Danny Griffin

Danny Griffin

"mhmm," caidence nodded along, his tongue pushing against his bottom lip, as he looked at the other without a hint of belief behind the playfulness in his eyes. "right, you were just going to come find me and return it after you finished taking care of yourself. a modern hero and a saint."

holding onto the balled up fabric of his shirt, the harpie didn't steal it from the other's hands. no. he simply stood there, holding onto it, watching as the other continued to touch themself. this wasn't the first time he's come across a man using an article of his clothing as a means to an end but normally they had, at least, met him first.

"should i be flattered you were getting off to my shirt without even knowing it's mine or insulted?" he questioned with a teasing grin. "better yet-- would it ruin the mood for you, hero, if i offered you a hand?"

˙ ˖ ✶ Cadence

Izzy had been extremely pent up recently, finding it hard to keep his mind focused on anything other than the straying thoughts of another's body. The way he craved warmth, that feeling that could only be sated with another's touch. Nothing he did was enough, and it had been affecting his training, something his adoptive father had noted and teased him about.

So as he found himself in the bowels of red death, Izzy grabbed the nearest piece of discarded fabric, sensing the sexual energy that radiated off of it, his hands finding his own core as he kept himself busy visualizing the owner of said shirt.

"Sorry..." he gulped, slightly embarrassed, not fully stopping touching himself as the man spoke up. "Wasn't planning on taking it but you look much better without a shirt anyway, so I'd probably be doing the town a huge favor. Call me something of a modern hero."

location: masque of red death open to: open to anyone

draekov's info

he'd quickly lost track of time. making the most of those private rooms, fucking and feeding to his hearts desire, draekov had arrived as soon as the club had opened and by now he'd be surprised if it wasn't close to time for the masque to close. that was the gift, and burden, of having his unnatural stamina-- and that was his favorite thing about the masque. if he tired some one out or they couldn't keep up, there was always someone else waiting to give it a shot.

this one was new. patrick. michael. leviathan. ygritte-- whatever the fuck their name was. draekov had lured them into his room a rough thirty minutes ago and, well, after throwing each other around and making an absolute mess of the room (that he intended to let someone else clean up) the vampire found himself on the floor with the other-- billy. coleman. stephanie... whatever-- riding him; their hands squeezing into his ample chest as he bounced them on his length with demanding vigor.

slamming up into them with one hard, final thrust, the vampire erupted inside them as they simultaneously finished on his heaving chest.

"did you--" draekov questioned, a soft chuckle hanging on his breath as he looked up at the man still seated on him. "did you just scream thank you?"

@unveilstarters

eoghan would hardly consider himself religious. as far as he was concerned gods were no better than the rest of them. in fact, they were often worse. it was easier to just ignore them; they were hardly worth the attention they liked to demand... and yet despite his aversion to religion he often found himself at his most comfortable in the graveyards of christian churches; he found solace among the tombstones and statues that marked where they laid their dead.

slinking between a few tombstones to come around the side of a small, modest mausoleum, eoghan stepped through a hedge separating the graveyard from the church's gardens only to find himself caught a bit off guard as he came upon a man simply sitting there. was he thinking? talking to himself? taking a break from a morning run?

"i think i'm the one bothering you," he challenged with a loose smile as he took a step forward; his head craning to the side as he studied the other man. "you look like you have something on your mind. want me to fetch a priest for you?" the gorgon teased. "don't tell me you're praying."

Location: Blessed Hollows Grounds Open to: Anybody || @unveilstarters

Life after death had always seemed like some far off concept. Something magical, a big question for the universe to answer at the end. Leon hadn't anticipated the end hitting him in his twenties, or that it would just be some fancy new beginning wrapped up in one hell of a world view change. He'd hoped for things to be exciting still, but... Nothing really made sense, yet.

Maybe that was why he'd found himself gravitating to the church grounds. He wouldn't pretend religion had been a big part of his life growing up, but it had still painted a picture that clearly wasn't the most accurate depiction.

"Not botherin' ya, am I?" It's only when he became aware of the fact somebody had been sat next to him for a little longer than typical that he realized he'd been loitering for as long as he had. Did he look suspicious?

a visible wave of relief washed over the were as the door opened. it was still chained shut so he couldn't see casey fully but he was answering him and that was enough. all those undermining voices in the back of his head telling him the man wasn't going to see him were rightfully silenced. taking a deep breath, his posture softening and loosening to show that he was already comfortable around the other, the features of his face betrayed him and tightened as alston realized this was the first time he'd ever come around without a wounded animal in his arms; without needing help of some kind.

"everything's fine," he blurted out quickly, the words feeling rushed and uncertain as his lips pulled into a forced and uncomfortable smile. "well, i didn't bring anyone with me at least." things were hardly fine. his home had burned, so many had been lost, and he was on the run... but that was hardly a conversation to have on someone's doorstep after not seeing them for-- what had it been now, months? a year? why was it so hard for him to keep track of time.

"beer." alston stated plainly as he held up the six pack in his hand, followed by lifting the bottle of whiskey to show them to casey as if the man couldn't clearly see him holding them. "i came to offer you some beer, or some whiskey? i wasn't sure what you liked..."

"oh, and to let you know that i've relocated to live here in alexandria and say hello... so... hello?"

yeah. you're killing it alston. definitely not awkward at all.

As a chronic misanthrope, Casey lives on his own on the edge of town, away from the bustle and hustle. Some peace and quiet, that is all he wants in life, really. Though compared to other nigh-immortal creatures his kind doesn't live that long but still, Casey feels like he has lived long enough to act like a grumpy old man. And he doesn't need parties or going out so this place suits him.

Naturally, it's quite unusual someone knocks on his door. It is clearly stated on his 'no soliciting' sign at the gate... But Casey is unfortunately not callous and impolite enough to simply not answer the door. What if someone's car broke down or has medical emergency? Grumbling, he drags himself to the door. Instead of fully opening the door, he cracks it open with the chain on and checks outside. "...Alston?"

He hasn't seen the werebear in... how many years, or months? He can't even remember (his sense of time is all over the place, sort of). He closes the door to unchain, and greets his old... client? Acquaintance? Friend? He is not sure. "Hey, it's been a while. So where's the patient?" Out of habit his eyes turn to Alston's hands. Usually, Alston brings injured animals. Not seeing any blood, fur or feathers, he looks back up at the other's face. "Everything okay?"