrating. "Yeah... I remember a dog. Where is he?"

Bleu gives Richard's shoulder a squeeze. "He turned himself into a right pretty vase last night that I set on the mantel over my fireplace, but it looks like he let himself out sometime during the night, because he's not there anymore." The satyr shrugs. "Anyway... If you're starting to feel better, perhaps you'd like to join me in my whirlpool tub? Or something?" Preferably something that keeps you...naked." He grins lecherously. "Just a thought..."

Richard chugs the last of the glass before handing it back to... who's this guy again? Aw, hell. He was never good with names. Naturally, that doesn't improve when he's drunk. He checks his comm to figure out who he was with yesterday during that expedition. One of the agent portraits looks like the guy he's with. At the very least, it's the same blur of colors. 'Bleu.' That sounds right. That little feeling in his stomach is back again... yep, it must be him. "Yes please. A warm bath sounds nice." He loops his arm around Bleu's shoulders and gets ready to stand. "Lead the way."

Bleu passes his own arm around Richard's waist, to support the likely-still-wobbly elf, and helps him stand slowly. "I'll be happy to. This way," he says, slowly leading his friend toward the bathroom. Once there, he makes sure to turn on the tap, then takes the chance to kiss Richard on the cheek, because why not? "I'm afraid you got drunk so quickly last night that we never quite got properly introduced. We got past knowing each other's names, but little else. I think you said you came from or worked for New Dawn, but not much else..."

Richard stumbles alongside the satyr, stepping around his own swollen sack and a schlong that swings down nearly to his shins - while soft. He smiles lightly at the brush of lips against his cheek. That feels sort of familiar. "Came from out East, actually. Lived in New England before all of this. I was on vacation with my parents in San Fran, visiting one of my dad's friends... next thing I know, a fireman turns into a dalmatian and we're driving away in our rental car." He sighs. "Ten years in the humans' camp before I worked up the guts to go out *and* stay human."

Bleu nods his head, watching the tub fill. "Mmm, I see. Some vaycay, eh?" He laughs, grimly. "I was born and raised here in Fairhaven myself. Was attending the local college here, majoring in anthropology, with my ultimate goal being to pursue a career in archaeology... Needless to say, that went nowhere." The satyr sighs. "But hey! Now I'm a creature from Greco-Roman myth, and I'm worshipping a Roman god, so eh... Guess it could be worse? Least my love of ancient history isn't wasted!"

Richard puts his free hand up. "Oh yeah. You mentioned that he saw you, or something." His hand continues up to his face, where it rubs some of the sleep out of his eyes. "Wasted. Fuck..." he groans. "How much did we drink last night?"

"Well, an entire bottle of whiskey, another entire bottle of vodka, and quite a lot of my satyr wine.” Bleu laughs. "You were completely incoherent by the end. I *might* have taken advantage of you in a compromised state," he muses reflectively. "But you seemed willing, so... Anyway, here, let me help you into the tub..."

Richard graciously accepts the goat-man's hand, lowering himself gingerly into the jacuzzi. He drapes his lewdicrously large bits over the edge of the tub and sits there while he checks the temperature with his legs. "The way I remember it... the parts I remember of it... you were flirting with me all day. I asked for-" He turns his head to speak directly to Bleu over the bubbling waters. He's failed to account for the change in heights. The thought of a 'thank you' blowjob crosses his mind, but it'd be too awkward in this position. He adjusts to look up towards Bleu's face. "I asked for that whiskey after a glass of beer, but that was it."

After he's helped into friend into the bubbling water, the satyr starts to follow. Giving a thought to Richard's words, he hums. "You're right, I forgot the glass of beer." He brushes a hand through Richard's hair, before finally lowering himself into the tub beside the elf. "But yes, I wasn't just flirting, I was shamelessly flirting."

Richard flops the rest of the way into the bubbly tub. "Can't be totally shameless. You're talking about it like you feel bad for doing it." He finds a spot where the jets of water massage ever part of his bod- whoa! Okay, that's either something to be greatly concerned about he's got somewhere that water's *supposed* to be able to flow into. He squirms in surprise, then repositions until the offending waterjet isn't getting in the way of his ability to relax. "Just a heads up," he mumbles, eyes closed, "I'm pretty sure I can't drown. No need to go crazy if I pass out again."

Bleu settles down into the water, and sighs with pleasure. "Who says I feel bad? I got you in my bed , didn't I? Who knows where it goes from here, eh?" He grins, watching the elf. "Can't drown, though, huh? Now I'm wondering how you discovered that fact. Fell into a lake by accident, and stayed under for an hour?" The satyr reaches out, under the water, to cop a feel of Richard's thigh.

Richard closes his eyes and leans back, enjoying the weight of the water and his own body. And something that's definitely not a waterjet that's brushing over his leg. That gets him to open one eye again. "Can't have been bad." he mutters. "No real story to that. I was comparing how long I can hold my breath as an orca or dolphin or something to how long I can hold it in land-based forms. The answer was 'so long I got bored of it' in both cases."

Bleu huhs, and nods. "Fascinating. I'd challenge you to a contest, but I'm afraid I probably *can* drown." He laughs ruefully. "That said..." He scoots over some, closer to his new friend. "I do have *one* form..." He before another word is said, the satyr is changing.

Richard watches with mild interest as the upper half of the satyr shifts into form that manages to look predatory and aquatic while still remaining mostly human. It's not often that he gets to see shifting from this side of the change. His interest is piqued even further when Bleu's chest takes on a bit more blubber than the rest of his trim but insulated physique. That face still looks like a 'he,' not accounting for the gills and ear-fins. He also can't see what's going on beneath the hot tub's frothing surface. The feel of the hand on his thigh changes to a much different texture, leading him to ask, "Which form is that? Can't tell from here."

Bleu mmms, appearing to luxuriate even more in the warm bubbling water. This form is truly made for it, after all. One of Bleu's more exotic looks. "Merfolk," he replies to Richard. "Like the classical mermaid, though to be honest I look more like a merman. All my shapes tend to look more masculine than anything, really," he admits. Shifting a bit more, he sighs. "Wish I could show you my fish tail. A sight to behold, really, but this tub is not too awful conducive to swimming..."

Richard groans softly and shrugs, saying, "I could go look. Protein's supposed to be good for hangovers..." His hand finds its way over Bleu's (yep, that hand is rough on both sides now) and he attempts to intertwine his fingers with the semi-feminine seaperson. The webs between Bleu's fingers put an end to that before it even begins. He resigns to loose hand-holding for now.

Bleu chuckles. "Mmm, I have no doubt you'll get your protein here soon enough." He winds up shifting again to lean against Richard's side, grinning a little at the attempt to intertwine their fingers. "This is one of my newer forms," he adds, "It's somewhat rare, to be honest. I have heard rumors that there's a colony of merfolk just off the coast, but they rarely show themselves, so the form remains rare..."

Richard quirks an eyebrow at the mention of a merfolk colony. "Huh. I was swimming all over the ocean a few months back. Husky and dolphin dispute. Long story. Didn't see any merfolk colonies." He closes his eyes and pushes off of the wall of the tub, allowing himself to fall forwards. "Tell me about it lateblb-" He disappears beneath the foaming surface of the jacuzzi and into its depths. His free hand feels its way around blindly, while his other remains on Bleu's.

"Eh, I only heard it as a rumor," Bleu starts to reply, before Richard suddenly submerges. Under the water, Bleu's tail is curled somewhat awkwardly at the bottom the tub, and it only takes a few moments before Richard's fingers brush across scales and one of Bleu's ventral fins, which causes the mer to shift a little in response.

Richard keeps feeling around along Bleu's fishtail. All the rushing water is disorienting. He can't hear, he can't see, and he's only got one hand to poke around with. At least the jacuzzi isn't too loud. It's kind of like a white noise machine down here. A white noise machine for several other senses. He brushes up against something scaly. That could only be Bleu. It's easier to run his hand along the texture this way but it gets narrower and- no, that's the top of a fin. Other way it is, then. He raises his hand off the surface and brushes his fingertips upward, trying to find some landmarks.

Bleu tenses up again, as Richard's fingers work their way upward along his tail, toward the junction where his humanoid upper body meets his aquatic lower half. No hips, or thighs, perhaps a rough approximation, though. However, one landmark the elf does find is a sensitive slit, which causes Bleu to squirm when it's felt over.

There it is. Richard maneuvers underwater to bring his head to the slit, with his stupidly large amount of ballast dragging limply along the pool floor below him. Once he's there, he moves in for some fish taco. Could've sworn this guy said he's still a herm... yep, he is. These are not my swim goggles. Richard drags his tongue over the slit, trailing lazily up its length. He pauses in his upward journey to circle Bleu's nub a fes times before continuing. He closes his lips around one of the nautical nuts, suckling it to sow the seed for subsequent harvest…

Bleu shifts, and moans involuntarily, his 'hips' bucking sharply when he feels that sudden, aquatic stimulation against his fishy nether regions. He could almost swear everything in this body is more sensitive than any other form he has mastered, but that just could be the endorphins in his brain making him think that. "Oooh, there, you've got it," he says, purely for himself, knowing that Richard can't hear it.

Richard releases the suction abrutply and returns to his voyage towards the lighthouse he knows must be due north of here. He drags his tongue over the upper slope of the scrote and up the twitching underside of Bleu's boner. 'Tastes like surf 'n turf,' he thinks to himself as he crosses from the plump tube running along the keel of the vessel and up to the ligament just below its tip. It's a lot smaller than it was before. More manageable, as well. He might be able to get this whole thing in his mouth.

Bleu tenses up again, and bites his lower lip. "F-fuck, there you go..." His shaft is so narrow now. Almost vulnerable. Sleek and thin, and it throbs to attention as the elf's tongue runs up along its underside, toward the tapering tip. Milky pre spurts out, dispersing through the water. His tail shifts, as his arousal blooms.

Hmm. Could have sworn this was freshwater. No matter. Richard swirls his tongue around the tip, confirming his suspicions that it's a regular cock by pre P-day standards. No exotic shapes, no barbs, ridges, or bulges, no ridiculous sizes, just good ol' fashioned dick like folks have been suckin' for generations. The pioneers used to ride these babies for miles. 'I'm not sure what I did last night,' Richard thinks to himself, 'but it must have been good if my first instinct was to blow this guy.' Like an eel pouncing on a smaller fish, he takes the full length of flesh in one fluid motion. He feels his host's hand squeezing against his own, and braces himself against the bucking of Bleu's hips that aren't anatomically hips anymore. The situation is starting to get to Richard as well, his supersized soft sausage beginning to bloat. 'Yep. I'm getting off from giving him a BJ. There's some Pavlovian psychology nonsense going on here,' he muses, bringing his free hand down to tend to himself, 'and I am 100% fine with that.'

Bleu finally closes his eyes, letting his head drop back against the edge of the tub, licking his thin lips as his guest begins to give him what is sure to be a good blowjob. Underwater, no less. He'd bred the the elf thoroughly enough, so it was no doubt a good time for tables to turn, and he gives Richard's hand another squeeze, letting out a hiss of pleasure.

Richard, now at the base of the cock, forms suction in his mouth. He slowly, achingly slowly, raises his lips along the length while maintaining that vacuum, shimmying his tongue side to side along the way. He only releases it when he feels the wide end of Bleu's tip coming past his lips. He repeats this, again and again, speeding up just a hair each time. Meanwhile, down below, his leviathan stirs. The massive manhood expands in pulses, still divinely soft in his hands even as it reaches its full hardness - and up to his collarbone. 'Hot damn, I went to bed HUGE. Not as big as the time I slept on it, but damn. I'd need two hands for-" he thinks, until his train of thought derails itself. 'Riiiight. I have a mutation for that.' The flesh of his hands and arms ripple as a new pair sprout from just a couple of ribs below his original pair.

Bleu is completely unaware of Richard's shifting, his head still lolled back, the merman unable to form any real coherent thoughts while the elf works over over his tapered rod so enthusiastically. "Mmmm... Yesss..." is all he can say, though it falls on deaf ears. Little matter. His climax will tell of his pleasure well enough.

Richard sets to work on his own beast from the deep as he speeds up his mouthwork to a steady bobbing, interrupted only by the occasional stop to swirl his tongue around Bleu's cockhead. His own tip, he comes to realize, is tantalizingly close to the mer-herm's slit. Sadly, it's also horrifically girthy and has no chance of even attempting to fit. Using his lower hands, he guides its head into position just outside. He uses his free upper hand to mash the head against Bleu's lips, thumbing the fishy clit as he does. Each stroke of his lower hands grinds the idiotically large tip of his dick against Bleu's lips. FfffUck this feels good. In a momentary lapse of awareness, the lower hand on the same side as the one that's already holding Bleu's rises up to join the original one in the forbidden ritual of handholding.

That can't be right. Two hands gripping his own? Two left hands, no less? But Bleu is too addled to ponder that conundrum for long, as the elf's sucking and the simultaneous prodding at the entrance to pussy drags him right back into the depths of pleasure. He lets out a sudden, ragged gasp, his face screws up, and suddenly erupts his much thinner and more runny cum right into Richard's maw. Seems like Bleu's got more of a hair trigger when he's a mer.

Richard is caught off guard by how fast he got the satyr-turned-seaman to cum! He pulls back to the end and tickles his tongue across it for all he's worth. It's a feat of coordination for him to keep his lips around the shaft of the faintly flopping fishman. He swallows the watery cum. If nothing else, it'll help rehydrate from last night. His own pillar prods in futility against Bleu's female sex, riding up over the thumb still working his clitoris and bumping up against the back of his balls. Richard didn't get his own orgasm, but that wasn't the point. Heck, he still feels warm inside from last night. Time to hang on and ride out his partner's pleasure.

Bleu's cum might be surprisingly thin and watery (no doubt a nod to his fishy half), but it does gush forth with a rather prodigious load, for well over a minute, until the flow begins to finally subside. The fishman slumps back against the side of the tub, his shoulders sagging, and he sighs. "Mmm, I love the subtle differences of orgasm between species..."

Richard sucks down the cum by the mouthful, not missing a single drop. Well, he thinks he didn't miss any. His eyes are screwed shut against the water. He drank a decent deal of that along with the sea-man's semen. Hope this stuff isn't chlorinated. He would say that this sub-aquatic snack did a favor for his hangover, but that impulsive shift at the end feels like it aggravated it again. Dammit. With his business 20,000 leagues under the hot tub concluded, he dips his thumb into Bleu's cunt, dragging it out and flicking the bean as a final, post-orgasmic tease. He pushes off of the bottom of the tub with both of his lower - oh hell, how did that one get up there?! He brings his lower left hand back down to push off of the bottom. His head breaks the surface of the water first. Blinking water out of his eyes, he opens his mouth to speak... and finds that he can't. The lips are moving, but nothing's coming out.

Bleu's head is still tipped back, the fish boi looking up at the ceiling, until he hears his partner resurface, and turns his attention to the elf. "Mmm, how was that?" he asks, before realizing Richard seems to be incapable of speech. "Hey, dude... You alright? Did I break you?"

Richard keeps trying to speak. Nothin' doin'. He shakes his head at Bleu's question and tries to stand up further. Once he's got his upper shoulders above the water, the weight and pressure inside of his chest makes the nature of the problem evident to him. He looks down with a bemused expression, then puts up a finger above the water in a 'wait a second' gesture. His lower set of hands ball up into each other. He turns his head away, and with a sharp strike into the bottom of his sternum, he spits out a gout of water. "*HACK* Fine," he gasps between thrusts, “Lungs full.” He settles back in beside Bleu, still clearing out water in fits of coughing. When he's fully seated, his second-in-command performs an unauthorized 'up periscope.' He stares sternly at his surfaced cockhead. "Nobody asked for your opinion," he rasps at his own dick. It begins to wilt below the waves.

Bleu watches with a concerned expression at first, but it soon turns bemused. "Huh. Y'know, nanites are great. Though if they aren't inclined to prevent drowning, that is still one of the ways you can kill a person stone dead, along with vaporization, incineration, and decapitation. But, enough of that morbid topic. Are you hungry, by any chance?"

Richard nods slowly. "Fuck yes," he groans, "Nanites are determined to not let me die. That's at the expense of my stomach. Shifting probably doesn't help that." He rubs at his temples. "Think it brought my headache back," he claims, bringing a second pair of tatooed arms up to brush his hair out of his eyes. With his vision clear, he looks sidelong at the mer. "I've had all of those happen to me to some degree. Woken up sore and hungry each time."

Bleu huhs. "You've been decapitated? I was told that nanites couldn't fix that..." He shrugs. "Probably was misinformed, though." As he talks, he starts to shift again, to something with legs, so he can exit the tub. "What do you want to eat, though? Breakfast? Lunch? Brunch?"

Richard says, "To a degree. Usually black out right as it's happening. Scout work is brutal. Kaiju Island behemoths... fucking... disintegration beam breath and no sense of empathy." He groans, continuing to rub his aching head. "Ugh... I'd say I feel like hell, but I've been there. No more shifting until this headache is gone." He catches a glance of Bleu's own shifting body. Looks like it did before, but without the goat ears and horns. "You might be the only thing here it doesn't hurt to look at."

Bleu indeed does look the same... Slightly less rugged somehow, though. Not as muscular. He chuckles . "Your flattery will get you far, my dear. Mmm, c'mon. Let's go get you feeling better. Think you can still walk with that massive pecker of yours, though?" He starts to climb out, revealing his perfectly perky little human ass, and human legs. He looks almost like a teenager. "Here, give me your hand..."

Richard catches himself watching a drop of water roll over his humanized host's behind. The elf chuckles weakly. "This has to be one of the top 5,000 gayest things I've done this year." Both of his right hands rise from the water. "Take your pick. I'll try not to trip on myself."

Bleu grips Rich's upper hand, and helps pull him upward. "Mmm, so, you're not normally gay, I take it? Bisexual, like me, or did I ravish a poor straight man?" He grins wickedly, whilst helping the elf get to his feet, and head out of the bathroom.

Richard shakily climbs out of the tub with Bleu's assistance. Man, are satyrs not affected by alcohol *or* moisturizers? The difference between these hands is night and day. He tosses his upper arm over Bleu's shoulder once he's on solid ground, steadying his weak legs against the forward swing of that still wet potato sack of a scrote. The lower hand loosely grips one of the former satyr's ass cheeks. "Top 1,000," he mutters. With the leverage of both arms, he swings the two of them into a kiss. His deep moaning resonates through Bleu's jaw as his probing tongue darts inside, intent on wiping that grin off of his face and replacing it with another one. Just as quick as it started, it's over. He pulls away. "You wish." He returns to resting limply on Bleu's shoulders. "Always preferred feminine people, but everyone's drop dead gorgeous nowadays."

Bleu leans against Richard, and returns that kiss, as they move out into the main room of the apartment. "Mmm, I get that. I was the same way, in fact, but nowadays I'll bang just about anything that moves," he notes, as he guides the elf to his couch. "Men, women, hermaphrodites... All fair game, hah!"

Richard lifts his lower hand off of Bleu's buttock, allowing it to hang onto his upper arm's elbow. "Plenty of options, now." He allows himself to be gently lowered into the seat. "Feel like I'm repeating myself..." His burgeoning ballsack and knee-length when limp knob cascade over and conform to the front corner of the seat. Richard grunts and rubs his eyes some more, his lower arms bracing themselves on his knees "...Fffuck, I just got a head rush for some reason. What do we have to eat? What time is it, even?"

Bleu checks his comm. "Just around 11AM... Still early yet. As for breakfast, how does an omelette sound? One of of my mate's works on a farm in Woodfield, and provides me with fresh produce and eggs every week. I've been told I'm a pretty good cook. So... What do ya say?" He grins at the elf, whilst rubbing his nearest thigh.

Beneath that gentle hand, Richard's mutation-muscled thigh tenses in stony tautness and relaxes into putty in time with a long, drawn out breath. "Yes please. With ketchup on the side, if you have it."

Bleu mhmms, and nods his head, as he gets up off the couch. "Wait here.... It'll be ready in about half an hour... Feel free to check out my DVD collection while I'm in the kitchen..."

Richard isn't in much of a condition to get up and paw through the collection. However, in the throbbing mess that is his head, he can still browse from his spot on the couch. Plenty of pre and post-nanite titles on the shelves. His elf eyes see the Lord of the Rings trilogy, both Star Wars trilogies, classics like Apocalypse now and Citizen Kane, a cluster of romantic comedies, a cluster of actual comedies, a box set of some old British sci-fi show, and Space Jam on VHS in addition to the post-nanite movies he recalls seeing when he had to babysit the Zephyr nursery (they pawn that job off on just about everybody, it seems). That's only a fraction of the things there. Too tired to investigate further, he simply waits on the couch with his eyes shut, attempting to catch a quick nap.

Bleu sings, while he works in the kitchen, something undefined, while he works on the two omelettes. He also pours up two glasses of orange juice. The half hour passes quickly, and eventually the human steps back out of his kitchen, this time wearing an apron that has 'Kiss The Chef' written across the front. He's carrying a tray with their two breakfasts. "Didn't wanna watch a film? Guess you can see I'm such a nerrrd. I gotta few more that aren't here currently, too, that I loaned out to friends." He sets the tray on the coffee table before the couch. "That collection there is quite the investment, I might add. Finding *working* examples is not always easy... Took me several months to find copies of 'The Princess Bride' and 'Arsenic and Old Lace.'"

Richard is roused from his shallow-as-a-puddle slumber first by the smell, then by the sound of approaching food. He raises his head just in time to spot his host's arrival through the doorway. "I'm not sure I could handle anything like that. Big flickering screen + hangover = worse hangover," he groans algebraically. As he leans forward to take his meal, he reads the script on the apron. "...Hell, I just might. Nerd or not, you're practically an angel right now," he comments, "unless this tastes like that drink you gave me. It was like V8, wasabi, and jizz all fell into a blender. At least it feels like it worked." He tries to set the tray down on his lap. That doesn't work out for obvious reasons. The tray gets perched on his massive, moderately malleable malness instead, its weight indenting the flesh below. "I can imagine. Between how people treated rentals and the nanites, there's probably not many discs left."

Bleu picks up his own plate, and digs in, but not before passing his partner a bottle of ketchup. "This is homemade..." Taking a sip of juice, he then adds, "Yeah, fortunately the Library has a working disk duplicating machine, so more copies can be made, but originals are extraordinarily rare. But, I'm a cinephile, so I consider the price worth it..."

Richard smiles and nods gratefully as he takes the bottle of ketchup. "How much of this went into that drink?" He asks, holding up the bottle before uncapping it. "Kidding," he clarifies, "but for real, you're lucky I had time to get that taste out of my mouth before we kissed. Blech." He nods again when the library is mentioned. "We're lucky to have those skunk girls. They're a resourceful bunch," he says, spreading a glob of ketchup over the eggy goodness. "They're the ones who helped me start shifting in the first place. I've still got that bootleg recursion device in-" his tray starts tilting on its perch. "Oh for... yes, Lissa is a nice lady. Simmer down or I start thinking about gross mutants."

Bleu snerks, as he observes Richard. "Secret family concoction, I'm afraid," he replies, half-jokingly. He munches on his omelette thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, I remember recursing. I eventually graduated to full mastery after awhile. Far more freeing than recursing, to be honest." He chuckles.

Richard seems to have his situation under control again. His lower pair of arms stabilize the breakfast tray just in case. "Tell me about it," he says after swallowing a mouthful of the fluffy goodness before him. "I bought most of the adept gear in installments - fuckin' Zephyr, broke the world then monopolized it." He chomps down on another bite of omelette at the end of that sentence, but holds his fork up to signal that he's not done talking. He swallows and says, "They've done good! This situation could be a *lot* worse. It's just... once burnt, twice shy, you know?" He starts cutting off another bit of omelette. "Sorry, I sidetracked myself. As I was gonna say, these arms are a prime example of that. Muslin Moth infection. Not even the kemo form of it. Nanite fine tuner was one of the best purchases I've ever made."

Bleu mmms, and nods. "I've yet to get one of those myself. I really ought to sometime. Regarding Zephyr... Well, I agree, 100%. I mean, they are trying, but it's kinda... Too little, too late." The human shrugs. "Anyway, how's your head now, Babe?"

Richard takes a sip of his OJ. "Absolutely worth it. You ever see a Shadow Dragon out there with Blade Elf arms, velociraptor legs, and a fuck-off spiky club tail, that's me on patrol. I'd show you if I was feeling up for it." In response to the question he scarfs down a couple more bites of omelette. "Little better, thanks. I'm gonna try some minor shifting now that I've got some calories in me." He puts the tray down on the coffee table and sits up straight on the couch. His lower set of arms, limp at his sides, slide into his body like clay being smoothed over. His remaining arms shoot up to his head. "NNNrgh. Fuck. Blood just rushed to my head."

Bleu frowns sharply. "Hold on a second. I might have some aspirin in my bathroom cabinet. Maybe that'll help you out." He starts to get up, setting his plate on the coffee table for the moment, and steps out of sight.

Richard calls out after Bleu. "I think it's a blood pressure thing. That might make it worse." He grits his teeth and waits for the 'brain freeze that didn't have the decency to wait for you to eat ice cream first' sensation to pass.

Bleu doesn't get the bottle, then. Comes back with an ice pack from the kitchen instead. "Blood pressure?" he asks. "It's nothing serious, I hope?" He hands the ice pack to the elf. "Maybe something cold will soothe the pain.”

Richard presses the cold pack against his forehead. "It's fine. I think. Just a theory." He shifts the pack around to the back of his neck to clear his line of sight. "My head started pounding hard right after the shift ended. Maybe the blood in my other arms didn't get deconstructed fast enough. I don't know," he sighs. His gaze drifts down to the largest part of his body mass that he could (and has been wanting to, for convenience's sake) shift away. "It's gonna be a bitch to get rid of this. You better behave, you big hunk of-" Hunk. That sets off a word association cascade that Richard would rather not take credit for. His dick twitches. "What did I *just* tell you to do?" He moves the ice pack menacingly towards his groin. The mere notion of such a chill brings the monster back under its master's control. He sighs again, picking up his breakfast tray and returning it to its perch. "Sorry for worrying you. What were we talking about, again?"

"Shifting, I believe," the boy responds, as he takes a seat again, picks up his plate, and returns to his meal. "Though if shifting gives you migraines, perhaps you'd best go to see a doctor about it... It sounds concerning."

Richard wedges the ice pack between the headrest of the couch and the back of his neck. He takes another gulp of the orange juice. "I think it's the hangover. I'm not normally this sensitive to… everything. I'd never been blackout drunk before." He sets the glass down and gets back to his omelette, "Definitely going to see *someone* if this keeps up."

Bleu mhmms, listening to his new friend whilst he finishes up his own omelette. "Well, you do that if it doesn't improve, and in the future *I'll* be more careful about how much booze I give you… There *will* be a future, right?"

Richard, with his own plate clean, raises his glass of juice high. "You bet there will." He swigs the rest of it in one go, then puts the tray full of empty dishes back on the coffee table. "Didn't you say something about keeping vodka as a drink of friendship last night? That's one of the snippets I'm sure I remember. We should have a toast."

Bleu looks over Richard for a few moments. "You sure you're feeling up to more alcohol?" He gets up, though, and steps over to his bar. "Perhaps just one glass, eh?" He smiles. "To change the topic, though, I'm somewhat surprised that you've not really remarked about my... Somewhat youthful appearance..." He grabs two glasses, and the bottle, and returns to the couch.

Richard braces himself on the coffee table and stands on his own two feet. Aside from some blinking, there's no sign of a debilitating headache from him. He even leaves the ice pack behind. "I've got to build up a tolerance if we're gonna have another night like the last one." When Bleu gets back, he walks the short distance to Bleu's side and picks up the glass. The sudden change of topic makes him look sidelong at the human. "...Are you Dionysus himself and you've just been fucking with me the whole time? I'm no expert on Greco-Roman mythology, but the thing about taking in strangers is usually the other way around." He goes wide eyed when he realizes what he just said. "Not that I'm complaining! You are a fantastic host."

Bleu laughs, as he pours vodka into Richard's glass. "Heh, no. Though it would be quite incredible to be a literal god. No, I just worship him. I am, however, only 19." He looks at the elf, to gauge his reaction, though the poorly hidden snicker seems to imply that there's more the satyr-turned- human isn't saying.

Richard looks aside and thinks for a moment. That math doesn't add up. He points an accusatory finger at the impish inebriator. "Bullshit. Either the nanites are keeping you young, magic is keeping you young, or you're a time traveler." The finger drops. "I hope it's the last one, because my mom's story about how I was born in March of 1990 sounds believable by comparison."

Bleu laughs out loud. "Nanites, I'm afraid, though with a god like Dionysus as my benefactor, it *could* be magic." He fills his own glass. "Nah, turned 31 last week. But the upside is that I'm always physically 19... forever."

Richard raises his glass. "Between the constant shifting and the nanites constantly patching me up, I'm stuck somewhere around 22. Guess they had to take a while to make up their mind about me. Wouldn't be the first time, *if* you believe my mother." He clears his throat. "But that's a story for another time with implications that I'd rather never think about. Here's to frien-" His otherwise jovial expression drops, though his glass is still held high. "...Does this mean you’re an underage drinker?"

Their glasses clink together before he can get an answer.

Next part: [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog]]

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog

2019-12-31T23:07:23Z

Slippery Richard:

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

With mentions but not appearances of
*[[Anbessa]]
*[[Luna]]
*[[Magnus]]
*[[Aava]]
*[[Miranai]]
*[[Kar-dragon]]

And the misuse of [[Fenris]]'s property

=Date=
Late November-early December 2019

Set a few weeks after [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog]]

=Log=
It's been a few weeks since that first drunken tryst that Richard had with a certain satyr. Everything except his memory tells him that it was some of the best fun he's had in months. That's not to say that he remembers it being a *bad* time. Rather, he doesn't remember a damn thing from after that second glass of whiskey. However, it left an imprint somewhere deep in his brain. A night with Bleu = a good time. They met up in the Zephyr lobby on this fine afternoon, and the bleating bachelor suggested a place of the Asian persuasion. Entering through the Teanuki Cafe's front doors to a sight of straw mats and robed servers, Richard asks, "Uh...this is the place, right? I just remembered that there's another one on the other side of town..."

Bleu smirks, leaning on Richard's arm. "Yes. Well, this one I think is the lesser known location. I've only been here a few times, myself. C'mon! Let's get some green tea, or maybe oolong... And then look for the hot springs. That's one of the main draws, after all!" The satyr leans over and gives Richard a peck on the cheek, as a Tanuki server makes their presence known from the direction of the kitchen.

Richard blushes hard at the caprine casanova's kiss on his mutated but mostly human cheek. "Bleu!" He whispers, "There are people here!" His eyes dart around, searching for a stronger excuse and definitely not lingering for a moment on one of the servers' stupendous scrotums, visible even through their exotic uniforms. Salvation makes itself evident as a sign from the heavens. Scratch that, as a literal sign hanging from one of the bright red archways. 'No sex or violence.' "We're their guests, for goodness sake!" He admonishes, halfheartedly, hooking a thumb towards the sign. Meanwhile, a tanuki has approached the odd couple.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Teanuki mountainside cafe. How can I help you?" They ask.

"Table for two, please," Richard says, "And those rules up there, you enforce them, right?"

The racoon-like restaurateur responds, "The second one is non-negotiable. The first one," their hand-paw spreads out and makes an back-and-forth balancing motion as they shrug, "It's before the dinner rush. Just take it to the onsen cave out back if you're going to make a mess. Your table is right this way."

So much for that. Richard pulls out the collar of his silken Promethean under-armor while a team of waiters set up a lap-height table and a pair of cushions.

Bleu grins as he makes his friend visibly redden and uncomfortable. "Don't *worry*, Babe... I can behave." He certainly can. "C'mon, let's sit, drink our tea, then we can go to the cave, alright?" He grips Richard's hand, and tugs him over to the table that is being set up. "I think this place may serve sushi, too, but don't quote me on that..." The satyr sits on his cushion, and grins. "Did I tell you before, Rich, that I find your modesty cute?"

Richard is glad that he's sticking to his hybrid humanoid form instead of that Serene Elf mutation he had last time. Chances are that he's going to be blushing from ear to ear before the evening's end. "I could go for an early dinner if they have it," he says, controlling his breathing a bit better at Bleu's reassurance. He seats himself cross-legged at one side of the table. Ceramic cups and saucers have already been placed for the pair, anticipating an order of some sort of soft drink. "There's a time and a place for that sort of thing. That's all." He claims. Nobody's buying it, not even Richard himself. "And there ought to be a particular *person* for it too, in my opinion." That rang a little bit truer.

A pair of menus are set out on the table, waiting for selections to be made.

Bleu picks up his menu, then looks up at the Tanuki. "Make mine Oolong, please." Then he peruses the menu. "Particular person, you say? Why Richard... Is that a proposal? On the second date?" He smirks, behind the menu so that the hybrid can't see. "Ah, yes, looks like they do serve sushi. I hear their wasabi is quite good..."

Richard starts leafing through his menu as well. "You said we had 'mind blowing' sex while I was blackout drunk that first time," he candidly claims. "Side note, I'd like the details on exactly what happened some time. Right now, though..."

Oh god, this is a big decision. Stall for time. Stall for time!

He folds his menu and offers it back to the waiter's waiting paws. "I'll have what he's having," he says to the server, "and a California roll with soy sauce and wasabi on the side." He leans toward the waiter. "Slice the roll, please. He'd like nothing more than to see me put anything that's that shape into my mouth." The waiter nods in understanding and begins to depart with at least one menu in hand. Richard returns his attention to the satyr who he's suitoring to.

You know what? Fuck it.

"Right now, I feel driven to make this a thing," he states. His voice didn't even waver that much! Nicely done. Oh. Oh, there are those creeping doubts again. Was beginning to wonder if they'd show up. "I don't know if I want this to be an 'I now pronounce you man and person of indefinite shape. You may kiss the whatever they currently are' thing," he stammers, "but hell yes. I'd love to watch movies and chill with you. I mean, you're one of the biggest swingers around town, right? I'm not going to ask you to give that up just for me."

Bleu makes the same order, though his roll remains uncut. Passing his menu to the tanuki, his former smirk has been replaced with a blushing grin. He slides his right hand across the table, to give Richard's hand a squeeze. "You'd really want to make it official? Is that why you asked me where I wanted to go the most tonight?" He really is blushing now. "Aw, Rich... You're so romantic! So I think you can guess my response..."

Richard shuffles onto his knees. "No, it's... I care what you think. I-I'm like this with everyone,
I swear. I asked one of Miranai's slutty maid daughters for permission, for fuck's sake. She had her
ass up in the air and I still-" he stutters to a stop.

That's skirting dangerously close to a rejection, Richie. What are you doing? You said yes. You *feel* like it should be yes. Pull it back.Come on, say something romantic!

He sighs, looks down, and picks up Bleu's hand with both of his own."It might be way too early in the relationship. I might not be 'the one,' but..."

...But what? Spit it out!

"I can't figure out how to say it," he deadpans, drained by his internal not-conflict. He drops Bleu's hand back to the table. Before he truly comprehends what he's doing, his other hand is around the back of Bleu's head and pulling the mythical man closer as he leans across the tiny table to meet him, his other hand still clasped by Bleu's on the tabletop, supporting their weight. Two pairs of lips meet.

A reasonable alternative to saying it. Points for creativity.

Bleu closes his eyes once their lips meet. In point of fact, he finds Richard's awkwardness to be endearing. So he lets his attraction show, with the kiss, and a squeeze to Richard's hand. An understanding. 'I love you.' The satyr has a lot to say, but he's now preoccupied with kissing this handsome man that he's fallen for.

Some of the tanuki staff blush beneath their fur. Some are quietly clapping or catcalling to the couple. One of the women (meaning she has breasts, although she’s still quite obviously a tanuki) whips out a scrapbook and retreats into the kitchen, scribbling frantically as she mutters something about 'shipping charts.' Her possibly cargo-related chattering serves as a prelude to an actual delivery. Richard had stopped moaning into the kiss moments ago. His eyes shot open, and he saw the approach of their server. Gently as he can manage, he breaks the oral embrace. "W-we ought to eat, first."

Something has shell-shocked the shapeshifter. What could it be?

Bleu is left feeling a little breathless, and he nods. "Yes, eat... But I want to argue that it is not too early in the relationship if we both want it." He's going to keep on topic, even while they eat. "If that kiss is any indication, then it's painfully obvious that we both want the same thing..."

Richard, staring into the middle distance, whispers "...something between us, anyway..." He shakes his head, and busies himself using chopsticks to spread tiny clumps of wasabi over his sliced sashimi. "Oh, dammit. This is going to sound so stupid," he groans, not taking his eyes off of the food. he pours a few drops of soy sauce into a tiny dipping dish. "I realized something right in the middle of that kiss."

Bleu bites into his spring roll. "Yeah? What's that? You want to shag me all night? You wanna be my hubby? You want matching tats on our shoulders?" He smirks a bit, likely making Richard squirm. "I mean, after tonight, it's an official thing, right? After that...kiss?"

Richard does squirm a bit at the teasing. "We already went over that. It's official, but not officially official. You know what I mean," he scoffs, "and you already have, like, two tattoos on you." He scarfs down a single slice of the Japanese rolled rice, and tries not to wince at the horseradish spice. That *is* good wasabi! He picks up his tea cup to wash down the flavor, but doesn't bring it to his lips yet. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's so monumentally stupid," he groans again. It's almost like it's so dumb that he can't bear not to share it.

Bleu leans forward, across the table. "What if *I* call it officially official? Also, I have three tattoos. You forgot the one on my penis, didn't you?" He giggles, then leans back on his cushion, calmly sipping his tea. "Anyway, you have to tell me. Mates don't keep secrets from each other, not even stupid ones. So tell me, please..."

"I'm fine with that, as long as it's not *so* official that I have to snub Joy," Richard says, brushing away the thought. "She's had eyes for me for months now, but I only ever seem to see her on Taco Tuesdays. Little pega-fox hybrid. Firecracker's daughter, if you don't recognize the name. And my eyes were shut at the time, so that tat's news to me." He decides against questioning whether Bleu means 'mates' in the Australian sense or in the conventional sense so he can finally release his ridiculous revelation upon the world. "Anyway, I didn't realize I was doing it at the time. That confession was lifted almost word for word from a Daft Punk song." He swigs his cup of oolong like it's the first thing he's had to drink in days, then sets the cup down defeatedly. "Fucking Magnus," he laughs in resignation, "I'm gonna blame him for that."

"Snub Joy?" Bleu scoffs. "My dear, have you seen how many lovers I have? This isn't an exclusive club..." He laughs, picks up a piece of sashimi, and plops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Daft Punk, huh? Good choice. You have very good taste, my love." He picks up his cup, takes a long sip, then sets it down again. "Blame Mag for what? Getting a new mate that loves and adores you?"

Richard fills another cup of tea, still chuckling to himself about the stupidity of his epiphany. "Blame him and *his* good taste in music for worming its way into me pouring my heart out to you. Gotta be subliminal messaging or something." He deftly plucks another piece of his meal from the plate using his chopsticks. A loud sigh escapes him, signaling the end of his giggling. On to more serious matters. "Nevermind. You're more than worth forgiving him for that. And yes, I have. Just wanted to hear you say you were fine with it. Would've felt inconsiderate otherwise."

Bleu sets his chopsticks down, and looks across at Richard. He's serious, too. "Well, then, I can say it now. You're wonderful, and I love you. And yes, when I say mates, I don't mean in the friend sense." He smiles. "And yes, Mag has a funny way of being a matchmaker, eh?"

Richard pops a piece of rolled rice and fish into his mouth. Then another. He swallows. "Love you too," he replies, licking a stray grain of rice from his lips, then puckering their moistened surface towards the satyr to blow a kiss. "Top 500," he adds, raising the teacup to his mouth for a sip. After slaking his thirst once more, he comments, "I'll throw a fit if Magnus doesn't have the keys to the city yet. It seems like he's always organizing *something* to get us all out and meeting each other."

Bleu blushes at Richard's words. His attraction to this man knows no bounds. "Hah, you're right. Though I wouldn't have quite pegged that I'd wind up your pretty boi waifu." The satyr smirks, and finishes off his spring roll. "I had a thought at first that you were the strong, brooding type. The Loner. I'm glad I was mistaken. Anyway..." He pops another piece of sushi in his mouth. "After we're done, we're going to the Cave, right?"

Richard eats the second-to-last piece of seaweed-rolled savory goodness. "Hell, I went out there thinking 'what would I least mind getting stuck as if we're stranded outside the bubble. Versatile, sort of normal, and comes with its own bow and arrows? Serene Elf it is,'" he muses. "Wasn't going for the 'loner' vibe so much as being pragmatic. I mean, yeah, I'm out on my own a lot but that's not a social choice so much as a part of my job." He scoops up the final fragment of fishy food, continuing, "If you want a loner, though, I can be that. Spent more hours than I'm proud of talking to myself in the mirror back in the human enclave." With a gulp, he finally clears his plate. "They told me I could be anything when I grew up. Now I am anything."

Over by the sushi bar, a grumpy old tanuki clears his throat. He nudges a potted bamboo plant with his foot, which molds itself into the shape of yet another tanuki.

"Except inanimate objects, right. I'll take the check for both of us, please." Richard amends. "That reminds me, did Fenris end up wearing a lampshade that night? He was already partway to being a decorative lamp..."

Bleu drains his teacup, and gobbles up his final piece of fish. Pushing his empty plate back, he grins at Richard. "You make an incredibly sexy serene elf, too... But, again, I'm quite biased toward humans and humanoids. Hell, I'm half human myself." He looks over at the Tanuki, then laughs. "Nah, he paused at decorative vase, I'm afraid, but he earned brownie points from me for bearing a motif of satyrs like me..."

The waiter from earlier approaches, having dealt with a few customers who have just started to trickle in with the ending of the day. Between the server's hands, they have the bill in the form of a nanite-formed hologram. Richard transfers some freecred to it, plus a decent gratuity. "It is one of my favorite forms. Comes with a wardrobe for every occasion, too." He drains his own cup, then resumes speaking, "Oh! Remind me to show you what I wore to Mags' Haloween Party later." he stands up, offering his hand to the still-seated satyr. "We were going to go to the cave. There's a gazebo on the way there. We could stop and watch the sunset, or go straight to the hot springs."

Bleu grips Richard's hand, and smiles, leaning against the hybrid once standing on his own two hooves again. "I think watching the sunset with you would be the most romantic thing, ever... Lead me away, dear Knight." He leans against Richard's side, giddy as a schoolgirl.

"The only dragon I recall slaying is that lady who lives near the path to New Dawn," Richard quips, "But if you insist..." The side Bleu is leaning on rapidly grows rigid, bulging with sourceless bulk that only nanites could muster. Richard puts a metallic (?!) thumb through a loop on his Promethean armor. In a single, smooth motion, he withdraws a strap and the upper portion of his attire falls away to reveal... another suit of armor underneath. Polished silver plates shift and settle over an organic green undersuit of living leaves.

Similarly, he whips off his belt. Below the waist, greaves and greenery also form. He kneels, gathering the garments in the crook of his elbow. Then, (ab)using his form's height advantage of nearly two feet on the twinky goat-man, he grunts, grabbing Bleu in his gauntlets for a gallant bridal carry. The suit of literal shining armor feels warm, as if it was out in the sun on a pleasant day. In reality, it's at Richard's body temperature. "I hope you memorized where that fastener is," he teases, tromping his way across the oriental garden towards the gazebo.

Bleu's eyes go wide at his mate's sudden change in appearance. "My oh my! You just know how to be roman-ohhh!" He bleats giddily when Richard hoists him up into the bridal carry. Even more romantic. Where has this knight in shining armor been all his life? "Seriously, Rich... You're amazingly romantic..." He sighs happily, as they clomp over to the gazebo.

Steel-shod footfalls upon stepping stones make the couple's journey across the garden hard to ignore. No doubt there's a tanuki or two tucked in with the tiger lilies. The orange of lily petals and yellow of sunflowers gleam off of Richard's spotless breastplate, joined by the refractions of the sun setting over the Pacific ocean far in the distance. Nearer is the city of Fairhaven itself, landmarks such as Zephyr tower, Silver Fangs Radio, and the Red Court jut above the horizon. Look closely, and you may see mutant and machine alike flitting through the air between them like the pulsing lifeblood of the city.

"Please. You make it easy for me," Richard scoffs at the man in his arms, "I'd wager your alcohol tolerance comes at the expense of being *just* a bit buzzed all the time."

Bleu has to give some thought to that assertion for several moments. "You know... You might have a point. I probably *am* perpetually buzzed. Whatevs, it's awesome." He giggles, looking off to the west, admiring the view. "My, look at that sight... Breathtaking, eh?"

Richard nods along to Bleu's assertion. "It sure sounds like it'd be fun." He follows the easy flirt's eyes towards the city. True to his claim, it takes Richard's breath away. Thankfully we've established that he doesn't actually need it. He stops in his tracks, the momentum of his armor and passenger keeping him going a step further than he intended. He'd question this cafe's business model if they're not selling postcards of this view. "...Damn," he finally manages to say, "which of your gods do we thank for this?"

By now, they're nearly halfway across the garden, at the T intersection where they could either continue towards the steamy caves, stop by the garden's mountainside railing, or detour to the gazebo as they originally intended.

Bleu relaxes his head against Richard's breastplate. "Well, if we're going Greco-Roman, possibly Fauna, the goddess of nature..." He chuckles. "You're one of the first people who doesn't seem to just humor me in my unconventional beliefs... I appreciate that."

Richard cranes his head down to plant a kiss on Bleu's forehead. "I care what you think," he reassures, "and besides, Artemis has a temple just uphill from the cafe. Who am I to question any of it when there's a slice of divinity right here, dear?" Contented sighing escapes him as he drinks in the vista. "This is too perfect," he wistfully announces. His motion resumes, the loping gait of this champion of nothing in particular gently rocking the blessed gift he's carrying. "We're going to the gazebo. I want to kiss you until you drag me away to those hot springs."

Bleu sighs at the kiss. This is heavenly. "Mmm, you make a good point... Still..." He looks up at Richard. "It is, isn't it? And this has been the perfect day, no less." His little tail is flitting quite excitedly by now. "And I'll quite happily kiss you for as long as you want."

The boards of the bridge to the gazebo bear no protest to the crossing of both the armored Adonis (cool your jets, Artemis, I didn't mean it literally) and his charge, a testament to the fine Japanese-style carpentry that composes the cafe. Trickling water and the occasional splash of an excited koi are the only other sounds. They are alone here, save for a conspicuously placed statue of a tanuki man. He sits in a meditating posture, his burgeoning belly and ballsack beneath it hanging over his legs. He has his eyes closed, and a smile on his snout speaks to wisdom unbound by worry.

Richard kneels, setting Bleu back upon his hooves. At his full height, Bleu is only a couple of heads taller than the man who carried him. As Richard rises from his knees, however, his height begins to align more with his partner's. They stand nearly eye to eye. You'd need a bubble level to tell which one of them is taller, now. "Kiss me."

Bleu absolutely doesn't have to be asked twice. The satyr throws his arms around this man whom he's fallen passionately in love with, practically melting against Richard's body, and their lips meet. It's practically electric. And the serene surroundings do much to cultivate Bleu's feelings for his handsome knight. They'll kiss, all the while watched knowingly by that statue, as if it's in on some great cosmic plan to draw the two lovers together…

And who knows? Maybe it is. One of them claims to have met a god in the flesh. Richard wishes he could press himself against his lover, to feel that heavenly body, slim and boyish, but undoubtedly a man. It takes little more effort for Richard to will away the protective vestments of this mutation than it does to drop the Promethean armor in the crook of his elbow. The pair of them embrace bodily, wordlessly speaking their desire to each other with dancing tongues. Bleu would feel the only thing between him and Richard's flawless, hairless flesh now is a simple loincloth.

Once he feels that hard outer shell melt away, Bleu presses as close as possible, arms fully encircling the handsome, smooth, flawless man. Naught but a loincloth between them. What had started as a teasing flirtation followed by a drunken one-night-stand was blossoming into something far more, and the satyr honestly couldn't be happier in this moment. Time almost seems to stop, as cliched as that is, but who's complaining? Richard can certainly feel Bleu's erection, which he couldn't less about hiding.

Richard leans in to his lover, although he presses his weight forwards to keep their hips apart. It's a bit of an awkward A-frame arrangement, but it sends a message. His wandering hands, one of them running up into the half-animalistic hairs on Bleu's chest, pausing with a single finger upon the satyr's sternum. Patience, dear. That's not to say Richard isn't feeling frisky himself. His mind forms a devious idea. No, *several* devious ideas to accompany his body's just-beginning reaction to drinking in the feel, the smell, the sound of being so near to someone so close. Let's play roulette.

The lips on Bleu's own begin to feel dry. Chapped. Like they belong to someone who's been out in the wintry forest for days. That roughness spreads into a tickling upon Bleu's upper lip, unmistakably the fuzz of closely-clustered hairs, though his partner's nose still feels hairless and human as it brushes against his own. Slightly different in shape, but still human. Richard's moaning deepens into a rugged growl, and the taste of his tongue has a hint of earthy sweetness... maple syrup, perhaps? That taste and roughness are beginning to fade, however, and something else is taking their place.

Richard still holds him close, his other hand snaked under Bleu's arm and behind his head. He *could* stop Richard here, but what's the next one going to be?

Bleu knows better than to rush it, despite his growing lust and arousal. Waiting is sweeter. He keeps his eyes closed, sensing that his mate wants this change to be a surprise. He won't stop Richard. No, he'll kiss the changing man, until the latter gives him a sign that it's okay to look…

Richard's kiss morphs fluidly into another, his lips regaining some of their moisture as they thin. His voice rises but remains masculine, gaining a faint breathiness to its tone. Bleu's tongue begins to overpower his lover's with ease, though it darts around his just as easily as it too loses girth, tickling the inside of the goat-man's gullet in flicking strokes. On the periphery, Bleu can feel the edges of his tongue brush against expanding canine teeth. They lengthen almost to the point of completely overlapping their counterparts on Richard's lower jaw, but taper to pencil-tip points. As their formation finishes, a hint of sourness and salt fills their mouths. Even that only lasts for a split second as the changes continue.

Richard continues to hold Bleu's lips against his own, cradling his lover with a hand at the back of his head, where the slope of the skull meets the muscle of the neck.

Okay, now his curiousity's getting the better of him. Those sharpened canines are too unusual to ignore. Bleu opens his eyes, to see what shape his lover has taken…

Richard is... outwardly human and slightly effeminate. Nothing has changed from the neck downward. Noticing a break in the rhythym of the kiss, he pulls away. His form settles as he stops his shifting for now. Until he opens his mouth, the most uncanny features about him are the vertical slit pupils of his eyes. "Ssampler platter'ss not done yet, dearest," he lisps, a forked tongue flashing over his teeth. It remains out and wiggles for a scant moment as he inhales. "Unlesss you've already picked your dessert." If no protest is given, he'll move in and resume the lip-locked tongue tango.

Bleu finds the change to be quite attractive, but by this point his attraction to Richard is beyond words. He smiles, and nods. "We'll get to dessert eventually," he replies, quite happy with savoring over the rest of the meal first. No protest comes from the satyr at all as the pair's lips meet once again.

Richard threads that thin tongue between Bleu's lips and resumes exactly where it left off. His tongue swells back to more normal proportions as it twirls alongside Bleu's own. He takes a sharp breath through his nose and moans once more, luxuriating in the feel of the change nearly as much as his lover's embrace. Yet again, Bleu feels the feather-light touch of facial hair. This time, it's thinner than it had been, both in depth and area covered, forming naught but a narrow strip around Richard's hot lips. They do seem to radiate just a minute amount of heat, and as Bleu snogs the shapeshifter, he could swear he tastes a note of exotic spices...

This one also arouses Bleu's curiosity (among other things). His eyes open once again, most intrigued by that exotic taste of spices. What could this be?

Richard backs away once more. His features are high and defined, mostly human but unnatural, otherworldly and magical. Not least of which are his eyes, which glow golden from within. His eyebrows are immaculately groomed arches of black hair. He is bald above that point save for a top-knot ponytail, rising like a minaret in the desert. A dashing goatee which can't be wider than a dozen hairs at any point frames his lips, which are drawn tight in a stern expression.

"You have awoken Rashad, genie of the lamp," he announces both softly and imperiously, speaking with a slightly nasal accent. His serious facade collapses into a smirk not even a second after he finishes speaking. He resumes, "I can also do I Dream of Jeannie, and I think my Robin Williams impression is passable. Your wish is my command." He pauses, then leans back in to Bleu. "I'm sure you wish to kiss me again. That one is a freebie."

Bleu isn't so sure in this moment. "A genie, eh? You've already granted most of my wishes so far. Maybe I should kiss, just one more time, though..." And that he does, though he doesn't close his eyes... Not yet. Perhaps he wants an extra moment to decide. Or maybe he wants to abuse that last 'wish'...

Richard lets his luminous eyes lid over, simply enjoying the moment and the opportunity to tease this horned and horny fellow. He is at their beck and call. They need only signal their intent, and he will comply to the best of his ability. Guessing that free wish was an easy one. The taste of turmeric and tikka masala plays ever so subtly across Bleu's tongue as 'Rashad's' does much the same.

Bleu has made his decision, yes. This form, so exotic and alluring. He likes it. "Mmmph... Th-this one," he manages to moan out, before he's too caught up in the kissing to say anything else. In this moment he's practically worshipping the man in his arms. He wants nothing more than to be with Richard forever.

Richard's whole body flushes with the same heat as his lips. He pulls a quarter of an inch away from the kiss to whisper, "As you wish, master," before kissing Bleu on the cheek... then the jaw, and then several times down the neck as his transformation builds momentum. His shoulders widen and swell with muscle, biceps ballooning, forearms reforming, and pectorals pushing outwards. A dull red color rolls over his skin from head to toe, bringing with it yet another pulse of heat. His entire body feels smooth and warm, practically for a wet sheen to be placed upon it. "You like this sensation, don't you, master?" He breathes. His kissing trails further down, onto the shoulder, over the breast. He plants one final kiss over Bleu's heart, then stands and gazes deep into the eyes of the satyr, one hand draped across each of his shoulders. "The warmth," he says, "the strength and gentleness."

He squeezes firmly enough to hold but not so hard as to restrain. His grip loosens, and begins to drag lovingly down the length of Bleu's arms as Rashad takes a single step backwards. "My fingers dance across your skin as softly as the finest grains of sun-baked desert sand, warmest of all, barely upon the cusp of scalding, but you know they will never cause you pain." He takes one more step, letting Bleu's fingers pass through his own. Now past arms' reach, the djinn crosses his
arms over his swollen pecs. A pair of solid gold rings encircle his nipples, and as his arms move, several seamless gold bangles form at each of his wrists. "What would you have me d-"

He puts a finger up, jangling his bangles with sudden motion. "Actually, one question first," he says, dropping the act entirely. That finger points down past his sculpted abdominals, "I can do poofy pants or like... that wisp of smoke thing for my legs. Do you have a preference?"

Bleu finds himself leaning closer to the djinn, though held firm, yet gently, by the shoulders. As Richard's touch drags down his arms, and his goat-like ears perk to his lover's warm and florid descriptions, he nods, and sighs pleasantly. He knows exactly what he wants Richard to do, but that interrupting question drags the satyr back to reality. "O-oh... Pants, definitely. I like your strong legs..."

Richard crosses his arms again. "It has been decreed," he announces, "I shall wear the poofy pants." At the end of that sentence, the uppermost part of his loincloth changes to a soft, shining cloth
like those found at the far end of the Silk Road. It wraps around his waist as a sash. The rest of the cloth changes as well, encasing his hips before draping down either leg. At their ends, they cinch down upon his ankles. More of the material manifests around his feet, forming a pair of pointed shoes. He stands silently at attention (both euphemistically and otherwise), awaiting his next command.

Bleu claps his hands. Yes, indeed, he likes this. Everything about it. "Ah, well. So... First off, how many wishes have I got, hmm? Traditionally there's only three, but I figure we're probably dispensing with that tradition, right?" He rubs his chin, and steps closer to his lover, running his hand over Richard's bare chest. "On the other hand, my first command might be to fuck me senseless, but sometimes the tease is just as much fun as the end result..."

Rashad stands motionless, save for a twitch of the loins at the hand caressing the beef steak's worth of meat that serves as his pec. "You are limihhh~" He says, the twitch migrating to his face. "Nnf, excuse me-" The nomads camped out on his crotch must be leaving, because the tent there abruptly ceases to exist. It's clear that the main tentpole is gone, and a shift in the wind makes it evident that the site is now entirely barren. He bends over forwards, hands on his knees, and breathes heavily.

"Haah. Hoo. I'm okay. Holy shit. Whew..." He looks over to his no doubt confused master/lover. "No underpants. Silk was..." he breathes heavily, then heaves himself upright again. A fist comes up to his mouth. He clears his throat into it. "Oh man. Sorry about that. I could *not* focus. No way in hell I would've made it over to the hot springs. As I was saying-" He straightens up fully, crossing his arms and fixing his glowing eyes upon Bleu's own.

"You are limited only by what you can imagine. I will grant any wish, and any number of wishes, save for those that seek to take life or restore it to the dead. Make your decision, and I shall make it so."

Bleu gives some thought to his lover's words. "Any wish, save raising the dead. Heh, really old school there." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Well... I want a nice bed, four-poster, with silk sheets, and a satin comforter... Baby blue in color." His description is oddly specific.

Rashad nods. "So it shall be." He waves his hand out towards the courtyard. "I apologize. I could not safely put it closer. If you inspect it, you will find that the sheets are of high thread count. Freshly woven, never washed nor stained before. The bed itself is made of acacia wood, carved and inlaid with patterns resembling grape vines. I assume you desired pillows as well. A multitude of fine feather-down pillows in many shapes and sizes are at the head of the mattress, stacked against the headboard in pillow cases of matching satin and silk."

Bleu claps his hands and grins, then rushes over the bed and hops onto it. "Oooh, it's nice and soft. And baby blue! Just perfect!" He loses himself with hugging some pillows for a few minutes. "Oh, now my second wish, ummm... Well... Yes, how 'bout some romantic music. You know... Sultry, seductive..."

Following his master up to the bedside, the genie nods once more. "Yes, master." He raises a hand beside himself, angled perfectly at 90 degrees at the shoulder, and again at the elbow. Movement seems to surge through his muscles, from the shoulders, through the biceps and triceps, passing through the forearm into his hand. He snaps his fingers once. "From this point, you shall be able to hear music clearly and at whatever volume you subconsciously prefer. It is currently that of a live jazz band performing a medley of music which matches your description." His arm lowers in a single fluid motion, joining the other across his chest. He stoically turns his head to the invisible spot in space. "I believe this is 'Careless Whisper,' performed as an instrumental interpretation." Rashad returns his luminous gaze to the pillow-snuggling satyr. "Is there anything else you desire?"

Bleu hrmms. "Can you hear the music, or just me? I want it to get us *both* in the mood..." He looks up at the sky. "I want you to feed me chocolate, as suggestively as possible. Right here on the bed,
beside me. Then I want a belly rub, followed by some leg rubbing. You know, before we get to the *hot stuff*..."

The djinn lets slip the barest hint of a smile. "Loudly and clearly, master." He seats himself with one leg draped over the edge of the bed and his other bent, sitting half cross-legged on the edge of the bed. "I have in my hand a bar gourmet Belgian chocolate. Close your eyes and I shall lay it on your tongue." Should Bleu comply, Rashad would tenderly place a pinch upon his master's tongue. "If you will permit my opinion, I prefer to have such a delicacy last as long as it can. I recommend you allow each morsel to melt upon your tastebuds, to have every particle to impart its sweetness to you." Again. He leaves his thumb inside the man's mouth longer than strictly necessary. "Feel it melt upon your palate. You hardly even need swallow. Let your own body do the work. Allow me to cater to you." One more. Larger this time. Rashad's fingers are smeared with chocolate that has softened in his heated grip. He leaves his fingers in Bleu's mouth, ensuring none of the sweet is wasted. "Heat. Such a simple thing. You make it without effort, as I grant these wishes without effort." A larger piece still, though Bleu feels this one hanging just at the edge of his lips...

Bleu closes his eyes readily, and tries eat that piece, only to find his lover's fingers in his mouth, letting the sinfully delicious chocolate melt slowly against his tongue. He could get used to this treatment. On the introduction of the second piece, he almost tries to lean up to grasp it with his lips, but refrains, allowing the djinn to hold it as he pleases, apparently teasing the goatman in some respects.

There's a deep "Hmmm" from the musclebound magician. He allows the sugary sweet to fall into the goatman's mouth. "You are a man of taste. This treat is good, but it is plain. You desire something more" Rashad muses, "and I shall provide." There is a momentary pause before he says, "You need not hesitate. Take it from me." Odd. He sounded like he was getting closer as he said that. Nonetheless, Bleu feels the warmth of Rashad's body closing in, and another fragment of the cocoa conjuration at the edge of his lips. In fact, that warmth is *very* close.

Bleu keeps his eyes closed, wanting to keep the surprise complete. He can feel the warmth, has a faint idea, but not conclusive, what it might be. He leans in, takes that bite, and murrrrs.

Once the bait is taken, Rashad moves in. His lips meet his lover's. The chocolate is shared between two mouths, tossed between two tongues. The flavor of cardamom and caraway blends with cocoa as the candy breaks down, melted by the Arabian heat of Rashad's form and the tamer temperatures of the satyr beneath him. That stream of sugar and spice flows naturally down Bleu's throat as the kiss continues.

Bleu mmms, pressing eagerly against Rashad's lips. Quite heavenly. Such exotic flavors, mixed together. Almost intoxicating. The satyr wants... More. It's impossible not to. Rashad is everything he could want, and then some.

Boy, this satyr is eager! Rashad can tell from the thrashing of the tongue in his mouth that Bleu is begging for it. That dunk in the hot tub last time didn't give as much feedback as this closed-eyes kissing session did. All right... what can we do to really rile this Greco-Roman Romeo up? He liked that stand and carry thing back when Richard was playing off of that knight comment. Bleu's just under five feet tall most of the time. This beefcake body is just begging for a boost out of being four-foot-something to cater to what Rashad hopes is one of Bleu's fantasies. The first things Bleu would notice are that Rashad's tongue is pushing even deeper into his mouth. His plush lips feel like they're swelling, and that delightful spice in his saliva is stronger, though not hotter in flavor. Pulling away from the kiss, Rashad, now two feet taller than he had been with proportions to match, tears a chunk from the chocolate bar using only his teeth and moves back in to make out some more.

Bleu is more than eager. It's taking all his willpower to keep his considerable libido in check and not to just grab his lover and shove the other man onto the and fucking him madly right there. Fortunately, satyrs actually *do* have considerable self-control when they need to. Seeing that the djinn has grown, he murrrs, smiling to himself when Rashad leans in with another piece of chocolate. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he murmurs, before pressing into that kiss, savoring the chocolate once more.

Rashad's tongue, now enlarged along with his entire body, dominates the kiss completely. If he's beefy, his tongue is the steak. Slathered in spice and slick with saliva, it tosses about the tab of chocolate like it were a TicTac, but the titan is anything but dominant over his master's mouth. The satyr is the one steering the kiss. Even so, the taller and stronger of the two tosses his lover on top of himself, rolling on the sheets so the satyr lands atop him without breaking the kiss.

Bleu is far too caught up in the kiss to really protest or react when his mate suddenly rolls over on the bed, goatman now on top, where he looks so much smaller than the djinn. Rashad is not far off the mark, though... Bleu does enjoy these size differences...

Now in a more submissive position where he serves somewhat as the satyr gets even more oral affection. He can smell that the goatman's getting juicy down there. Hm. That reminds him that he's currently... unequipped, due to a silken sensitivity issue. Thankfully, he no longer has to support his bulk on the bed. A muscular arm snakes its way down to his lover's labia, caressing his sheath and sack on the way there. One of his heated fingertips finds its way into the slick tunnel, taking full advantage of his enhanced reach to pull Bleu close.

Bleu is still utterly engrossed in the passionate chocolate kiss, so he isn't aware when Rashad's hand sneaks its way toward the satyr's plump, wet folds, but he certainly notices when the djinn strokes over his sheath, and his sack, too, but his biggest reaction comes when his lover's finger presses right into his pussy, Bleu letting out a pleasured bleat.

Yes... he's liking this. Them's the happy goat noises. Rashad releases the candy bar from his grasp in favor of something sweeter. His now-freed hand rises to roam over the shorter man's back, searing Saharan heat suffusing into the satyr's muscles and spine, but true to Rashad's earlier word, the sensation is anything but painful. It's like a hot stone massage from the giant genie's hands.

Bleu oohs, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he finds both his plump folds being toyed with, and the most amazing feeling of warmth and soothing heat spreading into his back and helping to loosen and relax tense muscles. It feels truly incredible, heavenly, in fact. And there are, of course, far more of those happy goat noises to follow, murring bleats that he can't *not* make, because he *has* to express his pleasure somehow.

Like putty. That's the only way to describe it. He has Bleu exactly where he wants to be. Using a massive, muscular man's terrific torso as a body-pillow while his lover is knuckle-deep inside of him. Rashad feels a sense of accomplishment, knowing he's serving his master's wishes so wel- haaang on, no need to let the nanites tell him what to think. Just a role-play. A damn hot one. That pride is warranted even without nanites nudging his mind in that direction. Rashad's single finger inside that slick tunnel is joined by a second. His wrist swivels slowly, sliding the fingers in and out. They flex and fidget, their thaumaturgical owner gauging by the sounds of the groaning goatman whether he's close to a G-spot as his thumb slides over the clit at the front of that slit for good measure. Rashad breaks the kiss long enough to let Bleu breathe, saying, "Allow me to serve you, master," before pucking up again to help bring Bleu even closer to bliss.

Bleu certainly enjoys being served, if it feels this good. Melting back into that new kiss, after his brief breather, his bleating groans start up once again, getting louder and more intense every time his lover's fingers his one of those fabled g-spots. And every time that *does* happen, the satyr's mind goes blank for as long as the spot is being teased, his whole body slumping a little more more like a big ol' ragdoll. He hasn't got a pussy fingering this good in quite awhile. In fact, Bleu can't even remember the last time.

Aaaaand bingo! There they are. Rashad's sexual pseudo-sonar system finds its mark. He'll tell Bleu it's genie's intuition if he asks... if he's coherent enough to even have that question. Pride turns to envy. His partner is having a grand old time. The sights and sounds are starting to get Rashad a bit randy, and he doesn't even have the parts to participate in this pleasure. Envy turns to shame. Rashad's face flushes hot when he realizes that this selfish impulse goes against his own desires, against his own choices. There will always be another time. He was fine with that underwater BJ back at the bachelor pad, and something tells him that he's been in the same position as the one he's got Bleu in right now. Shame gives way to resolve. Rashad doesn't know how. He doesn't even know *if.* He simply feels that at some point, this man has brought him to the heights of pleasure. He'll be damn sure before this evening's over that Bleu will get to go there too. Rolling even further, onto his side, he sends the satyr partly off of him and onto the sheets. With gravity no longer pressing the pair together, Rashad ceases his massage and uses the separation to slide his hand between them, starting to stroke Bleu's stiff, unsheathed shaft.

Bleu finds himself being shifted again, down onto the soft satin sheets, though he's a bit too insensate with pleasure to fully notice. He does notice, however, when his lover's hand comes to stroke his perpetually erect equinoid rod, and emits another bleating moan accordingly. 'Yesss, that's good,' he thinks, while his cock twitches and throbs to Rashad's touch, musky, alcoholic pre pooling up from the cumslit to splatter across his still-round belly and chest.

And Bleu's bell-end is already lubed for his pleasure. This is... wait, why does it smell fermented? Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. Rashad moans for his master's benefit
while the kiss goes on. Down below, his large, heated hand rises up that stiff shaft, brushing over the medial ring and palming its broad head. It's slick up top, but as Rashad slathers the slickening
liquid back down Bleu's dong, he begins to run low on natural lubricant. This is a good start, but from the feel of it, the faun-like mutant is set to go off sometime soon. Even with his more passive approach to the kiss, Bleu's tongue feels like it's not doing much conscious movement. Working with what he has to work the master's wang, Rashad switches hands, plastering the penis with pussyjuice as he resumes his pistoning of the pleasure canal. Much better. With a firm grip like the hot tongs of a Damascus blacksmith, Rashad pumps the bellows of Bleu's balls by basting his manhood with muff fluid in two strokes and then continuing his ministrations in time with his master's pounding heartbeat.

On a normal day, Bleu could wax on and on about the alcoholic content of his cum, and how it's a special gift from his god Dionysus, but at the moment his lips are firmly locked with those of his supremely handsome mate, and his mind is frankly overwhelmed by the great handjob he's getting, as Rashad spreads both the satyr's pre-cum and vaginal fluids all up and down his throbbing penis. Each pump of Bleu's balls also gets another loud bleat, followed by another splatter of pre, though one senses that full orgasm is not far behind.

The genie keeps pumping, plastering the prick with its own pre to keep the lubrication consistent. Down under that, his pussy-pistoning progresses into a three-fingered affair. The rapid breathy bleating (can we take a second to say how cute that is?) signals to Rashad that his master's orgasm is near, and he raises the tempo of his stroke to match, playing his privates like a musical instrument to accompany the sensual soundtrack that Rashad set up earlier. The chords on the medial ring, flare, clit, and G-spot seem to be crowd pleasers in this private performance.

Now that Rashad is thrusting three fingers into Bleu's hot, achingly needy pussy, the satyr's aforementioned cute happy sounds just keep getting more insistent. With the increased tempo, as well, Bleu finally dares to break the kiss, but that's only because he's throwing his head back to moan far louder than before, his balls tensed up to spray satyr seed all over himself and the genie's hands. "Oof. Damn..." is about all he can muster to say.

Boom goes the dynamite. Now that moan... that was musical. Sticky seed shoots skyward, splattering the satyr's stomach and staining the sheets. Some gets on Rashad's hands, but he ignores it until the spasms of jism abate, speeding up even further to keep pace with the spurts and then coming down gently, even delicately as his master's cumshot gradually ceases. When he finally begins to feel that throbbing rod lose its rigidity, he releases his grasp. Contented in his literal handiwork, he rolls onto his back and allows Bleu to do the same. The pleasured Pan-esque person would hear Rashad shuffling off to the side before another bite of Belgian chocolate is dangled above his face in cum-stained hands. "I take it that this way of enjoying chocolate was adequately sensual, master?"

Bleu takes a little bit to recover. He knows in the back of his mind that he'll be good for a round two before too long. But for now he's relaxing on the cum-stained sheets, looking up at the sky and giggling softly. "Mmm, you could certainly say that," he murmurs, before raising his head to reach the chocolate with his lips. Letting it melt on his tongue, he sighs, then immediately licks at Rashad's fingers, tasting his own cum.

"It pleases me to meet with your approval." His forced stoicism cracks into a smile, at least for a little while. It really is hard not to take pride in a job well done. In this case, a double handjob. Rashad offers his other hand and more chocolates, letting Bleu savor both of the sweet and salty flavors. With dinner in the near-distant past and Bleu having concluded the indulgence and intercourse, Rashad rises to a sitting position, then rolls to kneel between Bleu's legs. "Lay back and relax," he states, offering the remainder of the chocolate bar to his partner, "I believe you wished for a belly and leg massage to follow that treat, did you not?"

Bleu takes a bite of chocolate, and sighs happily again. He lays back, alright, and gets incredibly relaxed, still eating that chocolate and fully indulging his craving. "Yes, a belly massage would be great. Big as a fucking cow right now... You'll probably feel little Bleu Jr. kicking, too..." He giggles. "Course, I'm curious what your opinion on being a father is? You know, for the future..."

Rashad complies with the next part of the wish without hesitation. "As you wished. And the sushi earlier," he says, breaking character for candid commentary, "I don't know what it is about that specific type of food that makes it so filling." His heated hands move in wide, counter- rotating circles around Bleu's belly, barely pressing through his muscles and letting the warmth of- that's not a beer belly? All right then. "Oh. Congratulations! May I ask who the father is?" The caress of his crimson fingers becomes that much lighter near the navel of the masculine hermaphrodite, cautious of the new life within. Then comes the question. Those strong hands just barely quiver. Richard sighs. "I don't feel ready for that. Call me old fashioned, but I'd want to settle down before having a kid. Marry someone who knows me as well as I know myself, buy a plot of land, really focus on raising them responsibly instead of kicking yet another feral out into the world. Until then, I'm on a sterility patch." There's a pause which is the other type of pregnant while he continues rubbing the satyr's stomach. "God, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss *kids.* Honest to goodness innocent children, who take at least a dozen years to turn into horny monsters. Practically built the world around them all those years ago."

Bleu mmmms, his eyes lidded while the djinn works his magic, feeling that massaging warmth basically suffuses his core. "Umm, lemme see if I recall... I believe it's Kar's... Another of my lovers. Should be due any day now, to be honest... You'll, ah... Probably see me pregnant fairly often," he admits, his cheeks flushing. Listening to his lover's other words, though, makes Bleu open his eyes fully. "M-marry, did you say?" He wasn't aware there was anyone left who still did that. At least, anyone beside himself. "It's not old fashioned... It's terribly romantic," he breathes. "I get you, though... Every time I've had a child, I have that yearning to raise them, but... c'est la vie. Such is life now. I think that only happens in nanite bubbles, though, so for all we know..." He trails off.

Richard smiles softly at his Magnus meetup acquaintance turned one night stand partner turned lover, drinking in both his reaction and his words. "Ah, I think I've seen him around. Not sure I've met him though. Knowing what you do when I'm not looking, it really doesn't surprise me that you're getting knocked up rather often." Hold on, is it just the sunset, or... no, he IS blushing! "Really, is that the one thing you're bashful about? Whether or not they're getting raised by you, you made a life. That's something to be proud of, in my opinion." The light force of his fingers on flesh travels lower on Bleu's body, beginning to work his furred legs into the massage. "Yeah... I think Anbessa and Luna might be doing that, actually. Not sure if they have kids, but I'm pretty Luna's exclusively with him." He stops for a second, looking off to the side. "On second thought, maybe it's the idea of kids that I miss. I don't think I'm gonna trek across the continent to find out if it's possible to raise a child the normal- used to be normal way."

Bleu mmmms, stretching a little bit as Rashad's hands start to work down over his shaggy-furred hips and thighs. "W-well, yeah... A little bashful," he admits. "I've birthed or sired over 10 children, not all of whom I keep in contact with. But I love them all deeply." He fixes his gaze on the djinn. "You want to be someone's one and only, though, huh? Gods, I do understand that more than most. I didn't use to have so many mates..."

Richard nods, with a not quite smile or frown of an expression stretching his lips. Ten kids. "C'est la vie. Not much anyone can do to raise ten kids in a hands-on way. At least you didn't leave them like orphans." He works his way down further to the thighs, finding and easing out knots in the muscles. Something about this topic is making him tense. He's equipped for sore muscles. Sore subjects... well... "You don't have to go on if this is bringing up bad memories."

Bleu mmms, closing his eyes again. "Eh, it doesn't bring up bad memories anymore," he declares. "I'm over it... Just..." He strokes his goatee. "Wondering if our path might lead to… But I mean, we did practically just meet..." He's starting to backpedal now.

Richard guessed correctly, it seems. There's a history behind Bleu's statement. That can come out in its own due time. Richard will tend to more current matters for now. "We *did* practically just meet. We ought to keep going, make sure we're more than fuckbuddy friends before we commit." There's also another, less serious reservation Richard has about walking down the aisle with this lovely cinema nerd. "Besides,I think we've actually got a metric for whether we're taking it slow enough. Marrying another guy would be the #2 spot on that list I keep bringing up," he glibly offers, knuckles and fingertips digging into and working out the stiffness of the satyr's leg muscles.

Bleu mmms, bleating softly once again as Richard's fingertips dig into his muscles, working out those kinks. It's the best massage he's gotten in years. "Mmm, well, I think we're certainly past fuckbuddies," he murmurs, "But I think you've got a good idea there. Admittedly, I do have a tendancy to rush into things..." he laughs, and then sighs. "It's good to have one of us be the level-headed half of the pair."

Richard continues down to Bleu's calf muscles now taking one in both hands to knead like dough. Dough usually doesn't have a shin bone in it, but that analogy is going to have to do. He's kind of surprised that Bleu didn't ask what #1 was on that list. On further reflection, it might have been a mutual respect of privacy. "Yeah. Most of the time I am, I guess. If I'm being honest, it's probably a holdover from before I turned into a regenerating shapeshifting sex machine," he snorts, reflecting on how much he had to work himself up to get out of the human enclave and see Fairhaven. "I try to think things through to their results, but consequences are a lot gentler to me in-bubble. I suppose it would be nice to have something else keeping me grounded. Focusing on what matters."

Bleu nods, sighing to himself as Richard rubs his narrow calves, the satyr wiggling his ankles. "Oooh, yes, right there. Yeah, that feels good..." He's enjoying this entirely too much, alright. "See, I'm very much the opposite... I'm flighty, to the extreme. Rush headlong into relationships, and I suppose that's why I now have so many lovers. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I tend to fall hard and fast. I handwave it away as being polyamorous, which is true. But in the early days I had a 'husband', so to speak. Eh..." He shrugs. "That was a long time ago."

Richard looks away from his work on his lover's lower legs. Sounds like the symptoms of a broken heart. "Well... you don't have to handwave it away. You're a bachelor now. One of these days you're gonna find a favorite, whether or not it's me. Plenty of fish in the pond, and plenty of op-" Oh god dammit. "Aaand I'm repeating myself again. Point still stands. I think there's someone out there who's a great match for me, and I don't see why that wouldn't be true for you." He switches calves, attending to the other leg now. "Just take it slow. On an individual level, I mean. Anyone can be a one-night stand. It's the morning after that matters, and whether they call you up again later."

Bleu's voice betrays no such feelings... But his words do tell that story. The satyr has so many 'mates' because he's trying to replace his Deke, with varying degrees of success. Bleu shrugs, and sighs. "I mean, I do think I'd like having a one and only again, but I've done made so many connections with other truly wonderful people that this time around it would be more of an open marriage, as they say. But, this is a more relaxed time, so maybe that's no longer as big an issue as it once was." He finally smiles down at Richard. "You called me up again. I was really pleased when you did, too. I wasn't sure just *what* you remembered of our one night stand, you were so drunk, but clearly I must've made an impression, eh?"

Richard, now down to the... whatever the foot equivalent is on an ungulate, plies and prods at the ligaments just above Bleu's hooves. "Open marriages do seem to be the norm, when and where they exist. That example I gave earlier with Anbessa and Luna is... hell, Anbessa's job in the Zephyr directory is 'mercenary/breeder for hire,' and that's the closest to a conventional marriage that I'm aware of." Without much in the way of muscle down here and the hooves being a mite too hard for a massage, Richard settles for what he's done so far

"For what it's worth, *we* think you're a cute couple," one of the pillows says. Another, across the headboard from there hisses, "Shut up! You're ruining the- shit. Too late."

Bleu finds himself atop an improvised mattress of folded towels inside the spa section of the tea retreat. Cave walls stretch overhead in a wide arch around steaming pools of water, some only ankle-deep, some deep enough to swim in. "Well," Richard says, shrugging with his arms held wide, "you guys made a convincing bedspread while it lasted. Several other pillows tanukify and walk away. Others turn out to be balled up towels. "I'm surprised he was under for as long as he was. Seriously, guys, you were MVP props for that. You didn't have to- "

"We *wanted to,*" a tanuki claims, "now you two lovebirds spend some time in the onsens and unwind, yeah?"

"Okay," Richard starts, "so obviously most of that genie stuff was an illusion. You kinda glossed over when I looked at you as that snake form, and when I said my hands were warm... you just went with it."

Bleu had been just in the midst of enjoying himself as Richard worked the tendons and hocks above his hooves. That's a good spot, alright. He sighs, listening to his lover talk about marriage... Then his eyes shoot open and he sits up when that unexpected voice speaks just beside his left ear. "Gah! Oh... It's you guys!" Being called a cute couple makes him blush, however, even if the randy goatman is inclined to agree. But then he realizes he's no longer in the garden. "Where on earth... How did I get here?" He asks. "Was that all a dream?" But then Richard answers his question, though the satyr just kind of nods. "Wow... That felt SOOO real..."

Richard clears his throat. Thank fuck, he's taking it well. "For the record, I did NOT mean to do that. The only real part about that was the chocolate bar. I think. I don't know *exactly* what you saw, but I told you there was a bed out in the garden, and it seems like you believed it," Richard says, red faced as he has been for the last few minutes. His whole body is red, but we're focusing on his face. "'You are limited only by your imagination,'" he says, returning to the accent he put on for the duration of that unintentionally aided role play. His bangled hands drag over his face with a prolonged exhalation. "No harm done, I hope. I legit forgot that the lamias could do that."

Bleu hmmms, looking his lover up and down. A grin tugs at the edges of his lips. "Dude... That was quite relaxing. I feel more refreshed now than I did when we got here... Though I suppose perhaps I should be concerned what I talk about when I'm under hypnosis. I don't think I'd normally go on and on about marriage like that... Sorry, Love." He looks away for a moment. "Anyway... Shall we get a nice soaking in? It'll be the perfect finish for such a great massage..."

Semi-consensual sex and a hot tub? Where have I heard that before? "Yeah. Now *I* need to relax. Having that level of responsibility is goddamn harrowing. You would have believed literally whatever I told you," he confesses, standing off of the 'bed' with a huff. He turns around and points at Bleu. "The one thing I want you to believe from all that is that you've got plenty of time to find someone if you *are* thinking of settling down. Say what you want about how you were under the influence, but shit. that topic of conversation came from somewhere." He finds a steaming pool hewn out of the cave floor which has a ledge for sitting inside comfortably. "Need to change into something with less muscles to be full of tension..."

Bleu frowns slightly as Richard speaks. "Oh... Oh, I'm sorry." He stretches some, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "I'll take my time, though," he replies. "Even though I doubt it'll come to much." He shrugs, then starts to climb down into the pool with his friend.

Richard waves his hand at the apology. “Thanks, but... hell, correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you're fine with it. I should've been more careful with my shifting, that's all. Speaking of..." He starts scrolling through a list on his comms. He mutters to himself as he manipulates the menu. "Let's see... No, no, also no...Too fat...That one's got no muscles, but it's a literal skeleton... Hair's too long on that one... That one can't undress..." After a few more seconds of scrolling, he shrugs and says, "Heck, may as well not be solid." Having finally made up his mind, he...starts to become transparent. Over the course of a few seconds, his features all blur together and become transparent, not unlike a certain jello-snake scientist. Once fully jellied, Richard flows into the onsen and ends up in a seated position.

Bleu doesn'take his eyes off Richard as the other man turns to literal goo. Or gel. Take your pick. She lowers himself into the water, his little tail flitting, though as soon as he gets settled he changes as well, to that sexy aquatic form Richard knows so well. "So... You know, I think the tanuki here think we're dating or something... Are we?" He looks over at the gel with a smirk.

Richard glances over towards the mer-hermaphrodite as he settles quite literally upon the seat. "Pretty sure we are," he states, matter of factly. "I mean, I brought you out to dinner, I proposed we have a 'more than friends and possibly more than that' relationship, and we fucked. Passionately. If that's not a date, I'm not a gel. Or goo. I don't remember which one I went with." Looking down, he can see his own legs below the surface. "I think it's gel." He leans back against the rim of the hot spring, sighing in relaxation. This is hydrating as heck. He should do this more often. "And what a date it's been."

Bleu mhmms, resting his arms behind his head. "I thought as much." The mer giggles. "It has been a date to remember. I don't think I've had one so passionate and sexually satisfying in awhile." His tail swishes through the water. "The only question is, when are you gonna introduce me to the parents?"

Richard had been leaning back with his eyes shut. They snap open. Really should have been expecting that question to come up at some point. He blinks away the surprise and sits up straight. "Well... whenever, I suppose. I'd like to give them some advance notice, though." Let's see, how would this even work... "They're not coming out of the enclave any time soon. That's my impression, at least. We could, uh... no, you're kinda drippy. We might not be allowed in. They could meet us at the cordon, I guess?"

Bleu looks over at Richard with a grin. "I'm drippy? Is that an insult?" He laughs. "Anyway, if you're worried about me being a bad influence, I can go as a human... A *fully dressed* human. You've seen my human form. I look like a 19 year old..."

Richard shrugs his slimy shoulders. "No insult intended. You're always wet and ready, that's all. Might pose an issue to the 'keep your hands and bodily fluids to yourself' rule for visitors." Bleu's offer is very accomodating. There's one other hitch, however. "...Since fucking when have you owned pants?" Richard chuckles. "That's news to me!"

Bleu harrumps loudly. "You haven't looked in my closet. I actually do own clothes... I just never wear them. But I can make exceptions. I do think going as a human would probably be for the best, though. They may take issue with my apparent ag, but I don't know." He sighs, sinking a little more in the water. "I'm not as drippy when I'm human, also..."

Richard quite literally slides around the circumferance of the pool to Bleu's side. "Yeah, I haven't . I'm just messing with you. In all seriousness, I think my mom would be thrilled to meet someone who's been face to face with a god. She's a..." He pauses as he realizes he should probably explain in detail. "Well, she was born Jewish, then ended up as a Unitarian. Pretty much freestyle religion, if you've never heard of it. Pick and choose what you want to believe, and do your research on any religion that's interesting. She's more of a Buddhist than anything else right now, I think."

Bleu turns to look at Richard, mmming as the gel explains his mother's beliefs. "Eh, well... You think that's something… I was raised Protestant, and now I'm full blown Greco-Roman pagan, which is about the craziest shift imaginable." He laughs. "Not that I'm exactly fully practicing. I don't sacrifice bulls to Zeus or any of that shit." His tail swishes through the water again.

Richard raises a viscuous eyebrow at both of those claims. "Ain't that crazy. There's fuckin'... two or three other pantheons with representatives around here. The world is what's crazy. If someone told me that Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses were in a perpetually tied game of rock-paper-scissors somewhere, I'd consider that they might not be lying." He leans in on Bleu, sinking into his shoulder slightly. "With the world as it is, Zeus is probably too busy getting busy to care."

Bleu mmms, laying his head back against the side of the pool. "Mmm, never met Zeus, but you're probably right... As it is, though, Dionysus is my patron deity now... So let's pour one out for the party god, eh?" He has nothing to pour out at the moment, unfortunately. "Still, back on topic...I'll try my best not to embarrass you, Love..."

Richard sighs contentedly on Bleu's shoulder. Maybe this will go well after all. "They're pretty open minded. Just keep those pants you claim to have on and it should be fine. Be good and we can go to my place afterwards, and I'll help you out of 'em." Wait, did he already tell Bleu about- No, no he didn't! Duh. "Oh! Started renting a place in New Dawn. The rent at The Painted Gel is super cheap. It's got a nice, open setup, great view of the city..." he trails off.

Bleu smiles, resting against his gooey lover. "Don't worry... I know how to keep my clothes on." When Richard mentions having his own place, the mer grins. "Mmm, now I can't wait to see it... I suppose we'll start leaving toothbrushes at each other's apartment, huh?" His voice is lightly teasing.

Richard gooily grins at the idea of having regular company. "Sounds like a plan. Bring friends if you want. Plenty of room," he claims. Several seconds pass quietly as he contemplates... something. Something kinky, IF the geometry of it works out right. "That reminds me, what floor is your apartment on?"

Bleu looks over at Richard, his brow cocked. "It's on the roof," he replies, "Why do you ask? Something crazy in mind?"

The roof? Shit. So much for doing it at his place. "...Thinking of a sexy way to show you that Halloween costume. I *might* need a stepstool if I'm gonna pull that plan off at your place," Richard sighs. "Still think you'd like it. Just have to find somewhere else." One of his wandering hands flows behind Bleu and then back around, palming the further of the fish-person's funbags.

Bleu mmms, shifting some as Richard gives him a fondle. That's always nice. "I bet I would... Why do you show me at your place, hmm? I'll find it sexy, and then we'll bone. At this point, I think I'm safe in that prediction..." He smirks, and laughs.

Bleu tenses slightly as his nipple leaks milk thanks to Richard's teasing. Raising a hand to his neck he manipulates the odd flaps of flesh, exposing the bluish-colored, slightly oily-looking flesh within. "Gill slits. Both sides of my neck. Alas, this is my only water-breathing form... As an aside, these gills are crazy sensitive, and if you do it just right, you can just about cause me to orgasm by teasing them..." He blushes. "Anywho... Isn't the universe already our bitch?"

Richard massages the mer's mammary with his gel grabber. That little squirt of milk makes its way into his mitt, which is an odd sensation to say the least. Not unpleasant, but similar to taking a sip of warm sweetcream through a mouth that only existed for a microsecond. "Your gills?" The gel asks. "Well... now I'm getting another crazy idea. This is more of a bath than a jacuzzi. Let's see what I can do about that." The semi-solid shapeshifter's form starts to slump and lose its shape, flowing into a seat-like shape beneath and behind the mer-herm, draping across his shoulders above the surface of the water. "Miranai's slutty maid daughter seemed to like this. Mind giving me a second opinion?

Bleu isn't entirely aware of what Richard is doing at first. "Mmm, I like your crazy ideas," he murmurs, with his eyes closed, as the gel re-forms under and behind his body. "Well... I mean... Am I sitting on you? It feels pretty nice..."

Richard says, "Kind of. Don't worry, this is nothing *too* crazy. Just that I only had two hands to massage with when I was doing that genie thing. Now I don't need to bother with hands." The gooey gentleman conforms to the confused mer's body, wrapping around his torso like a belly-less one-piece swimsuit, albeit adapted for his baby bulge and broad aquatic tail. True to his word, the spa-warmed slime man starts a slick shiatsu session on the seated former satyr. Pulses of pressure rise in rapid repetition up the back muscles of the bathing sea-babe, and kneading waves wash over his shoulders. Just behind his shoulder, he would hear, "How's this?"

Bleu ohs, his eyelids fluttering as the gel gal flows around his body, murring happily as that shiatsu starts up. Making muscles the mer didn't even know he had loosen up and relax. "How's this?" he asks back, "It's great. Ooh... Right there, small of my back...Ohhhh..." He luxuriates in the sensations.

The still genderless gel goes for the spot specified at the base of Bleu's spine. Richard's... well, it would be his abs if he was still in a humanoid shape - push and prod at the strong swimming muscles that anchor Bleu's tail to his body. Though, Bleu can't see the goo's head, he soon feelsthe man's mushy lips brush the side of his neck and the gills gathered there.

Bleu's breath catches in his throat. There it is. That's it. Those tender, sensitive flaps. Bleu sighs, and he gently squirms in Richard's gooey embrace. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he whispers.

Richard's warm, humid breath rolls over those fishy flaps, followed swiftly by his taffy-like tongue teasing along the length of a lower slit. Tastes like tuna and tequila... "Mmm... Give me a ring on the comms whenever you want goo massage..." He mutters, shifting some of his mushy mass up to Bleu's neck to accompany the nuzzling. Tendrils of the translucent man roll over the rear of his neck in a comforting collar.

Bleu's head lolls back, and he shivers as Richard's tongue glides along his sensitive gill-slit. "Fuck, man... I'll give you a ring on the comms every damn day of the week... I'm stuck on you, I think." The mer grins toothily, as he feels his lover spread around his neck.

Richard pulls even more of himself off of Bleu's back to form a pillow under his partner's head. He looks down at himself. Most of the mass is up near Bleu's head and shoulders, with a single strand of slime extending to the area where the ass would be. It prods and plies at the mer-person's lower back. Meanwhile, two pseudopod-like hands are perched on his plump pectorals, gently hefting his breasts. Richard rubs the outside of the gills with the section of himself that's surrounding the back of Bleu's neck in a semi-circle. He withdraws portions of it to place his lips and tongue on the tender flesh underneath those flaps. "Stuck on *me*?" He quips. "Ironic..."

Now that's a nice pillow. Bleu was already comfortable, but now even more so. His tail swishes, slowly, as Richard continues to rub his lower back. "Ooof... Well, yes, I am *literally* stuck on you right now..." He grins, rolling his shoulders a little and then settling back comfortably. "Gotta ask... Do you prefer me with or without noticeable breasts?"

Richard hums thoughtfully, sending a shiver through his entire slimy self as his caresses continue. "Can't say I'm not a fan of a good set of tits," he states, "but hearing a man's voice along with them is a little confusing. Put 'em on whenever you feel like it." A brief flow of Richard's body twirls around the tips of Bleu's tits. "You're not thinking of getting rid of them *right now,* are you?"

Bleu shakes his head gently. "Mmm, no, don't worry. In point of fact, I actually can't individually influence my breast growth. I really should look into splashing out the cash for greater control of my nanites sometime..."

Richard hums once more. "'S worth it. Wish they were still doing that 'mako for surveys' program," he muses, still swirling slime around those supple breasts in addition to the light squeezes he's pressing onto the lower back and upper neck, "I heard Zephyr had to cut that part of their company. Too bad." Now that Bleu's head is fully settled back into that improvised pseudopod pillow, some of Richard's slime can creep around to the front of his fishy lower body. "Still have a little bit left over from that, if you're trying to ask for a Christmas gift."

Bleu opens his eyes, and hmmms. "Is that an offer, Lover Boy?" He grins, showing his pointed teeth again. "I mean, I wouldn't say no. It is rather shocking that I haven't bothered with pursuing the matter before now, though, considering how much I enjoy changing my shape at the drop of a hat." He sighs happily. "About Zephyr, though... They have been experiencing downsizes recently..."

Richard's head, which had been held above Bleu's shoulder, turns to meet those eyes. "Maybe it is," he teases. "I know I have fun mixing and matching." His eyes wander down to that grin. He blows out a whistle... or tries to. His partly liquified lips put forth a sputter at first before becoming the intended sound. "I'd say the most shocking thing here is those chompers. Yikes." Those creeping tendrils continue to encircle Bleu's waist. "Maybe the downsizing is a good sign. Could be that people are running the city more and more, not the company."

Bleu suddenly remember how intimidating his smile is now, and he stops grinning. "Mmm, maybe you should help me with the mixing and matching, huh? Guess it would take me to the next level..." He sighs again, enjoying the sensation of Richard around his waist. "You're correct, though. A new city government has been in the works for past couple years. Zephyr was heavily involved in the early days, in order to help it get off the ground, but it's been taking a less hands-on approach. I think they've been estimating that Fairhaven could be finally back to more-or-less normal by 2025..."

Richard smiles and nods. "It's the least the company could do. This is their mess," he claims. "I attended the fundraiser for that new police station a couple of months ago. We're definitely making progress. Magnus is... hell, I don't know what group he's with, but he's one of the most important people in town. Pretty sure we were supposed to have Michael J Fox on a hoverboard a few years back and not a fennec fox on a jetpack, though..." His head sinks lower, returning to tongue the part time goat's gills. The waist encircling extrusions also begin to encroach on Bleu's cunt, starting to stroke the scaly lips.

Bleu lets out a happy gasp of pleasure when Richard tongues at his gills, his whole aquatic body shuddering lustfully. The stroking at the mer's cunt, however, geta a bigger reaction, as Bleu squirms fitfully and moans. "Mmm, a 'Back to the Future' reference... I like your taste, yes. Th- think it makes me even more attracted to you..."

It seems the mer-maphrodite wasn't expecting those tender touches on their twat. Richard continues to gently stroke Bleu's gills, tease his titties, and massage his muscles even as he starts to caress that cunt in earnest. he pulls his mouth away from the nautical necking to speak. "This whole evening was my treat. First rule of entertaining is to know your audience."

Bleu had indeed not expected that, but if his happy moans are any indication, he's quite enjoying the teasing from the gel. His tits and gills being stimulated is lovely, too. "Mmm, well, you're getting to know me *quite* well. Really turns me on..." He wiggles some. "Get's me all hot 'n' bothered..."

Richard swirls around Bleu's body, slowly deflating the pillow behind his head into a simple pad to free up more mass. His head repositions to be in front of Bleu's own. "Getting to know you inside and out," he says, smirking down at the solid sea-person. Now entirely encasing Bleu's upper body save for his arms and head, Richard starts flowing a piece of himself into his lover's lower lips. It takes a familiar shape, throbbing and gently thrusting as shapeless goo strokes the stiff counterpart above it. "Don't be afraid to bite," he whispers, leaning down to resume his rendezvous with the other fish-scented slits on his fellow shapeshifter, "I taste like cherry."

"Cherry?" Bleu asks. "Huh..." He doesn't get long to contemplate the flavor of his lover, however, because suddenly his pussy is being thrust into, while his own slim cock is being stroked off, and he sighs happily. Yes, Richard's a keeper. "You better fuck me here again, babe..."

Richard shimmies the entirety of his slimy self as he settles into a rhythm, rocking his... he doesn't really have hips, but the thrusting is doing its thing. Slowly at first. The gel conforms to his lover's torso, touching everything, moving in unison with him to mash itself against everything from the mammaries to maleness. There's little doubt that he's doing exactly what Bleu told him to do as his turgid length touches every inch of the mer-herm's interior. He'd tell him a s much if his mouth wasn't making out with the mer's sensitive neck slits.

Bleu is rendered immobile by that manipulation of his gill slits. He wasn't kidding when he revealed how sensitive to touch they are. It makes him all weak in the knees (if he had knees). He huffs and squirms, unable to do anything but moan as the goo person starts fucking him silly.

The way his partner went almost limp from this full-body fucking almost feels unfair to Richard. At first he wonders if Bleu is bullshitting him, faking it for some reason. Then he realizes what's really happening. Bleu's body is sensitive to liquids. He's halfway to being one. Hot damn. And he only entered this form to make massaging him easier. He can't help but smile smugly at the unplanned effects of a shift working in his favor, as opposed to the extraneous entrancement of the snaky shift a while back. It breaks into a lecherous grin as he hears the man's moans from licks at his
gill slits. This is too easy. He's gonna have to let Bleu get him drunk sometime to even the score.

Bleu is always more than happy to get someone drunk, so that's definitely bound to happen sooner, rather than later. In the meantime, however, he's too busy being turned into a quivery pile of aroused fish-boi and leaking milky-white pre-cum thanks to Richard's combined jerk-off session and filling Bleu's fishy cunt. He'd call it an unfair advantage, if he wasn't enjoying it so much.

Richard keeps his jello-y self jiggling. Fishy-boy's fluids flow into his form, creating discolored clouds wherever they come into existence. He can tell there's something new inside himself. He can almost taste it. The taste on his lips of alcohol and aquatic life overwhelms all others as he kisses and nuzzles into Bleu's erogenous gills, very nearly forcing his fluid form through them. The only participation from the insensate sea-man is the spasming of his cunt muscles and squirming of his body. It might be unfair, but an advantage like this makes Richard feel powerful. He thrusts harder. Faster.

Bleu is not one to argue about his boyfriend's power. (Wait, have they graduated to 'Boyfriends'? The merboi guesses so.) Those harder thrusts make his squirm, as more of his pre leaks out, his arousal steadily growing. When he cums, he's going to cum hard, most likely. And Richard's manipulation of his gills certainly is going to help with that.

Richard's rigid rod is ramming harder and harder into the mer-man he's holding down - not that he'd need to. Honestly, this feels a bit *too* one sided. His hectic hammering slows to a stop, huffing and puffing as his head hovers just above his lover's. (If we're not all the way to 'boyfriends' yet, meeting the parents would make it official.) Once he sees Bleu's eyes unglaze long enough to look into his own, he would say, "Hold me close," no, *beg,* "please." If Bleu is still too shaken from the severity of the sex, Richard would help him into the requested hug.

Bleu mmmphs, his eyes refocusing on his gooey lover, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around his gelled lover. "Hold you," he coos, his faculties clicking back into place, "Of *course*, my Love." He smiles, and holds Richard, and presses a kiss to pliant lips.

Richard accepts that kiss in a heartbeat, hellish teeth having no effect on his hesitance. It probably helps that he's literally liquid as well and doesn't have to worry about wounds. The thrusting, too, returns to its fever pitch as Richard fearlessly lets his tongue into his lover's mouth. He humps for all he's worth, trying to get back to that peak of pleasure again. Having Bleu clawing at his back spurs him forwards, and not out of pain. This form hardly feels it.

Bleu does inadvertantly let his claws dig into Richard's back, but of course, he's too distracted. All that thrusting has driven the mer to the edge, and he can't hold back any longer, as his firm rod erupts with thin, milky cum all over Richard. It's not nearly as thick as when he's a satyr. His cumming doesn't stop his passionate, hungry kissing.

Richard grunts at the sudden sensation of cum flowing into him. Even though it's going straight into his stomach, he can taste it. Like seawater, but sweeter. The passionate, cherry, salt, and liquer flavored kiss. The sheer feeling of rubbing against everything from chin to groin on the former satyr. The spasming of his cumming cunt and tensing balls. It's too much for him to bear as well, and he finds himself cumming in time with his (You know what? Let's just say it.) boyfriend. He moans a long and lustful moan into the mer's mouth, just barely having the presence of mind to grope at Bleu's gills as he does.

Bleu had begun to return to full awareness, until Richard gives his gills another good groping, and fishy boi lets out a pleasured yip, his head tipping back and tongue hanging out of his mouth. His one weakness in this form. He rides out Richard's climax, huffing and grunting rather lewdly, unable to articulate a rational thought as the two hermy 'men' climax together. Yes, boyfriend sounds about right.

Hearing Bleu's yip almost throws Richard off, until it trails into a lewd moan. He pulls himself tight against the blissed-out mer-boi, moving with surprising stiffness for one so fluid until he finally comes down from his cumming. When it's over, he breaks the kiss and seems to lose all cohesion, becoming a shapeless blob in the water for a few seconds before he can gather himself into a panting, mostly human-shaped lump sitting next to Bleu on the bath's submerged bench. "Stupid question," he asks, turning towards his boyfriend, "was it good for you, too?" The smile on his face is a bit too cheeky to be from the post-coitus high.

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty

2019-12-31T23:06:53Z

Slippery Richard: Slippery Richard moved page Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty to Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog: Missing - RPlog suffix

#REDIRECT [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog]]

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog

2019-12-31T23:06:53Z

Slippery Richard: Slippery Richard moved page Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty to Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog: Missing - RPlog suffix

Peach Parlay Afterparty, Part 4: Second Date

2019-12-31T23:06:08Z

Slippery Richard: Slippery Richard moved page Peach Parlay Afterparty, Part 4: Second Date to Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog: title wasn't capitalized consistent with other logs, missing -RPlog suffix.

#REDIRECT [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog]]

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog

2019-12-31T23:06:07Z

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

With mentions but not appearances of
*[[Anbessa]]
*[[Luna]]
*[[Magnus]]
*[[Aava]]
*[[Miranai]]
*[[Kar-dragon]]

And the misuse of [[Fenris]]'s property

=Date=
Late November-early December 2019

Set a few weeks after [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty]]

=Log=
It's been a few weeks since that first drunken tryst that Richard had with a certain satyr. Everything except his memory tells him that it was some of the best fun he's had in months. That's not to say that he remembers it being a *bad* time. Rather, he doesn't remember a damn thing from after that second glass of whiskey. However, it left an imprint somewhere deep in his brain. A night with Bleu = a good time. They met up in the Zephyr lobby on this fine afternoon, and the bleating bachelor suggested a place of the Asian persuasion. Entering through the Teanuki Cafe's front doors to a sight of straw mats and robed servers, Richard asks, "Uh...this is the place, right? I just remembered that there's another one on the other side of town..."

Bleu smirks, leaning on Richard's arm. "Yes. Well, this one I think is the lesser known location. I've only been here a few times, myself. C'mon! Let's get some green tea, or maybe oolong... And then look for the hot springs. That's one of the main draws, after all!" The satyr leans over and gives Richard a peck on the cheek, as a Tanuki server makes their presence known from the direction of the kitchen.

Richard blushes hard at the caprine casanova's kiss on his mutated but mostly human cheek. "Bleu!" He whispers, "There are people here!" His eyes dart around, searching for a stronger excuse and definitely not lingering for a moment on one of the servers' stupendous scrotums, visible even through their exotic uniforms. Salvation makes itself evident as a sign from the heavens. Scratch that, as a literal sign hanging from one of the bright red archways. 'No sex or violence.' "We're their guests, for goodness sake!" He admonishes, halfheartedly, hooking a thumb towards the sign. Meanwhile, a tanuki has approached the odd couple.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Teanuki mountainside cafe. How can I help you?" They ask.

"Table for two, please," Richard says, "And those rules up there, you enforce them, right?"

The racoon-like restaurateur responds, "The second one is non-negotiable. The first one," their hand-paw spreads out and makes an back-and-forth balancing motion as they shrug, "It's before the dinner rush. Just take it to the onsen cave out back if you're going to make a mess. Your table is right this way."

So much for that. Richard pulls out the collar of his silken Promethean under-armor while a team of waiters set up a lap-height table and a pair of cushions.

Bleu grins as he makes his friend visibly redden and uncomfortable. "Don't *worry*, Babe... I can behave." He certainly can. "C'mon, let's sit, drink our tea, then we can go to the cave, alright?" He grips Richard's hand, and tugs him over to the table that is being set up. "I think this place may serve sushi, too, but don't quote me on that..." The satyr sits on his cushion, and grins. "Did I tell you before, Rich, that I find your modesty cute?"

Richard is glad that he's sticking to his hybrid humanoid form instead of that Serene Elf mutation he had last time. Chances are that he's going to be blushing from ear to ear before the evening's end. "I could go for an early dinner if they have it," he says, controlling his breathing a bit better at Bleu's reassurance. He seats himself cross-legged at one side of the table. Ceramic cups and saucers have already been placed for the pair, anticipating an order of some sort of soft drink. "There's a time and a place for that sort of thing. That's all." He claims. Nobody's buying it, not even Richard himself. "And there ought to be a particular *person* for it too, in my opinion." That rang a little bit truer.

A pair of menus are set out on the table, waiting for selections to be made.

Bleu picks up his menu, then looks up at the Tanuki. "Make mine Oolong, please." Then he peruses the menu. "Particular person, you say? Why Richard... Is that a proposal? On the second date?" He smirks, behind the menu so that the hybrid can't see. "Ah, yes, looks like they do serve sushi. I hear their wasabi is quite good..."

Richard starts leafing through his menu as well. "You said we had 'mind blowing' sex while I was blackout drunk that first time," he candidly claims. "Side note, I'd like the details on exactly what happened some time. Right now, though..."

Oh god, this is a big decision. Stall for time. Stall for time!

He folds his menu and offers it back to the waiter's waiting paws. "I'll have what he's having," he says to the server, "and a California roll with soy sauce and wasabi on the side." He leans toward the waiter. "Slice the roll, please. He'd like nothing more than to see me put anything that's that shape into my mouth." The waiter nods in understanding and begins to depart with at least one menu in hand. Richard returns his attention to the satyr who he's suitoring to.

You know what? Fuck it.

"Right now, I feel driven to make this a thing," he states. His voice didn't even waver that much! Nicely done. Oh. Oh, there are those creeping doubts again. Was beginning to wonder if they'd show up. "I don't know if I want this to be an 'I now pronounce you man and person of indefinite shape. You may kiss the whatever they currently are' thing," he stammers, "but hell yes. I'd love to watch movies and chill with you. I mean, you're one of the biggest swingers around town, right? I'm not going to ask you to give that up just for me."

Bleu makes the same order, though his roll remains uncut. Passing his menu to the tanuki, his former smirk has been replaced with a blushing grin. He slides his right hand across the table, to give Richard's hand a squeeze. "You'd really want to make it official? Is that why you asked me where I wanted to go the most tonight?" He really is blushing now. "Aw, Rich... You're so romantic! So I think you can guess my response..."

Richard shuffles onto his knees. "No, it's... I care what you think. I-I'm like this with everyone,
I swear. I asked one of Miranai's slutty maid daughters for permission, for fuck's sake. She had her
ass up in the air and I still-" he stutters to a stop.

That's skirting dangerously close to a rejection, Richie. What are you doing? You said yes. You *feel* like it should be yes. Pull it back.Come on, say something romantic!

He sighs, looks down, and picks up Bleu's hand with both of his own."It might be way too early in the relationship. I might not be 'the one,' but..."

...But what? Spit it out!

"I can't figure out how to say it," he deadpans, drained by his internal not-conflict. He drops Bleu's hand back to the table. Before he truly comprehends what he's doing, his other hand is around the back of Bleu's head and pulling the mythical man closer as he leans across the tiny table to meet him, his other hand still clasped by Bleu's on the tabletop, supporting their weight. Two pairs of lips meet.

A reasonable alternative to saying it. Points for creativity.

Bleu closes his eyes once their lips meet. In point of fact, he finds Richard's awkwardness to be endearing. So he lets his attraction show, with the kiss, and a squeeze to Richard's hand. An understanding. 'I love you.' The satyr has a lot to say, but he's now preoccupied with kissing this handsome man that he's fallen for.

Some of the tanuki staff blush beneath their fur. Some are quietly clapping or catcalling to the couple. One of the women (meaning she has breasts, although she’s still quite obviously a tanuki) whips out a scrapbook and retreats into the kitchen, scribbling frantically as she mutters something about 'shipping charts.' Her possibly cargo-related chattering serves as a prelude to an actual delivery. Richard had stopped moaning into the kiss moments ago. His eyes shot open, and he saw the approach of their server. Gently as he can manage, he breaks the oral embrace. "W-we ought to eat, first."

Something has shell-shocked the shapeshifter. What could it be?

Bleu is left feeling a little breathless, and he nods. "Yes, eat... But I want to argue that it is not too early in the relationship if we both want it." He's going to keep on topic, even while they eat. "If that kiss is any indication, then it's painfully obvious that we both want the same thing..."

Richard, staring into the middle distance, whispers "...something between us, anyway..." He shakes his head, and busies himself using chopsticks to spread tiny clumps of wasabi over his sliced sashimi. "Oh, dammit. This is going to sound so stupid," he groans, not taking his eyes off of the food. he pours a few drops of soy sauce into a tiny dipping dish. "I realized something right in the middle of that kiss."

Bleu bites into his spring roll. "Yeah? What's that? You want to shag me all night? You wanna be my hubby? You want matching tats on our shoulders?" He smirks a bit, likely making Richard squirm. "I mean, after tonight, it's an official thing, right? After that...kiss?"

Richard does squirm a bit at the teasing. "We already went over that. It's official, but not officially official. You know what I mean," he scoffs, "and you already have, like, two tattoos on you." He scarfs down a single slice of the Japanese rolled rice, and tries not to wince at the horseradish spice. That *is* good wasabi! He picks up his tea cup to wash down the flavor, but doesn't bring it to his lips yet. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's so monumentally stupid," he groans again. It's almost like it's so dumb that he can't bear not to share it.

Bleu leans forward, across the table. "What if *I* call it officially official? Also, I have three tattoos. You forgot the one on my penis, didn't you?" He giggles, then leans back on his cushion, calmly sipping his tea. "Anyway, you have to tell me. Mates don't keep secrets from each other, not even stupid ones. So tell me, please..."

"I'm fine with that, as long as it's not *so* official that I have to snub Joy," Richard says, brushing away the thought. "She's had eyes for me for months now, but I only ever seem to see her on Taco Tuesdays. Little pega-fox hybrid. Firecracker's daughter, if you don't recognize the name. And my eyes were shut at the time, so that tat's news to me." He decides against questioning whether Bleu means 'mates' in the Australian sense or in the conventional sense so he can finally release his ridiculous revelation upon the world. "Anyway, I didn't realize I was doing it at the time. That confession was lifted almost word for word from a Daft Punk song." He swigs his cup of oolong like it's the first thing he's had to drink in days, then sets the cup down defeatedly. "Fucking Magnus," he laughs in resignation, "I'm gonna blame him for that."

"Snub Joy?" Bleu scoffs. "My dear, have you seen how many lovers I have? This isn't an exclusive club..." He laughs, picks up a piece of sashimi, and plops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Daft Punk, huh? Good choice. You have very good taste, my love." He picks up his cup, takes a long sip, then sets it down again. "Blame Mag for what? Getting a new mate that loves and adores you?"

Richard fills another cup of tea, still chuckling to himself about the stupidity of his epiphany. "Blame him and *his* good taste in music for worming its way into me pouring my heart out to you. Gotta be subliminal messaging or something." He deftly plucks another piece of his meal from the plate using his chopsticks. A loud sigh escapes him, signaling the end of his giggling. On to more serious matters. "Nevermind. You're more than worth forgiving him for that. And yes, I have. Just wanted to hear you say you were fine with it. Would've felt inconsiderate otherwise."

Bleu sets his chopsticks down, and looks across at Richard. He's serious, too. "Well, then, I can say it now. You're wonderful, and I love you. And yes, when I say mates, I don't mean in the friend sense." He smiles. "And yes, Mag has a funny way of being a matchmaker, eh?"

Richard pops a piece of rolled rice and fish into his mouth. Then another. He swallows. "Love you too," he replies, licking a stray grain of rice from his lips, then puckering their moistened surface towards the satyr to blow a kiss. "Top 500," he adds, raising the teacup to his mouth for a sip. After slaking his thirst once more, he comments, "I'll throw a fit if Magnus doesn't have the keys to the city yet. It seems like he's always organizing *something* to get us all out and meeting each other."

Bleu blushes at Richard's words. His attraction to this man knows no bounds. "Hah, you're right. Though I wouldn't have quite pegged that I'd wind up your pretty boi waifu." The satyr smirks, and finishes off his spring roll. "I had a thought at first that you were the strong, brooding type. The Loner. I'm glad I was mistaken. Anyway..." He pops another piece of sushi in his mouth. "After we're done, we're going to the Cave, right?"

Richard eats the second-to-last piece of seaweed-rolled savory goodness. "Hell, I went out there thinking 'what would I least mind getting stuck as if we're stranded outside the bubble. Versatile, sort of normal, and comes with its own bow and arrows? Serene Elf it is,'" he muses. "Wasn't going for the 'loner' vibe so much as being pragmatic. I mean, yeah, I'm out on my own a lot but that's not a social choice so much as a part of my job." He scoops up the final fragment of fishy food, continuing, "If you want a loner, though, I can be that. Spent more hours than I'm proud of talking to myself in the mirror back in the human enclave." With a gulp, he finally clears his plate. "They told me I could be anything when I grew up. Now I am anything."

Over by the sushi bar, a grumpy old tanuki clears his throat. He nudges a potted bamboo plant with his foot, which molds itself into the shape of yet another tanuki.

"Except inanimate objects, right. I'll take the check for both of us, please." Richard amends. "That reminds me, did Fenris end up wearing a lampshade that night? He was already partway to being a decorative lamp..."

Bleu drains his teacup, and gobbles up his final piece of fish. Pushing his empty plate back, he grins at Richard. "You make an incredibly sexy serene elf, too... But, again, I'm quite biased toward humans and humanoids. Hell, I'm half human myself." He looks over at the Tanuki, then laughs. "Nah, he paused at decorative vase, I'm afraid, but he earned brownie points from me for bearing a motif of satyrs like me..."

The waiter from earlier approaches, having dealt with a few customers who have just started to trickle in with the ending of the day. Between the server's hands, they have the bill in the form of a nanite-formed hologram. Richard transfers some freecred to it, plus a decent gratuity. "It is one of my favorite forms. Comes with a wardrobe for every occasion, too." He drains his own cup, then resumes speaking, "Oh! Remind me to show you what I wore to Mags' Haloween Party later." he stands up, offering his hand to the still-seated satyr. "We were going to go to the cave. There's a gazebo on the way there. We could stop and watch the sunset, or go straight to the hot springs."

Bleu grips Richard's hand, and smiles, leaning against the hybrid once standing on his own two hooves again. "I think watching the sunset with you would be the most romantic thing, ever... Lead me away, dear Knight." He leans against Richard's side, giddy as a schoolgirl.

"The only dragon I recall slaying is that lady who lives near the path to New Dawn," Richard quips, "But if you insist..." The side Bleu is leaning on rapidly grows rigid, bulging with sourceless bulk that only nanites could muster. Richard puts a metallic (?!) thumb through a loop on his Promethean armor. In a single, smooth motion, he withdraws a strap and the upper portion of his attire falls away to reveal... another suit of armor underneath. Polished silver plates shift and settle over an organic green undersuit of living leaves.

Similarly, he whips off his belt. Below the waist, greaves and greenery also form. He kneels, gathering the garments in the crook of his elbow. Then, (ab)using his form's height advantage of nearly two feet on the twinky goat-man, he grunts, grabbing Bleu in his gauntlets for a gallant bridal carry. The suit of literal shining armor feels warm, as if it was out in the sun on a pleasant day. In reality, it's at Richard's body temperature. "I hope you memorized where that fastener is," he teases, tromping his way across the oriental garden towards the gazebo.

Bleu's eyes go wide at his mate's sudden change in appearance. "My oh my! You just know how to be roman-ohhh!" He bleats giddily when Richard hoists him up into the bridal carry. Even more romantic. Where has this knight in shining armor been all his life? "Seriously, Rich... You're amazingly romantic..." He sighs happily, as they clomp over to the gazebo.

Steel-shod footfalls upon stepping stones make the couple's journey across the garden hard to ignore. No doubt there's a tanuki or two tucked in with the tiger lilies. The orange of lily petals and yellow of sunflowers gleam off of Richard's spotless breastplate, joined by the refractions of the sun setting over the Pacific ocean far in the distance. Nearer is the city of Fairhaven itself, landmarks such as Zephyr tower, Silver Fangs Radio, and the Red Court jut above the horizon. Look closely, and you may see mutant and machine alike flitting through the air between them like the pulsing lifeblood of the city.

"Please. You make it easy for me," Richard scoffs at the man in his arms, "I'd wager your alcohol tolerance comes at the expense of being *just* a bit buzzed all the time."

Bleu has to give some thought to that assertion for several moments. "You know... You might have a point. I probably *am* perpetually buzzed. Whatevs, it's awesome." He giggles, looking off to the west, admiring the view. "My, look at that sight... Breathtaking, eh?"

Richard nods along to Bleu's assertion. "It sure sounds like it'd be fun." He follows the easy flirt's eyes towards the city. True to his claim, it takes Richard's breath away. Thankfully we've established that he doesn't actually need it. He stops in his tracks, the momentum of his armor and passenger keeping him going a step further than he intended. He'd question this cafe's business model if they're not selling postcards of this view. "...Damn," he finally manages to say, "which of your gods do we thank for this?"

By now, they're nearly halfway across the garden, at the T intersection where they could either continue towards the steamy caves, stop by the garden's mountainside railing, or detour to the gazebo as they originally intended.

Bleu relaxes his head against Richard's breastplate. "Well, if we're going Greco-Roman, possibly Fauna, the goddess of nature..." He chuckles. "You're one of the first people who doesn't seem to just humor me in my unconventional beliefs... I appreciate that."

Richard cranes his head down to plant a kiss on Bleu's forehead. "I care what you think," he reassures, "and besides, Artemis has a temple just uphill from the cafe. Who am I to question any of it when there's a slice of divinity right here, dear?" Contented sighing escapes him as he drinks in the vista. "This is too perfect," he wistfully announces. His motion resumes, the loping gait of this champion of nothing in particular gently rocking the blessed gift he's carrying. "We're going to the gazebo. I want to kiss you until you drag me away to those hot springs."

Bleu sighs at the kiss. This is heavenly. "Mmm, you make a good point... Still..." He looks up at Richard. "It is, isn't it? And this has been the perfect day, no less." His little tail is flitting quite excitedly by now. "And I'll quite happily kiss you for as long as you want."

The boards of the bridge to the gazebo bear no protest to the crossing of both the armored Adonis (cool your jets, Artemis, I didn't mean it literally) and his charge, a testament to the fine Japanese-style carpentry that composes the cafe. Trickling water and the occasional splash of an excited koi are the only other sounds. They are alone here, save for a conspicuously placed statue of a tanuki man. He sits in a meditating posture, his burgeoning belly and ballsack beneath it hanging over his legs. He has his eyes closed, and a smile on his snout speaks to wisdom unbound by worry.

Richard kneels, setting Bleu back upon his hooves. At his full height, Bleu is only a couple of heads taller than the man who carried him. As Richard rises from his knees, however, his height begins to align more with his partner's. They stand nearly eye to eye. You'd need a bubble level to tell which one of them is taller, now. "Kiss me."

Bleu absolutely doesn't have to be asked twice. The satyr throws his arms around this man whom he's fallen passionately in love with, practically melting against Richard's body, and their lips meet. It's practically electric. And the serene surroundings do much to cultivate Bleu's feelings for his handsome knight. They'll kiss, all the while watched knowingly by that statue, as if it's in on some great cosmic plan to draw the two lovers together…

And who knows? Maybe it is. One of them claims to have met a god in the flesh. Richard wishes he could press himself against his lover, to feel that heavenly body, slim and boyish, but undoubtedly a man. It takes little more effort for Richard to will away the protective vestments of this mutation than it does to drop the Promethean armor in the crook of his elbow. The pair of them embrace bodily, wordlessly speaking their desire to each other with dancing tongues. Bleu would feel the only thing between him and Richard's flawless, hairless flesh now is a simple loincloth.

Once he feels that hard outer shell melt away, Bleu presses as close as possible, arms fully encircling the handsome, smooth, flawless man. Naught but a loincloth between them. What had started as a teasing flirtation followed by a drunken one-night-stand was blossoming into something far more, and the satyr honestly couldn't be happier in this moment. Time almost seems to stop, as cliched as that is, but who's complaining? Richard can certainly feel Bleu's erection, which he couldn't less about hiding.

Richard leans in to his lover, although he presses his weight forwards to keep their hips apart. It's a bit of an awkward A-frame arrangement, but it sends a message. His wandering hands, one of them running up into the half-animalistic hairs on Bleu's chest, pausing with a single finger upon the satyr's sternum. Patience, dear. That's not to say Richard isn't feeling frisky himself. His mind forms a devious idea. No, *several* devious ideas to accompany his body's just-beginning reaction to drinking in the feel, the smell, the sound of being so near to someone so close. Let's play roulette.

The lips on Bleu's own begin to feel dry. Chapped. Like they belong to someone who's been out in the wintry forest for days. That roughness spreads into a tickling upon Bleu's upper lip, unmistakably the fuzz of closely-clustered hairs, though his partner's nose still feels hairless and human as it brushes against his own. Slightly different in shape, but still human. Richard's moaning deepens into a rugged growl, and the taste of his tongue has a hint of earthy sweetness... maple syrup, perhaps? That taste and roughness are beginning to fade, however, and something else is taking their place.

Richard still holds him close, his other hand snaked under Bleu's arm and behind his head. He *could* stop Richard here, but what's the next one going to be?

Bleu knows better than to rush it, despite his growing lust and arousal. Waiting is sweeter. He keeps his eyes closed, sensing that his mate wants this change to be a surprise. He won't stop Richard. No, he'll kiss the changing man, until the latter gives him a sign that it's okay to look…

Richard's kiss morphs fluidly into another, his lips regaining some of their moisture as they thin. His voice rises but remains masculine, gaining a faint breathiness to its tone. Bleu's tongue begins to overpower his lover's with ease, though it darts around his just as easily as it too loses girth, tickling the inside of the goat-man's gullet in flicking strokes. On the periphery, Bleu can feel the edges of his tongue brush against expanding canine teeth. They lengthen almost to the point of completely overlapping their counterparts on Richard's lower jaw, but taper to pencil-tip points. As their formation finishes, a hint of sourness and salt fills their mouths. Even that only lasts for a split second as the changes continue.

Richard continues to hold Bleu's lips against his own, cradling his lover with a hand at the back of his head, where the slope of the skull meets the muscle of the neck.

Okay, now his curiousity's getting the better of him. Those sharpened canines are too unusual to ignore. Bleu opens his eyes, to see what shape his lover has taken…

Richard is... outwardly human and slightly effeminate. Nothing has changed from the neck downward. Noticing a break in the rhythym of the kiss, he pulls away. His form settles as he stops his shifting for now. Until he opens his mouth, the most uncanny features about him are the vertical slit pupils of his eyes. "Ssampler platter'ss not done yet, dearest," he lisps, a forked tongue flashing over his teeth. It remains out and wiggles for a scant moment as he inhales. "Unlesss you've already picked your dessert." If no protest is given, he'll move in and resume the lip-locked tongue tango.

Bleu finds the change to be quite attractive, but by this point his attraction to Richard is beyond words. He smiles, and nods. "We'll get to dessert eventually," he replies, quite happy with savoring over the rest of the meal first. No protest comes from the satyr at all as the pair's lips meet once again.

Richard threads that thin tongue between Bleu's lips and resumes exactly where it left off. His tongue swells back to more normal proportions as it twirls alongside Bleu's own. He takes a sharp breath through his nose and moans once more, luxuriating in the feel of the change nearly as much as his lover's embrace. Yet again, Bleu feels the feather-light touch of facial hair. This time, it's thinner than it had been, both in depth and area covered, forming naught but a narrow strip around Richard's hot lips. They do seem to radiate just a minute amount of heat, and as Bleu snogs the shapeshifter, he could swear he tastes a note of exotic spices...

This one also arouses Bleu's curiosity (among other things). His eyes open once again, most intrigued by that exotic taste of spices. What could this be?

Richard backs away once more. His features are high and defined, mostly human but unnatural, otherworldly and magical. Not least of which are his eyes, which glow golden from within. His eyebrows are immaculately groomed arches of black hair. He is bald above that point save for a top-knot ponytail, rising like a minaret in the desert. A dashing goatee which can't be wider than a dozen hairs at any point frames his lips, which are drawn tight in a stern expression.

"You have awoken Rashad, genie of the lamp," he announces both softly and imperiously, speaking with a slightly nasal accent. His serious facade collapses into a smirk not even a second after he finishes speaking. He resumes, "I can also do I Dream of Jeannie, and I think my Robin Williams impression is passable. Your wish is my command." He pauses, then leans back in to Bleu. "I'm sure you wish to kiss me again. That one is a freebie."

Bleu isn't so sure in this moment. "A genie, eh? You've already granted most of my wishes so far. Maybe I should kiss, just one more time, though..." And that he does, though he doesn't close his eyes... Not yet. Perhaps he wants an extra moment to decide. Or maybe he wants to abuse that last 'wish'...

Richard lets his luminous eyes lid over, simply enjoying the moment and the opportunity to tease this horned and horny fellow. He is at their beck and call. They need only signal their intent, and he will comply to the best of his ability. Guessing that free wish was an easy one. The taste of turmeric and tikka masala plays ever so subtly across Bleu's tongue as 'Rashad's' does much the same.

Bleu has made his decision, yes. This form, so exotic and alluring. He likes it. "Mmmph... Th-this one," he manages to moan out, before he's too caught up in the kissing to say anything else. In this moment he's practically worshipping the man in his arms. He wants nothing more than to be with Richard forever.

Richard's whole body flushes with the same heat as his lips. He pulls a quarter of an inch away from the kiss to whisper, "As you wish, master," before kissing Bleu on the cheek... then the jaw, and then several times down the neck as his transformation builds momentum. His shoulders widen and swell with muscle, biceps ballooning, forearms reforming, and pectorals pushing outwards. A dull red color rolls over his skin from head to toe, bringing with it yet another pulse of heat. His entire body feels smooth and warm, practically for a wet sheen to be placed upon it. "You like this sensation, don't you, master?" He breathes. His kissing trails further down, onto the shoulder, over the breast. He plants one final kiss over Bleu's heart, then stands and gazes deep into the eyes of the satyr, one hand draped across each of his shoulders. "The warmth," he says, "the strength and gentleness."

He squeezes firmly enough to hold but not so hard as to restrain. His grip loosens, and begins to drag lovingly down the length of Bleu's arms as Rashad takes a single step backwards. "My fingers dance across your skin as softly as the finest grains of sun-baked desert sand, warmest of all, barely upon the cusp of scalding, but you know they will never cause you pain." He takes one more step, letting Bleu's fingers pass through his own. Now past arms' reach, the djinn crosses his
arms over his swollen pecs. A pair of solid gold rings encircle his nipples, and as his arms move, several seamless gold bangles form at each of his wrists. "What would you have me d-"

He puts a finger up, jangling his bangles with sudden motion. "Actually, one question first," he says, dropping the act entirely. That finger points down past his sculpted abdominals, "I can do poofy pants or like... that wisp of smoke thing for my legs. Do you have a preference?"

Bleu finds himself leaning closer to the djinn, though held firm, yet gently, by the shoulders. As Richard's touch drags down his arms, and his goat-like ears perk to his lover's warm and florid descriptions, he nods, and sighs pleasantly. He knows exactly what he wants Richard to do, but that interrupting question drags the satyr back to reality. "O-oh... Pants, definitely. I like your strong legs..."

Richard crosses his arms again. "It has been decreed," he announces, "I shall wear the poofy pants." At the end of that sentence, the uppermost part of his loincloth changes to a soft, shining cloth
like those found at the far end of the Silk Road. It wraps around his waist as a sash. The rest of the cloth changes as well, encasing his hips before draping down either leg. At their ends, they cinch down upon his ankles. More of the material manifests around his feet, forming a pair of pointed shoes. He stands silently at attention (both euphemistically and otherwise), awaiting his next command.

Bleu claps his hands. Yes, indeed, he likes this. Everything about it. "Ah, well. So... First off, how many wishes have I got, hmm? Traditionally there's only three, but I figure we're probably dispensing with that tradition, right?" He rubs his chin, and steps closer to his lover, running his hand over Richard's bare chest. "On the other hand, my first command might be to fuck me senseless, but sometimes the tease is just as much fun as the end result..."

Rashad stands motionless, save for a twitch of the loins at the hand caressing the beef steak's worth of meat that serves as his pec. "You are limihhh~" He says, the twitch migrating to his face. "Nnf, excuse me-" The nomads camped out on his crotch must be leaving, because the tent there abruptly ceases to exist. It's clear that the main tentpole is gone, and a shift in the wind makes it evident that the site is now entirely barren. He bends over forwards, hands on his knees, and breathes heavily.

"Haah. Hoo. I'm okay. Holy shit. Whew..." He looks over to his no doubt confused master/lover. "No underpants. Silk was..." he breathes heavily, then heaves himself upright again. A fist comes up to his mouth. He clears his throat into it. "Oh man. Sorry about that. I could *not* focus. No way in hell I would've made it over to the hot springs. As I was saying-" He straightens up fully, crossing his arms and fixing his glowing eyes upon Bleu's own.

"You are limited only by what you can imagine. I will grant any wish, and any number of wishes, save for those that seek to take life or restore it to the dead. Make your decision, and I shall make it so."

Bleu gives some thought to his lover's words. "Any wish, save raising the dead. Heh, really old school there." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Well... I want a nice bed, four-poster, with silk sheets, and a satin comforter... Baby blue in color." His description is oddly specific.

Rashad nods. "So it shall be." He waves his hand out towards the courtyard. "I apologize. I could not safely put it closer. If you inspect it, you will find that the sheets are of high thread count. Freshly woven, never washed nor stained before. The bed itself is made of acacia wood, carved and inlaid with patterns resembling grape vines. I assume you desired pillows as well. A multitude of fine feather-down pillows in many shapes and sizes are at the head of the mattress, stacked against the headboard in pillow cases of matching satin and silk."

Bleu claps his hands and grins, then rushes over the bed and hops onto it. "Oooh, it's nice and soft. And baby blue! Just perfect!" He loses himself with hugging some pillows for a few minutes. "Oh, now my second wish, ummm... Well... Yes, how 'bout some romantic music. You know... Sultry, seductive..."

Following his master up to the bedside, the genie nods once more. "Yes, master." He raises a hand beside himself, angled perfectly at 90 degrees at the shoulder, and again at the elbow. Movement seems to surge through his muscles, from the shoulders, through the biceps and triceps, passing through the forearm into his hand. He snaps his fingers once. "From this point, you shall be able to hear music clearly and at whatever volume you subconsciously prefer. It is currently that of a live jazz band performing a medley of music which matches your description." His arm lowers in a single fluid motion, joining the other across his chest. He stoically turns his head to the invisible spot in space. "I believe this is 'Careless Whisper,' performed as an instrumental interpretation." Rashad returns his luminous gaze to the pillow-snuggling satyr. "Is there anything else you desire?"

Bleu hrmms. "Can you hear the music, or just me? I want it to get us *both* in the mood..." He looks up at the sky. "I want you to feed me chocolate, as suggestively as possible. Right here on the bed,
beside me. Then I want a belly rub, followed by some leg rubbing. You know, before we get to the *hot stuff*..."

The djinn lets slip the barest hint of a smile. "Loudly and clearly, master." He seats himself with one leg draped over the edge of the bed and his other bent, sitting half cross-legged on the edge of the bed. "I have in my hand a bar gourmet Belgian chocolate. Close your eyes and I shall lay it on your tongue." Should Bleu comply, Rashad would tenderly place a pinch upon his master's tongue. "If you will permit my opinion, I prefer to have such a delicacy last as long as it can. I recommend you allow each morsel to melt upon your tastebuds, to have every particle to impart its sweetness to you." Again. He leaves his thumb inside the man's mouth longer than strictly necessary. "Feel it melt upon your palate. You hardly even need swallow. Let your own body do the work. Allow me to cater to you." One more. Larger this time. Rashad's fingers are smeared with chocolate that has softened in his heated grip. He leaves his fingers in Bleu's mouth, ensuring none of the sweet is wasted. "Heat. Such a simple thing. You make it without effort, as I grant these wishes without effort." A larger piece still, though Bleu feels this one hanging just at the edge of his lips...

Bleu closes his eyes readily, and tries eat that piece, only to find his lover's fingers in his mouth, letting the sinfully delicious chocolate melt slowly against his tongue. He could get used to this treatment. On the introduction of the second piece, he almost tries to lean up to grasp it with his lips, but refrains, allowing the djinn to hold it as he pleases, apparently teasing the goatman in some respects.

There's a deep "Hmmm" from the musclebound magician. He allows the sugary sweet to fall into the goatman's mouth. "You are a man of taste. This treat is good, but it is plain. You desire something more" Rashad muses, "and I shall provide." There is a momentary pause before he says, "You need not hesitate. Take it from me." Odd. He sounded like he was getting closer as he said that. Nonetheless, Bleu feels the warmth of Rashad's body closing in, and another fragment of the cocoa conjuration at the edge of his lips. In fact, that warmth is *very* close.

Bleu keeps his eyes closed, wanting to keep the surprise complete. He can feel the warmth, has a faint idea, but not conclusive, what it might be. He leans in, takes that bite, and murrrrs.

Once the bait is taken, Rashad moves in. His lips meet his lover's. The chocolate is shared between two mouths, tossed between two tongues. The flavor of cardamom and caraway blends with cocoa as the candy breaks down, melted by the Arabian heat of Rashad's form and the tamer temperatures of the satyr beneath him. That stream of sugar and spice flows naturally down Bleu's throat as the kiss continues.

Bleu mmms, pressing eagerly against Rashad's lips. Quite heavenly. Such exotic flavors, mixed together. Almost intoxicating. The satyr wants... More. It's impossible not to. Rashad is everything he could want, and then some.

Boy, this satyr is eager! Rashad can tell from the thrashing of the tongue in his mouth that Bleu is begging for it. That dunk in the hot tub last time didn't give as much feedback as this closed-eyes kissing session did. All right... what can we do to really rile this Greco-Roman Romeo up? He liked that stand and carry thing back when Richard was playing off of that knight comment. Bleu's just under five feet tall most of the time. This beefcake body is just begging for a boost out of being four-foot-something to cater to what Rashad hopes is one of Bleu's fantasies. The first things Bleu would notice are that Rashad's tongue is pushing even deeper into his mouth. His plush lips feel like they're swelling, and that delightful spice in his saliva is stronger, though not hotter in flavor. Pulling away from the kiss, Rashad, now two feet taller than he had been with proportions to match, tears a chunk from the chocolate bar using only his teeth and moves back in to make out some more.

Bleu is more than eager. It's taking all his willpower to keep his considerable libido in check and not to just grab his lover and shove the other man onto the and fucking him madly right there. Fortunately, satyrs actually *do* have considerable self-control when they need to. Seeing that the djinn has grown, he murrrs, smiling to himself when Rashad leans in with another piece of chocolate. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he murmurs, before pressing into that kiss, savoring the chocolate once more.

Rashad's tongue, now enlarged along with his entire body, dominates the kiss completely. If he's beefy, his tongue is the steak. Slathered in spice and slick with saliva, it tosses about the tab of chocolate like it were a TicTac, but the titan is anything but dominant over his master's mouth. The satyr is the one steering the kiss. Even so, the taller and stronger of the two tosses his lover on top of himself, rolling on the sheets so the satyr lands atop him without breaking the kiss.

Bleu is far too caught up in the kiss to really protest or react when his mate suddenly rolls over on the bed, goatman now on top, where he looks so much smaller than the djinn. Rashad is not far off the mark, though... Bleu does enjoy these size differences...

Now in a more submissive position where he serves somewhat as the satyr gets even more oral affection. He can smell that the goatman's getting juicy down there. Hm. That reminds him that he's currently... unequipped, due to a silken sensitivity issue. Thankfully, he no longer has to support his bulk on the bed. A muscular arm snakes its way down to his lover's labia, caressing his sheath and sack on the way there. One of his heated fingertips finds its way into the slick tunnel, taking full advantage of his enhanced reach to pull Bleu close.

Bleu is still utterly engrossed in the passionate chocolate kiss, so he isn't aware when Rashad's hand sneaks its way toward the satyr's plump, wet folds, but he certainly notices when the djinn strokes over his sheath, and his sack, too, but his biggest reaction comes when his lover's finger presses right into his pussy, Bleu letting out a pleasured bleat.

Yes... he's liking this. Them's the happy goat noises. Rashad releases the candy bar from his grasp in favor of something sweeter. His now-freed hand rises to roam over the shorter man's back, searing Saharan heat suffusing into the satyr's muscles and spine, but true to Rashad's earlier word, the sensation is anything but painful. It's like a hot stone massage from the giant genie's hands.

Bleu oohs, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he finds both his plump folds being toyed with, and the most amazing feeling of warmth and soothing heat spreading into his back and helping to loosen and relax tense muscles. It feels truly incredible, heavenly, in fact. And there are, of course, far more of those happy goat noises to follow, murring bleats that he can't *not* make, because he *has* to express his pleasure somehow.

Like putty. That's the only way to describe it. He has Bleu exactly where he wants to be. Using a massive, muscular man's terrific torso as a body-pillow while his lover is knuckle-deep inside of him. Rashad feels a sense of accomplishment, knowing he's serving his master's wishes so wel- haaang on, no need to let the nanites tell him what to think. Just a role-play. A damn hot one. That pride is warranted even without nanites nudging his mind in that direction. Rashad's single finger inside that slick tunnel is joined by a second. His wrist swivels slowly, sliding the fingers in and out. They flex and fidget, their thaumaturgical owner gauging by the sounds of the groaning goatman whether he's close to a G-spot as his thumb slides over the clit at the front of that slit for good measure. Rashad breaks the kiss long enough to let Bleu breathe, saying, "Allow me to serve you, master," before pucking up again to help bring Bleu even closer to bliss.

Bleu certainly enjoys being served, if it feels this good. Melting back into that new kiss, after his brief breather, his bleating groans start up once again, getting louder and more intense every time his lover's fingers his one of those fabled g-spots. And every time that *does* happen, the satyr's mind goes blank for as long as the spot is being teased, his whole body slumping a little more more like a big ol' ragdoll. He hasn't got a pussy fingering this good in quite awhile. In fact, Bleu can't even remember the last time.

Aaaaand bingo! There they are. Rashad's sexual pseudo-sonar system finds its mark. He'll tell Bleu it's genie's intuition if he asks... if he's coherent enough to even have that question. Pride turns to envy. His partner is having a grand old time. The sights and sounds are starting to get Rashad a bit randy, and he doesn't even have the parts to participate in this pleasure. Envy turns to shame. Rashad's face flushes hot when he realizes that this selfish impulse goes against his own desires, against his own choices. There will always be another time. He was fine with that underwater BJ back at the bachelor pad, and something tells him that he's been in the same position as the one he's got Bleu in right now. Shame gives way to resolve. Rashad doesn't know how. He doesn't even know *if.* He simply feels that at some point, this man has brought him to the heights of pleasure. He'll be damn sure before this evening's over that Bleu will get to go there too. Rolling even further, onto his side, he sends the satyr partly off of him and onto the sheets. With gravity no longer pressing the pair together, Rashad ceases his massage and uses the separation to slide his hand between them, starting to stroke Bleu's stiff, unsheathed shaft.

Bleu finds himself being shifted again, down onto the soft satin sheets, though he's a bit too insensate with pleasure to fully notice. He does notice, however, when his lover's hand comes to stroke his perpetually erect equinoid rod, and emits another bleating moan accordingly. 'Yesss, that's good,' he thinks, while his cock twitches and throbs to Rashad's touch, musky, alcoholic pre pooling up from the cumslit to splatter across his still-round belly and chest.

And Bleu's bell-end is already lubed for his pleasure. This is... wait, why does it smell fermented? Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. Rashad moans for his master's benefit
while the kiss goes on. Down below, his large, heated hand rises up that stiff shaft, brushing over the medial ring and palming its broad head. It's slick up top, but as Rashad slathers the slickening
liquid back down Bleu's dong, he begins to run low on natural lubricant. This is a good start, but from the feel of it, the faun-like mutant is set to go off sometime soon. Even with his more passive approach to the kiss, Bleu's tongue feels like it's not doing much conscious movement. Working with what he has to work the master's wang, Rashad switches hands, plastering the penis with pussyjuice as he resumes his pistoning of the pleasure canal. Much better. With a firm grip like the hot tongs of a Damascus blacksmith, Rashad pumps the bellows of Bleu's balls by basting his manhood with muff fluid in two strokes and then continuing his ministrations in time with his master's pounding heartbeat.

On a normal day, Bleu could wax on and on about the alcoholic content of his cum, and how it's a special gift from his god Dionysus, but at the moment his lips are firmly locked with those of his supremely handsome mate, and his mind is frankly overwhelmed by the great handjob he's getting, as Rashad spreads both the satyr's pre-cum and vaginal fluids all up and down his throbbing penis. Each pump of Bleu's balls also gets another loud bleat, followed by another splatter of pre, though one senses that full orgasm is not far behind.

The genie keeps pumping, plastering the prick with its own pre to keep the lubrication consistent. Down under that, his pussy-pistoning progresses into a three-fingered affair. The rapid breathy bleating (can we take a second to say how cute that is?) signals to Rashad that his master's orgasm is near, and he raises the tempo of his stroke to match, playing his privates like a musical instrument to accompany the sensual soundtrack that Rashad set up earlier. The chords on the medial ring, flare, clit, and G-spot seem to be crowd pleasers in this private performance.

Now that Rashad is thrusting three fingers into Bleu's hot, achingly needy pussy, the satyr's aforementioned cute happy sounds just keep getting more insistent. With the increased tempo, as well, Bleu finally dares to break the kiss, but that's only because he's throwing his head back to moan far louder than before, his balls tensed up to spray satyr seed all over himself and the genie's hands. "Oof. Damn..." is about all he can muster to say.

Boom goes the dynamite. Now that moan... that was musical. Sticky seed shoots skyward, splattering the satyr's stomach and staining the sheets. Some gets on Rashad's hands, but he ignores it until the spasms of jism abate, speeding up even further to keep pace with the spurts and then coming down gently, even delicately as his master's cumshot gradually ceases. When he finally begins to feel that throbbing rod lose its rigidity, he releases his grasp. Contented in his literal handiwork, he rolls onto his back and allows Bleu to do the same. The pleasured Pan-esque person would hear Rashad shuffling off to the side before another bite of Belgian chocolate is dangled above his face in cum-stained hands. "I take it that this way of enjoying chocolate was adequately sensual, master?"

Bleu takes a little bit to recover. He knows in the back of his mind that he'll be good for a round two before too long. But for now he's relaxing on the cum-stained sheets, looking up at the sky and giggling softly. "Mmm, you could certainly say that," he murmurs, before raising his head to reach the chocolate with his lips. Letting it melt on his tongue, he sighs, then immediately licks at Rashad's fingers, tasting his own cum.

"It pleases me to meet with your approval." His forced stoicism cracks into a smile, at least for a little while. It really is hard not to take pride in a job well done. In this case, a double handjob. Rashad offers his other hand and more chocolates, letting Bleu savor both of the sweet and salty flavors. With dinner in the near-distant past and Bleu having concluded the indulgence and intercourse, Rashad rises to a sitting position, then rolls to kneel between Bleu's legs. "Lay back and relax," he states, offering the remainder of the chocolate bar to his partner, "I believe you wished for a belly and leg massage to follow that treat, did you not?"

Bleu takes a bite of chocolate, and sighs happily again. He lays back, alright, and gets incredibly relaxed, still eating that chocolate and fully indulging his craving. "Yes, a belly massage would be great. Big as a fucking cow right now... You'll probably feel little Bleu Jr. kicking, too..." He giggles. "Course, I'm curious what your opinion on being a father is? You know, for the future..."

Rashad complies with the next part of the wish without hesitation. "As you wished. And the sushi earlier," he says, breaking character for candid commentary, "I don't know what it is about that specific type of food that makes it so filling." His heated hands move in wide, counter- rotating circles around Bleu's belly, barely pressing through his muscles and letting the warmth of- that's not a beer belly? All right then. "Oh. Congratulations! May I ask who the father is?" The caress of his crimson fingers becomes that much lighter near the navel of the masculine hermaphrodite, cautious of the new life within. Then comes the question. Those strong hands just barely quiver. Richard sighs. "I don't feel ready for that. Call me old fashioned, but I'd want to settle down before having a kid. Marry someone who knows me as well as I know myself, buy a plot of land, really focus on raising them responsibly instead of kicking yet another feral out into the world. Until then, I'm on a sterility patch." There's a pause which is the other type of pregnant while he continues rubbing the satyr's stomach. "God, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss *kids.* Honest to goodness innocent children, who take at least a dozen years to turn into horny monsters. Practically built the world around them all those years ago."

Bleu mmmms, his eyes lidded while the djinn works his magic, feeling that massaging warmth basically suffuses his core. "Umm, lemme see if I recall... I believe it's Kar's... Another of my lovers. Should be due any day now, to be honest... You'll, ah... Probably see me pregnant fairly often," he admits, his cheeks flushing. Listening to his lover's other words, though, makes Bleu open his eyes fully. "M-marry, did you say?" He wasn't aware there was anyone left who still did that. At least, anyone beside himself. "It's not old fashioned... It's terribly romantic," he breathes. "I get you, though... Every time I've had a child, I have that yearning to raise them, but... c'est la vie. Such is life now. I think that only happens in nanite bubbles, though, so for all we know..." He trails off.

Richard smiles softly at his Magnus meetup acquaintance turned one night stand partner turned lover, drinking in both his reaction and his words. "Ah, I think I've seen him around. Not sure I've met him though. Knowing what you do when I'm not looking, it really doesn't surprise me that you're getting knocked up rather often." Hold on, is it just the sunset, or... no, he IS blushing! "Really, is that the one thing you're bashful about? Whether or not they're getting raised by you, you made a life. That's something to be proud of, in my opinion." The light force of his fingers on flesh travels lower on Bleu's body, beginning to work his furred legs into the massage. "Yeah... I think Anbessa and Luna might be doing that, actually. Not sure if they have kids, but I'm pretty Luna's exclusively with him." He stops for a second, looking off to the side. "On second thought, maybe it's the idea of kids that I miss. I don't think I'm gonna trek across the continent to find out if it's possible to raise a child the normal- used to be normal way."

Bleu mmmms, stretching a little bit as Rashad's hands start to work down over his shaggy-furred hips and thighs. "W-well, yeah... A little bashful," he admits. "I've birthed or sired over 10 children, not all of whom I keep in contact with. But I love them all deeply." He fixes his gaze on the djinn. "You want to be someone's one and only, though, huh? Gods, I do understand that more than most. I didn't use to have so many mates..."

Richard nods, with a not quite smile or frown of an expression stretching his lips. Ten kids. "C'est la vie. Not much anyone can do to raise ten kids in a hands-on way. At least you didn't leave them like orphans." He works his way down further to the thighs, finding and easing out knots in the muscles. Something about this topic is making him tense. He's equipped for sore muscles. Sore subjects... well... "You don't have to go on if this is bringing up bad memories."

Bleu mmms, closing his eyes again. "Eh, it doesn't bring up bad memories anymore," he declares. "I'm over it... Just..." He strokes his goatee. "Wondering if our path might lead to… But I mean, we did practically just meet..." He's starting to backpedal now.

Richard guessed correctly, it seems. There's a history behind Bleu's statement. That can come out in its own due time. Richard will tend to more current matters for now. "We *did* practically just meet. We ought to keep going, make sure we're more than fuckbuddy friends before we commit." There's also another, less serious reservation Richard has about walking down the aisle with this lovely cinema nerd. "Besides,I think we've actually got a metric for whether we're taking it slow enough. Marrying another guy would be the #2 spot on that list I keep bringing up," he glibly offers, knuckles and fingertips digging into and working out the stiffness of the satyr's leg muscles.

Bleu mmms, bleating softly once again as Richard's fingertips dig into his muscles, working out those kinks. It's the best massage he's gotten in years. "Mmm, well, I think we're certainly past fuckbuddies," he murmurs, "But I think you've got a good idea there. Admittedly, I do have a tendancy to rush into things..." he laughs, and then sighs. "It's good to have one of us be the level-headed half of the pair."

Richard continues down to Bleu's calf muscles now taking one in both hands to knead like dough. Dough usually doesn't have a shin bone in it, but that analogy is going to have to do. He's kind of surprised that Bleu didn't ask what #1 was on that list. On further reflection, it might have been a mutual respect of privacy. "Yeah. Most of the time I am, I guess. If I'm being honest, it's probably a holdover from before I turned into a regenerating shapeshifting sex machine," he snorts, reflecting on how much he had to work himself up to get out of the human enclave and see Fairhaven. "I try to think things through to their results, but consequences are a lot gentler to me in-bubble. I suppose it would be nice to have something else keeping me grounded. Focusing on what matters."

Bleu nods, sighing to himself as Richard rubs his narrow calves, the satyr wiggling his ankles. "Oooh, yes, right there. Yeah, that feels good..." He's enjoying this entirely too much, alright. "See, I'm very much the opposite... I'm flighty, to the extreme. Rush headlong into relationships, and I suppose that's why I now have so many lovers. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I tend to fall hard and fast. I handwave it away as being polyamorous, which is true. But in the early days I had a 'husband', so to speak. Eh..." He shrugs. "That was a long time ago."

Richard looks away from his work on his lover's lower legs. Sounds like the symptoms of a broken heart. "Well... you don't have to handwave it away. You're a bachelor now. One of these days you're gonna find a favorite, whether or not it's me. Plenty of fish in the pond, and plenty of op-" Oh god dammit. "Aaand I'm repeating myself again. Point still stands. I think there's someone out there who's a great match for me, and I don't see why that wouldn't be true for you." He switches calves, attending to the other leg now. "Just take it slow. On an individual level, I mean. Anyone can be a one-night stand. It's the morning after that matters, and whether they call you up again later."

Bleu's voice betrays no such feelings... But his words do tell that story. The satyr has so many 'mates' because he's trying to replace his Deke, with varying degrees of success. Bleu shrugs, and sighs. "I mean, I do think I'd like having a one and only again, but I've done made so many connections with other truly wonderful people that this time around it would be more of an open marriage, as they say. But, this is a more relaxed time, so maybe that's no longer as big an issue as it once was." He finally smiles down at Richard. "You called me up again. I was really pleased when you did, too. I wasn't sure just *what* you remembered of our one night stand, you were so drunk, but clearly I must've made an impression, eh?"

Richard, now down to the... whatever the foot equivalent is on an ungulate, plies and prods at the ligaments just above Bleu's hooves. "Open marriages do seem to be the norm, when and where they exist. That example I gave earlier with Anbessa and Luna is... hell, Anbessa's job in the Zephyr directory is 'mercenary/breeder for hire,' and that's the closest to a conventional marriage that I'm aware of." Without much in the way of muscle down here and the hooves being a mite too hard for a massage, Richard settles for what he's done so far

"For what it's worth, *we* think you're a cute couple," one of the pillows says. Another, across the headboard from there hisses, "Shut up! You're ruining the- shit. Too late."

Bleu finds himself atop an improvised mattress of folded towels inside the spa section of the tea retreat. Cave walls stretch overhead in a wide arch around steaming pools of water, some only ankle-deep, some deep enough to swim in. "Well," Richard says, shrugging with his arms held wide, "you guys made a convincing bedspread while it lasted. Several other pillows tanukify and walk away. Others turn out to be balled up towels. "I'm surprised he was under for as long as he was. Seriously, guys, you were MVP props for that. You didn't have to- "

"We *wanted to,*" a tanuki claims, "now you two lovebirds spend some time in the onsens and unwind, yeah?"

"Okay," Richard starts, "so obviously most of that genie stuff was an illusion. You kinda glossed over when I looked at you as that snake form, and when I said my hands were warm... you just went with it."

Bleu had been just in the midst of enjoying himself as Richard worked the tendons and hocks above his hooves. That's a good spot, alright. He sighs, listening to his lover talk about marriage... Then his eyes shoot open and he sits up when that unexpected voice speaks just beside his left ear. "Gah! Oh... It's you guys!" Being called a cute couple makes him blush, however, even if the randy goatman is inclined to agree. But then he realizes he's no longer in the garden. "Where on earth... How did I get here?" He asks. "Was that all a dream?" But then Richard answers his question, though the satyr just kind of nods. "Wow... That felt SOOO real..."

Richard clears his throat. Thank fuck, he's taking it well. "For the record, I did NOT mean to do that. The only real part about that was the chocolate bar. I think. I don't know *exactly* what you saw, but I told you there was a bed out in the garden, and it seems like you believed it," Richard says, red faced as he has been for the last few minutes. His whole body is red, but we're focusing on his face. "'You are limited only by your imagination,'" he says, returning to the accent he put on for the duration of that unintentionally aided role play. His bangled hands drag over his face with a prolonged exhalation. "No harm done, I hope. I legit forgot that the lamias could do that."

Bleu hmmms, looking his lover up and down. A grin tugs at the edges of his lips. "Dude... That was quite relaxing. I feel more refreshed now than I did when we got here... Though I suppose perhaps I should be concerned what I talk about when I'm under hypnosis. I don't think I'd normally go on and on about marriage like that... Sorry, Love." He looks away for a moment. "Anyway... Shall we get a nice soaking in? It'll be the perfect finish for such a great massage..."

Semi-consensual sex and a hot tub? Where have I heard that before? "Yeah. Now *I* need to relax. Having that level of responsibility is goddamn harrowing. You would have believed literally whatever I told you," he confesses, standing off of the 'bed' with a huff. He turns around and points at Bleu. "The one thing I want you to believe from all that is that you've got plenty of time to find someone if you *are* thinking of settling down. Say what you want about how you were under the influence, but shit. that topic of conversation came from somewhere." He finds a steaming pool hewn out of the cave floor which has a ledge for sitting inside comfortably. "Need to change into something with less muscles to be full of tension..."

Bleu frowns slightly as Richard speaks. "Oh... Oh, I'm sorry." He stretches some, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "I'll take my time, though," he replies. "Even though I doubt it'll come to much." He shrugs, then starts to climb down into the pool with his friend.

Richard waves his hand at the apology. “Thanks, but... hell, correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you're fine with it. I should've been more careful with my shifting, that's all. Speaking of..." He starts scrolling through a list on his comms. He mutters to himself as he manipulates the menu. "Let's see... No, no, also no...Too fat...That one's got no muscles, but it's a literal skeleton... Hair's too long on that one... That one can't undress..." After a few more seconds of scrolling, he shrugs and says, "Heck, may as well not be solid." Having finally made up his mind, he...starts to become transparent. Over the course of a few seconds, his features all blur together and become transparent, not unlike a certain jello-snake scientist. Once fully jellied, Richard flows into the onsen and ends up in a seated position.

Bleu doesn'take his eyes off Richard as the other man turns to literal goo. Or gel. Take your pick. She lowers himself into the water, his little tail flitting, though as soon as he gets settled he changes as well, to that sexy aquatic form Richard knows so well. "So... You know, I think the tanuki here think we're dating or something... Are we?" He looks over at the gel with a smirk.

Richard glances over towards the mer-hermaphrodite as he settles quite literally upon the seat. "Pretty sure we are," he states, matter of factly. "I mean, I brought you out to dinner, I proposed we have a 'more than friends and possibly more than that' relationship, and we fucked. Passionately. If that's not a date, I'm not a gel. Or goo. I don't remember which one I went with." Looking down, he can see his own legs below the surface. "I think it's gel." He leans back against the rim of the hot spring, sighing in relaxation. This is hydrating as heck. He should do this more often. "And what a date it's been."

Bleu mhmms, resting his arms behind his head. "I thought as much." The mer giggles. "It has been a date to remember. I don't think I've had one so passionate and sexually satisfying in awhile." His tail swishes through the water. "The only question is, when are you gonna introduce me to the parents?"

Richard had been leaning back with his eyes shut. They snap open. Really should have been expecting that question to come up at some point. He blinks away the surprise and sits up straight. "Well... whenever, I suppose. I'd like to give them some advance notice, though." Let's see, how would this even work... "They're not coming out of the enclave any time soon. That's my impression, at least. We could, uh... no, you're kinda drippy. We might not be allowed in. They could meet us at the cordon, I guess?"

Bleu looks over at Richard with a grin. "I'm drippy? Is that an insult?" He laughs. "Anyway, if you're worried about me being a bad influence, I can go as a human... A *fully dressed* human. You've seen my human form. I look like a 19 year old..."

Richard shrugs his slimy shoulders. "No insult intended. You're always wet and ready, that's all. Might pose an issue to the 'keep your hands and bodily fluids to yourself' rule for visitors." Bleu's offer is very accomodating. There's one other hitch, however. "...Since fucking when have you owned pants?" Richard chuckles. "That's news to me!"

Bleu harrumps loudly. "You haven't looked in my closet. I actually do own clothes... I just never wear them. But I can make exceptions. I do think going as a human would probably be for the best, though. They may take issue with my apparent ag, but I don't know." He sighs, sinking a little more in the water. "I'm not as drippy when I'm human, also..."

Richard quite literally slides around the circumferance of the pool to Bleu's side. "Yeah, I haven't . I'm just messing with you. In all seriousness, I think my mom would be thrilled to meet someone who's been face to face with a god. She's a..." He pauses as he realizes he should probably explain in detail. "Well, she was born Jewish, then ended up as a Unitarian. Pretty much freestyle religion, if you've never heard of it. Pick and choose what you want to believe, and do your research on any religion that's interesting. She's more of a Buddhist than anything else right now, I think."

Bleu turns to look at Richard, mmming as the gel explains his mother's beliefs. "Eh, well... You think that's something… I was raised Protestant, and now I'm full blown Greco-Roman pagan, which is about the craziest shift imaginable." He laughs. "Not that I'm exactly fully practicing. I don't sacrifice bulls to Zeus or any of that shit." His tail swishes through the water again.

Richard raises a viscuous eyebrow at both of those claims. "Ain't that crazy. There's fuckin'... two or three other pantheons with representatives around here. The world is what's crazy. If someone told me that Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses were in a perpetually tied game of rock-paper-scissors somewhere, I'd consider that they might not be lying." He leans in on Bleu, sinking into his shoulder slightly. "With the world as it is, Zeus is probably too busy getting busy to care."

Bleu mmms, laying his head back against the side of the pool. "Mmm, never met Zeus, but you're probably right... As it is, though, Dionysus is my patron deity now... So let's pour one out for the party god, eh?" He has nothing to pour out at the moment, unfortunately. "Still, back on topic...I'll try my best not to embarrass you, Love..."

Richard sighs contentedly on Bleu's shoulder. Maybe this will go well after all. "They're pretty open minded. Just keep those pants you claim to have on and it should be fine. Be good and we can go to my place afterwards, and I'll help you out of 'em." Wait, did he already tell Bleu about- No, no he didn't! Duh. "Oh! Started renting a place in New Dawn. The rent at The Painted Gel is super cheap. It's got a nice, open setup, great view of the city..." he trails off.

Bleu smiles, resting against his gooey lover. "Don't worry... I know how to keep my clothes on." When Richard mentions having his own place, the mer grins. "Mmm, now I can't wait to see it... I suppose we'll start leaving toothbrushes at each other's apartment, huh?" His voice is lightly teasing.

Richard gooily grins at the idea of having regular company. "Sounds like a plan. Bring friends if you want. Plenty of room," he claims. Several seconds pass quietly as he contemplates... something. Something kinky, IF the geometry of it works out right. "That reminds me, what floor is your apartment on?"

Bleu looks over at Richard, his brow cocked. "It's on the roof," he replies, "Why do you ask? Something crazy in mind?"

The roof? Shit. So much for doing it at his place. "...Thinking of a sexy way to show you that Halloween costume. I *might* need a stepstool if I'm gonna pull that plan off at your place," Richard sighs. "Still think you'd like it. Just have to find somewhere else." One of his wandering hands flows behind Bleu and then back around, palming the further of the fish-person's funbags.

Bleu mmms, shifting some as Richard gives him a fondle. That's always nice. "I bet I would... Why do you show me at your place, hmm? I'll find it sexy, and then we'll bone. At this point, I think I'm safe in that prediction..." He smirks, and laughs.

Bleu tenses slightly as his nipple leaks milk thanks to Richard's teasing. Raising a hand to his neck he manipulates the odd flaps of flesh, exposing the bluish-colored, slightly oily-looking flesh within. "Gill slits. Both sides of my neck. Alas, this is my only water-breathing form... As an aside, these gills are crazy sensitive, and if you do it just right, you can just about cause me to orgasm by teasing them..." He blushes. "Anywho... Isn't the universe already our bitch?"

Richard massages the mer's mammary with his gel grabber. That little squirt of milk makes its way into his mitt, which is an odd sensation to say the least. Not unpleasant, but similar to taking a sip of warm sweetcream through a mouth that only existed for a microsecond. "Your gills?" The gel asks. "Well... now I'm getting another crazy idea. This is more of a bath than a jacuzzi. Let's see what I can do about that." The semi-solid shapeshifter's form starts to slump and lose its shape, flowing into a seat-like shape beneath and behind the mer-herm, draping across his shoulders above the surface of the water. "Miranai's slutty maid daughter seemed to like this. Mind giving me a second opinion?

Bleu isn't entirely aware of what Richard is doing at first. "Mmm, I like your crazy ideas," he murmurs, with his eyes closed, as the gel re-forms under and behind his body. "Well... I mean... Am I sitting on you? It feels pretty nice..."

Richard says, "Kind of. Don't worry, this is nothing *too* crazy. Just that I only had two hands to massage with when I was doing that genie thing. Now I don't need to bother with hands." The gooey gentleman conforms to the confused mer's body, wrapping around his torso like a belly-less one-piece swimsuit, albeit adapted for his baby bulge and broad aquatic tail. True to his word, the spa-warmed slime man starts a slick shiatsu session on the seated former satyr. Pulses of pressure rise in rapid repetition up the back muscles of the bathing sea-babe, and kneading waves wash over his shoulders. Just behind his shoulder, he would hear, "How's this?"

Bleu ohs, his eyelids fluttering as the gel gal flows around his body, murring happily as that shiatsu starts up. Making muscles the mer didn't even know he had loosen up and relax. "How's this?" he asks back, "It's great. Ooh... Right there, small of my back...Ohhhh..." He luxuriates in the sensations.

The still genderless gel goes for the spot specified at the base of Bleu's spine. Richard's... well, it would be his abs if he was still in a humanoid shape - push and prod at the strong swimming muscles that anchor Bleu's tail to his body. Though, Bleu can't see the goo's head, he soon feelsthe man's mushy lips brush the side of his neck and the gills gathered there.

Bleu's breath catches in his throat. There it is. That's it. Those tender, sensitive flaps. Bleu sighs, and he gently squirms in Richard's gooey embrace. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he whispers.

Richard's warm, humid breath rolls over those fishy flaps, followed swiftly by his taffy-like tongue teasing along the length of a lower slit. Tastes like tuna and tequila... "Mmm... Give me a ring on the comms whenever you want goo massage..." He mutters, shifting some of his mushy mass up to Bleu's neck to accompany the nuzzling. Tendrils of the translucent man roll over the rear of his neck in a comforting collar.

Bleu's head lolls back, and he shivers as Richard's tongue glides along his sensitive gill-slit. "Fuck, man... I'll give you a ring on the comms every damn day of the week... I'm stuck on you, I think." The mer grins toothily, as he feels his lover spread around his neck.

Richard pulls even more of himself off of Bleu's back to form a pillow under his partner's head. He looks down at himself. Most of the mass is up near Bleu's head and shoulders, with a single strand of slime extending to the area where the ass would be. It prods and plies at the mer-person's lower back. Meanwhile, two pseudopod-like hands are perched on his plump pectorals, gently hefting his breasts. Richard rubs the outside of the gills with the section of himself that's surrounding the back of Bleu's neck in a semi-circle. He withdraws portions of it to place his lips and tongue on the tender flesh underneath those flaps. "Stuck on *me*?" He quips. "Ironic..."

Now that's a nice pillow. Bleu was already comfortable, but now even more so. His tail swishes, slowly, as Richard continues to rub his lower back. "Ooof... Well, yes, I am *literally* stuck on you right now..." He grins, rolling his shoulders a little and then settling back comfortably. "Gotta ask... Do you prefer me with or without noticeable breasts?"

Richard hums thoughtfully, sending a shiver through his entire slimy self as his caresses continue. "Can't say I'm not a fan of a good set of tits," he states, "but hearing a man's voice along with them is a little confusing. Put 'em on whenever you feel like it." A brief flow of Richard's body twirls around the tips of Bleu's tits. "You're not thinking of getting rid of them *right now,* are you?"

Bleu shakes his head gently. "Mmm, no, don't worry. In point of fact, I actually can't individually influence my breast growth. I really should look into splashing out the cash for greater control of my nanites sometime..."

Richard hums once more. "'S worth it. Wish they were still doing that 'mako for surveys' program," he muses, still swirling slime around those supple breasts in addition to the light squeezes he's pressing onto the lower back and upper neck, "I heard Zephyr had to cut that part of their company. Too bad." Now that Bleu's head is fully settled back into that improvised pseudopod pillow, some of Richard's slime can creep around to the front of his fishy lower body. "Still have a little bit left over from that, if you're trying to ask for a Christmas gift."

Bleu opens his eyes, and hmmms. "Is that an offer, Lover Boy?" He grins, showing his pointed teeth again. "I mean, I wouldn't say no. It is rather shocking that I haven't bothered with pursuing the matter before now, though, considering how much I enjoy changing my shape at the drop of a hat." He sighs happily. "About Zephyr, though... They have been experiencing downsizes recently..."

Richard's head, which had been held above Bleu's shoulder, turns to meet those eyes. "Maybe it is," he teases. "I know I have fun mixing and matching." His eyes wander down to that grin. He blows out a whistle... or tries to. His partly liquified lips put forth a sputter at first before becoming the intended sound. "I'd say the most shocking thing here is those chompers. Yikes." Those creeping tendrils continue to encircle Bleu's waist. "Maybe the downsizing is a good sign. Could be that people are running the city more and more, not the company."

Bleu suddenly remember how intimidating his smile is now, and he stops grinning. "Mmm, maybe you should help me with the mixing and matching, huh? Guess it would take me to the next level..." He sighs again, enjoying the sensation of Richard around his waist. "You're correct, though. A new city government has been in the works for past couple years. Zephyr was heavily involved in the early days, in order to help it get off the ground, but it's been taking a less hands-on approach. I think they've been estimating that Fairhaven could be finally back to more-or-less normal by 2025..."

Richard smiles and nods. "It's the least the company could do. This is their mess," he claims. "I attended the fundraiser for that new police station a couple of months ago. We're definitely making progress. Magnus is... hell, I don't know what group he's with, but he's one of the most important people in town. Pretty sure we were supposed to have Michael J Fox on a hoverboard a few years back and not a fennec fox on a jetpack, though..." His head sinks lower, returning to tongue the part time goat's gills. The waist encircling extrusions also begin to encroach on Bleu's cunt, starting to stroke the scaly lips.

Bleu lets out a happy gasp of pleasure when Richard tongues at his gills, his whole aquatic body shuddering lustfully. The stroking at the mer's cunt, however, geta a bigger reaction, as Bleu squirms fitfully and moans. "Mmm, a 'Back to the Future' reference... I like your taste, yes. Th- think it makes me even more attracted to you..."

It seems the mer-maphrodite wasn't expecting those tender touches on their twat. Richard continues to gently stroke Bleu's gills, tease his titties, and massage his muscles even as he starts to caress that cunt in earnest. he pulls his mouth away from the nautical necking to speak. "This whole evening was my treat. First rule of entertaining is to know your audience."

Bleu had indeed not expected that, but if his happy moans are any indication, he's quite enjoying the teasing from the gel. His tits and gills being stimulated is lovely, too. "Mmm, well, you're getting to know me *quite* well. Really turns me on..." He wiggles some. "Get's me all hot 'n' bothered..."

Richard swirls around Bleu's body, slowly deflating the pillow behind his head into a simple pad to free up more mass. His head repositions to be in front of Bleu's own. "Getting to know you inside and out," he says, smirking down at the solid sea-person. Now entirely encasing Bleu's upper body save for his arms and head, Richard starts flowing a piece of himself into his lover's lower lips. It takes a familiar shape, throbbing and gently thrusting as shapeless goo strokes the stiff counterpart above it. "Don't be afraid to bite," he whispers, leaning down to resume his rendezvous with the other fish-scented slits on his fellow shapeshifter, "I taste like cherry."

"Cherry?" Bleu asks. "Huh..." He doesn't get long to contemplate the flavor of his lover, however, because suddenly his pussy is being thrust into, while his own slim cock is being stroked off, and he sighs happily. Yes, Richard's a keeper. "You better fuck me here again, babe..."

Richard shimmies the entirety of his slimy self as he settles into a rhythm, rocking his... he doesn't really have hips, but the thrusting is doing its thing. Slowly at first. The gel conforms to his lover's torso, touching everything, moving in unison with him to mash itself against everything from the mammaries to maleness. There's little doubt that he's doing exactly what Bleu told him to do as his turgid length touches every inch of the mer-herm's interior. He'd tell him a s much if his mouth wasn't making out with the mer's sensitive neck slits.

Bleu is rendered immobile by that manipulation of his gill slits. He wasn't kidding when he revealed how sensitive to touch they are. It makes him all weak in the knees (if he had knees). He huffs and squirms, unable to do anything but moan as the goo person starts fucking him silly.

The way his partner went almost limp from this full-body fucking almost feels unfair to Richard. At first he wonders if Bleu is bullshitting him, faking it for some reason. Then he realizes what's really happening. Bleu's body is sensitive to liquids. He's halfway to being one. Hot damn. And he only entered this form to make massaging him easier. He can't help but smile smugly at the unplanned effects of a shift working in his favor, as opposed to the extraneous entrancement of the snaky shift a while back. It breaks into a lecherous grin as he hears the man's moans from licks at his
gill slits. This is too easy. He's gonna have to let Bleu get him drunk sometime to even the score.

Bleu is always more than happy to get someone drunk, so that's definitely bound to happen sooner, rather than later. In the meantime, however, he's too busy being turned into a quivery pile of aroused fish-boi and leaking milky-white pre-cum thanks to Richard's combined jerk-off session and filling Bleu's fishy cunt. He'd call it an unfair advantage, if he wasn't enjoying it so much.

Richard keeps his jello-y self jiggling. Fishy-boy's fluids flow into his form, creating discolored clouds wherever they come into existence. He can tell there's something new inside himself. He can almost taste it. The taste on his lips of alcohol and aquatic life overwhelms all others as he kisses and nuzzles into Bleu's erogenous gills, very nearly forcing his fluid form through them. The only participation from the insensate sea-man is the spasming of his cunt muscles and squirming of his body. It might be unfair, but an advantage like this makes Richard feel powerful. He thrusts harder. Faster.

Bleu is not one to argue about his boyfriend's power. (Wait, have they graduated to 'Boyfriends'? The merboi guesses so.) Those harder thrusts make his squirm, as more of his pre leaks out, his arousal steadily growing. When he cums, he's going to cum hard, most likely. And Richard's manipulation of his gills certainly is going to help with that.

Richard's rigid rod is ramming harder and harder into the mer-man he's holding down - not that he'd need to. Honestly, this feels a bit *too* one sided. His hectic hammering slows to a stop, huffing and puffing as his head hovers just above his lover's. (If we're not all the way to 'boyfriends' yet, meeting the parents would make it official.) Once he sees Bleu's eyes unglaze long enough to look into his own, he would say, "Hold me close," no, *beg,* "please." If Bleu is still too shaken from the severity of the sex, Richard would help him into the requested hug.

Bleu mmmphs, his eyes refocusing on his gooey lover, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around his gelled lover. "Hold you," he coos, his faculties clicking back into place, "Of *course*, my Love." He smiles, and holds Richard, and presses a kiss to pliant lips.

Richard accepts that kiss in a heartbeat, hellish teeth having no effect on his hesitance. It probably helps that he's literally liquid as well and doesn't have to worry about wounds. The thrusting, too, returns to its fever pitch as Richard fearlessly lets his tongue into his lover's mouth. He humps for all he's worth, trying to get back to that peak of pleasure again. Having Bleu clawing at his back spurs him forwards, and not out of pain. This form hardly feels it.

Bleu does inadvertantly let his claws dig into Richard's back, but of course, he's too distracted. All that thrusting has driven the mer to the edge, and he can't hold back any longer, as his firm rod erupts with thin, milky cum all over Richard. It's not nearly as thick as when he's a satyr. His cumming doesn't stop his passionate, hungry kissing.

Richard grunts at the sudden sensation of cum flowing into him. Even though it's going straight into his stomach, he can taste it. Like seawater, but sweeter. The passionate, cherry, salt, and liquer flavored kiss. The sheer feeling of rubbing against everything from chin to groin on the former satyr. The spasming of his cumming cunt and tensing balls. It's too much for him to bear as well, and he finds himself cumming in time with his (You know what? Let's just say it.) boyfriend. He moans a long and lustful moan into the mer's mouth, just barely having the presence of mind to grope at Bleu's gills as he does.

Bleu had begun to return to full awareness, until Richard gives his gills another good groping, and fishy boi lets out a pleasured yip, his head tipping back and tongue hanging out of his mouth. His one weakness in this form. He rides out Richard's climax, huffing and grunting rather lewdly, unable to articulate a rational thought as the two hermy 'men' climax together. Yes, boyfriend sounds about right.

Hearing Bleu's yip almost throws Richard off, until it trails into a lewd moan. He pulls himself tight against the blissed-out mer-boi, moving with surprising stiffness for one so fluid until he finally comes down from his cumming. When it's over, he breaks the kiss and seems to lose all cohesion, becoming a shapeless blob in the water for a few seconds before he can gather himself into a panting, mostly human-shaped lump sitting next to Bleu on the bath's submerged bench. "Stupid question," he asks, turning towards his boyfriend, "was it good for you, too?" The smile on his face is a bit too cheeky to be from the post-coitus high.

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog

2019-12-31T22:16:47Z

Slippery Richard: Added link to the next rplog.

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog

2019-12-31T22:15:54Z

Slippery Richard: Created page

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

With mentions but not appearances of
*[[Anbessa]]
*[[Luna]]
*[[Magnus]]
*[[Aava]]
*[[Miranai]]
*[[Kar-dragon]]

And the misuse of [[Fenris]]'s property

=Date=
Late November-early December 2019

Set a few weeks after [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty]]

=Log=
It's been a few weeks since that first drunken tryst that Richard had with a certain satyr. Everything except his memory tells him that it was some of the best fun he's had in months. That's not to say that he remembers it being a *bad* time. Rather, he doesn't remember a damn thing from after that second glass of whiskey. However, it left an imprint somewhere deep in his brain. A night with Bleu = a good time. They met up in the Zephyr lobby on this fine afternoon, and the bleating bachelor suggested a place of the Asian persuasion. Entering through the Teanuki Cafe's front doors to a sight of straw mats and robed servers, Richard asks, "Uh...this is the place, right? I just remembered that there's another one on the other side of town..."

Bleu smirks, leaning on Richard's arm. "Yes. Well, this one I think is the lesser known location. I've only been here a few times, myself. C'mon! Let's get some green tea, or maybe oolong... And then look for the hot springs. That's one of the main draws, after all!" The satyr leans over and gives Richard a peck on the cheek, as a Tanuki server makes their presence known from the direction of the kitchen.

Richard blushes hard at the caprine casanova's kiss on his mutated but mostly human cheek. "Bleu!" He whispers, "There are people here!" His eyes dart around, searching for a stronger excuse and definitely not lingering for a moment on one of the servers' stupendous scrotums, visible even through their exotic uniforms. Salvation makes itself evident as a sign from the heavens. Scratch that, as a literal sign hanging from one of the bright red archways. 'No sex or violence.' "We're their guests, for goodness sake!" He admonishes, halfheartedly, hooking a thumb towards the sign. Meanwhile, a tanuki has approached the odd couple.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Teanuki mountainside cafe. How can I help you?" They ask.

"Table for two, please," Richard says, "And those rules up there, you enforce them, right?"

The racoon-like restaurateur responds, "The second one is non-negotiable. The first one," their hand-paw spreads out and makes an back-and-forth balancing motion as they shrug, "It's before the dinner rush. Just take it to the onsen cave out back if you're going to make a mess. Your table is right this way."

So much for that. Richard pulls out the collar of his silken Promethean under-armor while a team of waiters set up a lap-height table and a pair of cushions.

Bleu grins as he makes his friend visibly redden and uncomfortable. "Don't *worry*, Babe... I can behave." He certainly can. "C'mon, let's sit, drink our tea, then we can go to the cave, alright?" He grips Richard's hand, and tugs him over to the table that is being set up. "I think this place may serve sushi, too, but don't quote me on that..." The satyr sits on his cushion, and grins. "Did I tell you before, Rich, that I find your modesty cute?"

Richard is glad that he's sticking to his hybrid humanoid form instead of that Serene Elf mutation he had last time. Chances are that he's going to be blushing from ear to ear before the evening's end. "I could go for an early dinner if they have it," he says, controlling his breathing a bit better at Bleu's reassurance. He seats himself cross-legged at one side of the table. Ceramic cups and saucers have already been placed for the pair, anticipating an order of some sort of soft drink. "There's a time and a place for that sort of thing. That's all." He claims. Nobody's buying it, not even Richard himself. "And there ought to be a particular *person* for it too, in my opinion." That rang a little bit truer.

A pair of menus are set out on the table, waiting for selections to be made.

Bleu picks up his menu, then looks up at the Tanuki. "Make mine Oolong, please." Then he peruses the menu. "Particular person, you say? Why Richard... Is that a proposal? On the second date?" He smirks, behind the menu so that the hybrid can't see. "Ah, yes, looks like they do serve sushi. I hear their wasabi is quite good..."

Richard starts leafing through his menu as well. "You said we had 'mind blowing' sex while I was blackout drunk that first time," he candidly claims. "Side note, I'd like the details on exactly what happened some time. Right now, though..."

Oh god, this is a big decision. Stall for time. Stall for time!

He folds his menu and offers it back to the waiter's waiting paws. "I'll have what he's having," he says to the server, "and a California roll with soy sauce and wasabi on the side." He leans toward the waiter. "Slice the roll, please. He'd like nothing more than to see me put anything that's that shape into my mouth." The waiter nods in understanding and begins to depart with at least one menu in hand. Richard returns his attention to the satyr who he's suitoring to.

You know what? Fuck it.

"Right now, I feel driven to make this a thing," he states. His voice didn't even waver that much! Nicely done. Oh. Oh, there are those creeping doubts again. Was beginning to wonder if they'd show up. "I don't know if I want this to be an 'I now pronounce you man and person of indefinite shape. You may kiss the whatever they currently are' thing," he stammers, "but hell yes. I'd love to watch movies and chill with you. I mean, you're one of the biggest swingers around town, right? I'm not going to ask you to give that up just for me."

Bleu makes the same order, though his roll remains uncut. Passing his menu to the tanuki, his former smirk has been replaced with a blushing grin. He slides his right hand across the table, to give Richard's hand a squeeze. "You'd really want to make it official? Is that why you asked me where I wanted to go the most tonight?" He really is blushing now. "Aw, Rich... You're so romantic! So I think you can guess my response..."

Richard shuffles onto his knees. "No, it's... I care what you think. I-I'm like this with everyone,
I swear. I asked one of Miranai's slutty maid daughters for permission, for fuck's sake. She had her
ass up in the air and I still-" he stutters to a stop.

That's skirting dangerously close to a rejection, Richie. What are you doing? You said yes. You *feel* like it should be yes. Pull it back.Come on, say something romantic!

He sighs, looks down, and picks up Bleu's hand with both of his own."It might be way too early in the relationship. I might not be 'the one,' but..."

...But what? Spit it out!

"I can't figure out how to say it," he deadpans, drained by his internal not-conflict. He drops Bleu's hand back to the table. Before he truly comprehends what he's doing, his other hand is around the back of Bleu's head and pulling the mythical man closer as he leans across the tiny table to meet him, his other hand still clasped by Bleu's on the tabletop, supporting their weight. Two pairs of lips meet.

A reasonable alternative to saying it. Points for creativity.

Bleu closes his eyes once their lips meet. In point of fact, he finds Richard's awkwardness to be endearing. So he lets his attraction show, with the kiss, and a squeeze to Richard's hand. An understanding. 'I love you.' The satyr has a lot to say, but he's now preoccupied with kissing this handsome man that he's fallen for.

Some of the tanuki staff blush beneath their fur. Some are quietly clapping or catcalling to the couple. One of the women (meaning she has breasts, although she’s still quite obviously a tanuki) whips out a scrapbook and retreats into the kitchen, scribbling frantically as she mutters something about 'shipping charts.' Her possibly cargo-related chattering serves as a prelude to an actual delivery. Richard had stopped moaning into the kiss moments ago. His eyes shot open, and he saw the approach of their server. Gently as he can manage, he breaks the oral embrace. "W-we ought to eat, first."

Something has shell-shocked the shapeshifter. What could it be?

Bleu is left feeling a little breathless, and he nods. "Yes, eat... But I want to argue that it is not too early in the relationship if we both want it." He's going to keep on topic, even while they eat. "If that kiss is any indication, then it's painfully obvious that we both want the same thing..."

Richard, staring into the middle distance, whispers "...something between us, anyway..." He shakes his head, and busies himself using chopsticks to spread tiny clumps of wasabi over his sliced sashimi. "Oh, dammit. This is going to sound so stupid," he groans, not taking his eyes off of the food. he pours a few drops of soy sauce into a tiny dipping dish. "I realized something right in the middle of that kiss."

Bleu bites into his spring roll. "Yeah? What's that? You want to shag me all night? You wanna be my hubby? You want matching tats on our shoulders?" He smirks a bit, likely making Richard squirm. "I mean, after tonight, it's an official thing, right? After that...kiss?"

Richard does squirm a bit at the teasing. "We already went over that. It's official, but not officially official. You know what I mean," he scoffs, "and you already have, like, two tattoos on you." He scarfs down a single slice of the Japanese rolled rice, and tries not to wince at the horseradish spice. That *is* good wasabi! He picks up his tea cup to wash down the flavor, but doesn't bring it to his lips yet. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's so monumentally stupid," he groans again. It's almost like it's so dumb that he can't bear not to share it.

Bleu leans forward, across the table. "What if *I* call it officially official? Also, I have three tattoos. You forgot the one on my penis, didn't you?" He giggles, then leans back on his cushion, calmly sipping his tea. "Anyway, you have to tell me. Mates don't keep secrets from each other, not even stupid ones. So tell me, please..."

"I'm fine with that, as long as it's not *so* official that I have to snub Joy," Richard says, brushing away the thought. "She's had eyes for me for months now, but I only ever seem to see her on Taco Tuesdays. Little pega-fox hybrid. Firecracker's daughter, if you don't recognize the name. And my eyes were shut at the time, so that tat's news to me." He decides against questioning whether Bleu means 'mates' in the Australian sense or in the conventional sense so he can finally release his ridiculous revelation upon the world. "Anyway, I didn't realize I was doing it at the time. That confession was lifted almost word for word from a Daft Punk song." He swigs his cup of oolong like it's the first thing he's had to drink in days, then sets the cup down defeatedly. "Fucking Magnus," he laughs in resignation, "I'm gonna blame him for that."

"Snub Joy?" Bleu scoffs. "My dear, have you seen how many lovers I have? This isn't an exclusive club..." He laughs, picks up a piece of sashimi, and plops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Daft Punk, huh? Good choice. You have very good taste, my love." He picks up his cup, takes a long sip, then sets it down again. "Blame Mag for what? Getting a new mate that loves and adores you?"

Richard fills another cup of tea, still chuckling to himself about the stupidity of his epiphany. "Blame him and *his* good taste in music for worming its way into me pouring my heart out to you. Gotta be subliminal messaging or something." He deftly plucks another piece of his meal from the plate using his chopsticks. A loud sigh escapes him, signaling the end of his giggling. On to more serious matters. "Nevermind. You're more than worth forgiving him for that. And yes, I have. Just wanted to hear you say you were fine with it. Would've felt inconsiderate otherwise."

Bleu sets his chopsticks down, and looks across at Richard. He's serious, too. "Well, then, I can say it now. You're wonderful, and I love you. And yes, when I say mates, I don't mean in the friend sense." He smiles. "And yes, Mag has a funny way of being a matchmaker, eh?"

Richard pops a piece of rolled rice and fish into his mouth. Then another. He swallows. "Love you too," he replies, licking a stray grain of rice from his lips, then puckering their moistened surface towards the satyr to blow a kiss. "Top 500," he adds, raising the teacup to his mouth for a sip. After slaking his thirst once more, he comments, "I'll throw a fit if Magnus doesn't have the keys to the city yet. It seems like he's always organizing *something* to get us all out and meeting each other."

Bleu blushes at Richard's words. His attraction to this man knows no bounds. "Hah, you're right. Though I wouldn't have quite pegged that I'd wind up your pretty boi waifu." The satyr smirks, and finishes off his spring roll. "I had a thought at first that you were the strong, brooding type. The Loner. I'm glad I was mistaken. Anyway..." He pops another piece of sushi in his mouth. "After we're done, we're going to the Cave, right?"

Richard eats the second-to-last piece of seaweed-rolled savory goodness. "Hell, I went out there thinking 'what would I least mind getting stuck as if we're stranded outside the bubble. Versatile, sort of normal, and comes with its own bow and arrows? Serene Elf it is,'" he muses. "Wasn't going for the 'loner' vibe so much as being pragmatic. I mean, yeah, I'm out on my own a lot but that's not a social choice so much as a part of my job." He scoops up the final fragment of fishy food, continuing, "If you want a loner, though, I can be that. Spent more hours than I'm proud of talking to myself in the mirror back in the human enclave." With a gulp, he finally clears his plate. "They told me I could be anything when I grew up. Now I am anything."

Over by the sushi bar, a grumpy old tanuki clears his throat. He nudges a potted bamboo plant with his foot, which molds itself into the shape of yet another tanuki.

"Except inanimate objects, right. I'll take the check for both of us, please." Richard amends. "That reminds me, did Fenris end up wearing a lampshade that night? He was already partway to being a decorative lamp..."

Bleu drains his teacup, and gobbles up his final piece of fish. Pushing his empty plate back, he grins at Richard. "You make an incredibly sexy serene elf, too... But, again, I'm quite biased toward humans and humanoids. Hell, I'm half human myself." He looks over at the Tanuki, then laughs. "Nah, he paused at decorative vase, I'm afraid, but he earned brownie points from me for bearing a motif of satyrs like me..."

The waiter from earlier approaches, having dealt with a few customers who have just started to trickle in with the ending of the day. Between the server's hands, they have the bill in the form of a nanite-formed hologram. Richard transfers some freecred to it, plus a decent gratuity. "It is one of my favorite forms. Comes with a wardrobe for every occasion, too." He drains his own cup, then resumes speaking, "Oh! Remind me to show you what I wore to Mags' Haloween Party later." he stands up, offering his hand to the still-seated satyr. "We were going to go to the cave. There's a gazebo on the way there. We could stop and watch the sunset, or go straight to the hot springs."

Bleu grips Richard's hand, and smiles, leaning against the hybrid once standing on his own two hooves again. "I think watching the sunset with you would be the most romantic thing, ever... Lead me away, dear Knight." He leans against Richard's side, giddy as a schoolgirl.

"The only dragon I recall slaying is that lady who lives near the path to New Dawn," Richard quips, "But if you insist..." The side Bleu is leaning on rapidly grows rigid, bulging with sourceless bulk that only nanites could muster. Richard puts a metallic (?!) thumb through a loop on his Promethean armor. In a single, smooth motion, he withdraws a strap and the upper portion of his attire falls away to reveal... another suit of armor underneath. Polished silver plates shift and settle over an organic green undersuit of living leaves.

Similarly, he whips off his belt. Below the waist, greaves and greenery also form. He kneels, gathering the garments in the crook of his elbow. Then, (ab)using his form's height advantage of nearly two feet on the twinky goat-man, he grunts, grabbing Bleu in his gauntlets for a gallant bridal carry. The suit of literal shining armor feels warm, as if it was out in the sun on a pleasant day. In reality, it's at Richard's body temperature. "I hope you memorized where that fastener is," he teases, tromping his way across the oriental garden towards the gazebo.

Bleu's eyes go wide at his mate's sudden change in appearance. "My oh my! You just know how to be roman-ohhh!" He bleats giddily when Richard hoists him up into the bridal carry. Even more romantic. Where has this knight in shining armor been all his life? "Seriously, Rich... You're amazingly romantic..." He sighs happily, as they clomp over to the gazebo.

Steel-shod footfalls upon stepping stones make the couple's journey across the garden hard to ignore. No doubt there's a tanuki or two tucked in with the tiger lilies. The orange of lily petals and yellow of sunflowers gleam off of Richard's spotless breastplate, joined by the refractions of the sun setting over the Pacific ocean far in the distance. Nearer is the city of Fairhaven itself, landmarks such as Zephyr tower, Silver Fangs Radio, and the Red Court jut above the horizon. Look closely, and you may see mutant and machine alike flitting through the air between them like the pulsing lifeblood of the city.

"Please. You make it easy for me," Richard scoffs at the man in his arms, "I'd wager your alcohol tolerance comes at the expense of being *just* a bit buzzed all the time."

Bleu has to give some thought to that assertion for several moments. "You know... You might have a point. I probably *am* perpetually buzzed. Whatevs, it's awesome." He giggles, looking off to the west, admiring the view. "My, look at that sight... Breathtaking, eh?"

Richard nods along to Bleu's assertion. "It sure sounds like it'd be fun." He follows the easy flirt's eyes towards the city. True to his claim, it takes Richard's breath away. Thankfully we've established that he doesn't actually need it. He stops in his tracks, the momentum of his armor and passenger keeping him going a step further than he intended. He'd question this cafe's business model if they're not selling postcards of this view. "...Damn," he finally manages to say, "which of your gods do we thank for this?"

By now, they're nearly halfway across the garden, at the T intersection where they could either continue towards the steamy caves, stop by the garden's mountainside railing, or detour to the gazebo as they originally intended.

Bleu relaxes his head against Richard's breastplate. "Well, if we're going Greco-Roman, possibly Fauna, the goddess of nature..." He chuckles. "You're one of the first people who doesn't seem to just humor me in my unconventional beliefs... I appreciate that."

Richard cranes his head down to plant a kiss on Bleu's forehead. "I care what you think," he reassures, "and besides, Artemis has a temple just uphill from the cafe. Who am I to question any of it when there's a slice of divinity right here, dear?" Contented sighing escapes him as he drinks in the vista. "This is too perfect," he wistfully announces. His motion resumes, the loping gait of this champion of nothing in particular gently rocking the blessed gift he's carrying. "We're going to the gazebo. I want to kiss you until you drag me away to those hot springs."

Bleu sighs at the kiss. This is heavenly. "Mmm, you make a good point... Still..." He looks up at Richard. "It is, isn't it? And this has been the perfect day, no less." His little tail is flitting quite excitedly by now. "And I'll quite happily kiss you for as long as you want."

The boards of the bridge to the gazebo bear no protest to the crossing of both the armored Adonis (cool your jets, Artemis, I didn't mean it literally) and his charge, a testament to the fine Japanese-style carpentry that composes the cafe. Trickling water and the occasional splash of an excited koi are the only other sounds. They are alone here, save for a conspicuously placed statue of a tanuki man. He sits in a meditating posture, his burgeoning belly and ballsack beneath it hanging over his legs. He has his eyes closed, and a smile on his snout speaks to wisdom unbound by worry.

Richard kneels, setting Bleu back upon his hooves. At his full height, Bleu is only a couple of heads taller than the man who carried him. As Richard rises from his knees, however, his height begins to align more with his partner's. They stand nearly eye to eye. You'd need a bubble level to tell which one of them is taller, now. "Kiss me."

Bleu absolutely doesn't have to be asked twice. The satyr throws his arms around this man whom he's fallen passionately in love with, practically melting against Richard's body, and their lips meet. It's practically electric. And the serene surroundings do much to cultivate Bleu's feelings for his handsome knight. They'll kiss, all the while watched knowingly by that statue, as if it's in on some great cosmic plan to draw the two lovers together…

And who knows? Maybe it is. One of them claims to have met a god in the flesh. Richard wishes he could press himself against his lover, to feel that heavenly body, slim and boyish, but undoubtedly a man. It takes little more effort for Richard to will away the protective vestments of this mutation than it does to drop the Promethean armor in the crook of his elbow. The pair of them embrace bodily, wordlessly speaking their desire to each other with dancing tongues. Bleu would feel the only thing between him and Richard's flawless, hairless flesh now is a simple loincloth.

Once he feels that hard outer shell melt away, Bleu presses as close as possible, arms fully encircling the handsome, smooth, flawless man. Naught but a loincloth between them. What had started as a teasing flirtation followed by a drunken one-night-stand was blossoming into something far more, and the satyr honestly couldn't be happier in this moment. Time almost seems to stop, as cliched as that is, but who's complaining? Richard can certainly feel Bleu's erection, which he couldn't less about hiding.

Richard leans in to his lover, although he presses his weight forwards to keep their hips apart. It's a bit of an awkward A-frame arrangement, but it sends a message. His wandering hands, one of them running up into the half-animalistic hairs on Bleu's chest, pausing with a single finger upon the satyr's sternum. Patience, dear. That's not to say Richard isn't feeling frisky himself. His mind forms a devious idea. No, *several* devious ideas to accompany his body's just-beginning reaction to drinking in the feel, the smell, the sound of being so near to someone so close. Let's play roulette.

The lips on Bleu's own begin to feel dry. Chapped. Like they belong to someone who's been out in the wintry forest for days. That roughness spreads into a tickling upon Bleu's upper lip, unmistakably the fuzz of closely-clustered hairs, though his partner's nose still feels hairless and human as it brushes against his own. Slightly different in shape, but still human. Richard's moaning deepens into a rugged growl, and the taste of his tongue has a hint of earthy sweetness... maple syrup, perhaps? That taste and roughness are beginning to fade, however, and something else is taking their place.

Richard still holds him close, his other hand snaked under Bleu's arm and behind his head. He *could* stop Richard here, but what's the next one going to be?

Bleu knows better than to rush it, despite his growing lust and arousal. Waiting is sweeter. He keeps his eyes closed, sensing that his mate wants this change to be a surprise. He won't stop Richard. No, he'll kiss the changing man, until the latter gives him a sign that it's okay to look…

Richard's kiss morphs fluidly into another, his lips regaining some of their moisture as they thin. His voice rises but remains masculine, gaining a faint breathiness to its tone. Bleu's tongue begins to overpower his lover's with ease, though it darts around his just as easily as it too loses girth, tickling the inside of the goat-man's gullet in flicking strokes. On the periphery, Bleu can feel the edges of his tongue brush against expanding canine teeth. They lengthen almost to the point of completely overlapping their counterparts on Richard's lower jaw, but taper to pencil-tip points. As their formation finishes, a hint of sourness and salt fills their mouths. Even that only lasts for a split second as the changes continue.

Richard continues to hold Bleu's lips against his own, cradling his lover with a hand at the back of his head, where the slope of the skull meets the muscle of the neck.

Okay, now his curiousity's getting the better of him. Those sharpened canines are too unusual to ignore. Bleu opens his eyes, to see what shape his lover has taken…

Richard is... outwardly human and slightly effeminate. Nothing has changed from the neck downward. Noticing a break in the rhythym of the kiss, he pulls away. His form settles as he stops his shifting for now. Until he opens his mouth, the most uncanny features about him are the vertical slit pupils of his eyes. "Ssampler platter'ss not done yet, dearest," he lisps, a forked tongue flashing over his teeth. It remains out and wiggles for a scant moment as he inhales. "Unlesss you've already picked your dessert." If no protest is given, he'll move in and resume the lip-locked tongue tango.

Bleu finds the change to be quite attractive, but by this point his attraction to Richard is beyond words. He smiles, and nods. "We'll get to dessert eventually," he replies, quite happy with savoring over the rest of the meal first. No protest comes from the satyr at all as the pair's lips meet once again.

Richard threads that thin tongue between Bleu's lips and resumes exactly where it left off. His tongue swells back to more normal proportions as it twirls alongside Bleu's own. He takes a sharp breath through his nose and moans once more, luxuriating in the feel of the change nearly as much as his lover's embrace. Yet again, Bleu feels the feather-light touch of facial hair. This time, it's thinner than it had been, both in depth and area covered, forming naught but a narrow strip around Richard's hot lips. They do seem to radiate just a minute amount of heat, and as Bleu snogs the shapeshifter, he could swear he tastes a note of exotic spices...

This one also arouses Bleu's curiosity (among other things). His eyes open once again, most intrigued by that exotic taste of spices. What could this be?

Richard backs away once more. His features are high and defined, mostly human but unnatural, otherworldly and magical. Not least of which are his eyes, which glow golden from within. His eyebrows are immaculately groomed arches of black hair. He is bald above that point save for a top-knot ponytail, rising like a minaret in the desert. A dashing goatee which can't be wider than a dozen hairs at any point frames his lips, which are drawn tight in a stern expression.

"You have awoken Rashad, genie of the lamp," he announces both softly and imperiously, speaking with a slightly nasal accent. His serious facade collapses into a smirk not even a second after he finishes speaking. He resumes, "I can also do I Dream of Jeannie, and I think my Robin Williams impression is passable. Your wish is my command." He pauses, then leans back in to Bleu. "I'm sure you wish to kiss me again. That one is a freebie."

Bleu isn't so sure in this moment. "A genie, eh? You've already granted most of my wishes so far. Maybe I should kiss, just one more time, though..." And that he does, though he doesn't close his eyes... Not yet. Perhaps he wants an extra moment to decide. Or maybe he wants to abuse that last 'wish'...

Richard lets his luminous eyes lid over, simply enjoying the moment and the opportunity to tease this horned and horny fellow. He is at their beck and call. They need only signal their intent, and he will comply to the best of his ability. Guessing that free wish was an easy one. The taste of turmeric and tikka masala plays ever so subtly across Bleu's tongue as 'Rashad's' does much the same.

Bleu has made his decision, yes. This form, so exotic and alluring. He likes it. "Mmmph... Th-this one," he manages to moan out, before he's too caught up in the kissing to say anything else. In this moment he's practically worshipping the man in his arms. He wants nothing more than to be with Richard forever.

Richard's whole body flushes with the same heat as his lips. He pulls a quarter of an inch away from the kiss to whisper, "As you wish, master," before kissing Bleu on the cheek... then the jaw, and then several times down the neck as his transformation builds momentum. His shoulders widen and swell with muscle, biceps ballooning, forearms reforming, and pectorals pushing outwards. A dull red color rolls over his skin from head to toe, bringing with it yet another pulse of heat. His entire body feels smooth and warm, practically for a wet sheen to be placed upon it. "You like this sensation, don't you, master?" He breathes. His kissing trails further down, onto the shoulder, over the breast. He plants one final kiss over Bleu's heart, then stands and gazes deep into the eyes of the satyr, one hand draped across each of his shoulders. "The warmth," he says, "the strength and gentleness."

He squeezes firmly enough to hold but not so hard as to restrain. His grip loosens, and begins to drag lovingly down the length of Bleu's arms as Rashad takes a single step backwards. "My fingers dance across your skin as softly as the finest grains of sun-baked desert sand, warmest of all, barely upon the cusp of scalding, but you know they will never cause you pain." He takes one more step, letting Bleu's fingers pass through his own. Now past arms' reach, the djinn crosses his
arms over his swollen pecs. A pair of solid gold rings encircle his nipples, and as his arms move, several seamless gold bangles form at each of his wrists. "What would you have me d-"

He puts a finger up, jangling his bangles with sudden motion. "Actually, one question first," he says, dropping the act entirely. That finger points down past his sculpted abdominals, "I can do poofy pants or like... that wisp of smoke thing for my legs. Do you have a preference?"

Bleu finds himself leaning closer to the djinn, though held firm, yet gently, by the shoulders. As Richard's touch drags down his arms, and his goat-like ears perk to his lover's warm and florid descriptions, he nods, and sighs pleasantly. He knows exactly what he wants Richard to do, but that interrupting question drags the satyr back to reality. "O-oh... Pants, definitely. I like your strong legs..."

Richard crosses his arms again. "It has been decreed," he announces, "I shall wear the poofy pants." At the end of that sentence, the uppermost part of his loincloth changes to a soft, shining cloth
like those found at the far end of the Silk Road. It wraps around his waist as a sash. The rest of the cloth changes as well, encasing his hips before draping down either leg. At their ends, they cinch down upon his ankles. More of the material manifests around his feet, forming a pair of pointed shoes. He stands silently at attention (both euphemistically and otherwise), awaiting his next command.

Bleu claps his hands. Yes, indeed, he likes this. Everything about it. "Ah, well. So... First off, how many wishes have I got, hmm? Traditionally there's only three, but I figure we're probably dispensing with that tradition, right?" He rubs his chin, and steps closer to his lover, running his hand over Richard's bare chest. "On the other hand, my first command might be to fuck me senseless, but sometimes the tease is just as much fun as the end result..."

Rashad stands motionless, save for a twitch of the loins at the hand caressing the beef steak's worth of meat that serves as his pec. "You are limihhh~" He says, the twitch migrating to his face. "Nnf, excuse me-" The nomads camped out on his crotch must be leaving, because the tent there abruptly ceases to exist. It's clear that the main tentpole is gone, and a shift in the wind makes it evident that the site is now entirely barren. He bends over forwards, hands on his knees, and breathes heavily.

"Haah. Hoo. I'm okay. Holy shit. Whew..." He looks over to his no doubt confused master/lover. "No underpants. Silk was..." he breathes heavily, then heaves himself upright again. A fist comes up to his mouth. He clears his throat into it. "Oh man. Sorry about that. I could *not* focus. No way in hell I would've made it over to the hot springs. As I was saying-" He straightens up fully, crossing his arms and fixing his glowing eyes upon Bleu's own.

"You are limited only by what you can imagine. I will grant any wish, and any number of wishes, save for those that seek to take life or restore it to the dead. Make your decision, and I shall make it so."

Bleu gives some thought to his lover's words. "Any wish, save raising the dead. Heh, really old school there." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Well... I want a nice bed, four-poster, with silk sheets, and a satin comforter... Baby blue in color." His description is oddly specific.

Rashad nods. "So it shall be." He waves his hand out towards the courtyard. "I apologize. I could not safely put it closer. If you inspect it, you will find that the sheets are of high thread count. Freshly woven, never washed nor stained before. The bed itself is made of acacia wood, carved and inlaid with patterns resembling grape vines. I assume you desired pillows as well. A multitude of fine feather-down pillows in many shapes and sizes are at the head of the mattress, stacked against the headboard in pillow cases of matching satin and silk."

Bleu claps his hands and grins, then rushes over the bed and hops onto it. "Oooh, it's nice and soft. And baby blue! Just perfect!" He loses himself with hugging some pillows for a few minutes. "Oh, now my second wish, ummm... Well... Yes, how 'bout some romantic music. You know... Sultry, seductive..."

Following his master up to the bedside, the genie nods once more. "Yes, master." He raises a hand beside himself, angled perfectly at 90 degrees at the shoulder, and again at the elbow. Movement seems to surge through his muscles, from the shoulders, through the biceps and triceps, passing through the forearm into his hand. He snaps his fingers once. "From this point, you shall be able to hear music clearly and at whatever volume you subconsciously prefer. It is currently that of a live jazz band performing a medley of music which matches your description." His arm lowers in a single fluid motion, joining the other across his chest. He stoically turns his head to the invisible spot in space. "I believe this is 'Careless Whisper,' performed as an instrumental interpretation." Rashad returns his luminous gaze to the pillow-snuggling satyr. "Is there anything else you desire?"

Bleu hrmms. "Can you hear the music, or just me? I want it to get us *both* in the mood..." He looks up at the sky. "I want you to feed me chocolate, as suggestively as possible. Right here on the bed,
beside me. Then I want a belly rub, followed by some leg rubbing. You know, before we get to the *hot stuff*..."

The djinn lets slip the barest hint of a smile. "Loudly and clearly, master." He seats himself with one leg draped over the edge of the bed and his other bent, sitting half cross-legged on the edge of the bed. "I have in my hand a bar gourmet Belgian chocolate. Close your eyes and I shall lay it on your tongue." Should Bleu comply, Rashad would tenderly place a pinch upon his master's tongue. "If you will permit my opinion, I prefer to have such a delicacy last as long as it can. I recommend you allow each morsel to melt upon your tastebuds, to have every particle to impart its sweetness to you." Again. He leaves his thumb inside the man's mouth longer than strictly necessary. "Feel it melt upon your palate. You hardly even need swallow. Let your own body do the work. Allow me to cater to you." One more. Larger this time. Rashad's fingers are smeared with chocolate that has softened in his heated grip. He leaves his fingers in Bleu's mouth, ensuring none of the sweet is wasted. "Heat. Such a simple thing. You make it without effort, as I grant these wishes without effort." A larger piece still, though Bleu feels this one hanging just at the edge of his lips...

Bleu closes his eyes readily, and tries eat that piece, only to find his lover's fingers in his mouth, letting the sinfully delicious chocolate melt slowly against his tongue. He could get used to this treatment. On the introduction of the second piece, he almost tries to lean up to grasp it with his lips, but refrains, allowing the djinn to hold it as he pleases, apparently teasing the goatman in some respects.

There's a deep "Hmmm" from the musclebound magician. He allows the sugary sweet to fall into the goatman's mouth. "You are a man of taste. This treat is good, but it is plain. You desire something more" Rashad muses, "and I shall provide." There is a momentary pause before he says, "You need not hesitate. Take it from me." Odd. He sounded like he was getting closer as he said that. Nonetheless, Bleu feels the warmth of Rashad's body closing in, and another fragment of the cocoa conjuration at the edge of his lips. In fact, that warmth is *very* close.

Bleu keeps his eyes closed, wanting to keep the surprise complete. He can feel the warmth, has a faint idea, but not conclusive, what it might be. He leans in, takes that bite, and murrrrs.

Once the bait is taken, Rashad moves in. His lips meet his lover's. The chocolate is shared between two mouths, tossed between two tongues. The flavor of cardamom and caraway blends with cocoa as the candy breaks down, melted by the Arabian heat of Rashad's form and the tamer temperatures of the satyr beneath him. That stream of sugar and spice flows naturally down Bleu's throat as the kiss continues.

Bleu mmms, pressing eagerly against Rashad's lips. Quite heavenly. Such exotic flavors, mixed together. Almost intoxicating. The satyr wants... More. It's impossible not to. Rashad is everything he could want, and then some.

Boy, this satyr is eager! Rashad can tell from the thrashing of the tongue in his mouth that Bleu is begging for it. That dunk in the hot tub last time didn't give as much feedback as this closed-eyes kissing session did. All right... what can we do to really rile this Greco-Roman Romeo up? He liked that stand and carry thing back when Richard was playing off of that knight comment. Bleu's just under five feet tall most of the time. This beefcake body is just begging for a boost out of being four-foot-something to cater to what Rashad hopes is one of Bleu's fantasies. The first things Bleu would notice are that Rashad's tongue is pushing even deeper into his mouth. His plush lips feel like they're swelling, and that delightful spice in his saliva is stronger, though not hotter in flavor. Pulling away from the kiss, Rashad, now two feet taller than he had been with proportions to match, tears a chunk from the chocolate bar using only his teeth and moves back in to make out some more.

Bleu is more than eager. It's taking all his willpower to keep his considerable libido in check and not to just grab his lover and shove the other man onto the and fucking him madly right there. Fortunately, satyrs actually *do* have considerable self-control when they need to. Seeing that the djinn has grown, he murrrs, smiling to himself when Rashad leans in with another piece of chocolate. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he murmurs, before pressing into that kiss, savoring the chocolate once more.

Rashad's tongue, now enlarged along with his entire body, dominates the kiss completely. If he's beefy, his tongue is the steak. Slathered in spice and slick with saliva, it tosses about the tab of chocolate like it were a TicTac, but the titan is anything but dominant over his master's mouth. The satyr is the one steering the kiss. Even so, the taller and stronger of the two tosses his lover on top of himself, rolling on the sheets so the satyr lands atop him without breaking the kiss.

Bleu is far too caught up in the kiss to really protest or react when his mate suddenly rolls over on the bed, goatman now on top, where he looks so much smaller than the djinn. Rashad is not far off the mark, though... Bleu does enjoy these size differences...

Now in a more submissive position where he serves somewhat as the satyr gets even more oral affection. He can smell that the goatman's getting juicy down there. Hm. That reminds him that he's currently... unequipped, due to a silken sensitivity issue. Thankfully, he no longer has to support his bulk on the bed. A muscular arm snakes its way down to his lover's labia, caressing his sheath and sack on the way there. One of his heated fingertips finds its way into the slick tunnel, taking full advantage of his enhanced reach to pull Bleu close.

Bleu is still utterly engrossed in the passionate chocolate kiss, so he isn't aware when Rashad's hand sneaks its way toward the satyr's plump, wet folds, but he certainly notices when the djinn strokes over his sheath, and his sack, too, but his biggest reaction comes when his lover's finger presses right into his pussy, Bleu letting out a pleasured bleat.

Yes... he's liking this. Them's the happy goat noises. Rashad releases the candy bar from his grasp in favor of something sweeter. His now-freed hand rises to roam over the shorter man's back, searing Saharan heat suffusing into the satyr's muscles and spine, but true to Rashad's earlier word, the sensation is anything but painful. It's like a hot stone massage from the giant genie's hands.

Bleu oohs, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he finds both his plump folds being toyed with, and the most amazing feeling of warmth and soothing heat spreading into his back and helping to loosen and relax tense muscles. It feels truly incredible, heavenly, in fact. And there are, of course, far more of those happy goat noises to follow, murring bleats that he can't *not* make, because he *has* to express his pleasure somehow.

Like putty. That's the only way to describe it. He has Bleu exactly where he wants to be. Using a massive, muscular man's terrific torso as a body-pillow while his lover is knuckle-deep inside of him. Rashad feels a sense of accomplishment, knowing he's serving his master's wishes so wel- haaang on, no need to let the nanites tell him what to think. Just a role-play. A damn hot one. That pride is warranted even without nanites nudging his mind in that direction. Rashad's single finger inside that slick tunnel is joined by a second. His wrist swivels slowly, sliding the fingers in and out. They flex and fidget, their thaumaturgical owner gauging by the sounds of the groaning goatman whether he's close to a G-spot as his thumb slides over the clit at the front of that slit for good measure. Rashad breaks the kiss long enough to let Bleu breathe, saying, "Allow me to serve you, master," before pucking up again to help bring Bleu even closer to bliss.

Bleu certainly enjoys being served, if it feels this good. Melting back into that new kiss, after his brief breather, his bleating groans start up once again, getting louder and more intense every time his lover's fingers his one of those fabled g-spots. And every time that *does* happen, the satyr's mind goes blank for as long as the spot is being teased, his whole body slumping a little more more like a big ol' ragdoll. He hasn't got a pussy fingering this good in quite awhile. In fact, Bleu can't even remember the last time.

Aaaaand bingo! There they are. Rashad's sexual pseudo-sonar system finds its mark. He'll tell Bleu it's genie's intuition if he asks... if he's coherent enough to even have that question. Pride turns to envy. His partner is having a grand old time. The sights and sounds are starting to get Rashad a bit randy, and he doesn't even have the parts to participate in this pleasure. Envy turns to shame. Rashad's face flushes hot when he realizes that this selfish impulse goes against his own desires, against his own choices. There will always be another time. He was fine with that underwater BJ back at the bachelor pad, and something tells him that he's been in the same position as the one he's got Bleu in right now. Shame gives way to resolve. Rashad doesn't know how. He doesn't even know *if.* He simply feels that at some point, this man has brought him to the heights of pleasure. He'll be damn sure before this evening's over that Bleu will get to go there too. Rolling even further, onto his side, he sends the satyr partly off of him and onto the sheets. With gravity no longer pressing the pair together, Rashad ceases his massage and uses the separation to slide his hand between them, starting to stroke Bleu's stiff, unsheathed shaft.

Bleu finds himself being shifted again, down onto the soft satin sheets, though he's a bit too insensate with pleasure to fully notice. He does notice, however, when his lover's hand comes to stroke his perpetually erect equinoid rod, and emits another bleating moan accordingly. 'Yesss, that's good,' he thinks, while his cock twitches and throbs to Rashad's touch, musky, alcoholic pre pooling up from the cumslit to splatter across his still-round belly and chest.

And Bleu's bell-end is already lubed for his pleasure. This is... wait, why does it smell fermented? Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. Rashad moans for his master's benefit
while the kiss goes on. Down below, his large, heated hand rises up that stiff shaft, brushing over the medial ring and palming its broad head. It's slick up top, but as Rashad slathers the slickening
liquid back down Bleu's dong, he begins to run low on natural lubricant. This is a good start, but from the feel of it, the faun-like mutant is set to go off sometime soon. Even with his more passive approach to the kiss, Bleu's tongue feels like it's not doing much conscious movement. Working with what he has to work the master's wang, Rashad switches hands, plastering the penis with pussyjuice as he resumes his pistoning of the pleasure canal. Much better. With a firm grip like the hot tongs of a Damascus blacksmith, Rashad pumps the bellows of Bleu's balls by basting his manhood with muff fluid in two strokes and then continuing his ministrations in time with his master's pounding heartbeat.

On a normal day, Bleu could wax on and on about the alcoholic content of his cum, and how it's a special gift from his god Dionysus, but at the moment his lips are firmly locked with those of his supremely handsome mate, and his mind is frankly overwhelmed by the great handjob he's getting, as Rashad spreads both the satyr's pre-cum and vaginal fluids all up and down his throbbing penis. Each pump of Bleu's balls also gets another loud bleat, followed by another splatter of pre, though one senses that full orgasm is not far behind.

The genie keeps pumping, plastering the prick with its own pre to keep the lubrication consistent. Down under that, his pussy-pistoning progresses into a three-fingered affair. The rapid breathy bleating (can we take a second to say how cute that is?) signals to Rashad that his master's orgasm is near, and he raises the tempo of his stroke to match, playing his privates like a musical instrument to accompany the sensual soundtrack that Rashad set up earlier. The chords on the medial ring, flare, clit, and G-spot seem to be crowd pleasers in this private performance.

Now that Rashad is thrusting three fingers into Bleu's hot, achingly needy pussy, the satyr's aforementioned cute happy sounds just keep getting more insistent. With the increased tempo, as well, Bleu finally dares to break the kiss, but that's only because he's throwing his head back to moan far louder than before, his balls tensed up to spray satyr seed all over himself and the genie's hands. "Oof. Damn..." is about all he can muster to say.

Boom goes the dynamite. Now that moan... that was musical. Sticky seed shoots skyward, splattering the satyr's stomach and staining the sheets. Some gets on Rashad's hands, but he ignores it until the spasms of jism abate, speeding up even further to keep pace with the spurts and then coming down gently, even delicately as his master's cumshot gradually ceases. When he finally begins to feel that throbbing rod lose its rigidity, he releases his grasp. Contented in his literal handiwork, he rolls onto his back and allows Bleu to do the same. The pleasured Pan-esque person would hear Rashad shuffling off to the side before another bite of Belgian chocolate is dangled above his face in cum-stained hands. "I take it that this way of enjoying chocolate was adequately sensual, master?"

Bleu takes a little bit to recover. He knows in the back of his mind that he'll be good for a round two before too long. But for now he's relaxing on the cum-stained sheets, looking up at the sky and giggling softly. "Mmm, you could certainly say that," he murmurs, before raising his head to reach the chocolate with his lips. Letting it melt on his tongue, he sighs, then immediately licks at Rashad's fingers, tasting his own cum.

"It pleases me to meet with your approval." His forced stoicism cracks into a smile, at least for a little while. It really is hard not to take pride in a job well done. In this case, a double handjob. Rashad offers his other hand and more chocolates, letting Bleu savor both of the sweet and salty flavors. With dinner in the near-distant past and Bleu having concluded the indulgence and intercourse, Rashad rises to a sitting position, then rolls to kneel between Bleu's legs. "Lay back and relax," he states, offering the remainder of the chocolate bar to his partner, "I believe you wished for a belly and leg massage to follow that treat, did you not?"

Bleu takes a bite of chocolate, and sighs happily again. He lays back, alright, and gets incredibly relaxed, still eating that chocolate and fully indulging his craving. "Yes, a belly massage would be great. Big as a fucking cow right now... You'll probably feel little Bleu Jr. kicking, too..." He giggles. "Course, I'm curious what your opinion on being a father is? You know, for the future..."

Rashad complies with the next part of the wish without hesitation. "As you wished. And the sushi earlier," he says, breaking character for candid commentary, "I don't know what it is about that specific type of food that makes it so filling." His heated hands move in wide, counter- rotating circles around Bleu's belly, barely pressing through his muscles and letting the warmth of- that's not a beer belly? All right then. "Oh. Congratulations! May I ask who the father is?" The caress of his crimson fingers becomes that much lighter near the navel of the masculine hermaphrodite, cautious of the new life within. Then comes the question. Those strong hands just barely quiver. Richard sighs. "I don't feel ready for that. Call me old fashioned, but I'd want to settle down before having a kid. Marry someone who knows me as well as I know myself, buy a plot of land, really focus on raising them responsibly instead of kicking yet another feral out into the world. Until then, I'm on a sterility patch." There's a pause which is the other type of pregnant while he continues rubbing the satyr's stomach. "God, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss *kids.* Honest to goodness innocent children, who take at least a dozen years to turn into horny monsters. Practically built the world around them all those years ago."

Bleu mmmms, his eyes lidded while the djinn works his magic, feeling that massaging warmth basically suffuses his core. "Umm, lemme see if I recall... I believe it's Kar's... Another of my lovers. Should be due any day now, to be honest... You'll, ah... Probably see me pregnant fairly often," he admits, his cheeks flushing. Listening to his lover's other words, though, makes Bleu open his eyes fully. "M-marry, did you say?" He wasn't aware there was anyone left who still did that. At least, anyone beside himself. "It's not old fashioned... It's terribly romantic," he breathes. "I get you, though... Every time I've had a child, I have that yearning to raise them, but... c'est la vie. Such is life now. I think that only happens in nanite bubbles, though, so for all we know..." He trails off.

Richard smiles softly at his Magnus meetup acquaintance turned one night stand partner turned lover, drinking in both his reaction and his words. "Ah, I think I've seen him around. Not sure I've met him though. Knowing what you do when I'm not looking, it really doesn't surprise me that you're getting knocked up rather often." Hold on, is it just the sunset, or... no, he IS blushing! "Really, is that the one thing you're bashful about? Whether or not they're getting raised by you, you made a life. That's something to be proud of, in my opinion." The light force of his fingers on flesh travels lower on Bleu's body, beginning to work his furred legs into the massage. "Yeah... I think Anbessa and Luna might be doing that, actually. Not sure if they have kids, but I'm pretty Luna's exclusively with him." He stops for a second, looking off to the side. "On second thought, maybe it's the idea of kids that I miss. I don't think I'm gonna trek across the continent to find out if it's possible to raise a child the normal- used to be normal way."

Bleu mmmms, stretching a little bit as Rashad's hands start to work down over his shaggy-furred hips and thighs. "W-well, yeah... A little bashful," he admits. "I've birthed or sired over 10 children, not all of whom I keep in contact with. But I love them all deeply." He fixes his gaze on the djinn. "You want to be someone's one and only, though, huh? Gods, I do understand that more than most. I didn't use to have so many mates..."

Richard nods, with a not quite smile or frown of an expression stretching his lips. Ten kids. "C'est la vie. Not much anyone can do to raise ten kids in a hands-on way. At least you didn't leave them like orphans." He works his way down further to the thighs, finding and easing out knots in the muscles. Something about this topic is making him tense. He's equipped for sore muscles. Sore subjects... well... "You don't have to go on if this is bringing up bad memories."

Bleu mmms, closing his eyes again. "Eh, it doesn't bring up bad memories anymore," he declares. "I'm over it... Just..." He strokes his goatee. "Wondering if our path might lead to… But I mean, we did practically just meet..." He's starting to backpedal now.

Richard guessed correctly, it seems. There's a history behind Bleu's statement. That can come out in its own due time. Richard will tend to more current matters for now. "We *did* practically just meet. We ought to keep going, make sure we're more than fuckbuddy friends before we commit." There's also another, less serious reservation Richard has about walking down the aisle with this lovely cinema nerd. "Besides,I think we've actually got a metric for whether we're taking it slow enough. Marrying another guy would be the #2 spot on that list I keep bringing up," he glibly offers, knuckles and fingertips digging into and working out the stiffness of the satyr's leg muscles.

Bleu mmms, bleating softly once again as Richard's fingertips dig into his muscles, working out those kinks. It's the best massage he's gotten in years. "Mmm, well, I think we're certainly past fuckbuddies," he murmurs, "But I think you've got a good idea there. Admittedly, I do have a tendancy to rush into things..." he laughs, and then sighs. "It's good to have one of us be the level-headed half of the pair."

Richard continues down to Bleu's calf muscles now taking one in both hands to knead like dough. Dough usually doesn't have a shin bone in it, but that analogy is going to have to do. He's kind of surprised that Bleu didn't ask what #1 was on that list. On further reflection, it might have been a mutual respect of privacy. "Yeah. Most of the time I am, I guess. If I'm being honest, it's probably a holdover from before I turned into a regenerating shapeshifting sex machine," he snorts, reflecting on how much he had to work himself up to get out of the human enclave and see Fairhaven. "I try to think things through to their results, but consequences are a lot gentler to me in-bubble. I suppose it would be nice to have something else keeping me grounded. Focusing on what matters."

Bleu nods, sighing to himself as Richard rubs his narrow calves, the satyr wiggling his ankles. "Oooh, yes, right there. Yeah, that feels good..." He's enjoying this entirely too much, alright. "See, I'm very much the opposite... I'm flighty, to the extreme. Rush headlong into relationships, and I suppose that's why I now have so many lovers. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I tend to fall hard and fast. I handwave it away as being polyamorous, which is true. But in the early days I had a 'husband', so to speak. Eh..." He shrugs. "That was a long time ago."

Richard looks away from his work on his lover's lower legs. Sounds like the symptoms of a broken heart. "Well... you don't have to handwave it away. You're a bachelor now. One of these days you're gonna find a favorite, whether or not it's me. Plenty of fish in the pond, and plenty of op-" Oh god dammit. "Aaand I'm repeating myself again. Point still stands. I think there's someone out there who's a great match for me, and I don't see why that wouldn't be true for you." He switches calves, attending to the other leg now. "Just take it slow. On an individual level, I mean. Anyone can be a one-night stand. It's the morning after that matters, and whether they call you up again later."

Bleu's voice betrays no such feelings... But his words do tell that story. The satyr has so many 'mates' because he's trying to replace his Deke, with varying degrees of success. Bleu shrugs, and sighs. "I mean, I do think I'd like having a one and only again, but I've done made so many connections with other truly wonderful people that this time around it would be more of an open marriage, as they say. But, this is a more relaxed time, so maybe that's no longer as big an issue as it once was." He finally smiles down at Richard. "You called me up again. I was really pleased when you did, too. I wasn't sure just *what* you remembered of our one night stand, you were so drunk, but clearly I must've made an impression, eh?"

Richard, now down to the... whatever the foot equivalent is on an ungulate, plies and prods at the ligaments just above Bleu's hooves. "Open marriages do seem to be the norm, when and where they exist. That example I gave earlier with Anbessa and Luna is... hell, Anbessa's job in the Zephyr directory is 'mercenary/breeder for hire,' and that's the closest to a conventional marriage that I'm aware of." Without much in the way of muscle down here and the hooves being a mite too hard for a massage, Richard settles for what he's done so far

"For what it's worth, *we* think you're a cute couple," one of the pillows says. Another, across the headboard from there hisses, "Shut up! You're ruining the- shit. Too late."

Bleu finds himself atop an improvised mattress of folded towels inside the spa section of the tea retreat. Cave walls stretch overhead in a wide arch around steaming pools of water, some only ankle-deep, some deep enough to swim in. "Well," Richard says, shrugging with his arms held wide, "you guys made a convincing bedspread while it lasted. Several other pillows tanukify and walk away. Others turn out to be balled up towels. "I'm surprised he was under for as long as he was. Seriously, guys, you were MVP props for that. You didn't have to- "

"We *wanted to,*" a tanuki claims, "now you two lovebirds spend some time in the onsens and unwind, yeah?"

"Okay," Richard starts, "so obviously most of that genie stuff was an illusion. You kinda glossed over when I looked at you as that snake form, and when I said my hands were warm... you just went with it."

Bleu had been just in the midst of enjoying himself as Richard worked the tendons and hocks above his hooves. That's a good spot, alright. He sighs, listening to his lover talk about marriage... Then his eyes shoot open and he sits up when that unexpected voice speaks just beside his left ear. "Gah! Oh... It's you guys!" Being called a cute couple makes him blush, however, even if the randy goatman is inclined to agree. But then he realizes he's no longer in the garden. "Where on earth... How did I get here?" He asks. "Was that all a dream?" But then Richard answers his question, though the satyr just kind of nods. "Wow... That felt SOOO real..."

Richard clears his throat. Thank fuck, he's taking it well. "For the record, I did NOT mean to do that. The only real part about that was the chocolate bar. I think. I don't know *exactly* what you saw, but I told you there was a bed out in the garden, and it seems like you believed it," Richard says, red faced as he has been for the last few minutes. His whole body is red, but we're focusing on his face. "'You are limited only by your imagination,'" he says, returning to the accent he put on for the duration of that unintentionally aided role play. His bangled hands drag over his face with a prolonged exhalation. "No harm done, I hope. I legit forgot that the lamias could do that."

Bleu hmmms, looking his lover up and down. A grin tugs at the edges of his lips. "Dude... That was quite relaxing. I feel more refreshed now than I did when we got here... Though I suppose perhaps I should be concerned what I talk about when I'm under hypnosis. I don't think I'd normally go on and on about marriage like that... Sorry, Love." He looks away for a moment. "Anyway... Shall we get a nice soaking in? It'll be the perfect finish for such a great massage..."

Semi-consensual sex and a hot tub? Where have I heard that before? "Yeah. Now *I* need to relax. Having that level of responsibility is goddamn harrowing. You would have believed literally whatever I told you," he confesses, standing off of the 'bed' with a huff. He turns around and points at Bleu. "The one thing I want you to believe from all that is that you've got plenty of time to find someone if you *are* thinking of settling down. Say what you want about how you were under the influence, but shit. that topic of conversation came from somewhere." He finds a steaming pool hewn out of the cave floor which has a ledge for sitting inside comfortably. "Need to change into something with less muscles to be full of tension..."

Bleu frowns slightly as Richard speaks. "Oh... Oh, I'm sorry." He stretches some, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "I'll take my time, though," he replies. "Even though I doubt it'll come to much." He shrugs, then starts to climb down into the pool with his friend.

Richard waves his hand at the apology. “Thanks, but... hell, correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you're fine with it. I should've been more careful with my shifting, that's all. Speaking of..." He starts scrolling through a list on his comms. He mutters to himself as he manipulates the menu. "Let's see... No, no, also no...Too fat...That one's got no muscles, but it's a literal skeleton... Hair's too long on that one... That one can't undress..." After a few more seconds of scrolling, he shrugs and says, "Heck, may as well not be solid." Having finally made up his mind, he...starts to become transparent. Over the course of a few seconds, his features all blur together and become transparent, not unlike a certain jello-snake scientist. Once fully jellied, Richard flows into the onsen and ends up in a seated position.

Bleu doesn'take his eyes off Richard as the other man turns to literal goo. Or gel. Take your pick. She lowers himself into the water, his little tail flitting, though as soon as he gets settled he changes as well, to that sexy aquatic form Richard knows so well. "So... You know, I think the tanuki here think we're dating or something... Are we?" He looks over at the gel with a smirk.

Richard glances over towards the mer-hermaphrodite as he settles quite literally upon the seat. "Pretty sure we are," he states, matter of factly. "I mean, I brought you out to dinner, I proposed we have a 'more than friends and possibly more than that' relationship, and we fucked. Passionately. If that's not a date, I'm not a gel. Or goo. I don't remember which one I went with." Looking down, he can see his own legs below the surface. "I think it's gel." He leans back against the rim of the hot spring, sighing in relaxation. This is hydrating as heck. He should do this more often. "And what a date it's been."

Bleu mhmms, resting his arms behind his head. "I thought as much." The mer giggles. "It has been a date to remember. I don't think I've had one so passionate and sexually satisfying in awhile." His tail swishes through the water. "The only question is, when are you gonna introduce me to the parents?"

Richard had been leaning back with his eyes shut. They snap open. Really should have been expecting that question to come up at some point. He blinks away the surprise and sits up straight. "Well... whenever, I suppose. I'd like to give them some advance notice, though." Let's see, how would this even work... "They're not coming out of the enclave any time soon. That's my impression, at least. We could, uh... no, you're kinda drippy. We might not be allowed in. They could meet us at the cordon, I guess?"

Bleu looks over at Richard with a grin. "I'm drippy? Is that an insult?" He laughs. "Anyway, if you're worried about me being a bad influence, I can go as a human... A *fully dressed* human. You've seen my human form. I look like a 19 year old..."

Richard shrugs his slimy shoulders. "No insult intended. You're always wet and ready, that's all. Might pose an issue to the 'keep your hands and bodily fluids to yourself' rule for visitors." Bleu's offer is very accomodating. There's one other hitch, however. "...Since fucking when have you owned pants?" Richard chuckles. "That's news to me!"

Bleu harrumps loudly. "You haven't looked in my closet. I actually do own clothes... I just never wear them. But I can make exceptions. I do think going as a human would probably be for the best, though. They may take issue with my apparent ag, but I don't know." He sighs, sinking a little more in the water. "I'm not as drippy when I'm human, also..."

Richard quite literally slides around the circumferance of the pool to Bleu's side. "Yeah, I haven't . I'm just messing with you. In all seriousness, I think my mom would be thrilled to meet someone who's been face to face with a god. She's a..." He pauses as he realizes he should probably explain in detail. "Well, she was born Jewish, then ended up as a Unitarian. Pretty much freestyle religion, if you've never heard of it. Pick and choose what you want to believe, and do your research on any religion that's interesting. She's more of a Buddhist than anything else right now, I think."

Bleu turns to look at Richard, mmming as the gel explains his mother's beliefs. "Eh, well... You think that's something… I was raised Protestant, and now I'm full blown Greco-Roman pagan, which is about the craziest shift imaginable." He laughs. "Not that I'm exactly fully practicing. I don't sacrifice bulls to Zeus or any of that shit." His tail swishes through the water again.

Richard raises a viscuous eyebrow at both of those claims. "Ain't that crazy. There's fuckin'... two or three other pantheons with representatives around here. The world is what's crazy. If someone told me that Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses were in a perpetually tied game of rock-paper-scissors somewhere, I'd consider that they might not be lying." He leans in on Bleu, sinking into his shoulder slightly. "With the world as it is, Zeus is probably too busy getting busy to care."

Bleu mmms, laying his head back against the side of the pool. "Mmm, never met Zeus, but you're probably right... As it is, though, Dionysus is my patron deity now... So let's pour one out for the party god, eh?" He has nothing to pour out at the moment, unfortunately. "Still, back on topic...I'll try my best not to embarrass you, Love..."

Richard sighs contentedly on Bleu's shoulder. Maybe this will go well after all. "They're pretty open minded. Just keep those pants you claim to have on and it should be fine. Be good and we can go to my place afterwards, and I'll help you out of 'em." Wait, did he already tell Bleu about- No, no he didn't! Duh. "Oh! Started renting a place in New Dawn. The rent at The Painted Gel is super cheap. It's got a nice, open setup, great view of the city..." he trails off.

Bleu smiles, resting against his gooey lover. "Don't worry... I know how to keep my clothes on." When Richard mentions having his own place, the mer grins. "Mmm, now I can't wait to see it... I suppose we'll start leaving toothbrushes at each other's apartment, huh?" His voice is lightly teasing.

Richard gooily grins at the idea of having regular company. "Sounds like a plan. Bring friends if you want. Plenty of room," he claims. Several seconds pass quietly as he contemplates... something. Something kinky, IF the geometry of it works out right. "That reminds me, what floor is your apartment on?"

Bleu looks over at Richard, his brow cocked. "It's on the roof," he replies, "Why do you ask? Something crazy in mind?"

The roof? Shit. So much for doing it at his place. "...Thinking of a sexy way to show you that Halloween costume. I *might* need a stepstool if I'm gonna pull that plan off at your place," Richard sighs. "Still think you'd like it. Just have to find somewhere else." One of his wandering hands flows behind Bleu and then back around, palming the further of the fish-person's funbags.

Bleu mmms, shifting some as Richard gives him a fondle. That's always nice. "I bet I would... Why do you show me at your place, hmm? I'll find it sexy, and then we'll bone. At this point, I think I'm safe in that prediction..." He smirks, and laughs.

Bleu tenses slightly as his nipple leaks milk thanks to Richard's teasing. Raising a hand to his neck he manipulates the odd flaps of flesh, exposing the bluish-colored, slightly oily-looking flesh within. "Gill slits. Both sides of my neck. Alas, this is my only water-breathing form... As an aside, these gills are crazy sensitive, and if you do it just right, you can just about cause me to orgasm by teasing them..." He blushes. "Anywho... Isn't the universe already our bitch?"

Richard massages the mer's mammary with his gel grabber. That little squirt of milk makes its way into his mitt, which is an odd sensation to say the least. Not unpleasant, but similar to taking a sip of warm sweetcream through a mouth that only existed for a microsecond. "Your gills?" The gel asks. "Well... now I'm getting another crazy idea. This is more of a bath than a jacuzzi. Let's see what I can do about that." The semi-solid shapeshifter's form starts to slump and lose its shape, flowing into a seat-like shape beneath and behind the mer-herm, draping across his shoulders above the surface of the water. "Miranai's slutty maid daughter seemed to like this. Mind giving me a second opinion?

Bleu isn't entirely aware of what Richard is doing at first. "Mmm, I like your crazy ideas," he murmurs, with his eyes closed, as the gel re-forms under and behind his body. "Well... I mean... Am I sitting on you? It feels pretty nice..."

Richard says, "Kind of. Don't worry, this is nothing *too* crazy. Just that I only had two hands to massage with when I was doing that genie thing. Now I don't need to bother with hands." The gooey gentleman conforms to the confused mer's body, wrapping around his torso like a belly-less one-piece swimsuit, albeit adapted for his baby bulge and broad aquatic tail. True to his word, the spa-warmed slime man starts a slick shiatsu session on the seated former satyr. Pulses of pressure rise in rapid repetition up the back muscles of the bathing sea-babe, and kneading waves wash over his shoulders. Just behind his shoulder, he would hear, "How's this?"

Bleu ohs, his eyelids fluttering as the gel gal flows around his body, murring happily as that shiatsu starts up. Making muscles the mer didn't even know he had loosen up and relax. "How's this?" he asks back, "It's great. Ooh... Right there, small of my back...Ohhhh..." He luxuriates in the sensations.

The still genderless gel goes for the spot specified at the base of Bleu's spine. Richard's... well, it would be his abs if he was still in a humanoid shape - push and prod at the strong swimming muscles that anchor Bleu's tail to his body. Though, Bleu can't see the goo's head, he soon feelsthe man's mushy lips brush the side of his neck and the gills gathered there.

Bleu's breath catches in his throat. There it is. That's it. Those tender, sensitive flaps. Bleu sighs, and he gently squirms in Richard's gooey embrace. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he whispers.

Richard's warm, humid breath rolls over those fishy flaps, followed swiftly by his taffy-like tongue teasing along the length of a lower slit. Tastes like tuna and tequila... "Mmm... Give me a ring on the comms whenever you want goo massage..." He mutters, shifting some of his mushy mass up to Bleu's neck to accompany the nuzzling. Tendrils of the translucent man roll over the rear of his neck in a comforting collar.

Bleu's head lolls back, and he shivers as Richard's tongue glides along his sensitive gill-slit. "Fuck, man... I'll give you a ring on the comms every damn day of the week... I'm stuck on you, I think." The mer grins toothily, as he feels his lover spread around his neck.

Richard pulls even more of himself off of Bleu's back to form a pillow under his partner's head. He looks down at himself. Most of the mass is up near Bleu's head and shoulders, with a single strand of slime extending to the area where the ass would be. It prods and plies at the mer-person's lower back. Meanwhile, two pseudopod-like hands are perched on his plump pectorals, gently hefting his breasts. Richard rubs the outside of the gills with the section of himself that's surrounding the back of Bleu's neck in a semi-circle. He withdraws portions of it to place his lips and tongue on the tender flesh underneath those flaps. "Stuck on *me*?" He quips. "Ironic..."

Now that's a nice pillow. Bleu was already comfortable, but now even more so. His tail swishes, slowly, as Richard continues to rub his lower back. "Ooof... Well, yes, I am *literally* stuck on you right now..." He grins, rolling his shoulders a little and then settling back comfortably. "Gotta ask... Do you prefer me with or without noticeable breasts?"

Richard hums thoughtfully, sending a shiver through his entire slimy self as his caresses continue. "Can't say I'm not a fan of a good set of tits," he states, "but hearing a man's voice along with them is a little confusing. Put 'em on whenever you feel like it." A brief flow of Richard's body twirls around the tips of Bleu's tits. "You're not thinking of getting rid of them *right now,* are you?"

Bleu shakes his head gently. "Mmm, no, don't worry. In point of fact, I actually can't individually influence my breast growth. I really should look into splashing out the cash for greater control of my nanites sometime..."

Richard hums once more. "'S worth it. Wish they were still doing that 'mako for surveys' program," he muses, still swirling slime around those supple breasts in addition to the light squeezes he's pressing onto the lower back and upper neck, "I heard Zephyr had to cut that part of their company. Too bad." Now that Bleu's head is fully settled back into that improvised pseudopod pillow, some of Richard's slime can creep around to the front of his fishy lower body. "Still have a little bit left over from that, if you're trying to ask for a Christmas gift."

Bleu opens his eyes, and hmmms. "Is that an offer, Lover Boy?" He grins, showing his pointed teeth again. "I mean, I wouldn't say no. It is rather shocking that I haven't bothered with pursuing the matter before now, though, considering how much I enjoy changing my shape at the drop of a hat." He sighs happily. "About Zephyr, though... They have been experiencing downsizes recently..."

Richard's head, which had been held above Bleu's shoulder, turns to meet those eyes. "Maybe it is," he teases. "I know I have fun mixing and matching." His eyes wander down to that grin. He blows out a whistle... or tries to. His partly liquified lips put forth a sputter at first before becoming the intended sound. "I'd say the most shocking thing here is those chompers. Yikes." Those creeping tendrils continue to encircle Bleu's waist. "Maybe the downsizing is a good sign. Could be that people are running the city more and more, not the company."

Bleu suddenly remember how intimidating his smile is now, and he stops grinning. "Mmm, maybe you should help me with the mixing and matching, huh? Guess it would take me to the next level..." He sighs again, enjoying the sensation of Richard around his waist. "You're correct, though. A new city government has been in the works for past couple years. Zephyr was heavily involved in the early days, in order to help it get off the ground, but it's been taking a less hands-on approach. I think they've been estimating that Fairhaven could be finally back to more-or-less normal by 2025..."

Richard smiles and nods. "It's the least the company could do. This is their mess," he claims. "I attended the fundraiser for that new police station a couple of months ago. We're definitely making progress. Magnus is... hell, I don't know what group he's with, but he's one of the most important people in town. Pretty sure we were supposed to have Michael J Fox on a hoverboard a few years back and not a fennec fox on a jetpack, though..." His head sinks lower, returning to tongue the part time goat's gills. The waist encircling extrusions also begin to encroach on Bleu's cunt, starting to stroke the scaly lips.

Bleu lets out a happy gasp of pleasure when Richard tongues at his gills, his whole aquatic body shuddering lustfully. The stroking at the mer's cunt, however, geta a bigger reaction, as Bleu squirms fitfully and moans. "Mmm, a 'Back to the Future' reference... I like your taste, yes. Th- think it makes me even more attracted to you..."

It seems the mer-maphrodite wasn't expecting those tender touches on their twat. Richard continues to gently stroke Bleu's gills, tease his titties, and massage his muscles even as he starts to caress that cunt in earnest. he pulls his mouth away from the nautical necking to speak. "This whole evening was my treat. First rule of entertaining is to know your audience."

Bleu had indeed not expected that, but if his happy moans are any indication, he's quite enjoying the teasing from the gel. His tits and gills being stimulated is lovely, too. "Mmm, well, you're getting to know me *quite* well. Really turns me on..." He wiggles some. "Get's me all hot 'n' bothered..."

Richard swirls around Bleu's body, slowly deflating the pillow behind his head into a simple pad to free up more mass. His head repositions to be in front of Bleu's own. "Getting to know you inside and out," he says, smirking down at the solid sea-person. Now entirely encasing Bleu's upper body save for his arms and head, Richard starts flowing a piece of himself into his lover's lower lips. It takes a familiar shape, throbbing and gently thrusting as shapeless goo strokes the stiff counterpart above it. "Don't be afraid to bite," he whispers, leaning down to resume his rendezvous with the other fish-scented slits on his fellow shapeshifter, "I taste like cherry."

"Cherry?" Bleu asks. "Huh..." He doesn't get long to contemplate the flavor of his lover, however, because suddenly his pussy is being thrust into, while his own slim cock is being stroked off, and he sighs happily. Yes, Richard's a keeper. "You better fuck me here again, babe..."

Richard shimmies the entirety of his slimy self as he settles into a rhythm, rocking his... he doesn't really have hips, but the thrusting is doing its thing. Slowly at first. The gel conforms to his lover's torso, touching everything, moving in unison with him to mash itself against everything from the mammaries to maleness. There's little doubt that he's doing exactly what Bleu told him to do as his turgid length touches every inch of the mer-herm's interior. He'd tell him a s much if his mouth wasn't making out with the mer's sensitive neck slits.

Bleu is rendered immobile by that manipulation of his gill slits. He wasn't kidding when he revealed how sensitive to touch they are. It makes him all weak in the knees (if he had knees). He huffs and squirms, unable to do anything but moan as the goo person starts fucking him silly.

The way his partner went almost limp from this full-body fucking almost feels unfair to Richard. At first he wonders if Bleu is bullshitting him, faking it for some reason. Then he realizes what's really happening. Bleu's body is sensitive to liquids. He's halfway to being one. Hot damn. And he only entered this form to make massaging him easier. He can't help but smile smugly at the unplanned effects of a shift working in his favor, as opposed to the extraneous entrancement of the snaky shift a while back. It breaks into a lecherous grin as he hears the man's moans from licks at his
gill slits. This is too easy. He's gonna have to let Bleu get him drunk sometime to even the score.

Bleu is always more than happy to get someone drunk, so that's definitely bound to happen sooner, rather than later. In the meantime, however, he's too busy being turned into a quivery pile of aroused fish-boi and leaking milky-white pre-cum thanks to Richard's combined jerk-off session and filling Bleu's fishy cunt. He'd call it an unfair advantage, if he wasn't enjoying it so much.

Richard keeps his jello-y self jiggling. Fishy-boy's fluids flow into his form, creating discolored clouds wherever they come into existence. He can tell there's something new inside himself. He can almost taste it. The taste on his lips of alcohol and aquatic life overwhelms all others as he kisses and nuzzles into Bleu's erogenous gills, very nearly forcing his fluid form through them. The only participation from the insensate sea-man is the spasming of his cunt muscles and squirming of his body. It might be unfair, but an advantage like this makes Richard feel powerful. He thrusts harder. Faster.

Bleu is not one to argue about his boyfriend's power. (Wait, have they graduated to 'Boyfriends'? The merboi guesses so.) Those harder thrusts make his squirm, as more of his pre leaks out, his arousal steadily growing. When he cums, he's going to cum hard, most likely. And Richard's manipulation of his gills certainly is going to help with that.

Richard's rigid rod is ramming harder and harder into the mer-man he's holding down - not that he'd need to. Honestly, this feels a bit *too* one sided. His hectic hammering slows to a stop, huffing and puffing as his head hovers just above his lover's. (If we're not all the way to 'boyfriends' yet, meeting the parents would make it official.) Once he sees Bleu's eyes unglaze long enough to look into his own, he would say, "Hold me close," no, *beg,* "please." If Bleu is still too shaken from the severity of the sex, Richard would help him into the requested hug.

Bleu mmmphs, his eyes refocusing on his gooey lover, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around his gelled lover. "Hold you," he coos, his faculties clicking back into place, "Of *course*, my Love." He smiles, and holds Richard, and presses a kiss to pliant lips.

Richard accepts that kiss in a heartbeat, hellish teeth having no effect on his hesitance. It probably helps that he's literally liquid as well and doesn't have to worry about wounds. The thrusting, too, returns to its fever pitch as Richard fearlessly lets his tongue into his lover's mouth. He humps for all he's worth, trying to get back to that peak of pleasure again. Having Bleu clawing at his back spurs him forwards, and not out of pain. This form hardly feels it.

Bleu does inadvertantly let his claws dig into Richard's back, but of course, he's too distracted. All that thrusting has driven the mer to the edge, and he can't hold back any longer, as his firm rod erupts with thin, milky cum all over Richard. It's not nearly as thick as when he's a satyr. His cumming doesn't stop his passionate, hungry kissing.

Richard grunts at the sudden sensation of cum flowing into him. Even though it's going straight into his stomach, he can taste it. Like seawater, but sweeter. The passionate, cherry, salt, and liquer flavored kiss. The sheer feeling of rubbing against everything from chin to groin on the former satyr. The spasming of his cumming cunt and tensing balls. It's too much for him to bear as well, and he finds himself cumming in time with his (You know what? Let's just say it.) boyfriend. He moans a long and lustful moan into the mer's mouth, just barely having the presence of mind to grope at Bleu's gills as he does.

Bleu had begun to return to full awareness, until Richard gives his gills another good groping, and fishy boi lets out a pleasured yip, his head tipping back and tongue hanging out of his mouth. His one weakness in this form. He rides out Richard's climax, huffing and grunting rather lewdly, unable to articulate a rational thought as the two hermy 'men' climax together. Yes, boyfriend sounds about right.

Hearing Bleu's yip almost throws Richard off, until it trails into a lewd moan. He pulls himself tight against the blissed-out mer-boi, moving with surprising stiffness for one so fluid until he finally comes down from his cumming. When it's over, he breaks the kiss and seems to lose all cohesion, becoming a shapeless blob in the water for a few seconds before he can gather himself into a panting, mostly human-shaped lump sitting next to Bleu on the bath's submerged bench. "Stupid question," he asks, turning towards his boyfriend, "was it good for you, too?" The smile on his face is a bit too cheeky to be from the post-coitus high.

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog

2019-12-31T19:31:43Z

Slippery Richard: Created page

Perfect Peach Parlay - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:39:41Z

Slippery Richard: Corrected formatting for separation of log and date portions, changed Richard's name to link to the player instead of the NPC.

=Participants=
* [[Bleu]]
* [[Escherr]]
* [[Fenris]]
* [[Magnus]]
* [[Nena]]
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]]
* [[Uvi]]
=Date=
Sunday November 3, 2019
=Log=
<div></div><div title="Magnus"><p>"God..." *clank* "Fucking..." *thud* Magnus would be heard cussing loudly as he dangles over the rim of what was a large six person jeep's bonnet, hammering away at the engine in some haphazard way it seems. Several more parts are flung out from there as a frustrated looking fennec's ears swish about in response to his acute muzzle sniffing for trouble. Two wrenches, a screwdriver and a doughnut follow the pile of thrown out bits and bobs... "Come ooooonnnn..." Magnus gripes as he leans away from the engine block and rubs his forehead. He'd examine a metal piece in his hand, then throw it over one shoulder. "That probably wasn't important." </p>
<p></p>
<p>The fox then moves over towards the driver's seat, opens the door and turns the ignition key. The engine whirrs once, twice, thrice and finally starts up with a resounding roar! Its driver looked both ecstatic and relieved to hear the glorious noise of machinery at work. Grabbing a moist towel to wipe his hands with, Magnus flings it over one shoulder, then moves back up to the front, shuts the bonnet and collapses back atop the hood of their transport. Out here, he was alone with his gear and his vehicle, amidst the scorching sands and desert heat, which... were both neither sorching nor not at this time of year, but what they were is empty, vacant, dull to look at. Still! He'd be easy to find!</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>A serpentine figure slithers across the sands of the desert, clad in a combat harness with a sleek looking, modified PPD-VA under her armpit, various electronic gizmos attached in many places, and a plenty of pockets and satchels. On her back, there is a clunky sniper rifle and a short blade. As she gets loser, she waves to the Fennec. "Heya Mags! I brought guns! Because, you know, you never know!" </p>
<p></p>
<p>Without further ado, she clumsily tries to stuff her long, serpentine body into the jeep. Mumbling to herself, she says, "Jeez, how am I supposed to fit here... I swear, if someone steps on my tail.."</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>In the distance, a pointed, furless ear twitches. That's got to be the guy who set this meeting up. A figure only slightly taller than a human approaches, covered in green clothes and brown leather. Short brown hair and sharp green eyes lurk under a travelling hood, with a quiver peeking over his shoulder as if a second head. This look wouldn't be out of place at an old-world Renaissance Faire if not for the bits of biological Promethean armor plating layered strategically outside of the clothes, or the arsenal of more modern weapons that completely shatter the illusion. An old Russian semi-auto pistol and short pump-action shotgun are strapped in easy-to-reach locations, and some weird electronics in the vague shape of a rifle hang from a sling across his chest. He rises to his full height, removing a rectangular electronic abomination from a pouch at his hip and scanning its lens across the landscape. He spots the car, its owner, and a chimeric snake-goo woman who made it there before him. Yep. This has to be the meeting. He approaches from the roadside after a brief walk. "Magnus," he addresses the fennec with a friendly tone and a curt nod. "Ma'am - if looks aren't deceiving," he greets the other mutant, pulling his hood back to reveal some decidedly elven features. Definitely not Faire material. "I don't think we've met. Name's Richard. Nice to meet you!"</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>Escherr Arrives not first nor last or late as walks through the various parts of the jeep strewn about. To bad he could offer little help in the fixing of vehicles, had to be such an effort to keep those working now of days. Still watching the small fox move about and soon the roar of the engine showing signs of life, least they would not be walking. </p>
<p></p>
<p>The street shaman was out of practice but the need to further the goals and the asking for those with negotiation skills offered him a chance to dip his claws back in the pool. Putting on his best face rather litterally with a friendly fossa smile. Ears flicking as others speak up. "Shown weapons are never a great first impression is what concealed is for." Offering that same charming smile the form offers to the two already standing there "As for your tail I am sure a few would not mind to be coiled in it and prefer it to seatbelts." Least the group was a diversed group so far, having to wait for others the cat lept up top to sit some and wait and soak in some of the sun</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Why... Is that a satyr coming this way? Quite a diverse group we're getting here. Bleu strides across the sands on his cloven hooves, wearing a blue windbreaker over his upper body to keep warm, but other naked to the elements. He's decidedly unarmed, as well, but he does carry a satchel and his comm. Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he calls out, "Mags, Darling! Bet you didn't expect your new mate to come along!" As he nears the jeep, the satyr nods his horned head to the others, none of whom he immediately recognizes. "Well, I brought wine! These will be most enjoyable negotiations!"</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris trots across the desert to the appointed meeting spot, his gear jangling as he jogs along. The wide-brimmed, white stetson perched on his head shields his eyes from the sun, but he wears little else aside from an open, plaid shirt and a heavy gun belt that holds his gear. </p>
<p></p>
<p>The burly tanuki bounces to a stop next to the jeep. "One tanuki, ready for action!? he says jovially, considering the size of the vehicle and his own bulk. He puts out a hand at the height of the jeep, then moves his hand up to the top of his head, then looks around at the other people around him. He ponders for a moment, then produces a pair of earings from his belt and puts them carefully in his ears. </p>
<p></p>
<p>"Wubwubwubwub!? he burbles as he visibly shrinks, ?Tanuki: Travel-Size! Dibs on Shotgun!? He scrambles around to clamber into the front passenger seat. "Hey, Magnus!? he grins, ?And hello to the rest of you!? He grins even bigger when the satyr arrives and offers wine. "That is what I like to hear!?</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Running a little late- Though not running, certainly- Nena smoothly saunters in, hands in her coat pockets. The bat woman is, as usual, visibly unarmed and unarmoured, and she snuffs out a cigarette as a courtesy as she draws closer. "Sorry I'm late. I had to get the laundry in and folded before I could go running off for adventure. Good to see I didn't miss the ride, though." Finding space for her shouldn't be too big of a problem. By old world standards, she was what could be considered... Compact, though perfectly within the realm of average.</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>"Shepard." Magnus answers Richard with a dim snicker before pulling off his work overalls, revealing anther outfit beneath. Tossing the oil-stained work duds into the trunk, he shuts it promptly and looks towards Uvi. "Heya gummyworm. Hopefully you won't need to use those cause we are intercepting a caravan where a lot of my kids are working." He'd cast a wink her way, then lean against the jeep door and await the arrival of the others. Once escherr arrives, a feline of sorts with enough bling to hurt the eyes of the blind, Magnus snickers quietly and greets him. "Honorary Mall Rat are we?" is what he'd remark with a wink and a smirk "Doesn't matter, Mag's the name, thrills are my game, and it's been a while since I turned the engine over on this old bird, so here we are!" He'd extend an introduction toward Escherr, and anyone else who cared for it too! </p>
<p></p>
<p>Turning towards Bleu, Magnus closes the distance, gives the slutty satyr's ass a quick smack and rumbles. "No, but I'm expecting you to be cumming a lot when I'm balls-deep in you later." he'd practically smolder through lidded eyes, then part from him with a wink and a snicker. Upon Fenris' arrival, Magnus raises a finger to address the size issue, however... he seems to have handled it all on his own, leaving the fennec with a raised finger and a slightly open muzzle. "Okay, that fixes that. Heya detective. Welcome and all that jazz. I want a drink myself but I'll be driving, so... best I save you folks that trouble, haha~" Magnus snickers into one hand, then addresses Nena, with a hug, and a squeeze. "You're just in time." </p>
<p></p>
<p>With that, the fox rolls over to the jeep and hops into the driver's seat. He revs the engine, and honks the horn twice! "Let's go folks! Briefing while on the road! If anyone has any travel music requests, do make them known, else I am blasting Daft Punk!" Magnus announces as all the jeep doors open at once, inviting everyone in to take a seat. The car itself wasn't much to look at. It was renovated, painted an army green and carrying several dents with pride, a sturdy warmare to be sure, astonishingly powerful-sounding if the engine sounds is anything to go by too!</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>The lamia winks back at Magnus, and when the satyr arrives and she, she can't help but wonder exactly how many mates does Magnus have... She refuses the wine, saying that she doesn't drink on the missions, and once everyone has arrived, the girl peeks out of the vehicle, waving and greeting everybody. With a cheerful tone in her voice, she says, "Hello everybody! I'm Uvi, at your service! Well, as long as the service is reasonable.." Frowning her nose, she adjusts her glasses and adds, "Hop in! Just.. don't step on my tail."</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard raises an eyebrow at the desert-doggo. "I'm not gonna jinx it with the proper response. You just fixed the damn thing, right?" He asks, nodding towards the car's engine. "Shame they never got to finish that series." He spares a glance towards the fossa as well. "True. Not like there are cops for us to call out here, though. Most of you guys are wicked short. Gotta have some muscle, or at least a discreet overwatch." He looks towards the tanuki in particular. Then he looks back to Magnus. "That's not kosher by pre-nanite standards. Minimum height for the passenger seat is at least 4 feet for safety reasons. Gods forbid we crash out here without nanites to quick-fix anything." A finger pointed to the satyr. "Let's save that for the celebration." He starts walking towards the car, just barely heeding Uvi's request. It moves side to side a lot, okay? That tail is hard to predict!</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>The feline flashes those pearly sharp teeth. "Nothing honorary about it. Is what I am naturally but igured this ride needed a friendly face and who doesn't love a friendly cat?" Chuckling a bit. "Escherr, been busy for awhile but use to come out to these things often. Japan, Goblins, sewers and more" To name just a few. Seemed least a few knew eachother and by the open display had a night of fun or two. </p>
<p></p>
<p>"Am ok with that pick of music, is either that or some of the music from the early Mad Max's......Made myself feel old" Chuckling some as jumped into the jeep and into the back though slipping over a coil and if not tangled in snake tail looking a tad pathetic like a cat tangled in string "Help.... Should of stayed on the roof."</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu moans into that sudden kiss and the smack from the fennec. "Eee... Yes, believe me, there'll be plenty of cumming, my little Love Muffin..." Turning his attention to the others, he takes notes of their various shapes, though he's moderately dismayed to note that the handsome elven man, Richard, seems to be a bit of a wet blanket. He could have a lot of fun rubbing those ears... Right-o, into the jeep, huh?" He starts to climb in after Escherr, deftly avoiding Uvi's tail. "Afternoon, Little Lady," he says to her, all Western-like. "Let's get this party on the road, eh?"</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris throws himself into his seat, buckles up, and turns to raise an eyebrow at Richard?s concern. The eyebrow quickly turns into a grin. ?Don?t worry about me,? he says jovially. </p>
<p></p>
<p>The tubby tanuki approves of and sings along, badly, to Magnus?s music choice. Not that his voice is bad, it is just that he only knows every fourth or fifth word, interspersing them in with his own nonsense lyrics. The shrunken raccoon-dog waves a chubby paw toward the back seat. ?As a card carrying Tanu- er, police detective, I am required by law to inspect any and all alcoholic beverages!? He reaches his arms above his head and his hands are visible from the back seat, making little grabby motions.</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Returning the hug, Nena offers a slight smile. "Good. I would have even frowned had I gotten here only to find everyone gone." She climbs nimbly into the vehicle, avoiding the tail and other limbs as she finds a spot to settle. "If we're doing the introduction thing, I'm Nena. And I think I'll pass on the drink for now, but thanks. I'm not a huge wine girl, usually. It has to be a special. And uhh, whatever music really!"</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>It turns out that all Fenris would be singing along to were three words... "Around the world, around the world~" it seems, someone had remixed the classic hit from the legend Daft Punk, and Magnus was blasting that the moment everyone takes their seat in the jeep. "Fuck it. Hit me with some wine anyway." Magnus nods towards Bleu, before revving up the engine. He nestles into his seat and rolls down his window. His hand locks around the handbreak, foot presses down on the gas pedal, the tires spin up behind them, kicking up a massive dust cloud, before he releases the break and everyone feels the jolt of sudden acceleration! Truly, their transport was a beast of glorious, unbridled might! The team find themselves peaking highway speeds as the suspension handles the road imperfections with dignity and grace. The fennec drapes one arm over the open window and bobs his head to the sounds of the music, his other hand gripping the steering wheel at the top. </p>
<p></p>
<p>There weren't many turns to make, thankfully... it was all a flat, empty, sandy expanse in every direction around them, even as they leave the bubble. "ALRIGHT! Briefing time! We are to meet my son, Garry. Yes, Garry. He's arranged for some valuables to be handed off from the caravan he travels with, not for free obviously! Zephyr's already given me a grant." The fennec hooks a thumb behind himself to the trunk of the jeep. "Food, water, medicine, antivenom, basic survival stuff for the desert folks to make use of. Though stingy as they are, I doubt the nomads are gonna take so little for components so valuable. They know what they have and they are gonna play hardball for it! Our job is to secure the deal and haul the servos back. OH! Right, it's Heavy Duty Servos. That's what we're trading for." </p>
<p></p>
<p>"Now, understand that my kid ain't a big wheel in that caravan. He's worked really hard to get them to even consider trading with us, so don't expect favoritism, quite the opposite. Those nomads follow a routine, so them stopping just for us has already pissed them off. Put on your friendliest, don't get rough with them, I don't want trouble, alright?" The fennec instructs as they ride the dunes in their transport. "Should only be that. Nothing more to it, we grab the loot and skoot." Magnus nods and casts a glance around the others. "You folks got a plan? I'm not gonna be helping you. Not exactly a negotiator myself..."</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>"Ack! Ack!", exclaims the lamia girl, panicking as Escherr gets all tangled up with her coils. She tries her best to release the poor fossa, squirming and wiggling in her seat. "Ack! And you are tickling me, AAaah!" She holds her nerdy glasses with one hand to prevent them from falling, because loosing her glasses somewhere under the seat in a fully packed car is the last thing she wants. Well, there definitely could be worse things, like getting killed on the mission, or Magnus choosing to play some silly dance pop music. Having finally managed to succesfully release Escherr, she says, "Alright, only one tangled up mutantperson, I call it a success." She listens through the briefing without saying a word. Her smile withers when she hears that she probably won't have the occasion to shoot stuff, but a faint glimpse of hope can still be seen in her brown eyes.</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard buckles himself in. Safety first! He also notices the looks the satyr is giving him. "I'm with the bat on this one. It stops being special if it's an all-the-time thing. Speaking of..." He relaxes back into his seat. "What's goin' on between you and Rommel up there?" As he nods towards the fennec, he catches a glimpse of the desert fox reaching for the wine with an officer of the law clawing for their own share of the booze. Between the hard negotiations ahead and the Driver's Ed PSA scenario he's gotten himself into, he can't help himself. "Fuck it, give me a thimble full of that stuff too." While he waits for a drink, he flips the safety of his shotgun on.</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>"Sorry sorry." Though unable to hold back a bit of laughter at the expense of himself and Uvi till untangled and finding a seat with a content sigh of relief "Drinking is fine just watch the road head now that can cause an accident." With the wine being passed around took some himself but unlike some friends did not down to much as it could effect the fossa much easier. </p>
<p></p>
<p>If anything the music only showcased some of that inner Mall Rat as the feline moved to it tail twitching and rings tapping at his peircings making a bit of a click to the beat as nodded along with it even closing his eyes as if listening on a headset. Still he listened to the debrief "Is always promise to bring other things out as well or our own funds. I can normally dig something up for anyone. May even be something in my pockets" Patting around some and finding a few diffrent things "Oh thats new" Putting it in another pocket as if to keep it. "If any of the wine makes it to the caravan is that to."</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu came prepared, it turns out. He starts pulling cups out of his satchel, and passes one to each passenger that asked for wine, then he uncorks his bottle and starts filling each cup. "Desert Fox, Rommel. So you're a history buff, err, Richard, was it?" He takes a long swig of his own wine, before answering the elf's question. "Mag and I are rather newly mated, so to speak... Been friends awhile, but he rocked my world a couple weeks ago, and thus we decided to go all the way." He smirks, lecherously, giving Richard another appraising look. So handsome to look at. "What about yourself? Don't believe we've met... You new to Fairhaven?"</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris gradually gets the hang of ?Around the World,? and bops along happily to the remix, looking like an excited toddler or chubby pet in the front seat. ?Servos, hard-nosed traders. Got it,? he says, ?And Z is footing the bill? Perfect.? The tanuki gladly takes a cup as Bleu distributes the goods and drinks it carefully as the jeep rumbles through the wasteland. </p>
<p></p>
<p>He sighs happily and thumps his belly with a sound like a bass drum in appreciation of the drink. ?Satyrs always have good stuff,? he says, then continues to tap out a drum beat along to the soundtrack as they all travel on.</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>"... Well, I just prefer beer," Nena says with a wry smirk. "Unless it's rice wine, I usually don't drink wine outside of certain events." She adjusts her glasses and folds her arms, which has the added effect of wraping herself in a cloak of wings- Or maybe a blanket. "Yes... It's a trade, right? So it's just a matter of finding what they want, and compromising with what we can provide. I do not have much in the way of objects to give, but I have other things. I am not empty handed." Her large ears twitch a little at the music. "What can you tell us about this caravan? Their routes, places they visit, the like. That will help me make appropriate offerings."</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>The team would go on for the better part of fifteen minutes, sands and dust clouds whizzing past them, the windshield wipers thankfully adapted with some brushes to sweep the fine grains obstructing their driver's view. "Oh, I forgot to mention..." Magnus adds as a large canyon comes into view before them. "There's only one way over that on this way around! We're jumping it!" he'd announce loudly, just in time for a long ramp forged of stones and planks to come into view. Magnus pulls a small guarding case concealing a red button atop the steering wheel. His fist makes loud contact with it as a sharp hissing sound is heard in front of them all. The engine roars loudly in response to what had just happened and the shock of sudden acceleration strikes them again! It's hard to tell exactly how much speed they'd gained, but they hit the ramp in mere moments! </p>
<p></p>
<p>Their transport earns a good several seconds of airtime, before the vehicle touches down violently, shaking and nearly spinning out of control due to landing a touch off to the side. Magnus breathes a sigh of relief and releases the gas pedal, letting the engine cool off for a little bit as they start to coast downhill. Once the slope was steep enough, he turns the engine off entirely, and leaves things to gravity alone. He'd sniff the air and ask "Alright, how many pairs of soiled panties do we have this time?" with vivid amusement, snickering as things calm down. "We've got a safer route back, a longer one too... but coming back with the parts, we're both not gonna be pressed for time, nor are we gonna be light enough to make that jump again anyway. Thank you for flying air fennec." Magnus jests as he takes another swig of the wine. "We'll be arriving soon." Magnus notes, as soon they'd spot a small encampment in the far distance, nestled among the sand dunes.</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>Uvi:was about to raise a hand and ask if drinking and driving was even legal these days, but then she felt the sudden acceleration of the vehicle. When the jeep gets airborne, she raises her arms and a loud, gleeful "Wheeeeeee~!" escapes her mouth. Looking at other passengers, she responds to Magnus, "Huh? I don't wear panties, you silly! Can you do it again?" After a while she adds, "You know, I thought about it, and, you know, servos are big and heavy, and there aren't too many settlements around here. If I had to carry big chunk of metal in the desert, I'd want to get rid of it and sell it as soon as possible. We can play hard and push this fact to our advantage."</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard replies "Yep, that's me," then hems and haws in response to Bleu's question. "Ehhhhhh... not really. Just sort of isolated. Ten years in New Dawn's 'still human and would rather remain that way' enclave, then another year of scouting around for them. Things have slowed down a bit in my sector, so I'm in town mo-" Magnus's boast forces him to interrupt himself. "'The fuck?!" They don't have enough speed to make it over the gap with that earth-works ramp! Another jolt of momentum jerks his hands away from his seatbelt and the door handle, though, and also revises his outlook on the situation for the better. He holds down loose items (mostly his own) during the flight and landing, closing his eyes and hoping not to get splashed with any loose wine. Once things are settled down, he responds to Uvi. "Good thinking. I hope they're the kind that likes to travel light."</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>Escherr is mid drink and ears perk right up hearing that and seeing the cliff. "You mad bastard.......I like it." Feeling that the riskw ould be minimal if it had to be done but still who didn't get that stomach to the chest jump like when at the top of a roller coaster and you see the drop and pushed back into the seat with sudden acceleration as even gave out the typical WOOOOOO and arm raise. Looking around some and somehow managed not to spill anything. "Some are not even in pants though." Peeking outside the window and seeing the makeshift camp in the distance. "Reminds me of the days studying Anthropolgy before this. Who knew be actually helpful." More so leaning out the window now and sitting on the open ledge arm on the roof.</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu had just re-corked his bottle, and was listening intently to Richard, (whom he's already planning to snog, passionately), when suddenly there's the acceleration, and the jump... The satyrs screams, and closes his eyes, and then the vehicle lands, and he shudders. "What the fuck, Mag..." Though now that he's leaning closer to Richard, he gives the handsome elf a sniff...</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris laughs manically through the whole jump, raising his hands in the air like he is riding a roller coaster. The tubby tanuki claps his hands gleefully. ?That alone was worth the trip!? he laughs, ?You?ve been holding out on me!? He does not seem to mind the daredevil stunt in the least. "This caravan, though," he finally asks, sobering up a little as they near their destination, "Is it a Mad Max sort of thing? Or should we expect to meet a tribe of Bedoin, or what??</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Nena does not mind the ramp itself, so much. Worst case scenario and they fall? She can glide to safety. But, as it is, while she's not given a fright, she does groan in discomfort as she goes up... And then back down on the seat with the landing. "A little more warning would be nice. Kind of hurts my ass doing that." Though she doesn't seem upset, just a little ruffled as she fixes her glasses and tugs on the furry collar of her coat. "If they don't want credits, the best I have to offer in return is information. Hopefully that will appease them."</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>"Well we're about to find out!" Magnus calls out as their wagon gradually comes to a halt under its own weight. They'd end up completely stopped and Magnus would pull the handbreak at the edge of... was that... was that a train?! Holy shit, yes it was, hidden behind one of the dunes on grounds more solid than the shifting sands was a honest-to-goodness diesel locomotive, with seven carts attached to its massive engine at the front. The camp the nomads had made was just a few pitched tents in a circle with a firepit in its middle, but now it was clear where these wandering desert folk were living. How they'd gotten this railway repaired and this locomotive operational was something to boggle about, but it would explain why they stuck to a routine, it seems. </p>
<p></p>
<p>"Garry!" Magnus opens his arms as another fennec just a few inches shorter than the desert fox himself dives in and gives his dad a tight hug. Garry was a fine young lad, fit and well toned, with a rifle across his back, an eyepatch over his right eye and raggy survivor's clothing. Sturdy pants, a dust-blasted shirt and a backpack slung over one shoulder. "Heya dad, you're looking as ugly as ever." He'd joke, earning a shoulder-punch from his old man. "Look who's talking, you got a face that'd crack a sink. Right, uhhh... business. We'l lcatch up later. Garry, this is my team of the day." he'd wave towards the others. </p>
<p></p>
<p>The scruffy fennec nods and casts them all a smile. His tone is cheery and distinctly male, though not coarse or deep, boyish... one supposes. "Right, we have been here for thirty minutes, that's less than the engineers expected, but we DO have to get underway, the one you'll wanna talk to is Sigmond. He's the big german shep looking-bastard in camp. He basically calls the shots, but mind yourselves. I overheard him saying he's ready to milk this deal for everything it's worth. If you wanna get on his good side, I recommend you make him laugh, he loves a good joke." Garry nodnods twice and puts his hands together. "That's all I can really say." the fennec follows with a shrug. There wasn't much to this caravan, one can easily tell Sigmond among them, the other members of this operation being two humans, a feline-looking girl and another fennec all huddled up in the camp, leisurely conversing. If there were others, odds were they were in the train...</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>Uvi opens the door and slithers out of the car onto dry ground, a waterfall of pink coils spilling behind her. Shielding her eyes from the sun and noticing the train, she curses, "Ah shit, there goes my fucking plan.." Adjusting her glasses, the lamia adds, "Alright, so whose cock do I suck to get these parts.. Sigmund, huh..?"</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard boops the satyr on his sniffy nose with a single finger, then keeps pushing. "Save it for later. We've got business." He looks over his shoulder as he exits the car. "I promise you, it'll be better back in the bubble anyway." Richard decides to stay close to the car in case things go bad. Probably won't, but you never know. As Uvi sneks past him, he gives a quick nudge and asks her, "Hey, something funny I thought of that's been bugging me for a while. Why isn't 'lettuce' pronounced like it's an Italian word? I mean, it's spelled like one." He winks to her and lets her go on her way.</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>Escherr keeps tapping the roof to the music in his head still of the Daft Punk kind listening to each talk, flirt, and recover from the jump. Though hearing a few things made him duck his head inside and look to the bat "Information you say? We may need to talk after this thing is over." </p>
<p></p>
<p>Though looking back and seeing more appear that would gape any maw in suprise. And many say those out here can't do shit. They get things repaired faster then some of the other groups." Not that he would ever say that outloud to the main groups.... He may not be an Engineer but this still got him excited enough that his tail flicked and swished wanting to get closer. </p>
<p></p>
<p>Then the sudden attack from outside to inside the car but luckily it was not a cannibalistic mutant but family well the foxes family giving a bit of a wave and a beaming toothy smile at introductions. "We talking what kinda jokes here? Dad jokes, improve, puns?" Slipping from the vehicle through the window and rolling out to his feet.</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu grins at Richard. The satyr will have to try and curtail himself, but it *is* so very hard with such a handsome man. In the meantime, he hops out of the jeep, giving a low whistle at the sight of the train. "I do believe this locomotive came from a nearby train museum. Nicely done, I must say." He casts a glance over the few people outside the train, and hmms. They look like they could use a pick-me-up...</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris bounces from his seat to the ground. ?Let?s roll!" he crows, then the tanuki actually rolls himself up into a furry ball and bounces along, rolling around legs and tails and tents in a wild curlyque route that eventually brings him nearly to the feet of Sigmond and his cohorts before popping to his feet with a wave of his ridiculous stetson. </p>
<p></p>
<p>?Howdy!? he says, grinning. Then he looks around at the little gathering. He nods, reaches for his gun holster. . . and produces a large gourd with the Japanese kanji for sake. At his current height, the gourd looks especially large. ?Let?s do this!? he says. The mad little furball certainly does not waste time.</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Stepping out of the transport, Nena stretches out and rubs at her hip, still minorly sore from the road stunt. "That's one way to make an impression," she says, her tone one of amusement in regards to Uvi's comment. Tucking her hands back into her pockets, she gives a shake of her head. "Sorry, my knowledge of English does not really include jokes. Especially not playing with words." So, she'll let the others do the buttering up, while she watches, and scrutinizes, taking stock of the caravan, the train, and any cargo she might be able to see... "... I miss trains," she says with a wistful sigh. "They aren't as big in the states as back home I think, in terms of use. Except the subways I suppose..."</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>"Well well well, I expected a buncha hoity toity suits coming here promising me the world, and what we get is a clown with booze." The shep around them grins, eliciting a few chuckles from the group around him. Two of them already had their rifles drawn and pointed towards Fenris, but Sigmund casts them a wave of the hand, and the barrels are lowered. "I'll take some of your booze if that's on the list of goods, but you and your gang better have more'n some fire water if you want your parts. I take it you're the ring leader then." Sigmund assesses Fenris, then stands up from his spot and wraps an arm around the eager tanuki. </p>
<p></p>
<p>"Let's go and have us a look at what you kind folks have brought over." The canine growls quietly, then looks back towards the tents. "Get the parts ready! Don't hand them off without my order!" he'd bark, before approaching the jeep, Fenris likely still in his grasp. "Garry, this your boys?" he'd huff at the fennec, earning a nod and a salute from the wee lad. "Off you go, help the engineers prepare for our departure." Sigmund orders, and Garry excuses himself with a nod, one more hug with his dad, and a wave before darting off to handle his duties. The large shep crosses his arms and looks around. "Well? I'm waiting..." He'd snarl menacingly. Magnus rolls his eyes and hooks a thumb to the trunk of the jeep, before opening it up. </p>
<p></p>
<p>The pair of males examine what was about a week's worth of supplies in water, canned food and various other goodies, before Sigmund would nod slowly. "That's a start, but not close enough." The canine cracks his knuckles. "Me and the boys coughed up half a cart of salvage and cotton fabric for these parts. I can't even give you one servo for this. What else ya got?" he'd practically bark, clearly not a fan of wasting his time~</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>The jello-lamia quirks her eyebrow, forming a confused look on her face. She briefly responds to Richard, "Huh? I'm sorry, the only thig I know about Italy is pizza and pasta." She then quickly turns to Nena and says, pouting her mouth, "Hey it was a funny metaphor! A metaphor!" Folding arms on her small chest, she mumbles while scanning the surroundings for signs of ambush or other danger, "I-I have standards, after all." However, glancing over Sigmund, she quickly assesses that he indeed meets her standards, and she unbuttons few buttons of her shirt, just in case. A handy negotiating trick she was taught once. Figuring out it would be better to not whore herself right in front of the whole squad, she remains silent for now. Looking at the shep once again, she cant help but bite her lip, though.</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard relaxes by the car. He mutters to himself "...but it doesn't make any sense..." as he waits. Seriously, what's up with lettuce?</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>"Would you rather the suits show up? They woudn't get their outfits dirty is why they hire us. Plus they would try to be top dog when cleary thats your role. Something you have trained for and earnered right" Shooting for lame puns at first as moves about looking over a few things of the camp and thr train itself. Slinking about here and there, cat like motions of inspection and moving across the scene and bending odd ways when he talks to others. "Servo is no good to you so is junk in comparison that you have to lug around. With that though" Thumbing to the active train "Could maybe set up drop offs if this is your route you normally take. Can't pack to much in that car and you mentioned speed was important. If not for that could of brought a truck a long way. What comforts you missing?" Fishing in his own pockets some and pulling out junk food such as chips, chocolate, and sodas. Not a lot but comfort foods. "Easy to find and an ocasional treat ever try chips dipped in chocolate its strange i know but for some reason it works!" Opening his arms some and smiling big. "Has to be better then the sand-wich is out here" Letting the joke sink in some. "Can get a few to build a nice stockpile and any other sweets you want" Also waving said treats so others in the tribe could see them.</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu snickers at Richard. "I thought it was funny, mate..." Then he slowly makes his way toward the leader. "My dear sir... I bring you this." He opens his satchel, and pulls out a portable DVD player, a solar charger, and 15 DVDs of classic films. "I am authorized to offer you freecred as well... However, this DVD player is worth two whole servos, *at least*..."</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris allows himself to be led along, and does not seem to mind the clown comments. ?The sake is a traditional part of negotiations,? the tanuki explains, ?But if you are in a hurry, I guess we can skip it.? The squat little tanuki frowns as Zephyr?s contribution is shown immediately and without preamble. Beimg the first to give a solid offer was a bit of a blow to his inner haggler, especially since the other side would not be offering anything but their initial offer. </p>
<p></p>
<p>?I may be able to sweeten the pot a little,? he offers, producing a small box from. . . somewhere. It smells kind of like corndogs, but when the tanuki opens it, he reveals twelve, carefully packaged, perfectly ripe peaches. The sweet smell that wafts from them is the sort of thing no nanites could possibly replicate.</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Nena makes a little face is distate at that. Suits? No thanks. She hangs out on the fringe of the group, listening to offers being made. And, she waits. Once all the other offers are out on the table, only then does the bat make her own contribution. Hands pulled from her pockets, she turns her empty palms up. "I have no items to give you," she admits. "But what I have instead is opportunity. Information. I have friends and connections I'm in regular contact with in southern California. I have information accordingly on things that are in demand there. What it is they want. Things they would be willing to trade well for, should your route take you that way."</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>The canine's attention is thankfully drawn before he'd feel his time was being wasted. As Escherr speaks, he'd raise his brows and cover his face at that terrible pun. As the feline goes on, Sigmund at the very least listens him out, his attention drawn to the sweets, seemingly interested in the tasty treats, though in the end... "I have a group to take care of, I'm not gonna hand over the servos for pocket candy, and we aren't making this place a regular stop either, the only reason we even considered it is the rotten fucking weather has forced the local menaces to pack up and move south. Keeping on the move is what protects us, it's our first line of defense and I'd rather we never need to come to our last either." The canine pats the revolver at his hip. </p>
<p></p>
<p>Casting a glance over towards the satyr that'd addressed him, Sigmund reaches out and picks up the player, and looks it over. "Alright, I'm sure the boys would like to hook this up to the old TV we got in the back, but you're stretching your luck if you think this is worth even one servo." He'd scowl deeply and place the DvD back in Bleu's hand. He doesn't seem disuaded yet however, in fact by the look in his eyes, his interest was piqued at least partially. The canine was mulling things over. Fenris' offer comes in harder than a lead weight as the canine spots that fresh, ripe, perfect fruit. "The boys would love these..." he'd think to himself and start rubbing his chin. Then Nena speaks up, her words flowing like wine as she proposes a trade of a different variety. The canine's brows lower and he shakes his head. "We move from camp to camp, don't have much freedom to do otherwise until the rails are better fixed, but... I'll hear you out anyway. You're making some decent offers... but..." He's about to give in, perhaps just a light nudge is all he needs...</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu starts to place the DVD player back into his satchel. "I paid 10,000 freecred for this..." He eyes the canine. "But I'll be willing to trade it at a loss to myself."</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>The bespectacled lamia sighs, taking the sniper rifle off her back, and gently placing it in the trunk, before kissing it goodbye. Yes, she kisses a gun. She really likes her guns, okay? Looking straight into Sigmund's eyes, she says, "Take my rifle." She stops for a moment and points at the train with her elicate finger. "I don't see any snipers over there, so I'm sure it will come in handy some time... And if that's not enough, there are other ways I could serv-o you." She smirks, unfastening another button of her shirt.</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard sees the glint of metal on the canine's belt. He calls out to Sigmund. "Nice iron you've got there. Probably leaves capacity to be desired, though." He turns away and draws a sleek, black pistol of his own. Its magazine drops free with a flick of the thumb, and clears the chamber as well. He looks through the empty magazine well and chamber at Sigmund before placing the gun, ammo, and a few spare magazines down on the hood of the car. "Guarantee you this has at least double the round count of the one you have." He points to the end of the barrel, which has a long tube mounted to it. "Comes with everything you see here, including the suppressor. User servicable, as everything should be nowadays. Less than 150 decibels per shot, even when it's fouled." His pointing finger wanders to the frame of the gun, "And as you can see here, it's the same model that US Secret Service and spec-ops used before P-Day. Alice is a good, local gun-runner. I don't know how she does it 'Nother good one across the bridge south of the east forest, right on the edge of the bubble, but he's a bit out of my way." On the frame of the gun, there's a factory-new etching of the manufacturer's logo. 'Sig.'</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>Escherr runs a few nails at his neck in thought and getting the feel things were close to a deal. "They are going to way you down if your always moving, though that does have to get boring." Motioning at the diffrent things "Your always going to be trading for the basics thats just a given. Some of us can chip in creds as well, easy to handle always easy to move but everyone needs a break even badasses like you and your group." Giving a bit of a shrug. "Is just common nature or burnout. Let the kid enjoy some time with dad" Pointing to Mags "We can stick around for a short time, booze" pausing a bit "Good booze, food that can be crated into some great trearts and old movies. Could probably even work something with canvas and parts to make a projector. Lets make it a party before you head out and bring some music, fun and damn life to the dessert. We were told we arrived early so you have some time right?" Watching the lamia make suggestions "Is also that and a few of us can shift to many desires."</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris gently sets the small box of peaches aside and removes his earrings, suddenly growing back to his normal size. The burly tanuki rolls his neck and stretches his thick arms before drumming a quick tattoo on his expansive belly. ?We can even do the loading,? he offers, flexing in his tight, plaid shirt. </p>
<p></p>
<p>He shakes his head as more and more offers are made, getting increasingly. . . carnal. ?They?re servos, people, machine parts,? he grins warmly, ?But I admire a guy who wants to bleed Big Bad Z.? He waggles his big gourd of sake, ?I?m still willing to share if you want some time to mull it over.?</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Nena tilts her head to the side, arms folding again. "Even if you're only able to stop at pre-defined camps, I am sure the trade routes would take you near enough. So, I'll share what I've got for you in that regard, as part of our end of the deal. Of course, if it's not enough, ontop of all the firearms my associates are willing to trade... Hmm. I could also probably spill a little on what some other traders are running, if you have an interest on getting a leg up on competition." Though, she is not offering herself like some of her companions, and as such, makes no comment on carnal matters. The bat woman doesn't want to get dragged into that potential affair.</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>The canine raises a brow and growls softly. "We are here to do business, if they want time together, I will let Garry off on our next crossing, then pick him up on the one after. I need him right now." The canine's hand strikes his chin as more and more offers come. He'd raise his brows at the mention of guns, then takes a moment to examine those offered to him. "This is a nice rifle, I am sure Sorcha would love this... she's been henning me for a better hunting rifle for a long time now..." he'd mutter to himself, then considers the pistol as well. "I'm not one for all this techno-babble, but we do need more weapons." Casting a glance among the group, he'd the sigh softly and nod towards Fenris. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do." </p>
<p></p>
<p>Clasping his hands together, the shep states his proposition. "I'll take a barrel of that sake and those peahces from you." he'd point towards Fenris. "Deliver them to camp. Now." He then turns towards Bleu. "I'll take the DVD player and your collection. Hand them over, now." Sigmund then grabs Uvi's rifle, but declines her offer. "No need for that, we are in a hurry anyway." Turning towards Escherr. "We have a kid with us... he'd like some sweets. I'll take those from you." The canine then turns towards Magnus and nods. "Have all these delivered to our camp, bring over the supplies from Zephyr, and you can have your servos. Chop chop! I ain't got all day!" he'd call out, clearly unwilling to dawdle any further. Packing Bleu's offerings into his pack, the canine then nods towards Nena and offers to walk with her, see what secrets she'll spill...</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris spends 1 rare edible salvage to: Perfect Peach Parley</p></div><div title="Uvi"><p>The serpentine lady turns around and mumbles to the group, "Hmphf, I was bluffing anyway. I have standards, after all." She hastily slithers back to the jeep, wanting to get the best seat, as well as to go home as soon as possible. She appears to be that type who doesn't like staying out of bubble or too long. Fastening her seatbelt, she says, "Remind me later to file the bloody paperwork and force Zephyr to reimburse me for my rifle."</p></div><div title="Richard"><p>Richard shrugs. "Too much salesmanship? All right. I'll break it down for you. Fifteen shots per magazine, plus one in the chamber. Makes about as much noise as a popping balloon. Keep it oiled and it'll keep you alive." He reaches down and hands the unloaded gun grip-first to the sheepdog. "Plus it's got your name on it. I'd feel bad NOT giving it to you." He would let the dog in charge take it from him and cross his arms over his chest, smiling. "Seriously, if you need old-world guns, ask for Alice. Runs a store out of a bunker in Northwest Fairhaven. Trades in scrap and food. The other guy... Mike, I think he's called? He's building his own guns and they're not half bad." He glances over to Uvi's huffy exit, then back to Sigmund. "... guess she and I wore the same outfit to this party. Hope to see you again sometime." He exchanges farewells with the leader and chats briefly with the uninfected humans before returning to the car.</p></div><div title="Escherr"><p>Escherr gave a shrug as thought it was a good idea but maybe came on to strong with overly friendly, would have to shelve the fossa for awhile if that was the case. Even more amusing at his ofers went to kids but probably one of the older ones here. Being stuck in a mall on P-day left him with a constant habbit and knowledge of comforts and junk food. He was sure even the grizzled dog would indulge just not openly. For now the feline would help and carry things back and forth and help where needed. Leaving a nice little pile of goods, never under estimate how much deep pockets can carry and they were full after the recent holiday of sugar. Once everything was squared off he slipped back ontop of the ride knowing would be long way home and possibly no jumps.</p></div><div title="Bleu"><p>Bleu hands over the DVD player and the movies. What he doesn't mention is that he has more old tech in his bag, but that's fodder for another day. Transaction complete, he moseys on over to Richard, with a pleasant smile. "So, you're a gun man, eh? You should show me what you're "packing" sometime..."</p></div><div title="Fenris"><p>Fenris assumes that by barrel, Sigmond means a gourd. The big tanuki shrugs and picks up his box of peaches and an armload of Zephyr supplies and makes the short trip to the camp. He lays out the supplies wherever he is directed, then gets ready to haul away Magnus?s servos. He is curious to see what he traded his peaches for. It was just as well that he traded them since they wouldn?t stay good forever.</p></div><div title="Nena"><p>Nena wanders off with the man, once the others have concluded their own negotiations. A deal was a deal, and she would happily speak of both the needs of other places in the state, and what other caravans and trading rings were providing. Not that she knew everything, but, what she knew, she could speak on.</p></div><div title="Magnus"><p>With their work complete, the finishing actions come as swiftly as the agents had arrived. The two massive wooden crates full of their confirmed payload are loaded onto the trink of their jeep, and the journey back would be... mostly uneventful. The folks at the labs are gonna have a good day...</p></div>[[Category:RPLogs]]

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:35:54Z

Slippery Richard: Added to RPlogs category

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)
=Date=
11/3/2019

*The remainder of [[Peach Parlay Afterparty - RPLOG]]. NSFW as heck.

=Log=
Richard grins deviously. "We're going to play a drinking game. I guess wrong, I drink. I guess right, you drink. No lying." He leans onto the counter. "You have a favorite gender."

Bleu smirks, but he pulls out a second glass, setting it beside Richard's. "You're right." He pours whiskey into his glass, and downs it in one gulp. "Can you guess which one, though?"

Richard narrows his eyes and says confidently, "Women. Like the satyrs of legend."

Bleu smirks, and shakes his head. "Wrong. While I do appreciate a beautiful female... Nine times out of ten it's a handsome man, such as yourself, that gets my attention the most..."

Richard's eyebrows raise, then lower again. He swipes a shot glass from the counter and downs the burning liquid in two gulps. "I might have been projecting on that one. To each their own, I guess." As he's putting down his glass, he remembers the presence of the third man in the room. "...Do you hear that? I think he fell asleep. We should find someplace to put him."

Bleu perks an ear, and he grins. "Think I'll set him on my mantel. See how long he stays there... Guess my wine was a little strong." He picks up the amphora, admiring all the sexy satyrs and cute tanuki, and carries it over to his fireplace, setting it up in a good spot. "With regards to your projecting, anyway... Don't think I haven't noticed you're male herm... Like I am. I can smell it. A lovely mix of feminine and masculine scents..."

Richard smiles and nods sagely. "Mmmhm. Plenty of options. Now, next question: you prefer humanoid forms." He would cut off any protests the Bacchanalian makes before they even begin. "I know. Fuck you, we're getting drunk."

Bleu refills his glass. "You're correct, but I ought to call that a cheat..." He grins, and downs his glass of whiskey, doesn't seeming like he really minds. "I sometimes take on some exotic shapes myself, but I do adore a handsome human..."

Richard says "Amen to that. I'm not necessarily into men, but some stand out from the crowd, and if there's one right in front of me, who am I to refuse?" He leans away from the counter. Looks like his sense of balance isn't all gone just yet. "You have a preference between being on top and being the bottom."

Bleu nods again, with another shot to follow. "Correct again. Which one do you think I prefer, though?"

Richard calmly states, "You've been eyeing me like a piece of meat all day. Top."

Bleu blushes, which is remarkable, because his fur is already red. "I, ah... Can hardly help myself. This one is a somewhat complicated answer," he continues, filling his glass. "I used to be a strict bottom, but I grew much more confident after becoming a satyr. I do prefer to top now, yes." He tosses back the shot, not seemingly affected by the alcohol even now.

Richard smirks like the smug bastard he is. "...Plenty of options..." He says to nobody inparticular. "All right. You like 'em big, but not huge. In the pants, I mean."

Bleu's filling his glass faster and faster with each question it seems. Knocking it back, he nods his head. "Yessss. Big, but not *too* big. How are you reading me so well?"

Richard puts his weight forward on the counter again. "Like a piece of meat. Figured either you're a total slut, or I was already pushing the right buttons. He grabs a glass and takes the tiniest of sips from it. "Honestly, I like to go fuckin' crazy with myself. Best night's sleep I ever had was sleeping on my own cock." He lifts the glass away from his face and points at Bleu with his forefinger, the rest of them still curled around the cup of ambrosia. "You're into major size difference, though. Like, thirty foot tall folks or ones that can sit in the palm of your hand." He raises an eyebrow, and the shot is already heading back towards his mouth...

Bleu gives that some thought. "Eh, only sometimes, on very specific occasions." He smirks. "I *can* be cajoled into it, though..." He looks away with a cough. "As for being a slut, well... What can I say? I'm a horny goat, err, kangaroo..."

Richard grunts. Half of the shot goes down the hatch. "Call that a maybe. Too bad the floor'd fall out if I really cut loose here." He curls his forefinger back around the rim of the glass, extending the rest to make a waving motion with a flick of the wrist. "Go ahead and change into whatever. Or stay as that. Your call." He clears his singed throat. "You've got a favorite body type." Another 50/50 question that skews in his favor. "Yeah, fuck you. *WE* are getting drunk."

Bleu takes that moment to settle back into his satyr shape, though he does rather enjoy being a marsupial. "Right again." He tips back his glass, and downs the whiskey. He's starting to feel the effects of the booze, which is not something that happens all that often. "I generally like a little pudge, but not too obese. Though muscles are sexy... You got a lot of muscle under that shirt, don't you? I'm gonna have to get you undressed..."

Richard downs the other half of the shot. "You didn't make me guess what." Now empty, he slaps the glass onto the countertop. He keeps the glass in his hand. Mostly. There's a bit of fumbling going on. "Hell, you tell me." he says as the clothes around him wither away into a cloud of dust. That dust embeds itself in his skin, forming green tattoos of intricate, curvy script across his slim, athletic upper body that looks like something out of a Tolkein novel. What does it say? Might be 'he cannot understand this, so I can write anything' or something. Or 'nothing is permanent.' It's anyone's guess. "This mutation's adaptable as fuck, man. Can't go full beefcake with it, but everything else is fair game. You want a muscle-beast? I got fiv- five hundred forms, 'n a few favorites that'd be just what you're looking for."

Bleu bites his lower lip as soon as the elf's clothing turns into dust, and the dust becomes histattoos. The satyr steps forward, looking up and down that attractive, athletic form. "Yes... Let me tell you..." He smiles. "You're gorgeous... *Just* like this. Five hundred forms puts me to shame, though..." He closes the gap between himself and Richard. "It's all I can do to keep my hands off of you..."

Richard slurs "Issat so?" He stands from the barstool on (somewhat) stable legs "Bet you say that toanyone who comes into your house and drinks with ya." The tips of his ears are starting to get red. "Pour me another. I just guessed somethin', and one of us is gonna have to down it." The only thing keeping him a bit modest are some Promethean armor plates he had strapped over the mutation's clothes. "Pour it..."

Bleu smirks at his new friend's inebriation. True to form, while he is feeling buzzed, the satyr is holding his liquor far better. "You sure you want more, Sexy?" Regardless, he fills the glass, his gaze fixed on the elf. "Shall I help you hobble over into my bed?"

Richard snatches the glass with sluggish hands. "Not even BOTHERING to answer that one!" He bellows, seemingly ignorant of the attempt to cut him off. "Y'know what? You pour another, we drink at the same time for that. Then we find this bed you're talking about." His free hand points in the vague direction of the satyr. "Drunk you. We're getting... gonna fuck."

Bleu grins. They've completely emptied the bottle, so he cracks open a second, pouring out another round of shots. "You're reserved when sober, but I think you make a funny drunk. C'mon, we shall drink to your health!" He tosses back, then offers an arm for Richard to lean on.

Richard Raises his glass for a clumsy toast. "Cheers. To new friends, t' stuff we did with Magnus at the train, an' to fuuuuck I *am* drunk." He accepts the helping hand without a second thought (or much of a first one, really) and after the toast, he would raise his glass to the ceiling, coming dangerously close to spilling it. "You're all right by me, wine god. I love you, man." Finally, he slams back the glass and lets it fall to the carpet from his limp fingers. "Now come on, I ai'n gon' wait fer him to get here 'n have a threesome."

Bleu's arm settles right around the elf's shoulders, the dropped glass being naught but anafterthought. Clean up comes later. "Mmm, you're cute when you're drunk. I thought you were cute earlier, too. Come along, cutie-pie..." Off into the bedroom, over to the bed. The satyr helps the elf to lie down, before he tips over onto the floor, or someplace else. "Mmm, like my bedroom?"

Richard goes all but limp, face up on the mattress. Stumbling is a tiring way to get around. The remainder of his armor has fallen off on the unbalanced walk to this warm and soft nice place that is good, leaving him totally exposed. His uncircumcised dick is currently set to 'whiskey.' It drapes over a pair of fist-sized balls and almost touches the mattress below. He lazily reaches down to his sack and paws it upwards, revealing a perfect, hairless set of lips and big ol' clitty that brushes up against the back of his scrote. "'Sgood. Ohhhhh fuck I am drunk. Fuck me till I pass out. Then... then wake me up and fuck me again."

Bleu giggles like a schoolboy at Richard's state. "I say, you're either going to be massively embarrassed tomorrow, or very pleased with yourself." He smirks, settling onto the bed alongside the drunken elf, his gaze fixed on those perfectly formed lips that he knew were there all along. The sight causes his vaguely equinoid-shaped cock to twitch, and slip free of his sheath. "When somebody makes such a desperate plea, I cannot refuse, of course. Let me just... Get into place..." he murmurs, before showering kisses to Richard's bare chest, and climbs up over his prone form.

Richard moans at the attention. He is warm. He is comfortable. He is wanted. He is going numb and it makes those little points of pleasure and pressure from the satyr's lips all the more pleasant. He needs to focus to really make out what's going on aside from 'feels nice.' For the moment, he still can.

Bleu is only too happy to provide his partner with all the pleasure he can, and those kisses steadily work their way up over his chest and collar bone, to the elf's neck, as the satyr maneuvers into position over the other male. It only takes a few moments, really, but perhaps it feels longer, before the satyr's flared tip can be felt gently spearing Richard's folds, as Bleu takes his time with ensuring this first penetration is as pleasurable as possible. "Mmm, you're so warm," he whispers, between kisses. "I know you're super drunk... Probably can't come up with too much of a coherent response..."

Truth be told, this mythical makeout session did get a bit of a response. Not a conscious one, butit's something. Richard's cock twinges at the instinctive realization that hey, there's another person here! And that person's gonna have sex with you! Up and at 'em, champ! Groggy as a hungover elf is going to be, Richard's manlier half chubs up enough to drag across the inside of his thigh under its own power. Meanwhile, the hand holding those nuts out of the way wanders a little further down, poking at his pleasure buzzer. He feebly pushes his hips in to the pressure that's trying to spread his sex.

Bleu can see his guest growing aroused, and he grins. "Mmm, don't mind if I do," he murmurs, curling the fingers of his left hand around Richard's growing erection. At the same time, he takes advantage of the elf's feeble push to help press his own shaft into those waiting depths. His kisses grow more passionate, as they crest over Richard's jaw, and over his lips.

Now it's right up in his face. He may be drunk off his ass, but he recognizes this person. With his finite amount of dexterity, Richard ceases his vaginal ministrations to paw at Bleu's back with his other hand. He ends up dropping his forearm somewhere onto the satyr's ribs, then running his hand (well... his wrist, with his hand bent at an odd angle) up his fellow half-man's spine. This clumsy caress ends with a limp grip on one of the satyr's horns. His tongue feels like a floppy lead weight. Not much he can do to kiss back, but a gold star for effort. Speaking of 'horns,' that flared rod of Bleu's is getting intimately acquainted with bits that Richard wasn't born with. They're soft. VERY soft. Like a fleshlight made of memory foam and filled with... it's moving in there. Sweet Aphrodite,it's actually massaging the intruding cock and trying to pull it in further! It's safe to say that those are bits that NOBODY was born with just twelve years ago. Even the dick in Bleu's hand is heavenly soft, despite the fact that it's stiffening to the point where the foreskin is pulling back.

Bleu tilts his head slightly, his tongue prodding at Richard's, the kiss growing sloppier by the moment. The satyr doesn't appear to mind, however. In the meantime, his veiny shaft is plumbing those velvety soft depths, helped along by the other male-herm's pulling sensation. At this rate Bleu will be balls deep in no time. He doesn't want the elf to miss out, either, his hand slowly caressing that sinfully soft member.

The silky-smooth shaft responds well to the continued ministrations, stiffening further and growing ever so slightly firmer. If the insides were memory foam, the external component to Richard's sex is closer to a heavy dough. Soft. Springy. Heavy. The satyr's fingers leave momentary indents where they pass, fading out of existence with each throb of the still-growing meat. It's all the way up to either of their sternums and sagging rigidly under its own weight each time Bleu reaches the nadir of his strokes. Also nearly to Richard's sternum is the animalistic cock of this party animal. Any second now, those instinctual contractions, that steady pushing, and the weak rocking of his hips are going to bring them closer together than ever before. Richard tries to say something soft and sweet, but there's another guy's mouth in his way. Not that it matters. It'd sound the same even without any hindrance.

Bleu's ears perk when he thinks he hears the elf try to say something, but he's too busy still kissing said elf to pay much heed. Instead, his attention is still fixed on both that fascinatingly pliant dick he's slowly jerking off, and the soft, hot cunny he's pressing his more equine-like dick into. He's soon bottomed out, too. That soft warmth is very nice, like a warm blanket caressing his cock. He could get used to it. But he can't just hold still like that forever. All his basest satyr instincts are screaming at him to rut this lover like mad. And he can't resist instinct...

Richard's pair of grapefruit-sized balls rest against Bleu's belly. Soft, soft, soft. It seems as if the nanites concentrated all of the tenderness in one place when crafting this mutation's marathoner's physique. Within that velvety sack, two balls that feel more like lumps of clay weigh heavily between the two impossibly-gendered 'men.' Richard drapes his previously unoccupied hand across Bleu's back, smearing just a drop of female fluids over the goat-man's skin while barely maintaining a grip on that horn with the other. They could stay like this. It's nice. It's warm and relaxing. It leaves something to be desired. Richard may not even realize that his cunt's moving of its own volition, pulling Bleu's baton within a hair's breadth of his cervix. It's not close enough. The elf's hips fidget in an attempt to close the gap. Whether or not he meant to, he moves in just such a way that his partner's shaft pushes on the undulating muscles inside his sopping wet tunnel of love, and those in turn put pressure on Richard's prostate. The elven man makes yet another noise at the sensation no non-mutant could feel, though this one was never meant to carry any verbal meaning. His prick is at full mast and full hardness, just under a foot long. It pulses outward against Bleu's fingers with a surprising amount of firmness. A bead of clear, thick liquid builds at his tip...

The satyr still hasn't moved yet. The animalistic voice at the back of his brain keeps telling him to rut Richard with everything he's got, but the simple pleasure of being hilted within his lover's warm, vibrating cunt is quite simply wonderful. He becomes dimly aware that Richard's cunt is still drawing him in, however. More pleasant sensations to compliment everything else that's rocking his body right now. The satyr doesn't even really need to rut the elf. His arousal, and the climax that will surely follow, is building quite nicely on its own, so perhaps it's more enjoyable to let the elf's body do all the milking, after all. Beyond that, Bleu's right hand slowly caresses Richard's side, whilst his left remains fixed on the pulsing prick in his grip. The satyr reluctantly breaks the kiss, and he casts his glance down, as if hungering to give the tip a lick. "Well... Mmm... Bet that's tasty. Wonder if I can reach it with my tongue..."

'More.' That's probably the most cogent thought Richard can muster. His hips are moving in lazy, frantic circles as he tries to find that feel-good spot again. His cunt keeps pulling inward in waves to make sure the possible source of even more pleasure can't - and wouldn't want to - leave. "More," he mumbles aloud. Body nanites shrug to themselves and take the confused signals coming from his mind as a command. The sleek sylvan shlong pulses with his alcohol-addled heartbeat. On every beat, it pulses. On every pulse, Bleu finds his fingers able to encompass less and less of the rod. It's not getting harder. It's getting wider. Pulse. Thumb to pinky finger might get around it. Pulse. Make that the ring finger. Pulse. Okay, *maybe* the middle finger if he squeezes. Pulse. Scratch that. It's as thick as a soup can and the impatient, glossy red bell on the tip is up past Bleu's floating ribs. Wait... wasn't it- Pulse. It's up to the ribs proper. Throb. Inching towards the collarbone. Throb. It's resting just under Bleu's chin. He becomes aware that the weight against his abs is also heavier and buliker, each nut well up to the size of a coconut. All in all, everything seems to have grown half again in size. As outside, so inside. Richard's precum factory swells to keep pace with the rest of the production line. His tongue dangles over the corner of his lips as he discovers that his slowly shuffling hips don't need to aim for a particular target anymore. The G-spot is real, and in his case, it exists in duplicate. The surface tension on the natural lube at his dick-tip breaks as more fluid leaks out. A drop of it runs under the curve of his glans, arcing along the spongy surface before it can run down the shaft only half a fingertip's breadth away from the crown's edge.

Bleu perks his ears again when his partner speaks the first coherent word in quite awhile. "More?" he asks, but just as quickly his question is answered. The satyr watches in rapt fascination as Richard's length begins to grow, longer, wider. His fingers no longer wrap as easily around that girth. On the other hand, the leaking tip is now within reach of the satyr's lips, and he'd be remiss to not treat his guest to a complimentary blowjob. And so, instead of kissing Richard's lips again, he dips his head down and begins to lap at the precum glistening on the crown of his lover's dick. Seems Bleu can have his cake and eat it too. In the midst of it all, Bleu is starting to slowly roll his hips along with Richard's movements, letting his cock rub along every single sensitive inch inside the other herm's pussy.

That broad-headed spear in Richard's folds is moving. At first, it only has one direction to go: out. His dumb expression mixes with a wince at the retreat of such a beloved new companion. All the muscles in contact with the rock-hard ram can do are slide past it as Richard's own lubrication works against him. A wave of relief and renewed pleasure wash over his entire body as that full feeling returns. His breath hitches as Bleu hilts again, welcomed back with a jolt of reflexive contractions. Upstairs, Richard's blurry, bleary eyes recognize that something's going on in another department. That shape is a good person, right? Must be. Couldn't be anything else. Feels so good... In a moment of shock, it feels *too* good. The other sensitive sexual slit at the very tip of his cock registers a warm, wet stroking. He squirms. His monstrous, malleable manhood twitches. Drunken digits claw at the covers, too weak to find any purchase. His executive office, already running on a skeleton crew, finds itself taking a break as a deluge of important documents arrive. All of them are good news with a minimum of paperwork, thankfully. Sign here for ecstasy. The motions of the man inside his womanhood massage an anatomical paradox of vaginal wall and prostate. What was once an intermittent drip of pre develops into a soft flow, draining upwards past hands that hold him close and a hard, solid chest.

Bleu is quite content to make this as slow and thorough a fucking as possible. The man he's breeding may be inebriated, but he'll be damned if this tryst won't be something the elf will remember for days afterward. That warm stroking at the tip of Richard's cock continues, intensifies. The goatman's tongue delves into the slit, and his hand slowly slides down along the side of that impressively-sized maleness. Within moments, Bleu is cupping Richard's wonderfully heavy balls, feeling their new heft, giving a teasing squeeze in order to egg him on to orgasmic bliss. The satyr's rocking motions remain fairly slow, though the output of his own precum is very heavy, lubricating that already soft and slickened passage he's fucking.

Wet and willing, if not very able, Richard's arms drag across the sheets with no destination. Irregular breaths and gasps emanate from the elf as the satyr drives him wild. Richard manages to get his jaw closed. Half of his lower lip is between his teeth. One eye is wide open, the other droops nearly closed. His toes curl, then his knees, brushing the back of his calves against the furry legs of his lovemaker. Combined fluids comingle between his thighs, forming a delta for the tributary of precum that makes its way down from the oasis at the tip. Saliva and salt slicken the whole end of his cock into a glossy beacon of bliss. A new pressure on his nutsack beckons one of his hands over to investigate. Like a dry octopus, the hand glides across the covers and up the side of his hip. When it finally gets there, it finds some weird bony thing with five little bony things sticking off of it. Whatever it's doing there, it feels pretty okay. He droops his hand over it to keep it there.

Bleu's head dips down lower... and lower, slowly engulfing more of Richard's cock within his maw. He's sucking hungrily, savoring the taste of the elf's pre, but eager for more. As Richard's hand covers his own, he gives yet another squeeze to that heavy sac, and he murmurs around the cock in his maw. Their combined lovemaking is messy indeed, combined fluids spilled out between them. The satyr's baser instincts are finally starting to win out, however, as his slow, steady rutting into Richard's hot pussy has worked him up to a climax, his heavy, fuzzy balls tensing up in preparation for letting loose a torrent of satyr cum within the elf's depths.

That soft wetness at his tip, those slicked sandpapery digits running up and down his cock, that cleaving presence inside of him and its gush of pleasure... it's more than a sober mind could bear, let alone for someone who's traded IQ for BAC. His breathing accelerates as he approaches his own climaxes. A rush of warmth fills Richard's spasming passage. The suffusing heat worms its way into every crevice. Like moonshine, but without the buzz. Buzz... oh right. What's left of his functioning grey matter recalls that there's a doorbell which could use a ringing. So far, it's gotten only teasing caresses from what feels like a cotton ball. He clutches the hand squeezing his cushy sack. With that hand occupied by reflexes, his other draws near to it, and then bypasses it and all obstructions with desperate dexterity. It's on a mindless masturbatory mission for more pleasure. Around the side of his scrote and to the nub at the center of it all. His fingers wipe through the slimy mess that's accumulating between his legs and fumble for their target. He finds it. No, wait, that's not it. he's numb, but not *that* numb. Especially not there. He's barely got any hair down there, either. Maybe if he pokes at it more things will start to make sense. He tenses his legs in a futile attempt to sit up, hoping to find more leverage. Instead, he finds a wide, wet, welcoming hole and a clitoris (somehow) at the bottom of it. This is making the opposite of more sense. He knows for a fact that his cunt is full (so full!) and the bean is supposed to be at the front, not the back. Did he somehow reach under himself? No, that wouldn't... y'know what? Thinking can wait until later. Keep prodding to figure out what this vag is doing here. Things will start to make the opposite of the opposite of more sense soon enough.

Bleu had been hanging there on the edge of a precipice. A yawning chasm that once plunged into would mark the release of everything the satyr is holding back. All he needs is a nudge. A push, to send him over. And when he's caught there, filling his lover whilst simultaneously sucking the elf's dick, that sudden, unexpected fingering of his own slick pussy and sensitive clit makes his eyes roll back,and he emits a muffled, bleating moan around the dick in his mouth. His whole body shudders with intense pleasure, and before he can even form another coherent thought his testes let loose, flooding Richard with his first heavy helping of satyr cum...

More of that warm sensation! As a bonus, something's making the bell end of his dick resonate, stirring every nerve in its bulbous tip. It doesn't make sense, and Richard doesn't care anymore. Do thing = feel nice inside. Do thing more = more nice feeling? Let's find out. This scientific process from a sloshed man with stars floating through his vision plays out as him crunching his legs in against those fuzzy pillars until they buckle. The unforseen outcome of this is a sudden impact against his chest, followed by a comforting weight that sandwiches the stupidly huge 18-incher against him. His hips rock in earnest, pushing the soft snake up and down against this unexpected presence that's spreading that warm feeling to his outside even as his insides keep getting stuffed with that cinnamon whiskey bottle burn. His precum is oozing steadily now. He dimly recognizes that his tatooed chest isn't pooling with the stuff. Doesn't matter. Hand's still down at a button that's communicating to him loud and clear 'Push Me' and an uncharted chasm. His twitching fingers move aimlessly about both. Not much more he can take...

Bleu finds himself suddenly yanked harder against the elf under him, which causes his still-cumming cock to get driven even further into the man he's breeding. He's still sucking off from the elf's cock, moaning fitfully around that girth while Richard continues to manipulate the satyr's clit, causing more explosions of pleasure in the back of his brain.

Richard keeps thrusting against the unknown surface and into the slick, tickling mouth of... yes. Yes, there is another person here. They're so close that even with his double vision he can focus on them. Beyond a foot or so, it's nothing but a blur. The fact that this person's head is just beneath his chin and he can still feel them lapping at the crown of his cock are absolutely lost on him. The the tingling heat of Bleu's seed inside him blossoms into a firestorm that consumes his entire body as the satyr's fitful thrust drives his hips against Richard's clit. Richard would be happy that his unintentionally roundabout approach worked if he had any idea what was going on. Instead, the most he can express is a loud, trailing moan as his female sex contracts harder and faster than before, frantically stroking the Dionysian dedicant's dick for every drop of cum it can get. His body goes stiff. Those curious fingers investigating the other cunt curl and quiver. Back up above, Bleu's skilled mouth and orgasmic moanings finally cause Richard's female orgasm to cascade into a simultaneous male one. The dam breaks when the goatman's tongue runs around the edge of Richard's crown and then ravenously back to the slit for another helping of pre. Richard's moan rises in volume once more, then is cut off by a rhythmic gasp-then-hiss which repeats in time with each spurt. The first shot to rush from his oversized nuts could fill half of a champagne glass in a single spurt. It's only the first of several.

There it is. The satyr tastes his partner's seed, and immediately swallows, groaning with pleasure as he does so. His own flow, on the other hand, is beginning to taper off right about, though his feminine orgasm is still cresting, a flush of fluids washing over the elf's still-questing fingers. The goat bleats, and sighs, his right arm gripping around Richard's waist even tighter, whilst his
left hand remains in place, squeezing and groping the heavy nutsack to coax out every...last...drop.

That groping encourages his partner's prodigious jizzmakers to keep going without the go-ahead from the upper head. It would have been on hold forever if it had waited for that. They gush continuously into the goatman's gullet. Each shot is a mouthful at minimum. The second spurt outstripped the first one in quantity by a narrow margin. The third is only moderately smaller than that, and with each pulse it decreases in amount by few thick and salty spoonfuls. Back at other end, Richard's motions are no longer under his control. Erratic jerking motions are limited only by his forearm, stuck between the two male-herms' hips, and the outer edges of Bleu's lower lips. Meanwhile, the other hand is grasping at Bleu's ball fondler. They grab the first solid thing they find - his wrist - and push that hand further into the mushy beanbags of baby-batter.

By now Bleu's cumming has dropped to a minimum. Only a couple spurts, here and there. He doesn't bother to even attempt to extract himself, however. He's too busy enjoying that afterglow, and continued gulps of semen from the other's cock, until even that begins to subside. They'd reached the top of the mountain, but now was the time to start coming down again, it seems. Slowly...so slowly, the satyr begins to draw his mouth away from his friend's cock, his tongue dragging up along the underside until his lips finally pull free, and he sighs. "Mmm... Gods... You're so tasty..."

Richard breathes ragged breaths, inhaling sharply when Bleu's last, lingering post-orgasmic lick hits him. Hot breath rolls across the cockhead before it can start to go limp. He shudders, a comparatively tiny gob of cum that'd been caugh halfway up his shaft working its way out. Someone's talking about tasty stuff, and frankly, he could go for a drink and a snack after all that sperm he shot. Closest thing to both of those is to recycle, and wouldn't you know it: there's a dollop of cream right there. It's even got a ringing endorsement from... he stops staring through the ceiling to check who. Goat...drinks...person. You know, that guy. With the drinks. If he says it's good, it must be. He releases his most available hand - the one on Bleu's wrist - and scoops a fingerful of it up. It's deposited in his mouth after only a couple of tries. Salty. Creamy. Pretty good, but there's not enough. No, wait, there's some over there. He goes to lick it up, not really caring that it's on the other guy's cheek. "Shumting ahn yer faesss..."

Bleu finally releases his grip on Richard's sac, slipping his left arm around the elf. He squeezes, still not withdrawing his shaft from the other's folds. The warmth around his cock is comforting, enjoyable. He sighs, and grins, giggling when Richard licks his face. "You're drunk off your ass, man. I don't know if you even know what I'm saying..." He slowly rubs Richard's back, content to hold him close.

"Fffffuck you. M'not drungh..." Richard...attempts to say. It's all a mumbled mess. "WeE're drumk. *On* myasssb." He groans contentedly as the other alleged lush pulls him close, running calloused hands across the landscape of lean muscle. He tosses his own arm over Bleu's body to reciprocate the gesture. Through the passage of time, the rush of sex, and the lack of distraction, he's regained some of his senses. Not firing on all cylinders, mind you, but it's a start. One of the first things he remembers is his manners. "Was graeph," he continues to try to speak, nuzzling into the space above Bleu's shoulder, "ffhanks." His speech is hampered mostly by the booze, but party by the sticky stuff still on his tongue. He could use another drink. What's on tap again? Oh yeah, there was one that was mentioned in particular. It's rude to drink alone when there's company, though. Especially if it's their cabinet you're drinking from. "Mm'therstee... mebbe we ken sherr some vvobker..." He trails off. Any tension in those muscles disappears in seconds. His hot, liquor-laced breath by Bleu's ear at regular intervals. Every now and then it hitches into a quiet snort before resuming.

Bleu's pretty goat ears prick upward at Richard's words, and he chuckles. "Me, drunk? Pish-posh. Imma satyr, my dear. Satyrs don't get drunk... At least not easily." He gives the elf a playful kiss to the nose. "Mmm, vodka, though? I feel like I should limit you to just one glass... Mmm, c'mon, let's get you up. I can't make the bottle levitate over here, after all." He starts to slowly try and shift the other man, tugging him close, and then lifting him off the mattress. "We'll move to my couch, get a fire going, and share that glass of vodka you want..."

He would find the elf completely unresponsive. Looks like the post-coitus crash has caught up to him. He could swear he saw the faintest of smiles on Richard's lips when that tender kiss landed, though. Given that Richard is six-foot-something tall and looks like he goes on 10k runs for the fun of it... that drink is going to have to come to him.

Bleu can't shift the elf but a few inches. Reluctantly, he'll have to pull himself away from Richard, to go grab that bottle. Whether Bleu will attempt to wake the sleeper is another question entirely.

Peach Parlay Afterparty - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:35:33Z

Slippery Richard: Added to RPlogs category.

[[Category:RPLogs]]
=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Fenris]] (male)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

And an OOC cameo appearance by [[Fluffess]]
=Date=
11/3/2019

*Took place immediately after [[Perfect Peach Parlay - RPLOG]]. Hosted by [[Bleu]].

=Log=
Bleu saunters right on into his apartment, looking quite satisfied with himself. Made a good tried, snogged his mate, and managed to get two cute guys to follow him home, too! "Welcome to Casa de la Bleu. Make yourselves at home... Can I get either of you anything? A drink? Snack?" He slips off his windbreaker, leaving himself entirely au naturale. "Isn't the view up here amazing?"

Fenris looks dumbfounded around the glorious penthouse apartment. "How does a satyr afford a place like this?" he asks, jaw almost on the floor, "just keeping the floors stable must cost a fortune
this high up!" He ogles the marble counters, then the furniture, then the jaccuzzi. Finally, he can keep his jaw hanging no longer and it snaps shut like a rolling curtain. "Definitely gonna want that drink," he says.

Richard asks, "What've you got available?" Taking in his surroundings, he can't help but crack wise. "Caviar and pre P-Day vintage alcohol? I'm with Fen on this. What's your secret?"

Bleu laughs. "No caviar, I'm afraid. Can't stand it. As for how I can afford it... I wasn't bluffing earlier when I said I spent 10k freecred on that player. I'm loaded. I've... Got a keen eye for business, I guess you could say." He approaches the minibar, and checks over the bottles. "Got some beer in the fridge. Wines, whiskey. One bottle of vodka I keep for my friends. Don't really care for the stuff." He pops open a bottle of wine. "The wine, incidentally, is almost all from... Well... I'm not sure I can explain. I'm an initiate of Dionysus, see?"

Fenris is a tanuki, the original booze hound. Any concerns he has are immediately silenced at the mention of giggle water. "You had me at Dionysus," he says, bellying up to the minibar, "Hit me!"

Richard finds that explanation a little lacking in the details department, but heck, he's a guest. No need to press the issue. He settles onto a barstool and says "One beer, please. Whatever's good." As for the other brief explanation, he just nods along. "Lotta gods coming out of the woodwork," he states, unslinging his long-guns and resting them under the seats of the mini-bar. "Makes sense that the god of having a good time would be interested in mortals' day-to-day affairs now..."

Bleu grins, and decides to demonstrate precisely what he means by 'unexplainable', as his two guests would find him suddenly holding a Roman decanter, from which he pours Fenris a glass of wine. Reaching under the bar, he also produces said beer. "I have no idea how it is that I can make wine appear out of thin air," he remarks.

Fenris is happy to partake of a little magical wine, gulping it happily from his glass and smacking his lips. The burly tanuki licks his whiskers and grins. "It's a good trick!" he says, holding out
his cup for a refill, "I like a practical god."

In the span of a single blink, Richard finds his host has acquired a container of wine that he certainly did not have before. Richard blinks a few more times before straightening up and saying, "Practical is right. The god of parties gave you a fantastic party trick. I think that's all we need to know about it."

Bleu laughs heartily, as he refills Fenris' glass. "Ha, well, Dionysus would be pleased to hear you both say that. A shocking amount of folks in Fairhaven still don't actually believe he exists, despite the ample evidence to the contrary." The satyr shrugs. "Their loss. Of course, one of you is a tanuki, the other an elf, so I suppose you'd be more inclined to recognize the supernatural..."

Fenris nods and takes a little more time with this glass. "I've met more than a few gods," the tanuki says, "I've made the supernatural sort of my area of study." He licks his lips and slurps down the rest of his drink before holding out the cup for more. "Dionysus seems like one I should put on my 'to meet' list!"

Richard swigs a couple mouthfuls of beer, then sets his glass down. "Elfhood's got nothin' to do with it. We don't understand how the nanites do what they do, we don't understand how the gods do what they do, we just see it happen and go with it. I'm just glad that this cosmic horror show is more of a cosmic horny show."

Bleu's gaze sweeps over Richard. "I dunno. Elfhood's certainly made you very pretty, at least." Seems he can't go even a few minutes without shamelessly flirting with Richard. He takes a sip of wine from his own jug, and chuckles, before happily refilling the tanuki's glass. "You should definitely meet him. He blessed me with this wonderfully horny form over a year ago, and my life's been more fun ever since..."

"Ha! Cosmic Horny show!" Fenris guffaws, gulping down yet another glass of satyr wine, "You know, a lot of the supernaturals I have met are pretty confused by how everything they do here tips toward sex!" He holds out his cup for a refill, eyes twinkling with mirth, interest, and more than a little booze. "So he accepted you in person?" he asks, "Dionysus, I mean?"

Richard waves a hand at the compliment. "Nah... everyone's good looking now. Gotta get really unlucky with your infections not to be. Like uhhh..." he drums his fingers against the marble countertop as he thinks. "Dwarves! Yeah, there are some dwarves just south of where I picked this infection up who have horrible skin conditions. Every single one of them. And blade beasts. Don't get me started, man. I've been around."

Bleu fixes his gaze on the elf again. "I *bet* you have," he replies. "Speaking of skin, yours looks *flawless*." His ears perk. He's being especially shameless tonight. "Oh, Fen, to answer your question... Yes. He did. It was truly memorable. Happened in a remote forest clearing. I had the most intense experience of love making. May have been just a vision, though..."

Fenris laughs and beats out a short drum rhythm on his belly. "Lord Tanuki accepted my dedication personally," he says, "And he got me looking my best!" The burly tanuki looks quite proud of his
fluffy tail and soft, sturdy form.

He slurps down another glass of wine. He gives a long, loud belch and laughs again. "I'm not super interested in sex," he admits, then gives his relatively large Tanuki endowment a slap, "But Lord Tanuki did give me some bells worth ringing."

Richard breaks eye contact with Bleu at the compliment. "Just nanomachines. Plenty of beautiful forms out there." Incidentally, his gaze lands on Fenris's... pride, as he gives it a thorough jiggling. Oh dear. He sits up in his chair and returns his eyes to Bleu's. "Any mutations that you guys admire? Don't say your literally god-given ones, either. I mean, ones you can really appreciate even if they're not you." He drinks a little more as he waits for an answer.

Bleu gives the tanuki's package an appraising glance. "Not into sex? That is a shame..." He smirks over at Richard. "Ah. A good question, my man. I've always been rather partial to rabbits, goats, otters, and horses. But the one I adore the most is the red kangaroo. Shall I demonstrate it for you?"

Fenris tilts his head, pondering the question. "What do you mean?" he asks, scratching his fluffy chest through his open shirt. "Like, on me? Or to look at? I like a good tail, I guess? Beings with
a little hair on their chests and a good chest for putting hair on." He shrugs. "We tanuki are shapeshifters, you know," he says, "More than just making our bells bigger. I've tried a whole lot of different shapes."

Richard asks, "Are you both shifters? Is that a nanite thing or a magic thing?" And, to Fenris specifically, "What do you mean by a 'good tail?' Like, floofy, or long, or doesn't get in the way of anything?" He swirls his beer around idly. "I prefer the latter, myself. Humans and similar, though yeah, there are a bunch of good horse and fox morphs running around. I'm kind of old fashioned that way." He also nods a quick assent to Bleu's question.

Bleu chuckles a little. "In my case it's nanite based. I'm a nanite adept, which means I can cause the nanites in my body to change into forms that I've mastered beforehand. Like this..." And with that, the satyr suddenly grows a lot furrier, becoming the aforementioned red kangaroo. "As an aside, my dear Richard... I gotta thing for humans and human-like forms... Such as yourself..." The kangaroo grins.

Fenris nods at Richard. "Big and fluffy!" he says happily, "Or thick and heavy! Or even with a big, fluffy tuft at the end. Tails are very attractive."

He shrugs at the second question. "Tanuki magic lets me always shift back to being either human or tanuki," he explains, "and I can turn into inanimate objects. Anything else uses the nanites, which is sort of our world's magic right now." He waves a hand at Bleu and grins, "Like, I could be a satyr too if I wanted."

Richard watches the fur fill in on Bleu's body and a third leg of a tail stretch out behind him. "Adept? Well, that makes two of us. Kind of why I broached the topic to begin with." He sets his beer down as Fenris explains that he's capable of being inanimate objects. "What, so I could be sitting on a tanuki right now and not know it?"

Bleu grins widely, taking another long sip from his jug of wine. "Nah, I check my place for stray tanuki. Not run across any yet..." He chuckles, then leans in, and give both Richard and Fenris a playful kiss, though there is a little more passion behind the one for the elf.

Fenris laughs warmly, first at the question, then at the kiss. "Stop!" he chuckles, "You'll make me blush!"

The tanuki gives Richard a wink, then turns a rather acrobatic cartwheel up onto the minibar. He stands on his hands and turns in a circle as his form slumps down like clay on a potter's wheel. It spins a little more, then resolves into a beautiful Greek Aphora, complete with etchings of rather lewdly carved satyrs chasing after tubby tanuki.

Richard flinches at the cold 'roo nose and warm lips on his cheek, recoiling at the sheer forwardness of it. His eyes go wide, and he barely has the presence of mind to watch the tanuki's demonstration. He chugs the rest of his beer before slamming the empty glass on the counter. "Two whiskey shots. Now," he orders. His brow is furrowed, but his lips are just barely turned up at the corners.

Bleu watches Fenris' display with keen interest. "Yeah, I can't do anything like that..." Richard's demand for two whiskey shots does not go unanswered, however, and the satyr opens a bottle, and fills up the elf's glass. "Ah, yes... Two whiskey shots..." He tries to read that expression, but doesn't know entirely what to make of it.

The ornate vase just sits there on the counter, for all the world like a perfectly ordinary bit of clay and paint. If someone were to put an ear to the mouth of the vase, they would hear gentle, wine scented snoring. Guess the tanuki has had his fill and is down for the count.

Next part: [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd - RPLOG]]

==OOC highlights==

*[[Fenris]] was having trouble with his client's encoding all afternoon. He fixed it halfway through the RP. This log has been edited to remove those errors, but here's a prime example of what was happening to him.

<code style="background:silver">?You had me at Dionysus,? he says, bellying up to the minibar, ?Hit me!?

<OOC> Fenris says, "This punctuation problem is vexing."

<OOC> Bleu says, "Can't help but read it as Fenris saying Hit Me?! in a very confused way, lol."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I know, right?"</code>

<code style="background:silver">Fluffess has arrived.

<Lick> Fluffess runs their tongue all over Bleu's face

Fluffess has left.

<OOC> Bleu is drive-by licked, apparently.

<OOC> Richard says, "Break yo self, fool."</code>

<code style="background:silver"><OOC> Fenris says, "Time for me to call it a night, gents."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Thanks for the RP."

<OOC> Bleu says, "See ya."

<OOC> Richard says, "Good night! That shift must've taken it out of you."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Concentrated the alcohol, I guess."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I just have to be elsewhere. Later!"

<OOC> Richard says, "Hope we didn't scare you off. I know you said you weren't interested in lewd."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Nah, you are fine. I just have to go. Have fun!"</code>

Peach Parlay Afterparty - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:21:09Z

Slippery Richard: /* Log */

=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Fenris]] (male)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

And an OOC cameo appearance by [[Fluffess]]
=Date=
11/3/2019

*Took place immediately after [[Perfect Peach Parlay - RPLOG]]. Hosted by [[Bleu]].

=Log=
Bleu saunters right on into his apartment, looking quite satisfied with himself. Made a good tried, snogged his mate, and managed to get two cute guys to follow him home, too! "Welcome to Casa de la Bleu. Make yourselves at home... Can I get either of you anything? A drink? Snack?" He slips off his windbreaker, leaving himself entirely au naturale. "Isn't the view up here amazing?"

Fenris looks dumbfounded around the glorious penthouse apartment. "How does a satyr afford a place like this?" he asks, jaw almost on the floor, "just keeping the floors stable must cost a fortune
this high up!" He ogles the marble counters, then the furniture, then the jaccuzzi. Finally, he can keep his jaw hanging no longer and it snaps shut like a rolling curtain. "Definitely gonna want that drink," he says.

Richard asks, "What've you got available?" Taking in his surroundings, he can't help but crack wise. "Caviar and pre P-Day vintage alcohol? I'm with Fen on this. What's your secret?"

Bleu laughs. "No caviar, I'm afraid. Can't stand it. As for how I can afford it... I wasn't bluffing earlier when I said I spent 10k freecred on that player. I'm loaded. I've... Got a keen eye for business, I guess you could say." He approaches the minibar, and checks over the bottles. "Got some beer in the fridge. Wines, whiskey. One bottle of vodka I keep for my friends. Don't really care for the stuff." He pops open a bottle of wine. "The wine, incidentally, is almost all from... Well... I'm not sure I can explain. I'm an initiate of Dionysus, see?"

Fenris is a tanuki, the original booze hound. Any concerns he has are immediately silenced at the mention of giggle water. "You had me at Dionysus," he says, bellying up to the minibar, "Hit me!"

Richard finds that explanation a little lacking in the details department, but heck, he's a guest. No need to press the issue. He settles onto a barstool and says "One beer, please. Whatever's good." As for the other brief explanation, he just nods along. "Lotta gods coming out of the woodwork," he states, unslinging his long-guns and resting them under the seats of the mini-bar. "Makes sense that the god of having a good time would be interested in mortals' day-to-day affairs now..."

Bleu grins, and decides to demonstrate precisely what he means by 'unexplainable', as his two guests would find him suddenly holding a Roman decanter, from which he pours Fenris a glass of wine. Reaching under the bar, he also produces said beer. "I have no idea how it is that I can make wine appear out of thin air," he remarks.

Fenris is happy to partake of a little magical wine, gulping it happily from his glass and smacking his lips. The burly tanuki licks his whiskers and grins. "It's a good trick!" he says, holding out
his cup for a refill, "I like a practical god."

In the span of a single blink, Richard finds his host has acquired a container of wine that he certainly did not have before. Richard blinks a few more times before straightening up and saying, "Practical is right. The god of parties gave you a fantastic party trick. I think that's all we need to know about it."

Bleu laughs heartily, as he refills Fenris' glass. "Ha, well, Dionysus would be pleased to hear you both say that. A shocking amount of folks in Fairhaven still don't actually believe he exists, despite the ample evidence to the contrary." The satyr shrugs. "Their loss. Of course, one of you is a tanuki, the other an elf, so I suppose you'd be more inclined to recognize the supernatural..."

Fenris nods and takes a little more time with this glass. "I've met more than a few gods," the tanuki says, "I've made the supernatural sort of my area of study." He licks his lips and slurps down the rest of his drink before holding out the cup for more. "Dionysus seems like one I should put on my 'to meet' list!"

Richard swigs a couple mouthfuls of beer, then sets his glass down. "Elfhood's got nothin' to do with it. We don't understand how the nanites do what they do, we don't understand how the gods do what they do, we just see it happen and go with it. I'm just glad that this cosmic horror show is more of a cosmic horny show."

Bleu's gaze sweeps over Richard. "I dunno. Elfhood's certainly made you very pretty, at least." Seems he can't go even a few minutes without shamelessly flirting with Richard. He takes a sip of wine from his own jug, and chuckles, before happily refilling the tanuki's glass. "You should definitely meet him. He blessed me with this wonderfully horny form over a year ago, and my life's been more fun ever since..."

"Ha! Cosmic Horny show!" Fenris guffaws, gulping down yet another glass of satyr wine, "You know, a lot of the supernaturals I have met are pretty confused by how everything they do here tips toward sex!" He holds out his cup for a refill, eyes twinkling with mirth, interest, and more than a little booze. "So he accepted you in person?" he asks, "Dionysus, I mean?"

Richard waves a hand at the compliment. "Nah... everyone's good looking now. Gotta get really unlucky with your infections not to be. Like uhhh..." he drums his fingers against the marble countertop as he thinks. "Dwarves! Yeah, there are some dwarves just south of where I picked this infection up who have horrible skin conditions. Every single one of them. And blade beasts. Don't get me started, man. I've been around."

Bleu fixes his gaze on the elf again. "I *bet* you have," he replies. "Speaking of skin, yours looks *flawless*." His ears perk. He's being especially shameless tonight. "Oh, Fen, to answer your question... Yes. He did. It was truly memorable. Happened in a remote forest clearing. I had the most intense experience of love making. May have been just a vision, though..."

Fenris laughs and beats out a short drum rhythm on his belly. "Lord Tanuki accepted my dedication personally," he says, "And he got me looking my best!" The burly tanuki looks quite proud of his
fluffy tail and soft, sturdy form.

He slurps down another glass of wine. He gives a long, loud belch and laughs again. "I'm not super interested in sex," he admits, then gives his relatively large Tanuki endowment a slap, "But Lord Tanuki did give me some bells worth ringing."

Richard breaks eye contact with Bleu at the compliment. "Just nanomachines. Plenty of beautiful forms out there." Incidentally, his gaze lands on Fenris's... pride, as he gives it a thorough jiggling. Oh dear. He sits up in his chair and returns his eyes to Bleu's. "Any mutations that you guys admire? Don't say your literally god-given ones, either. I mean, ones you can really appreciate even if they're not you." He drinks a little more as he waits for an answer.

Bleu gives the tanuki's package an appraising glance. "Not into sex? That is a shame..." He smirks over at Richard. "Ah. A good question, my man. I've always been rather partial to rabbits, goats, otters, and horses. But the one I adore the most is the red kangaroo. Shall I demonstrate it for you?"

Fenris tilts his head, pondering the question. "What do you mean?" he asks, scratching his fluffy chest through his open shirt. "Like, on me? Or to look at? I like a good tail, I guess? Beings with
a little hair on their chests and a good chest for putting hair on." He shrugs. "We tanuki are shapeshifters, you know," he says, "More than just making our bells bigger. I've tried a whole lot of different shapes."

Richard asks, "Are you both shifters? Is that a nanite thing or a magic thing?" And, to Fenris specifically, "What do you mean by a 'good tail?' Like, floofy, or long, or doesn't get in the way of anything?" He swirls his beer around idly. "I prefer the latter, myself. Humans and similar, though yeah, there are a bunch of good horse and fox morphs running around. I'm kind of old fashioned that way." He also nods a quick assent to Bleu's question.

Bleu chuckles a little. "In my case it's nanite based. I'm a nanite adept, which means I can cause the nanites in my body to change into forms that I've mastered beforehand. Like this..." And with that, the satyr suddenly grows a lot furrier, becoming the aforementioned red kangaroo. "As an aside, my dear Richard... I gotta thing for humans and human-like forms... Such as yourself..." The kangaroo grins.

Fenris nods at Richard. "Big and fluffy!" he says happily, "Or thick and heavy! Or even with a big, fluffy tuft at the end. Tails are very attractive."

He shrugs at the second question. "Tanuki magic lets me always shift back to being either human or tanuki," he explains, "and I can turn into inanimate objects. Anything else uses the nanites, which is sort of our world's magic right now." He waves a hand at Bleu and grins, "Like, I could be a satyr too if I wanted."

Richard watches the fur fill in on Bleu's body and a third leg of a tail stretch out behind him. "Adept? Well, that makes two of us. Kind of why I broached the topic to begin with." He sets his beer down as Fenris explains that he's capable of being inanimate objects. "What, so I could be sitting on a tanuki right now and not know it?"

Bleu grins widely, taking another long sip from his jug of wine. "Nah, I check my place for stray tanuki. Not run across any yet..." He chuckles, then leans in, and give both Richard and Fenris a playful kiss, though there is a little more passion behind the one for the elf.

Fenris laughs warmly, first at the question, then at the kiss. "Stop!" he chuckles, "You'll make me blush!"

The tanuki gives Richard a wink, then turns a rather acrobatic cartwheel up onto the minibar. He stands on his hands and turns in a circle as his form slumps down like clay on a potter's wheel. It spins a little more, then resolves into a beautiful Greek Aphora, complete with etchings of rather lewdly carved satyrs chasing after tubby tanuki.

Richard flinches at the cold 'roo nose and warm lips on his cheek, recoiling at the sheer forwardness of it. His eyes go wide, and he barely has the presence of mind to watch the tanuki's demonstration. He chugs the rest of his beer before slamming the empty glass on the counter. "Two whiskey shots. Now," he orders. His brow is furrowed, but his lips are just barely turned up at the corners.

Bleu watches Fenris' display with keen interest. "Yeah, I can't do anything like that..." Richard's demand for two whiskey shots does not go unanswered, however, and the satyr opens a bottle, and fills up the elf's glass. "Ah, yes... Two whiskey shots..." He tries to read that expression, but doesn't know entirely what to make of it.

The ornate vase just sits there on the counter, for all the world like a perfectly ordinary bit of clay and paint. If someone were to put an ear to the mouth of the vase, they would hear gentle, wine scented snoring. Guess the tanuki has had his fill and is down for the count.

Next part: [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd - RPLOG]]

==OOC highlights==

*[[Fenris]] was having trouble with his client's encoding all afternoon. He fixed it halfway through the RP. This log has been edited to remove those errors, but here's a prime example of what was happening to him.

<code style="background:silver">?You had me at Dionysus,? he says, bellying up to the minibar, ?Hit me!?

<OOC> Fenris says, "This punctuation problem is vexing."

<OOC> Bleu says, "Can't help but read it as Fenris saying Hit Me?! in a very confused way, lol."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I know, right?"</code>

<code style="background:silver">Fluffess has arrived.

<Lick> Fluffess runs their tongue all over Bleu's face

Fluffess has left.

<OOC> Bleu is drive-by licked, apparently.

<OOC> Richard says, "Break yo self, fool."</code>

<code style="background:silver"><OOC> Fenris says, "Time for me to call it a night, gents."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Thanks for the RP."

<OOC> Bleu says, "See ya."

<OOC> Richard says, "Good night! That shift must've taken it out of you."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Concentrated the alcohol, I guess."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I just have to be elsewhere. Later!"

<OOC> Richard says, "Hope we didn't scare you off. I know you said you weren't interested in lewd."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Nah, you are fine. I just have to go. Have fun!"</code>

Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:06:13Z

Slippery Richard: Created page. This is my first ever RPlog posting, so please tear it apart and put it back together if it's not formatted correctly.

=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)
=Date=
11/3/2019

*The remainder of [[Peach Parlay Afterparty - RPLOG]]. NSFW as heck.

=Log=
Richard grins deviously. "We're going to play a drinking game. I guess wrong, I drink. I guess right, you drink. No lying." He leans onto the counter. "You have a favorite gender."

Bleu smirks, but he pulls out a second glass, setting it beside Richard's. "You're right." He pours whiskey into his glass, and downs it in one gulp. "Can you guess which one, though?"

Richard narrows his eyes and says confidently, "Women. Like the satyrs of legend."

Bleu smirks, and shakes his head. "Wrong. While I do appreciate a beautiful female... Nine times out of ten it's a handsome man, such as yourself, that gets my attention the most..."

Richard's eyebrows raise, then lower again. He swipes a shot glass from the counter and downs the burning liquid in two gulps. "I might have been projecting on that one. To each their own, I guess." As he's putting down his glass, he remembers the presence of the third man in the room. "...Do you hear that? I think he fell asleep. We should find someplace to put him."

Bleu perks an ear, and he grins. "Think I'll set him on my mantel. See how long he stays there... Guess my wine was a little strong." He picks up the amphora, admiring all the sexy satyrs and cute tanuki, and carries it over to his fireplace, setting it up in a good spot. "With regards to your projecting, anyway... Don't think I haven't noticed you're male herm... Like I am. I can smell it. A lovely mix of feminine and masculine scents..."

Richard smiles and nods sagely. "Mmmhm. Plenty of options. Now, next question: you prefer humanoid forms." He would cut off any protests the Bacchanalian makes before they even begin. "I know. Fuck you, we're getting drunk."

Bleu refills his glass. "You're correct, but I ought to call that a cheat..." He grins, and downs his glass of whiskey, doesn't seeming like he really minds. "I sometimes take on some exotic shapes myself, but I do adore a handsome human..."

Richard says "Amen to that. I'm not necessarily into men, but some stand out from the crowd, and if there's one right in front of me, who am I to refuse?" He leans away from the counter. Looks like his sense of balance isn't all gone just yet. "You have a preference between being on top and being the bottom."

Bleu nods again, with another shot to follow. "Correct again. Which one do you think I prefer, though?"

Richard calmly states, "You've been eyeing me like a piece of meat all day. Top."

Bleu blushes, which is remarkable, because his fur is already red. "I, ah... Can hardly help myself. This one is a somewhat complicated answer," he continues, filling his glass. "I used to be a strict bottom, but I grew much more confident after becoming a satyr. I do prefer to top now, yes." He tosses back the shot, not seemingly affected by the alcohol even now.

Richard smirks like the smug bastard he is. "...Plenty of options..." He says to nobody inparticular. "All right. You like 'em big, but not huge. In the pants, I mean."

Bleu's filling his glass faster and faster with each question it seems. Knocking it back, he nods his head. "Yessss. Big, but not *too* big. How are you reading me so well?"

Richard puts his weight forward on the counter again. "Like a piece of meat. Figured either you're a total slut, or I was already pushing the right buttons. He grabs a glass and takes the tiniest of sips from it. "Honestly, I like to go fuckin' crazy with myself. Best night's sleep I ever had was sleeping on my own cock." He lifts the glass away from his face and points at Bleu with his forefinger, the rest of them still curled around the cup of ambrosia. "You're into major size difference, though. Like, thirty foot tall folks or ones that can sit in the palm of your hand." He raises an eyebrow, and the shot is already heading back towards his mouth...

Bleu gives that some thought. "Eh, only sometimes, on very specific occasions." He smirks. "I *can* be cajoled into it, though..." He looks away with a cough. "As for being a slut, well... What can I say? I'm a horny goat, err, kangaroo..."

Richard grunts. Half of the shot goes down the hatch. "Call that a maybe. Too bad the floor'd fall out if I really cut loose here." He curls his forefinger back around the rim of the glass, extending the rest to make a waving motion with a flick of the wrist. "Go ahead and change into whatever. Or stay as that. Your call." He clears his singed throat. "You've got a favorite body type." Another 50/50 question that skews in his favor. "Yeah, fuck you. *WE* are getting drunk."

Bleu takes that moment to settle back into his satyr shape, though he does rather enjoy being a marsupial. "Right again." He tips back his glass, and downs the whiskey. He's starting to feel the effects of the booze, which is not something that happens all that often. "I generally like a little pudge, but not too obese. Though muscles are sexy... You got a lot of muscle under that shirt, don't you? I'm gonna have to get you undressed..."

Richard downs the other half of the shot. "You didn't make me guess what." Now empty, he slaps the glass onto the countertop. He keeps the glass in his hand. Mostly. There's a bit of fumbling going on. "Hell, you tell me." he says as the clothes around him wither away into a cloud of dust. That dust embeds itself in his skin, forming green tattoos of intricate, curvy script across his slim, athletic upper body that looks like something out of a Tolkein novel. What does it say? Might be 'he cannot understand this, so I can write anything' or something. Or 'nothing is permanent.' It's anyone's guess. "This mutation's adaptable as fuck, man. Can't go full beefcake with it, but everything else is fair game. You want a muscle-beast? I got fiv- five hundred forms, 'n a few favorites that'd be just what you're looking for."

Bleu bites his lower lip as soon as the elf's clothing turns into dust, and the dust becomes histattoos. The satyr steps forward, looking up and down that attractive, athletic form. "Yes... Let me tell you..." He smiles. "You're gorgeous... *Just* like this. Five hundred forms puts me to shame, though..." He closes the gap between himself and Richard. "It's all I can do to keep my hands off of you..."

Richard slurs "Issat so?" He stands from the barstool on (somewhat) stable legs "Bet you say that toanyone who comes into your house and drinks with ya." The tips of his ears are starting to get red. "Pour me another. I just guessed somethin', and one of us is gonna have to down it." The only thing keeping him a bit modest are some Promethean armor plates he had strapped over the mutation's clothes. "Pour it..."

Bleu smirks at his new friend's inebriation. True to form, while he is feeling buzzed, the satyr is holding his liquor far better. "You sure you want more, Sexy?" Regardless, he fills the glass, his gaze fixed on the elf. "Shall I help you hobble over into my bed?"

Richard snatches the glass with sluggish hands. "Not even BOTHERING to answer that one!" He bellows, seemingly ignorant of the attempt to cut him off. "Y'know what? You pour another, we drink at the same time for that. Then we find this bed you're talking about." His free hand points in the vague direction of the satyr. "Drunk you. We're getting... gonna fuck."

Bleu grins. They've completely emptied the bottle, so he cracks open a second, pouring out another round of shots. "You're reserved when sober, but I think you make a funny drunk. C'mon, we shall drink to your health!" He tosses back, then offers an arm for Richard to lean on.

Richard Raises his glass for a clumsy toast. "Cheers. To new friends, t' stuff we did with Magnus at the train, an' to fuuuuck I *am* drunk." He accepts the helping hand without a second thought (or much of a first one, really) and after the toast, he would raise his glass to the ceiling, coming dangerously close to spilling it. "You're all right by me, wine god. I love you, man." Finally, he slams back the glass and lets it fall to the carpet from his limp fingers. "Now come on, I ai'n gon' wait fer him to get here 'n have a threesome."

Bleu's arm settles right around the elf's shoulders, the dropped glass being naught but anafterthought. Clean up comes later. "Mmm, you're cute when you're drunk. I thought you were cute earlier, too. Come along, cutie-pie..." Off into the bedroom, over to the bed. The satyr helps the elf to lie down, before he tips over onto the floor, or someplace else. "Mmm, like my bedroom?"

Richard goes all but limp, face up on the mattress. Stumbling is a tiring way to get around. The remainder of his armor has fallen off on the unbalanced walk to this warm and soft nice place that is good, leaving him totally exposed. His uncircumcised dick is currently set to 'whiskey.' It drapes over a pair of fist-sized balls and almost touches the mattress below. He lazily reaches down to his sack and paws it upwards, revealing a perfect, hairless set of lips and big ol' clitty that brushes up against the back of his scrote. "'Sgood. Ohhhhh fuck I am drunk. Fuck me till I pass out. Then... then wake me up and fuck me again."

Bleu giggles like a schoolboy at Richard's state. "I say, you're either going to be massively embarrassed tomorrow, or very pleased with yourself." He smirks, settling onto the bed alongside the drunken elf, his gaze fixed on those perfectly formed lips that he knew were there all along. The sight causes his vaguely equinoid-shaped cock to twitch, and slip free of his sheath. "When somebody makes such a desperate plea, I cannot refuse, of course. Let me just... Get into place..." he murmurs, before showering kisses to Richard's bare chest, and climbs up over his prone form.

Richard moans at the attention. He is warm. He is comfortable. He is wanted. He is going numb and it makes those little points of pleasure and pressure from the satyr's lips all the more pleasant. He needs to focus to really make out what's going on aside from 'feels nice.' For the moment, he still can.

Bleu is only too happy to provide his partner with all the pleasure he can, and those kisses steadily work their way up over his chest and collar bone, to the elf's neck, as the satyr maneuvers into position over the other male. It only takes a few moments, really, but perhaps it feels longer, before the satyr's flared tip can be felt gently spearing Richard's folds, as Bleu takes his time with ensuring this first penetration is as pleasurable as possible. "Mmm, you're so warm," he whispers, between kisses. "I know you're super drunk... Probably can't come up with too much of a coherent response..."

Truth be told, this mythical makeout session did get a bit of a response. Not a conscious one, butit's something. Richard's cock twinges at the instinctive realization that hey, there's another person here! And that person's gonna have sex with you! Up and at 'em, champ! Groggy as a hungover elf is going to be, Richard's manlier half chubs up enough to drag across the inside of his thigh under its own power. Meanwhile, the hand holding those nuts out of the way wanders a little further down, poking at his pleasure buzzer. He feebly pushes his hips in to the pressure that's trying to spread his sex.

Bleu can see his guest growing aroused, and he grins. "Mmm, don't mind if I do," he murmurs, curling the fingers of his left hand around Richard's growing erection. At the same time, he takes advantage of the elf's feeble push to help press his own shaft into those waiting depths. His kisses grow more passionate, as they crest over Richard's jaw, and over his lips.

Now it's right up in his face. He may be drunk off his ass, but he recognizes this person. With his finite amount of dexterity, Richard ceases his vaginal ministrations to paw at Bleu's back with his other hand. He ends up dropping his forearm somewhere onto the satyr's ribs, then running his hand (well... his wrist, with his hand bent at an odd angle) up his fellow half-man's spine. This clumsy caress ends with a limp grip on one of the satyr's horns. His tongue feels like a floppy lead weight. Not much he can do to kiss back, but a gold star for effort. Speaking of 'horns,' that flared rod of Bleu's is getting intimately acquainted with bits that Richard wasn't born with. They're soft. VERY soft. Like a fleshlight made of memory foam and filled with... it's moving in there. Sweet Aphrodite,it's actually massaging the intruding cock and trying to pull it in further! It's safe to say that those are bits that NOBODY was born with just twelve years ago. Even the dick in Bleu's hand is heavenly soft, despite the fact that it's stiffening to the point where the foreskin is pulling back.

Bleu tilts his head slightly, his tongue prodding at Richard's, the kiss growing sloppier by the moment. The satyr doesn't appear to mind, however. In the meantime, his veiny shaft is plumbing those velvety soft depths, helped along by the other male-herm's pulling sensation. At this rate Bleu will be balls deep in no time. He doesn't want the elf to miss out, either, his hand slowly caressing that sinfully soft member.

The silky-smooth shaft responds well to the continued ministrations, stiffening further and growing ever so slightly firmer. If the insides were memory foam, the external component to Richard's sex is closer to a heavy dough. Soft. Springy. Heavy. The satyr's fingers leave momentary indents where they pass, fading out of existence with each throb of the still-growing meat. It's all the way up to either of their sternums and sagging rigidly under its own weight each time Bleu reaches the nadir of his strokes. Also nearly to Richard's sternum is the animalistic cock of this party animal. Any second now, those instinctual contractions, that steady pushing, and the weak rocking of his hips are going to bring them closer together than ever before. Richard tries to say something soft and sweet, but there's another guy's mouth in his way. Not that it matters. It'd sound the same even without any hindrance.

Bleu's ears perk when he thinks he hears the elf try to say something, but he's too busy still kissing said elf to pay much heed. Instead, his attention is still fixed on both that fascinatingly pliant dick he's slowly jerking off, and the soft, hot cunny he's pressing his more equine-like dick into. He's soon bottomed out, too. That soft warmth is very nice, like a warm blanket caressing his cock. He could get used to it. But he can't just hold still like that forever. All his basest satyr instincts are screaming at him to rut this lover like mad. And he can't resist instinct...

Richard's pair of grapefruit-sized balls rest against Bleu's belly. Soft, soft, soft. It seems as if the nanites concentrated all of the tenderness in one place when crafting this mutation's marathoner's physique. Within that velvety sack, two balls that feel more like lumps of clay weigh heavily between the two impossibly-gendered 'men.' Richard drapes his previously unoccupied hand across Bleu's back, smearing just a drop of female fluids over the goat-man's skin while barely maintaining a grip on that horn with the other. They could stay like this. It's nice. It's warm and relaxing. It leaves something to be desired. Richard may not even realize that his cunt's moving of its own volition, pulling Bleu's baton within a hair's breadth of his cervix. It's not close enough. The elf's hips fidget in an attempt to close the gap. Whether or not he meant to, he moves in just such a way that his partner's shaft pushes on the undulating muscles inside his sopping wet tunnel of love, and those in turn put pressure on Richard's prostate. The elven man makes yet another noise at the sensation no non-mutant could feel, though this one was never meant to carry any verbal meaning. His prick is at full mast and full hardness, just under a foot long. It pulses outward against Bleu's fingers with a surprising amount of firmness. A bead of clear, thick liquid builds at his tip...

The satyr still hasn't moved yet. The animalistic voice at the back of his brain keeps telling him to rut Richard with everything he's got, but the simple pleasure of being hilted within his lover's warm, vibrating cunt is quite simply wonderful. He becomes dimly aware that Richard's cunt is still drawing him in, however. More pleasant sensations to compliment everything else that's rocking his body right now. The satyr doesn't even really need to rut the elf. His arousal, and the climax that will surely follow, is building quite nicely on its own, so perhaps it's more enjoyable to let the elf's body do all the milking, after all. Beyond that, Bleu's right hand slowly caresses Richard's side, whilst his left remains fixed on the pulsing prick in his grip. The satyr reluctantly breaks the kiss, and he casts his glance down, as if hungering to give the tip a lick. "Well... Mmm... Bet that's tasty. Wonder if I can reach it with my tongue..."

'More.' That's probably the most cogent thought Richard can muster. His hips are moving in lazy, frantic circles as he tries to find that feel-good spot again. His cunt keeps pulling inward in waves to make sure the possible source of even more pleasure can't - and wouldn't want to - leave. "More," he mumbles aloud. Body nanites shrug to themselves and take the confused signals coming from his mind as a command. The sleek sylvan shlong pulses with his alcohol-addled heartbeat. On every beat, it pulses. On every pulse, Bleu finds his fingers able to encompass less and less of the rod. It's not getting harder. It's getting wider. Pulse. Thumb to pinky finger might get around it. Pulse. Make that the ring finger. Pulse. Okay, *maybe* the middle finger if he squeezes. Pulse. Scratch that. It's as thick as a soup can and the impatient, glossy red bell on the tip is up past Bleu's floating ribs. Wait... wasn't it- Pulse. It's up to the ribs proper. Throb. Inching towards the collarbone. Throb. It's resting just under Bleu's chin. He becomes aware that the weight against his abs is also heavier and buliker, each nut well up to the size of a coconut. All in all, everything seems to have grown half again in size. As outside, so inside. Richard's precum factory swells to keep pace with the rest of the production line. His tongue dangles over the corner of his lips as he discovers that his slowly shuffling hips don't need to aim for a particular target anymore. The G-spot is real, and in his case, it exists in duplicate. The surface tension on the natural lube at his dick-tip breaks as more fluid leaks out. A drop of it runs under the curve of his glans, arcing along the spongy surface before it can run down the shaft only half a fingertip's breadth away from the crown's edge.

Bleu perks his ears again when his partner speaks the first coherent word in quite awhile. "More?" he asks, but just as quickly his question is answered. The satyr watches in rapt fascination as Richard's length begins to grow, longer, wider. His fingers no longer wrap as easily around that girth. On the other hand, the leaking tip is now within reach of the satyr's lips, and he'd be remiss to not treat his guest to a complimentary blowjob. And so, instead of kissing Richard's lips again, he dips his head down and begins to lap at the precum glistening on the crown of his lover's dick. Seems Bleu can have his cake and eat it too. In the midst of it all, Bleu is starting to slowly roll his hips along with Richard's movements, letting his cock rub along every single sensitive inch inside the other herm's pussy.

That broad-headed spear in Richard's folds is moving. At first, it only has one direction to go: out. His dumb expression mixes with a wince at the retreat of such a beloved new companion. All the muscles in contact with the rock-hard ram can do are slide past it as Richard's own lubrication works against him. A wave of relief and renewed pleasure wash over his entire body as that full feeling returns. His breath hitches as Bleu hilts again, welcomed back with a jolt of reflexive contractions. Upstairs, Richard's blurry, bleary eyes recognize that something's going on in another department. That shape is a good person, right? Must be. Couldn't be anything else. Feels so good... In a moment of shock, it feels *too* good. The other sensitive sexual slit at the very tip of his cock registers a warm, wet stroking. He squirms. His monstrous, malleable manhood twitches. Drunken digits claw at the covers, too weak to find any purchase. His executive office, already running on a skeleton crew, finds itself taking a break as a deluge of important documents arrive. All of them are good news with a minimum of paperwork, thankfully. Sign here for ecstasy. The motions of the man inside his womanhood massage an anatomical paradox of vaginal wall and prostate. What was once an intermittent drip of pre develops into a soft flow, draining upwards past hands that hold him close and a hard, solid chest.

Bleu is quite content to make this as slow and thorough a fucking as possible. The man he's breeding may be inebriated, but he'll be damned if this tryst won't be something the elf will remember for days afterward. That warm stroking at the tip of Richard's cock continues, intensifies. The goatman's tongue delves into the slit, and his hand slowly slides down along the side of that impressively-sized maleness. Within moments, Bleu is cupping Richard's wonderfully heavy balls, feeling their new heft, giving a teasing squeeze in order to egg him on to orgasmic bliss. The satyr's rocking motions remain fairly slow, though the output of his own precum is very heavy, lubricating that already soft and slickened passage he's fucking.

Wet and willing, if not very able, Richard's arms drag across the sheets with no destination. Irregular breaths and gasps emanate from the elf as the satyr drives him wild. Richard manages to get his jaw closed. Half of his lower lip is between his teeth. One eye is wide open, the other droops nearly closed. His toes curl, then his knees, brushing the back of his calves against the furry legs of his lovemaker. Combined fluids comingle between his thighs, forming a delta for the tributary of precum that makes its way down from the oasis at the tip. Saliva and salt slicken the whole end of his cock into a glossy beacon of bliss. A new pressure on his nutsack beckons one of his hands over to investigate. Like a dry octopus, the hand glides across the covers and up the side of his hip. When it finally gets there, it finds some weird bony thing with five little bony things sticking off of it. Whatever it's doing there, it feels pretty okay. He droops his hand over it to keep it there.

Bleu's head dips down lower... and lower, slowly engulfing more of Richard's cock within his maw. He's sucking hungrily, savoring the taste of the elf's pre, but eager for more. As Richard's hand covers his own, he gives yet another squeeze to that heavy sac, and he murmurs around the cock in his maw. Their combined lovemaking is messy indeed, combined fluids spilled out between them. The satyr's baser instincts are finally starting to win out, however, as his slow, steady rutting into Richard's hot pussy has worked him up to a climax, his heavy, fuzzy balls tensing up in preparation for letting loose a torrent of satyr cum within the elf's depths.

That soft wetness at his tip, those slicked sandpapery digits running up and down his cock, that cleaving presence inside of him and its gush of pleasure... it's more than a sober mind could bear, let alone for someone who's traded IQ for BAC. His breathing accelerates as he approaches his own climaxes. A rush of warmth fills Richard's spasming passage. The suffusing heat worms its way into every crevice. Like moonshine, but without the buzz. Buzz... oh right. What's left of his functioning grey matter recalls that there's a doorbell which could use a ringing. So far, it's gotten only teasing caresses from what feels like a cotton ball. He clutches the hand squeezing his cushy sack. With that hand occupied by reflexes, his other draws near to it, and then bypasses it and all obstructions with desperate dexterity. It's on a mindless masturbatory mission for more pleasure. Around the side of his scrote and to the nub at the center of it all. His fingers wipe through the slimy mess that's accumulating between his legs and fumble for their target. He finds it. No, wait, that's not it. he's numb, but not *that* numb. Especially not there. He's barely got any hair down there, either. Maybe if he pokes at it more things will start to make sense. He tenses his legs in a futile attempt to sit up, hoping to find more leverage. Instead, he finds a wide, wet, welcoming hole and a clitoris (somehow) at the bottom of it. This is making the opposite of more sense. He knows for a fact that his cunt is full (so full!) and the bean is supposed to be at the front, not the back. Did he somehow reach under himself? No, that wouldn't... y'know what? Thinking can wait until later. Keep prodding to figure out what this vag is doing here. Things will start to make the opposite of the opposite of more sense soon enough.

Bleu had been hanging there on the edge of a precipice. A yawning chasm that once plunged into would mark the release of everything the satyr is holding back. All he needs is a nudge. A push, to send him over. And when he's caught there, filling his lover whilst simultaneously sucking the elf's dick, that sudden, unexpected fingering of his own slick pussy and sensitive clit makes his eyes roll back,and he emits a muffled, bleating moan around the dick in his mouth. His whole body shudders with intense pleasure, and before he can even form another coherent thought his testes let loose, flooding Richard with his first heavy helping of satyr cum...

More of that warm sensation! As a bonus, something's making the bell end of his dick resonate, stirring every nerve in its bulbous tip. It doesn't make sense, and Richard doesn't care anymore. Do thing = feel nice inside. Do thing more = more nice feeling? Let's find out. This scientific process from a sloshed man with stars floating through his vision plays out as him crunching his legs in against those fuzzy pillars until they buckle. The unforseen outcome of this is a sudden impact against his chest, followed by a comforting weight that sandwiches the stupidly huge 18-incher against him. His hips rock in earnest, pushing the soft snake up and down against this unexpected presence that's spreading that warm feeling to his outside even as his insides keep getting stuffed with that cinnamon whiskey bottle burn. His precum is oozing steadily now. He dimly recognizes that his tatooed chest isn't pooling with the stuff. Doesn't matter. Hand's still down at a button that's communicating to him loud and clear 'Push Me' and an uncharted chasm. His twitching fingers move aimlessly about both. Not much more he can take...

Bleu finds himself suddenly yanked harder against the elf under him, which causes his still-cumming cock to get driven even further into the man he's breeding. He's still sucking off from the elf's cock, moaning fitfully around that girth while Richard continues to manipulate the satyr's clit, causing more explosions of pleasure in the back of his brain.

Richard keeps thrusting against the unknown surface and into the slick, tickling mouth of... yes. Yes, there is another person here. They're so close that even with his double vision he can focus on them. Beyond a foot or so, it's nothing but a blur. The fact that this person's head is just beneath his chin and he can still feel them lapping at the crown of his cock are absolutely lost on him. The the tingling heat of Bleu's seed inside him blossoms into a firestorm that consumes his entire body as the satyr's fitful thrust drives his hips against Richard's clit. Richard would be happy that his unintentionally roundabout approach worked if he had any idea what was going on. Instead, the most he can express is a loud, trailing moan as his female sex contracts harder and faster than before, frantically stroking the Dionysian dedicant's dick for every drop of cum it can get. His body goes stiff. Those curious fingers investigating the other cunt curl and quiver. Back up above, Bleu's skilled mouth and orgasmic moanings finally cause Richard's female orgasm to cascade into a simultaneous male one. The dam breaks when the goatman's tongue runs around the edge of Richard's crown and then ravenously back to the slit for another helping of pre. Richard's moan rises in volume once more, then is cut off by a rhythmic gasp-then-hiss which repeats in time with each spurt. The first shot to rush from his oversized nuts could fill half of a champagne glass in a single spurt. It's only the first of several.

There it is. The satyr tastes his partner's seed, and immediately swallows, groaning with pleasure as he does so. His own flow, on the other hand, is beginning to taper off right about, though his feminine orgasm is still cresting, a flush of fluids washing over the elf's still-questing fingers. The goat bleats, and sighs, his right arm gripping around Richard's waist even tighter, whilst his
left hand remains in place, squeezing and groping the heavy nutsack to coax out every...last...drop.

That groping encourages his partner's prodigious jizzmakers to keep going without the go-ahead from the upper head. It would have been on hold forever if it had waited for that. They gush continuously into the goatman's gullet. Each shot is a mouthful at minimum. The second spurt outstripped the first one in quantity by a narrow margin. The third is only moderately smaller than that, and with each pulse it decreases in amount by few thick and salty spoonfuls. Back at other end, Richard's motions are no longer under his control. Erratic jerking motions are limited only by his forearm, stuck between the two male-herms' hips, and the outer edges of Bleu's lower lips. Meanwhile, the other hand is grasping at Bleu's ball fondler. They grab the first solid thing they find - his wrist - and push that hand further into the mushy beanbags of baby-batter.

By now Bleu's cumming has dropped to a minimum. Only a couple spurts, here and there. He doesn't bother to even attempt to extract himself, however. He's too busy enjoying that afterglow, and continued gulps of semen from the other's cock, until even that begins to subside. They'd reached the top of the mountain, but now was the time to start coming down again, it seems. Slowly...so slowly, the satyr begins to draw his mouth away from his friend's cock, his tongue dragging up along the underside until his lips finally pull free, and he sighs. "Mmm... Gods... You're so tasty..."

Richard breathes ragged breaths, inhaling sharply when Bleu's last, lingering post-orgasmic lick hits him. Hot breath rolls across the cockhead before it can start to go limp. He shudders, a comparatively tiny gob of cum that'd been caugh halfway up his shaft working its way out. Someone's talking about tasty stuff, and frankly, he could go for a drink and a snack after all that sperm he shot. Closest thing to both of those is to recycle, and wouldn't you know it: there's a dollop of cream right there. It's even got a ringing endorsement from... he stops staring through the ceiling to check who. Goat...drinks...person. You know, that guy. With the drinks. If he says it's good, it must be. He releases his most available hand - the one on Bleu's wrist - and scoops a fingerful of it up. It's deposited in his mouth after only a couple of tries. Salty. Creamy. Pretty good, but there's not enough. No, wait, there's some over there. He goes to lick it up, not really caring that it's on the other guy's cheek. "Shumting ahn yer faesss..."

Bleu finally releases his grip on Richard's sac, slipping his left arm around the elf. He squeezes, still not withdrawing his shaft from the other's folds. The warmth around his cock is comforting, enjoyable. He sighs, and grins, giggling when Richard licks his face. "You're drunk off your ass, man. I don't know if you even know what I'm saying..." He slowly rubs Richard's back, content to hold him close.

"Fffffuck you. M'not drungh..." Richard...attempts to say. It's all a mumbled mess. "WeE're drumk. *On* myasssb." He groans contentedly as the other alleged lush pulls him close, running calloused hands across the landscape of lean muscle. He tosses his own arm over Bleu's body to reciprocate the gesture. Through the passage of time, the rush of sex, and the lack of distraction, he's regained some of his senses. Not firing on all cylinders, mind you, but it's a start. One of the first things he remembers is his manners. "Was graeph," he continues to try to speak, nuzzling into the space above Bleu's shoulder, "ffhanks." His speech is hampered mostly by the booze, but party by the sticky stuff still on his tongue. He could use another drink. What's on tap again? Oh yeah, there was one that was mentioned in particular. It's rude to drink alone when there's company, though. Especially if it's their cabinet you're drinking from. "Mm'therstee... mebbe we ken sherr some vvobker..." He trails off. Any tension in those muscles disappears in seconds. His hot, liquor-laced breath by Bleu's ear at regular intervals. Every now and then it hitches into a quiet snort before resuming.

Bleu's pretty goat ears prick upward at Richard's words, and he chuckles. "Me, drunk? Pish-posh. Imma satyr, my dear. Satyrs don't get drunk... At least not easily." He gives the elf a playful kiss to the nose. "Mmm, vodka, though? I feel like I should limit you to just one glass... Mmm, c'mon, let's get you up. I can't make the bottle levitate over here, after all." He starts to slowly try and shift the other man, tugging him close, and then lifting him off the mattress. "We'll move to my couch, get a fire going, and share that glass of vodka you want..."

He would find the elf completely unresponsive. Looks like the post-coitus crash has caught up to him. He could swear he saw the faintest of smiles on Richard's lips when that tender kiss landed, though. Given that Richard is six-foot-something tall and looks like he goes on 10k runs for the fun of it... that drink is going to have to come to him.

Bleu can't shift the elf but a few inches. Reluctantly, he'll have to pull himself away from Richard, to go grab that bottle. Whether Bleu will attempt to wake the sleeper is another question entirely.

Peach Parlay Afterparty - RPLOG

2019-11-06T05:06:10Z

Slippery Richard: Created page. This is my first ever RPlog posting, so please tear it apart and put it back together if it's not formatted correctly.

=Participants=
* [[Bleu]] (male herm)
* [[Fenris]] (male)
* [[Slippery Richard|Richard]] (male herm)

And an OOC cameo appearance by [[Fluffess]]
=Date=
11/3/2019

*Took place immediately after [[Perfect Peach Parlay - RPLOG]]. Hosted by [[Bleu]].

=Log=
Bleu saunters right on into his apartment, looking quite satisfied with himself. Made a good tried, snogged his mate, and managed to get two cute guys to follow him home, too! "Welcome to Casa de la Bleu. Make yourselves at home... Can I get either of you anything? A drink? Snack?" He slips off his windbreaker, leaving himself entirely au naturale. "Isn't the view up here amazing?"

Fenris looks dumbfounded around the glorious penthouse apartment. "How does a satyr afford a place like this?" he asks, jaw almost on the floor, "just keeping the floors stable must cost a fortune
this high up!" He ogles the marble counters, then the furniture, then the jaccuzzi. Finally, he can keep his jaw hanging no longer and it snaps shut like a rolling curtain. "Definitely gonna want that drink," he says.

Richard asks, "What've you got available?" Taking in his surroundings, he can't help but crack wise. "Caviar and pre P-Day vintage alcohol? I'm with Fen on this. What's your secret?"

Bleu laughs. "No caviar, I'm afraid. Can't stand it. As for how I can afford it... I wasn't bluffing earlier when I said I spent 10k freecred on that player. I'm loaded. I've... Got a keen eye for business, I guess you could say." He approaches the minibar, and checks over the bottles. "Got some beer in the fridge. Wines, whiskey. One bottle of vodka I keep for my friends. Don't really care for the stuff." He pops open a bottle of wine. "The wine, incidentally, is almost all from... Well... I'm not sure I can explain. I'm an initiate of Dionysus, see?"

Fenris is a tanuki, the original booze hound. Any concerns he has are immediately silenced at the mention of giggle water. "You had me at Dionysus," he says, bellying up to the minibar, "Hit me!"

Richard finds that explanation a little lacking in the details department, but heck, he's a guest. No need to press the issue. He settles onto a barstool and says "One beer, please. Whatever's good." As for the other brief explanation, he just nods along. "Lotta gods coming out of the woodwork," he states, unslinging his long-guns and resting them under the seats of the mini-bar. "Makes sense that the god of having a good time would be interested in mortals' day-to-day affairs now..."

Bleu grins, and decides to demonstrate precisely what he means by 'unexplainable', as his two guests would find him suddenly holding a Roman decanter, from which he pours Fenris a glass of wine. Reaching under the bar, he also produces said beer. "I have no idea how it is that I can make wine appear out of thin air," he remarks.

Fenris is happy to partake of a little magical wine, gulping it happily from his glass and smacking his lips. The burly tanuki licks his whiskers and grins. "It's a good trick!" he says, holding out
his cup for a refill, "I like a practical god."

In the span of a single blink, Richard finds his host has acquired a container of wine that he certainly did not have before. Richard blinks a few more times before straightening up and saying, "Practical is right. The god of parties gave you a fantastic party trick. I think that's all we need to know about it."

Bleu laughs heartily, as he refills Fenris' glass. "Ha, well, Dionysus would be pleased to hear you both say that. A shocking amount of folks in Fairhaven still don't actually believe he exists, despite the ample evidence to the contrary." The satyr shrugs. "Their loss. Of course, one of you is a tanuki, the other an elf, so I suppose you'd be more inclined to recognize the supernatural..."

Fenris nods and takes a little more time with this glass. "I've met more than a few gods," the tanuki says, "I've made the supernatural sort of my area of study." He licks his lips and slurps down the rest of his drink before holding out the cup for more. "Dionysus seems like one I should put on my 'to meet' list!"

Richard swigs a couple mouthfuls of beer, then sets his glass down. "Elfhood's got nothin' to do with it. We don't understand how the nanites do what they do, we don't understand how the gods do what they do, we just see it happen and go with it. I'm just glad that this cosmic horror show is more of a cosmic horny show."

Bleu's gaze sweeps over Richard. "I dunno. Elfhood's certainly made you very pretty, at least." Seems he can't go even a few minutes without shamelessly flirting with Richard. He takes a sip of wine from his own jug, and chuckles, before happily refilling the tanuki's glass. "You should definitely meet him. He blessed me with this wonderfully horny form over a year ago, and my life's been more fun ever since..."

"Ha! Cosmic Horny show!" Fenris guffaws, gulping down yet another glass of satyr wine, "You know, a lot of the supernaturals I have met are pretty confused by how everything they do here tips toward sex!" He holds out his cup for a refill, eyes twinkling with mirth, interest, and more than a little booze. "So he accepted you in person?" he asks, "Dionysus, I mean?"

Richard waves a hand at the compliment. "Nah... everyone's good looking now. Gotta get really unlucky with your infections not to be. Like uhhh..." he drums his fingers against the marble countertop as he thinks. "Dwarves! Yeah, there are some dwarves just south of where I picked this infection up who have horrible skin conditions. Every single one of them. And blade beasts. Don't get me started, man. I've been around."

Bleu fixes his gaze on the elf again. "I *bet* you have," he replies. "Speaking of skin, yours looks *flawless*." His ears perk. He's being especially shameless tonight. "Oh, Fen, to answer your question... Yes. He did. It was truly memorable. Happened in a remote forest clearing. I had the most intense experience of love making. May have been just a vision, though..."

Fenris laughs and beats out a short drum rhythm on his belly. "Lord Tanuki accepted my dedication personally," he says, "And he got me looking my best!" The burly tanuki looks quite proud of his
fluffy tail and soft, sturdy form.

He slurps down another glass of wine. He gives a long, loud belch and laughs again. "I'm not super interested in sex," he admits, then gives his relatively large Tanuki endowment a slap, "But Lord Tanuki did give me some bells worth ringing."

Richard breaks eye contact with Bleu at the compliment. "Just nanomachines. Plenty of beautiful forms out there." Incidentally, his gaze lands on Fenris's... pride, as he gives it a thorough jiggling. Oh dear. He sits up in his chair and returns his eyes to Bleu's. "Any mutations that you guys admire? Don't say your literally god-given ones, either. I mean, ones you can really appreciate even if they're not you." He drinks a little more as he waits for an answer.

Bleu gives the tanuki's package an appraising glance. "Not into sex? That is a shame..." He smirks over at Richard. "Ah. A good question, my man. I've always been rather partial to rabbits, goats, otters, and horses. But the one I adore the most is the red kangaroo. Shall I demonstrate it for you?"

Fenris tilts his head, pondering the question. "What do you mean?" he asks, scratching his fluffy chest through his open shirt. "Like, on me? Or to look at? I like a good tail, I guess? Beings with
a little hair on their chests and a good chest for putting hair on." He shrugs. "We tanuki are shapeshifters, you know," he says, "More than just making our bells bigger. I've tried a whole lot of different shapes."

Richard asks, "Are you both shifters? Is that a nanite thing or a magic thing?" And, to Fenris specifically, "What do you mean by a 'good tail?' Like, floofy, or long, or doesn't get in the way of anything?" He swirls his beer around idly. "I prefer the latter, myself. Humans and similar, though yeah, there are a bunch of good horse and fox morphs running around. I'm kind of old fashioned that way." He also nods a quick assent to Bleu's question.

Bleu chuckles a little. "In my case it's nanite based. I'm a nanite adept, which means I can cause the nanites in my body to change into forms that I've mastered beforehand. Like this..." And with that, the satyr suddenly grows a lot furrier, becoming the aforementioned red kangaroo. "As an aside, my dear Richard... I gotta thing for humans and human-like forms... Such as yourself..." The kangaroo grins.

Fenris nods at Richard. "Big and fluffy!" he says happily, "Or thick and heavy! Or even with a big, fluffy tuft at the end. Tails are very attractive."

He shrugs at the second question. "Tanuki magic lets me always shift back to being either human or tanuki," he explains, "and I can turn into inanimate objects. Anything else uses the nanites, which is sort of our world's magic right now." He waves a hand at Bleu and grins, "Like, I could be a satyr too if I wanted."

Richard watches the fur fill in on Bleu's body and a third leg of a tail stretch out behind him. "Adept? Well, that makes two of us. Kind of why I broached the topic to begin with." He sets his beer down as Fenris explains that he's capable of being inanimate objects. "What, so I could be sitting on a tanuki right now and not know it?"

Bleu grins widely, taking another long sip from his jug of wine. "Nah, I check my place for stray tanuki. Not run across any yet..." He chuckles, then leans in, and give both Richard and Fenris a playful kiss, though there is a little more passion behind the one for the elf.

Fenris laughs warmly, first at the question, then at the kiss. "Stop!" he chuckles, "You'll make me blush!"

The tanuki gives Richard a wink, then turns a rather acrobatic cartwheel up onto the minibar. He stands on his hands and turns in a circle as his form slumps down like clay on a potter's wheel. It spins a little more, then resolves into a beautiful Greek Aphora, complete with etchings of rather lewdly carved satyrs chasing after tubby tanuki.

Richard flinches at the cold 'roo nose and warm lips on his cheek, recoiling at the sheer forwardness of it. His eyes go wide, and he barely has the presence of mind to watch the tanuki's demonstration. He chugs the rest of his beer before slamming the empty glass on the counter. "Two whiskey shots. Now," he orders. His brow is furrowed, but his lips are just barely turned up at the corners.

Bleu watches Fenris' display with keen interest. "Yeah, I can't do anything like that..." Richard's demand for two whiskey shots does not go unanswered, however, and the satyr opens a bottle, and fills up the elf's glass. "Ah, yes... Two whiskey shots..." He tries to read that expression, but doesn't know entirely what to make of it.

The ornate vase just sits there on the counter, for all the world like a perfectly ordinary bit of clay and paint. If someone were to put an ear to the mouth of the vase, they would hear gentle, wine scented snoring. Guess the tanuki has had his fill and is down for the count.

Next part: [[Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 2: Alcoholic Boogalewd]]

==OOC highlights==

*[[Fenris]] was having trouble with his client's encoding all afternoon. He fixed it halfway through the RP. This log has been edited to remove those errors, but here's a prime example of what was happening to him.

<code style="background:silver">?You had me at Dionysus,? he says, bellying up to the minibar, ?Hit me!?

<OOC> Fenris says, "This punctuation problem is vexing."

<OOC> Bleu says, "Can't help but read it as Fenris saying Hit Me?! in a very confused way, lol."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I know, right?"</code>

<code style="background:silver">Fluffess has arrived.

<Lick> Fluffess runs their tongue all over Bleu's face

Fluffess has left.

<OOC> Bleu is drive-by licked, apparently.

<OOC> Richard says, "Break yo self, fool."</code>

<code style="background:silver"><OOC> Fenris says, "Time for me to call it a night, gents."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Thanks for the RP."

<OOC> Bleu says, "See ya."

<OOC> Richard says, "Good night! That shift must've taken it out of you."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Concentrated the alcohol, I guess."

<OOC> Fenris says, "I just have to be elsewhere. Later!"

<OOC> Richard says, "Hope we didn't scare you off. I know you said you weren't interested in lewd."

<OOC> Fenris says, "Nah, you are fine. I just have to go. Have fun!"</code>

Serene Elf

2019-04-05T21:21:51Z

Slippery Richard: Flavor text added.

{{Monster
|head=[[Disarming Smile]], [[Long Ears]]
|torso=[[Vitality]]
|arms=[[Sharpshooter]]
|legs=[[Feline Agility]]
|tail=[[Erotic Dance]]
|skin=
|groin=[[Deep Healing]]
|location1=Woodfield Industrial Area
|level1=31-38
}}

A fairly typical wood-elf type of elf. Calm. Has relatively pure intentions. Good at archery. Presumably likes nature and taking long walks in the forest. Has the second longest clitoris of any feral in the game.

What, you don't usually associate elves with clit-dicks? Maybe it's just me. As of this publication, this mutation is second only to the [[Mutant Hyena]] in terms of lady parts that could make a man jealous. Also has loads of description altering lstats for clothes, body type, whether that huge clit looks like a dong, etc. See <code style="background:silver">help lstat</code> in-game for info on how to set them.

==Gender==
Herm

==Habitat==
[[Woodfield]] City - Industrial Area

Mutant Hyena

2019-04-05T20:51:43Z

Slippery Richard: Added flavor text.

{{Monster
|head=[[Bleeding Bite]]
|torso=[[Milk Squirt]], [[Muscle Mass]]
|arms=[[Gouging Claws]]
|legs=
|tail=[[Pack Loyalty]]
|skin=[[Furry Hide]]
|groin=[[Overpenetrate]]
|location1=Fairhaven Chemical
|level1=41-43
}}

A chemical-doused hyena that glows in the dark and has two dicks. Three, if you count its clitoris. Currently holds the record of being the feral with the longest clit in the game, followed closely by [[Serene Elf]].

==Gender==
Herm

[[Category:Monsters]]

Tentacular Titan

2019-03-22T02:30:37Z

Slippery Richard: Added flavor text and powers.

{{Monster
|head=[[Vine Torrent]]
|torso=[[Expansiveness]], [[Muscle Mass]]
|arms=
|legs=
|tail=[[Tail Smash]]
|skin=[[Stretchy]], [[Smooth Hide]]
|groin=[[Jelly Whip]]
|location1=Kaiju Island
|level1=
|location2=
|level2=
}}

A very large fellow with many noodly appendages.

Cosm

2019-03-22T02:19:55Z

Slippery Richard: Added flavor text. I had no idea what this thing would be until I saw it ingame.

{{Monster
|arms=[[Prism Storm]]
|tail=[[Heavy Smash]]
|groin=[[Engulf]]
|head=[[Hypnosis]]
|legs=[[Gigantic Body Slam]]
|skin=[[Jellied Hide]]
|torso=[[Expansiveness]]
}}

Look up at the sky on a clear night, away from the light pollution of civilization, and you may find yourself awestruck by the natural beauty of stars and nebulae. Billions and billions of years have passed to bring them to where they are now. We have the privilege of observing but a sliver of an instant of the universe's near-everlasting grandiosity, its unfathomable scale, its chaos and serenity.

...now take that night sky and mold it into a humanoid that can force you to feel that same sense of wonder or any other emotion just by looking deep into their eyes. That's a Cosm.

[[Category:Monsters]] [[Category:Supports Kemonomimi]]

Graceful Crane

2019-03-22T01:56:24Z

Slippery Richard: Added links to powers. Forgot when I was making the previous edit.

{{Monster
|head=[[Peck]]
|torso=[[Muscle Mass]]
|arms=[[Wind Buffet]]
|legs=[[Skitter]]
|tail=
|skin=[[Feathery Hide]], [[Water Adaptation]]
|groin=[[Distracting Lure]]
|location1=Zoo
|level1=
|location2=
|level2=
}}

Polite, dignified, and will gossip for hours if given the chance. Enjoys tea with crumpets.

Graceful Crane

2019-03-22T01:51:37Z

Slippery Richard: Added powers and flavor text.

{{Monster
|head=Peck
|torso=Muscle Mass
|arms=Wind Buffet
|legs=Skitter
|tail=
|skin=Feathery Hide, Water Adaptation
|groin=Distracting Lure
|location1=Zoo
|level1=
|location2=
|level2=
}}

Polite, dignified, and will gossip for hours if given the chance. Enjoys tea with crumpets.

Blade Elf

2019-03-22T01:49:22Z

Slippery Richard: Added flavor text

{{Monster
|head=[[Long Ears]]
|torso=[[Feline Agility]], [[Solid Frame]]
|arms=[[Blade Flurry]], [[Scythe Sweep]]
|legs=[[Spur Slash]]
|tail=
|skin=[[Smooth Hide]]
|groin=
|location1=Woodfield Park
|level1=
|location2=
|level2=
}}

Elves are sometimes referred to as having 'knife-ears.' This mutation wasn't content to stop at the ears. Snikt!

==Gender==
Male

[[Category:Supports Kemonomimi]]

Bro

2019-03-22T01:37:59Z

Slippery Richard: Removed from Unreleased Forms category. Added powers.

{{Monster
|arms=Full Nelson
|tail=Nasty Insult
|groin=Cock Slap
|head=Blowhard
|legs=Takedown
|skin=
|torso=Juggernaut, Muscle mass
|location1=Woodfield Prison
|level1=
}}

The lowest form of life yet discovered.

Woodfield

2019-03-22T01:11:53Z

Slippery Richard: Updated to reflect RSX relocating

'''Woodfield''', in Washington state, along with [[Fairhaven]], is one of the first release-points of the [[Promethean Nanites]], and is the former location of the headquarters of [[RSX]]. RSX is one of the two corporations who developed the Nanites in the first place.

Woodfield is broken up into a number of general areas: In the north of the city is the [[Industrial Area]] in the south of the city is the residential area.

==Maps==
A map of Woodfield.
[[image:Woodfield_Map.png|none]]
==Major Areas==
[[Church of Promethea]]

[[Seelie Sweets#Candy Factory|Seelie Sweets Candy Factory]]

[[Woodfield Park]]

[[Graveyard]]

[[Gymnasium]]

[[City Sewers (Woodfield)]]

[[Scrapyard]]

==Group Headquarters==
[[RSX]]

==Non-Combat Zones==
[[Jakes Hardware]]

[[General Hospital]]

[[Six-Fingered Inn]]
[[Category:Locations]]

RSX

2019-03-22T01:09:33Z

Slippery Richard: /* Basic Information */

==Basic Information==

[[File:RSX_candidate.png|300px|thumb|Company Logo]]
RSX, in partnership with [[Zephyr]], was one of the two corporations involved in the creation of the [[Promethean Nanites]]. They were headquartered in [[Woodfield, Washington State]] up until January 2019, when they relocated to the eastern edge of [[Fairhaven]] city limits. They are no longer partnered with Zephyr. Relations between the two corporations is neither friendly nor adversarial, and they will occasionally collaborate. Prior to the advent of the nanites, RSX was primarily known for military weapons and technology contracts.

==Background==
RSX Solutions was founded in the early 1900s as a government-funded scientific lab. Their lab coats were stiffly starched from the start, and this has never quite changed since then. With the emerging importance of the microprocessor, the lab gradually began focusing its studies on it, developing cutting-edge electronics in the highly competitive market and reaching for as much government funding as it could get. When offered the chance to develop Prometheus, RSX Solutions was eager: the possibilities, and the funding, were nearly limitless. But there was a catch—they had to partner with Zephyr Incorporated, a 100% civilian-run bio firm that wouldn't know confidentiality procedures or proper testing protocols if their life depended on it. RSX Solutions nonetheless agreed to the partnership, remaining ever professional. The results are what we have now: the nanites, once created, were unleashed destructively.

Some say RSX is to blame. It was their circuitry that controlled the nanites in the first place, after all. Where else could it have gone wrong? RSX Solutions denies this, and points to other factors such as Zephyr's inadequate quality control. In present-day matters, RSX also claims gross negligence on Zephyr Inc.'s part for failing to ensure proper inoculation of Zephyr employees against mutation-inducing nanites. As one RSX employee noted: "We've had an anti-nanite inoculation procedure since half-way into the project. I cannot fathom why the 'Management' of Zephyr Incorporated would choose to not make it easily available, and indeed a requirement, to those who work for them." As a general rule, however, Zephyr and RSX are not openly hostile towards one another, and occasionally engage in joint field operations.

RSX Solutions employees are all given free and easy access to anti-infection inoculation (consider resistance or immunity merits RP-essential choices for this faction). Employees who degrade themselves or who often change mutations are frowned upon, and can look forward to a sturdy glass ceiling in the corporation if they don't get their bodies and minds back under control.

==Attitude Towards Mutants==
Quoted from the "Societal Shifts" global research project results:

"We welcome the reduced violence that many of these 'mutant tribes' display. If they require assistance, or wish to offer it in the reconstruction efforts of America, they are a welcome addition. Let us be clear however, organized does not always mean peaceful. Our agents will be on high alert for the increasingly violent strains and dealing with them properly."
[http://flexiblesurvival.com/research?Societal%20Shifts]

Essentially, if you are a mutant doing well, not causing violence (including overt sexual aggression), and are willing to work toward rebuilding, RSX has no issues with you.

==Goals==
Ultimately, RSX Solutions seeks to restore the American government to something resembling its old self, and to reestablish the infrastructure, peace, and stability of a now-ruined nation.

Quoted from "Ask Flexible Survival Questions":

"RSX is all about rebuilding America.

Some activities:

*Delivering supplies to communities.
*Fighting off wild mutant attacks.
*Escorting important skilled people through the wastes.
*Meeting new communities and recruiting community organizers.
*Hunting especially dangerous mutants.
*Gathering intel and research on various nanite phenomena."
[http://ask.flexiblesurvival.com/post/48263441739/as-an-rsx-player-i-feel-servery-limited-on-what-i-can]

[[Category:Theme]]