middaeg | Out of the mid-wood's twilight into the meadow's dawn

Entry tags:

Out of the mid-wood's twilight into the meadow's dawn | OTA

Who: fauns fauns FAUNS (and their enablers) (and anyone else)
When: Octeuril 31st
Where: The Haven
What: Somebody set up a trap specifically designed for Fauns. Or tried, anyway.
Warnings: F for Faunery; warnings per thread as needed!

It's a lovely day in Aefenglom and you are a ~~horrible~~ beautiful Faun.

Somewhere between the evening of the 30th and the midnight advent of the 31st, a disused corner of the Haven has turned into a patch of cultivated wilderness. Somewhere a little after midnight on the 31st, and the beginning of the full moons, several Fauns (and one or two others, Monsters and Witches alike) received an enthusiastic if slightly garbled written invitation to come see what awaits.

Gourd vines of all descriptions drape an abandoned cottage, its floating terraces, and half of a nearby house. Flowers in a riot of colors decorate them, some glowing softly and others exuding a fragrant perfume. The fruits hanging pendant or nestled on the ground defy description and beg to be tasted: There are tiny pumpkins no larger than grapes, thin-skinned and sweet, while massive savory marrows lurk in the underbrush to trip the unwary. A rare fist-sized specimen glimmers with enchantment and grants a rush of energy when eaten--along with fleeting, unpredictable changes (horns, fur, hooves) that make one a little more faunish for an hour or two.

Cheap furniture, clotheslines, and hanging sheets have been used to roughly shape the vines into an impromptu maze. The design's irregular, wandering, like whoever planned the corridors couldn't see what he was doing. It wanders in and out of the cottage, pouching into dead-ends and cozy little clearings that might fit two comfortably and three if they're familiar. Some of them have benches in them; others, piles of pillows; and still others are carpeted in thick and flowering moss. Heavy quilts in a riot of colors and patterns can be found neatly folded in the buildings, waiting for chilled revelers to find them. There are also covered braziers for the truly cold, though they seem powered by magic and not by flame.

Food and drink are lavishly if haphazardly provided, spread out through the bowers like a treasure hunt. Casks of mead with cups attendant, bowls of honey candy and glazed nuts, fruit both fresh and dried, and a variety of different sorts of cheese provide an ample repast (so long as one's not hungry for blood or meat). Entertainment's on the guests to provide, with simple musical instruments (mostly pipes, an occasional lap-harp) gracing many of the grottos; others have toys and games, of varieties both innocent...and not...strewn about them.

There are also oddities here and there in the maze, like the bower where someone took painstaking care to tie a half-hundred feathers to the low vine ceiling. Another nook teams with stingless bees of all varieties during the day. What else might await someone who's looking?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[L's dark eyes grow a little rounder in his pale face; he recovers quickly, rearranging his features into something more neutral, but Hector's words are a bit alarming for one particular reason. Which rival? He thinks it would be Niles, but is it possible word has gotten out about Light when he needs it contained?

He can fish for that, perhaps. Find out what Hector knows, if his latest Bonded is in any danger even if it's merely scrutiny outside of the tiny, tight circle of people who know.]

I am his witch, and... I suppose I should thank you for heeding his advice on that matter. He's usually right about that kind of thing.

[He nods, shoulders relaxing slightly away from where his shaggy hair grazes and covers his ears unevenly.]

I don't go to a lot of parties. It seemed important to Myr, though, and...

[Well, Myr had made him feel like he was wanted. That made a big difference, and L doesn't seem strikingly like the type who is often wanted. Something about the guarded way he carries himself, as if he kind of realizes he's an intruder and is waiting to be called out on it.]

It's the opposite for you, though. Or it would be, if you'd been to enough to note consistent absences.

[Oh my, how many rivals does this witch have? Hector only knows of the one, because Myr made a network post asking for mediation.]

He did let me take my hammer to an undead centaur who bothered his other bonded.

[He points out, not because he doesn't trust Myr's judgment, but because he doesn't want Linden to consider it unfailing. That's something Hector tends to do, and it's gotten him into trouble before.]

Yes, I come to most faun-run parties. We tend to flock by instinct. It's good you came. The more the merrier.

[Flocks don't have to just be fauns, after all. If Hector were the type to host a party, he'd want both of his bonded to be there.]

[Hey, don't knock a man's collections! The heart wants what it wants, even when mediation is necessary.]

I'd heard something about that incident.

[He thinks it was during a time he could have stood to be more aware of quite a lot, but it was significant enough to slice through at least some of the ennui.]

...thank you.

[For saying that his presence here is good. He's not sure that's true, yet, but at the very least he hasn't done anything to spoil it.]

What is there to know about parties like this? Since it's my first one, I suppose I should ask for some pointers, even if it's late.

[Mercifully. Less time to be a disaster.]

We all survived, so it turned out well enough.

[It was an absolute shit-show, but time and alcohol have dulled Hector to how close he'd come to dying that night. But that's not something to worry about at a party.

Especially not when Myr's bonded is in need of a faun mentor. Hector's probably not the best for this, considering how much of a hermit he'd been before coming here, but maybe baby steps are best for Linden.]

Oh, you'll need something to drink, that's a given. If you like games, there's usually gambling and games of chance, but be warned, most of them cheat.

[It had taken Hector entirely too long to figure that one out. He'd thought he had just the shittiest luck.]

If anyone asks you to lock horns, say no. It's rutting season and they just want to ram things with their horns.

[Linden probably could've figured that one out on his own, but Hector's on an advice-giving roll now.]

Most people come for drinking, dancing, and fucking. Usually all three. You don't strike me as much of a dancer, so you should probably move on to the other two.

[L nods; he is often beholden to the notion that there are things that are more important than survival. He also knows that the game isn't a concept that means much beyond something innocent and fun, to most people. Like the games at this party, that Hector mentions.

He swallows. He needs to loosen the hell up, doesn't he? And there's a reliable way to do that.]

I can handle cheaters. And drinking.

[He handles one of those things better than the other.]

You're right that I'm not much of a dancer. And...

[Well. There's no really graceful way to say that the only people who have ever seen him as a sexual creature were a computer and a successor who had mistaken possession for love.

He forces a smile.]

I will get a drink. What do you think is good?

[Hector wants to make sure Linden has a good time. If he doesn't, he might not come back for more, and that would be doing Myr a disservice.]

Come on, we'll find you something worthwhile. There are some decent wines, and the ciders are a good choice if you don't want something too heavy. If you like the harder stuff, try the whiskey.

[The witch hesitated over the 'fucking' part Hector mentioned, so Hector (tipsy as he still is) assumes he just needs to warm up to that.]

What games do you play? [Since L's sure he can handle the cheaters, Hector's assuming he plays some game of chance.]

[In truth, L does want something heavier. Higher gravity, faster, has a way of pulling him down to earth.

Of course, there's a risk that comes with it of not being able to get back up again. That, and he'd prefer to remember this night, unlike others, as well as the day preceding it.]

...Whiskey, to start, and I'll switch to cider after.

[Compromise is good, or it seems that way, at least.]

You know? I like high stakes. That being said, I don't gamble unless I think I can win.

[Only fools stake everything on pure chance, after all.]

Thinking I might lose, though... that's kind of a rush. I won't lie.

Mmmmmmh, I think I know what you mean.

[He pours them two glasses of whiskey. Hector's already past tipsy, but fauns are able to put away a lot more booze than their size should allow. A little more won't hurt, right?]

It's like getting fucked in a place someone might walk into. You don't want it to happen, but the possibility makes it more thrilling.

[That's basically equivalent, isn't it? Hector's a drunk, horny faun, this is where his brain is. He clinks his glass against L's with a flash of a smile.]

[L laughs, the startled kind. He's sober, preferring to keep his wits razor-sharp around Light Yagami, but he can let his guard down here, can't he? He swallows quickly, with the rationale that he has catching up to do, here.]

Your wording is ambiguous. You don't want someone to walk in on you, or you don't want to get-- fucked, in a place someone might walk into?

[L's not in the habit of interrupting his crisp, formal words with profanity. He trips noticeably over his attempt to match Hector's rougher tone.]

[The smile grows as Linden echoes his crude words. Hopefully Myr won't be mad at Hector if he corrupts his bonded a little.]

Both, I suppose. You should pick a more private place, but if you don't, you hope to hell no one spots you.

[The witch is so awkward and apparently innocent, Hector can't help but tease him a little. He leans in closer to L and lowers his voice to a whisper.]

Like if I were to wrap us up in one of those blankets from the maze, and jerk you off beneath it, it'd be doubly exciting- for the thrill of doing it somewhere forbidden, and the risk of getting caught.

[L has a way about him; maybe it's his wide eyes and apparent youth, or the fact that he really hasn't been physically intimate with anyone in the better part of a year. Even the trysts he has engaged with have had some sort of extenuating circumstance, whether it was a calculating supercomputer or an obsessed successor candidate seeking his affection.

The awkwardness is wholly genuine, even if the innocence might be a touch misrepresented. He laughs again, more loudly... but more slowly, too, as though second-guessing the reaction even as it's happening.]

...you're serious.

[Possibly the most surprising thing of all.]

I could be.

[It's an offer. Hector gives Linden's leg a quick pat, then leans back.]

Finish that drink. It's a faun party, you have to indulge at least one vice.

[And after you drink up, L, the two can decide what other fun party activities to indulge in.]

[It is an offer. L is reticent to assume as much, but the cues are all there. Even he can't miss them, and the brushing contact confirms it.

Is it a drunk thing? A faun thing? A Hector thing? Or...]

I don't suppose Myr put you up to this.

[Because if it is a faun thing, Myr has never made those sorts of overtures, at least not so boldly. But perhaps as a faun, a Bonded's dry spell would be noted, considered something to be remedied, and Myr is the type to be owed favors or at least have friends glad to do them.

Even unpleasant favors, perhaps. L doesn't need to be told twice, at least, to finish his drink, which he tosses back quickly, even before Hector answers.]

[Hector huffs out a chuckle. The thought of Myr acting as a pander is an amusing one. The deer can be devious, but not like that.

At least, not that Hector's seen.]

No, he didn't. But he's a friend, and I do want to make sure his bonded has a good time tonight.

[He watches L down the drink as bidden. The man is a puzzle, to be sure. Hector enjoys a good puzzle.]

It is so surprising? You're amusing, and I'm not doing anything else at the moment.

Yes, Myr... is that.

[A friend, to both of them. He wants to laugh again, and for it to sound light, and natural, and create an easier mood. It doesn't happen; he's drinking, which never really fails to affect him. He knows as much all too well from previous experiences, and he's being rather intentionally reckless on this particular evening.

Being careful and keeping pace are such cruelly contradictory pursuits.]

I find clowns amusing. It doesn't mean I want to stimulate them sexually.

[For all that L doesn't get a lot of action, it's preferable to a tryst based on pity or obligation. That really would be the worst thing.]

You say that like it's not somebody's fetish.

[But Hector shrugs. He's in a playful mood, but he's not trying to truly make Linden uncomfortable. That would have the opposite of the desired effect.]

It's just an option I'd be willing to explore. But there are plenty of others. We could go play a game, or bet on one of the stag-matches outside. I could show you pictures of my dog. We could eat some food. It's a party. You can do whatever you want.

Paraphilias are wide and varied in scope.

[An earnest contribution to the conversation, rather than any sort of acknowledgment that it's a joke. On a good day it's difficult to draw a bead on the detective's particular puzzle-box of a sense of humor. When he's sober it's even harder, but that's well on its way to changing.

Alcohol unlocks his worst self, but it holds appeal for a reason. For a little while, anyway, he's more relaxed, more social, different enough from his typical self that he's more willing to believe that someone might genuinely want his company.]

Will you talk to me?

[About something very specific. Allow him to elaborate.]

Tell me how you proposition someone and make your intentions known. Is it easier when they're strangers and you have less to lose? Or when you know them, and know that they like you, but comparatively stand to lose much more?

[Hector nods. A lesson? He's not the best person to explain social interactions, but he's certainly brushed up on seduction since he became a faun.]

Alright, I can do that. First thing to know is, humans are completely illogical and inconsistent. So you'll never find one method that works for everyone.

[He leans back and rolls his shoulders.] Hmmmm. Before I came here and became a faun, I would have needed to know a person more before I'd proposition them. Now, it's easier, because people expect it, and don't hold my offers against me as much.

[He looks Linden over, trying to gauge just how pertinent this conversation is to him. Idle curiosity, or is he actively trying to seduce someone? Hector is still trying to figure him out.]

I can try to give you some pointers.

[L nods, following the premise easily. Yes, humans are illogical and inconsistent; he realizes as much, always has.]

You'd attribute much of your recent success in this regard to having become a faun, then.

[There's not much to L. Hector's glance-over is unlikely to reveal many boons; though he's dressed well tonight on account of Light's gift, that's unusual for him. He's scrawny, with a hunched back, owlish eyes, pale skin that says he doesn't go outside often. He looks youthful for his age, but that actually might work against him instead of in his favor.]

Yes. I'd like that.

[Another drink too, maybe. His is empty; nerves have a way of canceling out any intention to pace oneself.]

[Still not really certain why L needs this knowledge, but with his typical lack of caution, Hector does his best to impart what wisdom he has.]

First off, it doesn't matter as much what you say, but how you say it, when you're trying to get your intent across. Watch.

[He settles back against his chair, lifts his glass, and with a smile and a casual shrug, asks:] Drink with me?

[Then he leans forward, hand once again brushing Linden's leg, and lowers his voice to an intimate whisper.] Drink with me.

[It's over-exaggerated for the point of the lesson, but Hector hopes he's getting the point across. Body language, tone, proximity, all important factors to consider.]

Edited (coding) 2020-12-20 05:20 (UTC)

[Learning and teaching are both forms of interacting that L engages with relatively easily. Perhaps it's that adjustment of expectations, the acceptance and the premise that someone is coming to the lesson lacking in some way.

He doesn't blink as Hector demonstrates the difference in both approaches, as if afraid to miss something. This harkens back to the way the SQUIP taught him about sex, but flirting never quite clicked; in fact, he'd been advised to speak as little as possible and rely on physicality to get the message across.

He plays along, partly because he's a dutiful study, and partly because he could well want to get swept up in the game he's learning.]

Something that goes down easy, or hard?

[Hector's lips twitch at the corners, the hint of a smile, as L begins to play along. Now here's a fun game to keep them amused during the party.

He pretends to consider it, tapping his finger on the side of his cheek as he pauses.]

Hmmm. Why not both? Something easy to start, then we'll see what we have a thirst for...

[He scoots in close to L, and drapes an arm along his shoulders. With his other hand, he clinks his glass against L's.]

[The game is selected and the participants engaged. L leans a cheek into his open palm, propped up on a sharp elbow, as he listens to Hector with interest that is either feigned or genuine, but exaggerated.

His over-wide eyes sell it rather convincingly. There's a slight intake of breath at the contact, if only because it's been so long, and he stiffens before leaning in a little closer.]

Thirst is a strange thing. I think of cacti, first... but you'd think that they'd adapt leaves like funnels to catch the rain, instead of thorns, wouldn't you? Then again...

[He clinks his glass against Hector's, pausing to speak again before downing its contents.]

I suppose it just means they're discerning, rather than desperate.

Edited 2020-12-23 07:17 (UTC)

[It's a game Hector had little practice with before arriving through the mirror, but now he's come to enjoy it.]

Not much rain, where they come from. The needles are for protection. Some of the prickliest ones have the sweetest water inside.

[Or so Hector's heard say. He's never made it out into the desert wastes himself, just read about the flora in Dracula's library. But he's supposed to be flirting, not discussing the fascinating evolution of desert plants. ~~Nerds.~~

He rubs Linden's shoulder idly with his thumb, hoping to ease some of that tension he feels in the witch's frame.]

It can be worth quite a bit of effort to taste it.

[L watches carefully, noting how Hector takes his playful statement and parries it back. The cleverness, just a touch cheeky, might have been lost on the faun, but it's possible he's setting up something more.

Supporting that possibility is the physical contact. He leans closer, perhaps a bit too fiercely, indicating receptiveness. Sweet water could refer to other secretions. Semen is meant? L thinks it's at least a 74% chance that's what Hector is getting at, and those are safe odds. At least worth the risk.

Slightly less certain is what he properly remembers and relishes of these types of acts. The risk has, in fact, been significant.]

After a drought, such efforts wouldn't be in vain.

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