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Basement Bonanza Log
The House
The house is much like the rest of the housing around it. Victorian style with some side yards, an outside that's desperately in need of paint, and wild, fancy architecture. Along the side is a fenced yard containing a small kitchen garden, complete with a recently added chicken coop in the back.
The front door leads to a small foyer, whereas the side door by the garden goes straight into the kitchen. In the kitchen, there will be a number of foods available for anyone chipping in to snack on, with options for vegetarians and meat-eaters alike. (No blood, sorry vampires, but if you get peckish you might find someone willing to let you have a bite.) Shinjiro will aggressively shoo away anyone who shows up just to get food without actually contributing. It's for people who help only!!
The interior is weird, as to be expected. They've made it mostly liveable, most of the furniture in the living spaces in new, but there's still Victorian Classics such as too many patterns and portraits of strangers on the wall, and bad wallpaper in surprisingly cozy places. There's even a restroom on the ground floor, complete with fireplace by the tub. People taking a break are welcome to tool around on the ground floor, where things are markedly more normal. Any attempts to go upstairs, where the residents bedrooms are, will be dissuaded.
There's a dog to pet (Koromaru, an incredibly intelligent white shiba inu) or a Petal Wolf (Bela) or, if you want to risk a few fingers, Fie's hyena (Alfin). The hyena occasionally breaks out into mad giggles in other people's voices, occasionally parroting contextless statements in perfect mimicry of the people who live there. Scrounging around somewhere will be Louis's cat, Juniper, and then there's the coop full of chickens outside, a snapping turtle in the pond...
But you people aren't here for the relatively normal living space.
THE BASEMENT.
The air is cooler in the basement, and with that soft scent of wet stone. It's not disgusting or overwhelming, despite how locked up and sealed the area had been, and for who knows how long. More than anything else, it's just dark. They've carried a few magitech lanterns down to the foot of the stairs, at least, in initially scoping it out to try and see what's down there: and even from just stepping off the stairs, it's clear to see that this is some sort of wild magical hoarder situation.
Walls are packed with everything from displays of oddities and curiosities to books and containers of liquids, the labels long since faded and peeled, to even rusted lockboxes, worryingly rectangular and human-lengthed, each with stiff, sturdy locks. In another corner, there's more shelves cluttered and overflowing with wet specimens preserved in jars. Many are completely unidentifiable. Many are absolutely identifiable, and it's unclear which is worse. There's everything from animals to plants to fish to even pieces of monsters or humans/witches alike.
Scattered throughout, there's lumpy sheets covering what can only be assumed to be furniture, as well as household items, baubles, trinkets, books, scrolls, and just general things crammed in any and every nook and cranny that can be found. If there was any sort of organization, it was lost well before the prior owner stopped their collecting.
In one corner, there's an iron spiral staircase that just leads into the ceiling, going nowhere. A few iron Maidens and sarcophagi can be found stored away, some of them haphazardly fallen over.
It's absolute chaos of junk layered on top of junk, pinned down by even more junk. And it's clearly going to take a lot of trips up and down those stone stairs to even begin to unearth some of the wild things stashed away.
Maybe if you're lucky, you'll unearth a friend to help light your way.
The Stuff.
I've gone ahead and written up some examples for people to run wild with-- and for anything else, feel free to either make things up, OR request something in the top thread!
Some of the Major Attractions of the Basement include:
An Iron Maiden. - Unlike many others, there's no spikes visible within. In fact, it looks almost welcoming. There's a faint enchantment to it, gently pulling at the senses of whomever gets too close. It's plush, and soft inside. Doesn't it look warm? The rest of the basement is so musty and damp and cold. Surely taking a rest would be fine.
Once someone steps into it, however, the doors close shut, and the victim is forced to rewatch their most embarrassing memory. When said memory has played out, however, they are released, no worse for the wear, and immune to the Maiden's Seduction for the next several days. Good thing you're the only one who saw that memory..... right??
A helpful (if creepy) teapot. - This teapot has one job, and it will perform it. It will serve you tea. It will not stop until it has served you tea. No, it doesn't even know what tea is. It also doesn't seem to care if you have a container to hold a beverage or not. It. Will. Serve. You. Tea.
...However, who knows what liquid is actually within it. Feel free to use this skittering, crawling friend for anything. It could be as benign as incessantly following your character like an annoying and needy dog. It could be as horrifying as using force and chitinous claws to make your character ingest something. (Which could be delicious tea. Or could be anything else. Up to you!)
A speaker of secrets. - A jarringly hideous piece of taxidermy, the ravens screech the secrets of whomever touches it. Sometimes they're wrong, though. It's anyone's guess if they're yelling your deepest secrets, or if they're just making things up. Anyway, here's hoping whoever you're with doesn't just think you're using it as an excuse. (Or, if what they speak is true, hopefully people believe your excuse. Good luck carrying this thing all the way up and through the house.)
Vaguely Insulting Dishware. - What it says on the tin. The text seems to shift and change to insult you, specifically, and often times very passive aggressively.
A beautiful, floral chair - Like a flower in full bloom, this is another object that anyone nearby could find themselves magically drawn towards. It even smells soft and sweet- almost like fresh rain and honeysuckle. It's pristine looking, in comparison to all the objects around it, covered with dust and debris, and looks soft and pillowy and inviting. It's wide enough that someone could crawl onto and drape themselves across it.
At which point the petals will pull closed, enveloping them in a sweet cocoon of which they come out.... different. The effects are, as always, up to the player, as is the duration of them. (Transmutation spells are finite, of course, and the effects aren't strong enough to last more than a few days.)
A giant crystal. - It'll take a team to move this humongous chunk of rock-- Or maybe just a duo of dragon or chimera. The first person to touch it, however, will find that it is not only reflective, but it projects. The light hitting it is projected in prisms, and all take a form based on the person who touches it. This could be a warped, twisted reflection showing how one thinks of themself. It could be a projection of deepest fantasies. It could just be whatever you're thinking at the moment. Or maybe it's a mockery. Play around at your hearts content!
Potions of any and all type! - You're not the type to just drink mysterious liquids in someone's basement (Unless you are, in which case, go for it!) but so many of these are cracked and worn. It's entirely possible some of them work on contact or inhalation. The effects can be almost anything, from Alice in Wonderland style shrinking and growing, to floating or glowing or transmuting. Perhaps one is a mood enhancer! Another could be poison. And a third could make the tips of your fingers grow hair. It's a mixed bag.
Cursed jewelry of any and all types - Same thing as the potions, these can be enchanted to have effects as minor as making your hair always look perfect (though there's a smell of cod liver that won't go away--) to as major as clamping in and biting through the skin, drinking your blood to fuel its dark powers. (Said dark powers could be anything from animatronic taxidermy coming alive to mimic your every move, to a spell to charm everyone around you, to the ability to speak with termites.) Again, go wild! And if you have trouble getting that jewelry off, there's gotta be some bolt cutters somewhere around here.... right?
There is MUCH MUCH ELSE that can be found! If you would like to be assigned a random Thing, feel free to give me the general vibe of what you're wanting, and I'll come up with something crazy for you! If you would like more than one thing, THAT IS FINE TOO!
FINAL OOC NOTES
In a list format because i'm lazy:
--NO EFFECT IN THE BASEMENT CAN BE GAMEBREAKING. Mind control, dreamwalking, and memory alteration are no-go.
--The contents of the unenchanted books in the basement are mostly nonsense or boring, but you can absolutely find some sort of burn book with hot deets on (non-plot) NPCs
--Any effect will eventually wear off. The process can be expedited with a witch. It's your choice how skilled that witch needs to be.
--"But susan someone else in a previous thread already took care of the item i was gonna use!" it's magic there can be two of them. or it can teleport itself repeatedly back into the basement. i'm not going to keep track and time isn't real.
--Mark any explicit content, plzkthx.
--Let me know if your character is enough of a jerk to try going to the second floor of the house. because a witch lives here and nearly all of them are mistrustful as hell so you know that's not gonna work out. (I'll let you know exactly how, if your character would try it.)
--If you're gonna die, talk to the mods about it first. if you're gonna kill anyone then double talk to the mods about it first.
--Go wild like you graduated from crazy go nuts university
And most importantly:
--FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ANY QUESTIONS! I'm available in the top comments here, though you are welcome to PM me, or shoot me a DM on discord (Soozaphone#3966), or shoot me a private plurk (
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[A swallow. She holds the thing, stubborn, staring at it for a few seconds as she blanches slowly... and then lets go, allowing it to float on to its intended path.
She needs to bite.
More than that, honestly. She needs the whole damned feral package. And the desire to shove it down and behave is rapidly being overwhelmed by whatever insidious influence is in that stupid necklace.
Her fingers flex. What the hell is she supposed to do about this? The more she fights it, the more powerful the need becomes. And she can't just... slam him into the wall right here and make an attempt at it...
Except that's exactly what seems to happen, albeit at a slow-motion pace. She puts hands on his biceps, starts to walk him step by step into the nearest wall, and tries to keep her cool as she talks to him, even though her body language is long past that.]
I don't know what it is, but something about that thing is freaking all my vampire instincts out.
[She breathes hard at the effort to keep it all contained. There is a sort of plea for help in her gaze as she looks up at him; whether the help amounts to smashing the necklace to bits, letting her go at him right here, or getting the hell out of dodge before something bad happens is up to him.]
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And Emet-Selch considers refusing. Considers demanding she get a hold on herself; was her will so weak that she'd be so quickly lost to a few undead instincts? No wonder she'd had such difficulty containing the Light. No wonder she had found herself unworthy of his patronage- and rejected here once more, even if it had been her act to annul their Bond.
He thinks quickly across those moments. It's not a forced retreat, but an allowance of covering, a willing encroachment, until he's back against a wall, a space framed by shelves, locked in by the much smaller woman.
A more reasonable thing to do, perhaps, would be to either get the pendant back and break it, or hopefully get Irhya out of its area of influence (and hope again that it was the sort of thing that could be triggered off by the mere introduction of distance or breakage- though there certainly were no signs of that being the case yet). Also reasonable, but perhaps also selfish, would be to extricate himself and leave Irhya to her hunger (and allow whoever crossed her path next to be the one preyed upon instead). But it's not any concern for others that causes him to remain, and nor is it even particular mercy for Irhya's own condition- to be rendered so suddenly under the thrall of instinct.
But a sort of curiosity instead is what keeps him in place, a fascination for seeing her like this- far different from her appearance whenever she was just feeling a bit peckish. Perhaps he'd come to appreciate the suggestion of danger. But whatever the reason, he stays, gold eyes vivid in the dark of the room. This was more diverting than fulfilling a pendant's dreams.]
--Give in, then.
[It's a simple command, idle, haughty, but it's with interest rather than coldness that he looks down on her.]
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You say that, but we're still in someone else's basement.
[She grins with a glint of light off her teeth, despite the need weighing on her physically and mentally. Maybe she's not resisting as much as she could be, since he hasn't teleported himself away at the first sign of trouble, and seems almost intrigued by the notion for some reason. And then there's the way he tells her to give in as if it were the most obvious thing in the world...
Standing on tiptoe, she nips at his neck, but with the teasing flats of her teeth as if she were a petulant child being told to wait before eating her dinner. Oh, it's tempting to just sink in, but she does still have the fight in her to hold back for a bit if she really has to. Time, however, is of the essence.]
What a pain. I was not counting on getting this worked up because of some cursed rock.
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[Oh, sure he could teleport them straight off, return them to either of their rooms at the house, take mercy on Irhya's control and her enhanced vampire-instincts. But he's intrigued and contrary, merciless and curious and not particularly fussed over a bit of suggestive handling in the corner of some stranger's questionably proportioned basement. So for now he would encourage to see if she would give in- and if so, how far.
Eventually he might be bothered to depart, but for the time being....
Emet-Selch only tilts his neck to her, as though offering more than a nip. The existing bruises and bitemarks seem to indicate that this is not attention he's unused to enduring.]
If you're not hungry after all, you could consider controlling yourself instead.
[As though it were that easy, as though he weren't murmuring it in a low tone meant for sensitive miqo'te ears alone, letting an arm slip casually around her waist, hand splaying at her lower back.]
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But I don't think you actually want me to do that.
[If he's drawing a line in the sand to be facetious, she's going to step over it. That's just what she does. She can apologize to the house owners later if they get caught; for right now, though, it's more important to sate the drive before it eventually devolves to something worse. He's the one indirectly responsible for that, anyway, isn't he?
Her nails drag parallel lines over the opposite side of his neck from where he bares it to her. Instead of bending and digging in with her teeth like the muscles of her neck tell her to, though, she uses the opportunity to push him harder against the wall, grinding their hips and shoving a knee between his as she pinions him down. For someone of her size, it shouldn't be nearly so easy, but her upper body strength was already incredibly built to begin with.]
You gonna play along if I take you for a ride?
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With a gesture like that....
[No, he'd be a trace disappointed if she did manage to collect herself, drag her senses back to reason, and her actions to sense. As it was, there was a directness there that appealed, something straightforward, without pretense, and potentially with fewer complications than usual (that they were in public hardly counted as a complication). She was abruptly starved, and once fed, would even be warm in his arms.
Shifting a bit against the wall, Emet-Selch feels thoroughly caught; size difference or not, it didn't surprise him. Whether it was vampire strength or Warrior strength didn't matter, he expected it, and didn't mind it- especially in circumstances like this one.
Hooking a leg around hers, he encourages the provocative gesture, keeping her leg pressed between his, as his fingers tease lower to brush the base of her fluffed tail.]
You may consider me willing to indulge you, perhaps.
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[The echo comes with a tint of predatory amusement, more than pleased that he's going along with this. If he'd been in a mood, he could've shoved her off... if he were a different person, he might've screamed bloody murder to top it off and embarrass the shite out of her.
Irhya sucks in a breath while a shiver travels up her spine. Well, if he's going to be cooperative this day, she may as well show him that vampires can suck more than just blood. As she reaches to tilt him down and cover his lips with her own, she nips his bottom lip with her blunt front teeth, with only the slightest suggestion of how they're framed by razor-sharp incisors on either side. The tip of her tail curls up with keen interest.]
I'll take that as a yes.
[It's murmured velvety and smooth against his mouth. The rest of her doesn't stop, either; her thigh continues to rub purposefully against his crotch, only half for practical reasons. True, having his blood running hot is more pleasant to her (and to him, in the end), but she can't deny the exceedingly selfish impulse, either. Would she have simply put a temporary lid on it and sought him out instead, had it been anyone else...? It's a dim thought that is quick to fade.]
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Willingly leaning down at her coaxing, he meets her kiss with one of his own, making that his reply, his affirmative to her assumption.
And the rub of Irhya's thigh was certainly an encouragement for him to remain, as well as to encourage her to continue. Though he hums his approval against her lips, the pause in his breathing is more telling- and the gradual hardening against her leg is more telling than that. But it's a pressure he languidly rolls his hips into, clearly undaunted, and practically at ease at getting aroused in some stranger's basement, where the sounds of people milling about weren't that far off, mixed with the occasional clatter of one object or another being disturbed.
Though he'll probably teleport them elsewhere eventually, he shows no sign of it for now, not when he could capture Irhya's lower lip between his (not nearly as sharp) teeth, tugging at it and giving it a brief suck. And if the miqo'te was keeping herself from lunging for his blood straight away, he would just occupy her mouth otherwise, slipping his tongue then between her lips, stroking it against her own.]
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Removing her mouth from him, she drags a line down the front of his throat, even though the desire to dig in without a care as to his survival beats hard in her gut, somewhere between stomach and chest. Her hands set to work, loosening the hem of his shirt and shoving one underneath to drag blunt nails down his side. Even though she has to lift her leg quite a bit to keep grinding so incessantly at him, she makes it work, though she also can't help but wish there was a stepstool nearby to help with her blasted lack of height.]
You're not worried we'll get caught?
[Whispered with a toothy smile, one more like a dog baring its teeth in assertion than an actual grin. She's not, evidently.]
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Worried...?
[His tone seems to indicate what he thought about that- which is to say, no, he was not worried. Apart from the hints of pleasant tension in his body, the almost casual roll of himself against her leg (while more-or-less assuming she would do everything she needed to, in order to continue pressing against his crotch), he seems entirely at ease. Languid and alert, as his fingers toy with the base of her tail.]
Though it is something of an inevitability.
[Words that he breathes against her hair, the top of her head. It wasn't as though he knew any disguise-based magic either, to either muffle their sounds or hide their presence. And at any moment, someone could poke their head around the corner, and even at this point it wasn't exactly unclear what they were up to.]
Does it bother you?
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Don't really wanna get kicked out, but...
[She shrugs to end that trailed-off sentence, as if what happens, happens. Fewer magicked goodies for her, but at the end of the day, it's not that big a deal. Probably.
Still standing on tiptoe, she starts to pry his shirt open from the top, just barely avoiding popping the buttons off when she realizes she can hear his heartbeat quite keenly, can even smell the blood flowing underneath. It's something she didn't think she was capable of, but perhaps her senses sharpen as she grows more feral. It's not something she's ever cared enough to test out for certain.]
But if you can teleport us back... that would be a real good idea right about now. This might get a tad messy.
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But in the end a sigh accompanies her work with his shirt, the promise of more attention to his skin. Tilting his head, he kisses the top of her head, between her ears.]
I suppose 'tis best to be polite... and avoid leaving further stains on someone else's floor.
[How gracious they were being, how considerate. Emet-Selch stills for a moment's worth of concentration, and the area around them ripples and changes- and they're deposited tidily in the middle of his room at their house. No more dubious trinkets around, no more potential gawkers.
No more wall for him to be immediately pressed against, and he takes an automatic step backwards due to her advances- but no more than that before he catches himself; Irhya was still much smaller than him, and couldn't bowl the Ascian over that easily.]
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Things don't stop once she finally makes the bite, though. Her hand makes the journey to his fly while the other holds him steady at the shoulder, undoes it, and maneuvers him out of his pants so she can stroke his length and drink of him at the same time. In the meantime, she perches herself partially on his knee, one leg still on the ground as she works.]
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