Today is of the Cycle Of The Seventh Moon.
Current Season & Month:  , Year: 543 A.R. (ref)

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Duskhill - Estate Grounds & Surrounding Land

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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

A roar echoes through the cave, coming from somewhere that might be far off or far closer than expected.  It's always hard to tell when underground, sound distorting distance as it bounces off the stone ceiling and walls, echoing for miles.  What can be determined, is that the roar comes from something large, predatory, and angry...the after-echo holds a snarl that sounds vaguely Felinoid.

 

Spoiler
(OOC: Roar timing...)
The roar can come well after picnicking stuff - I just wanted to get it in there,  heh.

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Miiya

“Ooh! It’s a wonderful spot for our picnic, Mister TonDen!” Miiya exclaimed, unpacking some of the food she had brought. She nearly missed the golem’s leap into space. For a moment, she instinctively expected the construct of The Blue Ash to rise back up into the sky, until the distant splash of it striking the water reached her ears. “Ha!” Miiya walked to the edge of the cliff and peered down at The TonDen’s distant figure wending its way through the clear water.

When she turned back to the picnic, she froze, the happy expression fading from her features. 


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NoOne
(@noone)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 2 years ago
Posts: 642
 

Myrae


[OOC: snuck in from the Hidden Estate of Duskhill]

Despite the significant distance which The TonDen had carried, somehow Myrae was right there, literally eating Miiya’s lunch. “We need to talk.” The drowess said, around a mouthful of steamed bun.  

Oh, this was just awful. The birdbrain was as fifteen as fifteen could be. At least adults had the decency to mask their utter disdain for you, your words, the way you spoke those words, the air those words were carried across, and the vithing effort of bothering to try to pay down the imaginary debt yew apparently owed this little shu--just by existing in the dead-eyed glory of her presence. 

If this little pviten rolls her eyes one more time… Myrae took a deep breath, and let it out again. "Yer resilient. Not many Aeros would live through pinioning and being down in deephome." Kids responded to compliments, right? 

Apparently not this one, because Miiya's trite response made Myrae want to pull her hair out, and she wasn't exactly sure which her.

...

"Okay, I've said my piece." The drowess concluded. Why did it take soooo many excruciating--physically and mentally--words to tell this shu: you and yer pointy-eared boyfriend are going to die because yer stupid, but not because of me. "Take it or leave it." Myrae put a hand to her face and did not lower it, or make any indication she heard the screaming roar the echoed across the cavern. "...great."

Vithing Sunstealers now? Kill me.

 


[OOC: (eventually) to the Hidden Estate of Duskhill -- to wait for the TonDenbulance]


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Irihi
(@irihi)
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Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Miiya

The Aeros girl had never really dealt with someone she fundamentally disliked. Sure, there’d been creeps and jerks aplenty in the slums of Daelows, on the road with her brother, and even in the Lunar Redoubt. 

But I was an Aeros then, I could just fly off and not deal with their vreet. Now, though, she had to sit (stand really) through a yfretting lecture from this… person whom she fundamentally hated disliked. 

I don’t hate. 

I’m good. 

I’m doing right. 

She’s wrong!

Miiya stood their with fists balled or arms crossed, and--as often as not--eyes rolled. Irihi Spokelse, the crazy little waif of an Elf ghost is a worlde-eating monster? Yeah right. Miiya scoffed silently. My brother had the hots for her and even took her to a hafling party. And yew decided that I had to die rather than even talk to her, about saving him?  

At last, Miiya could take no more of the tripe spouting from the drowess.

How much time have you actually spent around Irihi?” Miiya interrupted. “Cuz Cah and I were with her for days! She didn’t eat our souls.” Miiya laughed scornfully. “She didn’t even threaten anybody! She saved Cah’s life! She was nice; a lot nicer than yew!” The Aeros girl snarled. 

Yew’ve got all this stuff, and it’s made yew afraid.” Miiya waved a hand back toward Duskhill. “Yew don’t even know people, but yew think yew have to kill them so they won’t take yer things.” She ranted “Yer strong, yew’ve got all these swords and knives, and armor… yew can fight good and yew’ve got magick and friends and loads of money!” She paused. 

I’ve got nothing. No clothes.” She plucked at the borrowed outfit. “No weapons. No money. No… friends.” She said, her self-righteous anger making her catalogue of woe a weapon rather than a wound. “I’m small. I break easy, and I can’t even fly away anymore.” She growled. “It’s scary. I’m scared almost all the time.”

But even with all that, I don’t--” She stammered haltingly, because--in truth--Miiya was not sure if she could take a life, “...I wouldn’t--I wouldn’t just kill people! Because I’m not a coward like yew!” 

I think.

Myrae did not look impressed. 

Well, what do I care? She’s mean and bad and a coward. She’s wrong! I’m right!

That’s why Tom didn’t kill me when he could, when she paid him to. We are better than her! 

Finished with her diatribe, Miiya’s already-flushed cheeks colored a little deeper. 

we

It was the first time she had thought of Tom that way. There had been only her mother and Cah in that category before. Ma had literally beaten the we into her. We against the society that hates us. With Cah it had been we two siblings secret behind Sen’s back, or we beating the other buskers at their game in the market, or we working as a unit in the travelling troupe.

Now Tom was a we? We against Myrae’s fear-driven cruelty? There were a lot of unformed we thoughts floating around when Miiya thought about the catboy, all of them distracting her from the nonplussed drowesss regarding her with her irritating trademark disdain.

Then something roared and Miiya looked past the glowering coalskin. Waaay past. All the way to the cavern’s far wall. “...Tom?”


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Irihi
(@irihi)
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Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Miiya

“MISTER TONDEN!” Miiya put all of her considerable lung power into the call. She had almost forgotten herself and launched from the clifftop, but a sharp twinge in her mangled wing had stopped her. She tried to focus on the fastest route the golem would have to take to reach Tom-Cat. She tried not to think about the scene, she had witnessed, which necessitated such haste. “Tom-Cat is hurt! He’s that way! Can yew carry me?!” She cried, not waiting for an answer as she lept and swung aboard the golem. 

“Quickly! Please go!” She wrapped her arms around The TonDen’s torso and whispered into the side of his blank nightmare face. “Hurry!”

To: The Caverns Surrounding Duskhill


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NoOne
(@noone)
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Joined: 2 years ago
Posts: 642
 

The TonDen

The TonDen had been enjoying another swim in the clear waters of the lake when Miiya’s distant and water-muffled cry reached it. Her summons was one of the buffered commands that the golem kept resident in the forefront of its mind and the crab-like creature was up the cliff and by the little Aeros’ side in seconds. It was some moments before its crystalline mind processed her plea, but her compulsions snapped straight past its logic gates and caused the creature of Blue Ash to charge into the fungal forest, following the impulses transmitted from where her skin touched its armored hide.

To: Same


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline

╺ ✽ ╸

“Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike.”

Oscar Wilde 


[OOC: from the Hidden Estate of Duskhill*

*links to Miiya's post that includes the beginning of the sparring session @the end of the post

 

 

Tom-Cat takes some time to unwind the bloody bandage from around his torso as Miiya launches into a series of rather energetic “warm-up” exercises reminiscent of a gymnast’s floor routine.  He checks his injury and lightly skims the tips of his fingers across the healing lacerations in his side that form the distinctive, scored-mark pattern created by the hooked teeth of a Sun Stealer’s tentacle.  As far as he can tell, the poison hasn’t done any lasting damage to the surrounding flesh.  It should be fully healed within another day or two, and the slate has already been wiped clean of the motley assortment of bruises and superficial scratches that’d decorated  his skin.  With any luck the only scars he’ll take away from the encounter are the ones on his memory.

The catboy wads up the dirty bandages and tosses them to the side and turns and watches the Aeros, well, show off for –  assumes – him. He can’t say that he doesn’t appreciate her nimbleness and confidence as she performs handsprings and flips (amongst other things) with the ease of a born tumbler.  He grins, but then has to tamp down the sudden urge to pounce as a deluge of something that feels dangerously warm and affectionate rushes  through him.  He twitches, his skin tight, and he clenches his jaw as he feels words surge up his throat.  He lets them break against the dam of his teeth.  He looks away for a second, ruthlessly dampening the flow of his emotions that seep through the bond like he’s got a crack in his chassis.  

There’s no hint of what he’d felt – feels – in his expression when Tom-Cat turns back and settles his gaze on Miiya, once again.  There’s only the vague and ever-present hint of something wild and predatory in the glint of his yellow eyes, and amusement pressed into the full curve of his teasing grin.  When she pauses for a moment and looks at him, he compliments her.   “You’rrre verrry sprrry, Teleskela – you must have a good teacherrr,” he says, meaning it.  “I wouldn’t have guessed Qoo’Tal to be so acrrrobatic.” His purring voice is colored with genuine interest.  He doesn’t offer anything further and turns away with a flick of his tail, keeping her in the corner of his vision as he proceeds to do some warming up exercises.

Tom-Cat proceeds to move through an impromptu “limbering up” routine a short distance from Miiya, that started with a lot of unnecessary stretching.   It’s pure performance, if he’s being honest; the suffusion of heat throughout his body from his inner core keeps his muscles supple and warm.  After thoroughly stretching, Tom-Cat moves through the next phase of his “routine”.  He pays no mind that he’s in the midst of a grassy field in just his undershorts as he moves through a series of lunges, squats, back limbers, and kickovers, with absolutely zero inhibitions.  (At this point it’s questionable if he even notices his varying states of undress.  Probably not.  When added up, the total amount of time the catboy has actually worn pants is a little under 24-hours, and has only managed to keep on a shirt for even less time.)

He’s moved on to a series of yoga poses he learned from Cheshire, and is holding himself in a Dragonfly pose, when from the corner of his eye he sees Miiya get tangled up in her too-loose blouse, as she performs a one-handed, wings-extended handstand.  He turns his head as she flops over, stifling his impulse to snicker at her.  He carefully unfolds from the pose he’s holding and rolls to his feet, just as Miiya swears and strips off the blouse.

Tom-Cat instantly has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making an offhand comment in response to the furious blush and sudden awkwardness that seems to sweep over Miiya when she fully realizes what she’s just done.  Somehow he doesn’t think saying: Well, therrre’s no rrreason to be embrrrassed, Teleskela.  I mean, I’ve alrrready seen those sad grrranny panties that you call underrrwearrr.  You know, when you werrre dying in the Ice Caves? What’s up with that, anyway?’ will do much to help him, her, or the situation.  He coughs to cover a snicker, glancing away for a sec, when without warning, Miiya attacks.

He catches the explosion of movement at the edge of his vision and hears her move at the same time, but it’s his feline hindbrain, that animal sixth sense, that really warns him.  He decides to dodge her initial assault, wanting to observe how she approaches a “fight” before he employs any kind of counter.  He slips under her palm strike and around her guard, but only takes a step back to put some space between them instead of exploiting the opening.  

Tom-Cat brings up his guard.  He assumes a stance with his dominant leg a half-step behind his leading leg, and forearms raised to protect his head like a boxer.  Unlike a boxer, instead of fists he leads with his hands relaxed and palms turned out, the stance allowing for lightning quick strikes, grabs, and grapples, as well as devastating kicks and fast switch-ups.  There’s a marked change in his demeanor, his body loose yet ready to move any direction.  He’s serious but still playful, his kohl-rimmed gaze bright with focused intensity. 

He never takes his eyes off Miiya as she presses the attack.  In contrast to the very aerial and acrobatic spinning kicks, butterfly kicks, and flying palm strikes she utilizes as she tries to penetrate his guard, Tom-Cat actually moves very little.  He doesn’t do more than needed to evade her strikes. He twists, leans, drops, steps, or turns as much as is required to dodge her attacks.  As she maintains pressure, they move in a generally circular pattern as he continually steps around her guard to maintain the distance he needs to evade.

It doesn’t take long for Tom-Cat to realize that she would not last long in a real fight.  Period.  And that worries him, because he knows that he can’t always be there in time or at all, to keep her safe from harm.  She needs to know how to protect herself or at least defend herself meaningfully until she can either run, wait for assistance, or barring that, finish it.  He’d prefer the latter.  

He can tell that she’s getting a little annoyed that he’s only evaded thus far.  She telegraphs her attacks in the twist of her hips and the  dip of her shoulders.  Miiya comes at him with a spin kick that flows into a palm strike.  Tom-Cat steps into the orbit of the kick, rotates with her, and pushes away her strike with his forearm, redirecting her momentum.  She stumbles a step past him, and recovers quickly.  She spins back to face him.  She attacks – snap kick.  Nice.   He catches it and tugs, sending her off-balance.

 

This time he takes them to the ground.

 

He grabs her shoulders and pulls her with him as he falls onto his back.  He keeps her in a leg hold, knees pressed tight against her ribs under her arms, his ankles locked behind her shoulder blades.  He pulls her forward and locks down her arm, his own thread through hers, immobilizing it.  Their positions are…cozy, but Tom-Cat uses their closeness to his advantage.  He smiles, seeking to reassure.  “Verrry nice, Teleskela!” he exclaims.  “Yourrr endurrrance is imprrressive – Most people can't last morrre than five minutes.”  He held her gaze with his own.  “You’rrre verrry skillful in yourrr chosen marrrtial arrrt,” he says with the utmost sincerity. “And I can see the bones of something therrre that can be verrrsatile,” he pauses and takes a breath.  “With a little tweaking.  Will you let me show you a few things, Teleskela?” he asks.  “Just a few adjustments on some of the kicks and strrrikes…” he trails off.  Suddenly, he brightens.  “We can prrractice some grrrapples firrrst.”  Tom-Cat leans up a bit, bringing his face closer.  He grins and says, “I’ll show you how to brrreak this hold…and then you can trrry to lock me down.

 


Spoiler
Tom-Cat's Dragonfly Pose
Dragonfly Pose Video

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Pioloss and Irihi liked
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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Miiya

[OOC: from the Hidden Estate of Duskhill]

She was having the time of her life. First the wake-up, then breakfast and Picnic, and now this!? Tom-Cat was wearing almost the right amount of clothing and, holy kvek, was he ever fun to ogle stare at watch with not very surreptitious glances. While he moved that body in all those very interesting ways Miiya just always sorta happened to be facing him and not paying particular attention to her own forms. It was sorta the same deal when she engaged with him. The Aeros girl was kinda running on autopilot, the majority of her mind not fully engaged in the sparring session. 

That changed when he so casually avoided her attacks, expending a minimum of energy to deflect and redirect her kicks and strikes. She focused a bit better, because sparring was fun and she did want to see if she could--if not get past his guard--at least make him work for it. Miiya was burning stamina like she had gallons of it to spare, because she did. Sure she was panting, she felt the beginnings of the lactic acid build up in her major muscles, but she was an aviator. She had overflown oceans. She could do this for hours. “Getting tired?” She panted with a grin as she made him dodge a snap-kick a little faster than his typical casual movements. “Think I could wear yew down?” She suggested, this time in all seriousness as she dropped to her hands and tried to sweep him. 

Miiya wasn’t dancing. That she could not keep up for long. She was not sure she could Storm Dance at the moment, she was too happy. She’d only danced under pretty extreme duress up until now. She knew she was a Storm Dancer but was not quite sure how to switch it on at will. Besides, Storm Dancing did not make her more skilled, just a bit faster and much much harder-hitting. She had a feeling, from how much Tom-Cat seemed to be holding back, that it would not make much difference in leveling the very uneven playing field of their comparative abilities.

When Tom-Cat abruptly switched to grappling, Miiya went down with an “Eep!” of surprise. He was saying stuff to her but she might not have been paying the very mostest closest attention to his… words… because the Aeros girl considered her day pretty much made at that point. “Um… okay.” Was the conversational gem she dredged up from her rather fritzed mind. When Tom-Cat let her go she took a moment to turn around as she stood back up so she could ostensibly hide the face-squinching silent YAS! that practically unhinged her jaw. 

Miiya did settle down a bit after that, and eventually she even started paying attention to what Tom-Cat was trying to teach her. Miiya was a quick study. For her weight she was quite strong and very agile, and Tom-Cat’s encouraging words restored her glow whenever it flagged due to a misstep, mistake, or--more often, when she forgot herself and tried to use her wings to gain leverage. 

Ugh! I was a LOT better than this when I could fly!” Miiya said for the third-or-fourth time, as she found herself pinned after trying to climb air to reverse a hold Tom-Cat had put her in. “Can yew let go a sec?” She gasped as a sharp pain shot through her injured wing. Standing, she took a moment to bind it before resuming their practice.    

As talented as she was, Miiya was still an Aeros. She was exceptionally light, even compared to the relatively slim catboy. A few of Tom-Cat’s modified grapples, takedowns, and even dodges and redirections simply were impossible or unworkable for his pupil. At times, Tom-Cat might feel as if he were fighting a ferret or other small animal that he could lift with a single arm or bull over no matter how perfect Miiya’s base and holds were. Miiya gamely adjusted her thinking as the catboy directed; Be slippery. Always be aware which way your opponent’s joints can’t bend and exploit that. Hit-and-run. Finish the fight quickly; don’t give them a chance to lock yew down. 

The last lesson proved problematic. When she wasn’t dancing, Miiya’s strikes were, at best, painful, but rarely damaging, and almost certainly not powerful enough to knock an opponent out of the fight. 

While she was reluctant to move on to training that didn’t involve all the handsyness of the late morning, Miiya said she was game for a little practice with weapons. “But let’s break for lunch, first!”

While Tom-Cat scrounged up blades and staves from around Duskhill, Miiya retired to the kitchen to warm up and supplement what was left of breakfast. She much preferred this to having to ask the irascible Myrae about her armory. The Aeros girl flitted about the ridiculously convenient kitchen humming a catchy tune that was a real crowd-pleaser when she and Cahron put on musical acts. She would have sung the words, but most of the time her mouth was full from sampling/half-devouring the dishes she assembled. Gods but this was turning out to be a great day! As she cooked another enormous meal her thoughts were all over the place. She couldn’t decide whether to reminisce about Tom’s stretching, his grapples, his steady confident touches as he adjusted her own positioning and posture. She didn’t even mind that he had gone off to talk to the old goat, though she hoped he’d return sooner rather than later…

Being an Aeros meant Miiya metabolized her food almost as fast as she consumed it, even though she put down a pretty prodigious amount of sustenance. “Nope! Ready to go!” She chirped when Tom-Cat asked her if she needed a little time to let her meal settle. She had noticed a dull ache in her injured wing while she’d cooked and eaten, but she ignored it, leaving the appendage bound up for the afternoon practice.

Miiya seemed rather less ready than she indicated when faced with the assorted bladed, hooked, and bashing weapons Tom-Cat had collected. Sensing her unease, Tom-Cat eased them into weaponsplay with an hour or so of technical work against nothing but air. Miiya demonstrated a reasonable aptitude at handling most types of weapon… in theory and practice against imaginary targets.. 

Uh…” She temporized, when he told her it was time to spar again. “...are yew sure about this? I don’t want to hurt yew.” Or get cut. She thought to herself, selecting a quarterstaff that looked like the least-lethal option among those presented to her. “Okay, let’s do it, I guess.”

Despite the range of the weapon, Miiya found herself quickly disarmed time and time again by the unarmed catboy, even when she followed his advice and really tried to land a damaging or disabling blow. “Look, it wouldn’t matter, you’re better than me whether I use knives or this." She said, at last, in frustration, when he suggested an edged weapon that would be harder to turn aside bare-handed.

“Okay, show me what happens when you fight someone who isn’t better than you.” Tom-Cat replied.

“I don’t want you to go easy on me…” Miiya began.

Tom-Cat pulled a face. “Don’t take this the wrrrong way, but if I don’t go easy on yew, yerrr not going to learrrn anything.” He raised his hands as Miiya frowned and started to retort. “Yerrr a good fighterrr. Yerrr better than most of yerrr enemies will expect, but yerrr not betterrr than a professional.” He tried to soften his critique with a smile. “So let me be someone who is just a little worse than you, okay?" He picked up a pair of knives. “Don’t worrrry, I won’t use these on yew.”

Miiya looked nonplussed, but she nodded and they started again. This time the Aeros girl managed to disarm Tom-Cat and land a couple of hits that let her slip in and lock up the catboy, threatening to cut off his windpipe with the staff.

“Good job. Now what?” Tom-Cat wheezed.

Miiya hesitated. “Now… I…"

Tom-Cat slipped her choke hold and tripped her, rolling and retrieving his blades. “Now, yerrr dead.” He dropped the knives and walked back to where Miiya was rising. “Trrry again.”

This time, a little annoyed, Miiya squeezed the catboy’s windpipe and got an elbow in her side for her trouble. Again, he escaped and retrieved his knives. The third time, angry now, she locked him up better and squeezed tightly. Tom-Cat gently headbutted her abused nose, careful to put just enough into it to break her grip, but not enough for a repeat of the morning’s gusher.

“Teleskela, yew need to be able to finish the fight. Not everrryone is going to be deterred by a bump on the head, a bruised thrrroat, or even a brrroken arm.” Tom-Cat said gently, wondering if he might have pressed the point too far. “Yew need a plan to win a fight. Everrry fight.” He set down his blades, hesitated, then decided to press on anyway, reaching for Miiya’s hands. “Yew have to be able to prrrotect yourself. I won’t be… I need yew to…” Suddenly the catboy found himself at a loss for words.

There were tears in Miiya’s eyes, though it was hard to tell if they were from the bump on the nose or anger. She was pretty incensed, but not so much that she couldn’t reason with her catboy instructor. “Tom, my plan is to not fight. I’ll just f--” She paled, realizing what it was she had been thinking, what she had been about to say

I’ll just fly away

Except I can’t, anymore

A moment later pallor was replaced with a deep flush as Tom-Cat took her hands and confessed his--well, he didn’t really say anything much. Even so, Miiya found she couldn’t look up for some reason. She just stared at her small, now very very red, hands in his calloused palms.

Miiya was tired. Her nose hurt again and the ache in her bound wing was intensifying. If she’d been on a more even keel, she would have suggested a break, a chance to cool off, a little recovery time. But this really cute boy was holding her hands and she was about to cry because the idea of not being able to fly was landing much heavier on her than it had this morning, and he still wasn’t wearing hardly anything but he was a dangerous killer and he wanted her to stab people and she wasn’t sure if she could and now she was getting shooting pains in her ugly chopped-off wing… the Aeros girl pulled her hands away with a groan. “...fly away.” She completed the thought with a quavery voice. This time she turned away to hide weakness instead of delight. She yanked at the binding and released her injured wing. “This is really hurting me.” She said, loading a lot of different meanings into the phrase, without really intending to do so. 

Back still turned to Tom-Cat, Miiya took a deep breath and extended the wing fully, trying to relieve the aching. I’m okay. I’m having a lot of fun! Even if…

Wait…

That’s not right... 

Miiya brought her injured wing forward. She hadn't really looked at it after the ice cave. She didn't like to look at it. A lot of bad things were under those bandages. If she kept it folded then she could sometimes forget--

But now she was looking, and… "Oh, Tseert!" 

It was gone. At the mangled tip there was one broken pinfeather and one empty socket. 

No way! 

That was a nightmare!

It didn't really happen! I didn’t really do that, right?

It's gone!

It's not gone. Yew threw it at him. A little sing-songy voice in her head taunted.

"Give me back my feather." Miiya's transition from being a little wobbly after the weaponwork to overly-serious could easily be mistaken as just a part of her banter, or a bit of bleary hyperbole. But it wasn't. "Right. Now."


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline

╺ ✽ ╸

“Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike.”

Oscar Wilde

 

All Tom-Cat wants is to keep Miiya from ever experiencing what he has.  All he wants is to keep her from that sort of pain.  He would do – will do – everything in his power to ensure that she never experiences something like that.  Nobody should have to.  And if he ever finds out that she has been hurt like that…  Let’s put it this way: Although Tom-Cat has a reputation for straightforward kills that are exceptionally quick, clean, and quiet, it’s his true specialization for devising the types of planned revenge that forever leave psychic scars on the spaces in which they’re carried out, that he will bring to bear against her transgressors.

Nobody deserves to carry the sort of wound that kind of hurt conveys. 

As he continues to slip her holds and press his point about using more lethal weaponry, he sees an echo of the judgment she’d cast upon him, days prior. (Scum)  On this very same cliff, upon which they’ve been sparring.  Jookan figures.  Her refusal to wield anything more lethal than the quarterstaff and her specific dislike of knives and his blades, speaks to a deep-seated aversion that feels weirdly personal.  Is it?  Maybe it’s stupid, but the condemnation she’s been unconciously telegraphing through the bond all afternoon, feels more like a subtle condemnation on him, rather than a rebuke of bladed weapons.  (Monster)  It piques him slightly, though there’s no real heat behind it; his spirits are too high and so far the day’s been pretty…exciting.  It’s difficult for anger (real anger) to take root.  

Frustration, however, is a whole other story.

Tom-Cat’s frustration is part disappointment and part annoyance, bolstered by the ever-present undercurrent of Miiya’s desiderium through the bond.  (The healing felinoid is admittedly a little tired, which — maybe – also feeds a little into his frustration.)  Either way, he’s disappointed by Miiya’s opposition to even the suggestion of wielding more lethal weaponry, and agitated by her rejection of his continued attempts to prepare her to ‘finish a fight’.  Keh, he’s bothered less by his own apparent ineptitude as a teacher, and more by his inability to convey (in words) why he wants needs her to know how to protect herself.  Why, he needs her to be safe.  Why, it’s so important to him that she can finish a fight, if he’s not there.  

The tip of his tail lashes in surprise when he realizes that, despite his frustration, he’s the most at ease, pleased, and happy sparring with her in the middle of a mossy field in the Underneath, than he’s been in awhile.  It has been a good day (so far).  He is having fun.  Is it because of he–  

–the sudden spike of grief reflected through the bond, the sudden wet shine of Miiya’s eyes, and her choked off assertion of,  Tom, my plan is to not fight. I’ll just f--hits him like a throat punch. Whatever he was thinking about is discarded as he focuses his attention on the Aeros.  His throat’s tight, his thoughts are racing; his chest feels constricted by the anaconda grip of the  Sun Stealer’s tentacle as his ribs cave in, crushed beneath the enormity of everything he’s suddenly feeling.  Of everything he wants to say but can’t force past the collapsed tunnel of his throat .

 

And yet…

 

Tom-Cat yields to impulse and reaches out, folding Miiya’s hands within his own.   He looks down and amusement and wonder sparks through him when he sees that his hands completely envelop hers.  Her hands fit within his own like red-stained nesting dolls, and the brush of her soft, slender fingers feels nice  pressed into the leather roughness of his palms.  Say something.   His ears twitch as his sinuous, furry tail absently curls over her waist like a cat-tail belt.  The catboy raises his lambent, yellow-eyed gaze and studies Miiya’s downturned face.  Say anything.  He can’t bring up the words, but they’re there, pressing against the back of his teeth and lingering under his tongue.  He doesn’t know–...how is he suppos–...he’s never felt –Kwesh!

It’s all so new and daunting and unknown and, and, and.  And he wants…

 

…to say: ‘I’m worrried about you, Teleskela.  I’m herrre forrr you.

 

And:  ‘I can’t fall asleep by otherrr people – except forrr you.  And it’s the best rrrest I’ve had in months.’ 

 

And:  Since you’ve been arrround, I smile morrre than I used to.

 

And:  ‘Teleskela….I’m glad we met.

 

The wrought iron of Tom-Cat’s words remain unsmelted in the channels of his mind and stays unsaid.   The thought of giving voice to his thoughts, of hammering out the shape of his words against the anvil of his tongue, is utterly terrifying.  He can’t, he can’t say it out loud, because he means every part of what he can’t–won’tcan’t say, with almost heart-stopping sincerity.  The affection and emotion implied by his wordless sentiments are too honest, too real; it comes too close to that anxiously guarded, exposed, raw nerve of vulnerability within him.

The silence between them grows heavy with the unspoken as the Tom-Cat unwittingly pushes everythinghis unspoken words, the emotional sentiment, his sincerity, fear, vulnerability, frustration – through the bond in a rush of warmth and an unguarded flow of feelings.

When Miiya pulls her hands back and turns away, Tom-Cat lets her go without protest.  He watches her shoulders quiver briefly, then turns away, both to give her a little privacy to gather herself and also to give himself a moment to try and put a damper on his racing thoughts and churning emotions.  In a rare instance, the catboy is a bit too preoccupied to really catch Miiya’s words about the pain in her wing.  He briefly swivels an ear in her direction when she extends the feathered appendage, but doesn’t really take in what she says.  He needs to get back onto a more even-keel, needs to regain his equilibrium and land back on his proverbial feet.  The felinoid hates being off-balance, hates the twitchy and volatile, electric current sense that skips up his spine and leaves hyperexcitement pressed between the divots.

 

Give me back my feather. 

 He doesn’t look up right away, just heedlessly turns his ear towards her.   His tail is held low and relaxed behind him, the tip crooked into the curve of a question mark; the tip unfurls into a quick and flippant flick, before curling back.

Right. Now.” 

 

Miiya’s inexplicable anger is like a bolt from the blue and it causes such violent tonal whiplash, that Tom-Cat needs a neck brace and an appointment with a Shaarn chiropractor.

 Tonal dissonance aside, the dramatic volte-face between the faint, trembling lachrymose of Miiya’s previous words, and the abrupt, no-nonsense, gravitas in her voice as she demands her feather, puts his back up with a quickness.  It’s been mentioned before that Tom-Cat is not the most charitable person, even on a good day.   This time, however, it had been a good day – well, for the most part; present circumstances, notwithstanding.  All it really means is that he’s shrugged off most of his cattiness by the time he turns and pins the Aeros with the crescent yellow glow of his half-lidded gaze.  The assassin coolly studies her outward appearance, while inwardly he reaches out towards the shape of the bond and probes it with growing confidence.  He can’t really suss out the tangled knot through the bond and can only pick-up vague impressions from the seething mass.   …anxiet–confu–ange–sad–pain…Panic!(?)...  

Keh, he understands the muted sense of pain, sadness, and possible anger.  What he doesn’t get is the clear feeling of Panic that wrapped around every other emotion.  Tom-Cat looks away from Miiya, shaking off all traces of genuine spite and viciousness from his response to the Aeros’ unexplained turnabout and off-centre demand.  He doesn’t want to actually hurt her with words or otherwise.  Sometimes the catling’s vicious, vindictive, and merciless, but he’s not unnecessarily cruel.  Sure, he's somewhat annoyed, still frustrated, and a little tired; he still needs her to understand why he’s pushed her so hard on the idea of ‘finishing the fight’.  

Tom-Cat turns and refocuses on Miiya, looking her over.  Despite the stubborn set of her jaw and her wide, aggressive stance, she seems tired and it’s obvious that her maimed wing is causing her discomfort.  He pauses.  Maybe her unexpected demand that he return her tipsu (feather) is spurred on by her fatigue and pain…and every other compounded trauma that’s been piling up since Kiana.  Tom-Cat closely studies the Aeros’ carved, stony-faced, veneer, his gaze briefly sketching over the grim line of her tightly pressed lips.  For some reason, the visual incongruity of Miiya’s grave and unsmiling, life-and-death expression compared to her usual bright-eyed and bushy-tailed demeanor, sends a flash of savage amusement winding through him. 

The catboy imagines her saying: “this-is-100%-serious-and-is-no-laughing-matter-arfline!” in her normally chipper tone, but with her current and humorless, stony-faced gravitas, and he can’t help the grin that splits his face.  He blinks slowly at her as his mouth curves into a wide-mouthed, decidedly sardonic, grin.  The points are sharp; there’s something impetuous and teasing smudged into the corners of his mouth like smeared lipstick.  The tip of his tail flickers rapidly, back and forth.

 I’m hurrrt, Teleskela,” says Tom-Cat.  He doesn’t sound hurt in the least. Yellow eyes catch and hold Miiya’s gaze.  “I thought you gave me yourrr tipsu as a special patleck – a gift – forrr me,” he continued in a sharp, slightly mocking tone.  His grin widens.  “I thought perrrhaps you gave me yourrr featherrr  because you so adorrre me.”  He let the statement hang in the air. .

Tom-Cat suddenly prowls over to Miiya, never breaking eye contact.  He appears unworried, the easy slouch of his body relaxed, but there’s a curious, thrumming tension in the set of his shoulders.  The assassin pushes into the Aeros’ personal space and leans down, bringing their gazes level.  Their faces are close.  Tom-Cat’s features settle into an expression that momentarily matches Miiya’s serious demeanor.  “Tell me why you want it back.”  It’s not a question.  His grin is gone.  “Tell me why it’s suddenly so imporrrtant forrr you to get back yourrr tipsu – yourrr featherrr – frrom me.”  He pauses for a moment, then goes on.  “Tell me, Teleskela – I want to hearrr you say it: Why do you want yourrr tipsu, back?” He supplements the question with a raised brow.  “If you tell me why you need yourrr featherrr that badly,he begins, “then I will give it back to you, frrreely.”  Tom-Cat leans in, his mouth curved into a sharp, sleek smile.  “Otherrrwise, you’rrre going to have to earrrn it, Teleskela, by getting good enough to disarrrm me.”  It’s obvious that he’s purposefully tweaking her, although there’s an edge to the catling’s teasing purr that is all seriousness. 

He stays there, locked into orbit with her, their heads bent close when Miiya unconsciously mirrors his body language.  He waits.  Kohl-rimmed, yellow eyes have a soft luster as he traces his gaze over her face.  He’s only met by a defiant, undemonstrative, expression.  Annoyance shifts through him, but the assassin doesn’t offer any word or comment; he just straightens and turns away.  Kwesh!  He flicks his soft-furred tail in her face, and walks off. 

Tom-Cat doesn’t get far.   

He’s only walked off about five-or-so feet, when he’s attacked.  

It’s Miiya. 

The tension has been unpinned from his spine.  It has a visible knock-on effect as the tautness unwinds from his shoulders and continues, unclenching the tightness of his muscles all down the line of his spine until his body feels light, loose, and pliable. 

It’s obvious he’s not expecting an attack. 

Not ready doesn’t mean unable to respond.  It means he reacts on instinct.  It means automatic muscle memory.  It means his brain bypasses the ego, the superego, straight to the Id.  It means his training takes hold before conscious thought.  It means he’s no longer sparring.  It means he reacts to it like a real threat.

It means what happens is almost an inevitability.

Tom-Cat's a nasty  bare-knuckle brawler.  He's as easy to grab as mercury is to hold in sweaty palms during a heat wave; he's constantly inside your guard.  His jabs are quicker than a hiccup, yet surgically precise; he will always find a way to viciously drive his fist into your kidneys or liver.  Call out a "signature move" if you want–it finishes the fight.

Miiya’s attack is unexpected.

She’s furious.

She doesn’t hold back.

And her emotions make her just sloppy enough to trigger something instinctive in him: he reacts like he would in the midst of a street fight. 

Tom-Cat is fast–period Before his mind catches up he's slipped her blows and is already inside her guard. And at that point it's already over; he steps in and uncoils a fist in a brutal kidney punch.

An electric signal screams up his spine, his brain, bypasses all other signals, supersedes action:

 

STOP.

 

The effect is immediate. 

Like that morning, Tom-Cat seizes up and tries to pull his punch.  It’s too late.  He can't pull it back entirely; it will land.  With a wrenching twist, Tom-Cat is able to at least redirect the hit away from Miiya's kidneys and turns aside the majority of the blow at the last second. 

It still connects with debilitating force. 

Tom-Cat’s fist clips the edge of her sternum in a glancing blow, as his knuckles slam into her lower ribs with a solid THWACK!  

He winces. 

Although he was able to pull his punch, it was still much harder than if they’d been sparring--especially against her.  It wasn’t a direct hit, so nothing should be broken, at least. 

Tom-Cat is immediately apologetic.  His tail drops to curl around his calf, and his ears lower as he reaches for her. “Teleskela,he begins, but it doesn’t matter.  Miiya rips her arm free of his grasp and storms away.  

He doesn’t follow her.  He almost physically has to stop himself, but he manages to hold back and gives her space.

 Jookan hell, I rrreally want to go kill something,’ he thinks.  With a sigh, Tom-Cat gathers up their sparring weapons and slowly goes to return them to the armory.

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi liked
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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Miiya

He didn’t understand, couldn’t see, and didn’t know. 

He did not understand how afraid and just a tiny bit thrilled she was. What she had done was so deliciously wrong. It was penultimate taboo. 

He could not see the difference between Miiya’s childish petulance and big grown-up monstrous fear of doing wrong, having done wrong. That there was actually almost no difference between the two headspaces was something she would not come to grasp anytime soon. 

He did not know because if he had, he would never touch her wings without asking, he would never say those things, never make light of asking what it meant. He would have never accepted her brutally ripped-out tipsu; not like that.

He is just like every other grounder. 

Tom-Cat asked a question that Miiya could not have answered even if she wanted to. Did he really not know? Was his turn of phrase just an unhappy accident, for the words Tom-Cat said: “special patlek” “so adore me” were like hammer blows to the overwrought girl.

Tom-Cat could be an intense experience, especially for someone who could count on her fingers the number of people she knew well in the worlde. Miiya had reveled in that intensity all morning; in the teasing, the subtle suggestivity in his voice, movements, touches. It was fun, exciting, a rich flood for the senses like dark cocoa cheescake after a life of plain rice. But the Aeros girl was finding that the thrilling sensuality of the assassin could quickly become too much for her. When that happened she did not know what to do, so she shut down; retreated to her childish citadel, closing off or ignoring the impulses from the link she did not even know he had established with her.

Miiya was there now, withdrawn and hard as a cherry stone. Tom-Cat’s teasing suggestions all landed wrong. Words meant to defuse and delight only froze Miiya’s cold core ever sharper.  

I’ll never tell yew. I did not give my tipsu to yew. Yew stole it, yew murdering monster. For just an instant, Miiya gave rein to a petulant and malicious whimsy. Let him find out the hard way. Tseert! that is not me! Tom is my friend. I have to save him! Even if it means telling--FRETT NO! 

Miiya was still trying to wrest her own emotions back under control when Tom-Cat turned away as dismissively as if he was not about to be killed at a moment’s notice.

Because if Miiya was stupidly sure of anything, it was that the stories shared by her peers in the Lunar Redoubt were absolute truth, and not just the invention of a caustic stew of immature hormones, rumor, and supposition mixed with a bit of thoughtless and quickly-forgotten cruelty toward the unwitting outsider

She might think she’s some fancy arflet from Daelows, but she’ll believe anything.

While there is some truth in the rending of the archaic custom, and the Aeros law has found convenient use in killing plenty of inconvenient souls, Tom-Cat is not the hairsbreadth away from dying at the hands of windborne assassins, that Miiya thinks he is.

Too bad there was no one around to disabuse her of the notion before she jumped Tom, trying to save his life.

Miiya did not even know why she attacked Tom-Cat. Or, more accurately, as she staggered away, one arm wrapped around bruised ribs and rattled internals, she did not remember what kind of plan started with her ill-fated assault on the assassin. Bring him down and search him for her tipsu? It was not like there were many places on his person where he could have hid it.

The Aeros girl was not injured, but she was hurt. While they had sparred, Miiya could feel the restrained power thrumming through the catboy. This time she felt it unrestrained. Even turned aside and glancing, the blow had lifted her from her feet and rearranged her insides a bit. It was exactly what Tom-Cat had been trying to teach her to deliver, to others, and avoid, herself, all day. The strike had drained her of fight, and she was trying very hard to show that it had not robbed her of the ability to keep her feet as well. It was a good thing she could move anerobically for quite some time, thanks to her oxygen-rich blood, because drawing a breath from her shocked solar plexus was currently out of the question. Head down, face turned from Tom-Cat, Miiya pulled away from him, fleeing into Duskhill, fighting off the pain enough to keep a bent hunchback shuffle out of her retreat.

 

[OOC: to Duskhill - A Furnished Guestroom]


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NoOne
(@noone)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 2 years ago
Posts: 642
 

Myrae

Despite herself, after Tom-Cat had come sniffing around for weaponry, the drowess had decided to go watch the children after she ate their lunch. In the end, she found herself delighted at that decision. “Smooth move, Lover-boy. Nothing says "I love yew" like pissing blood.” She laughed from the recliner she was occupying on the patio.

The drowess stood and sauntered over to Tom-Cat. “Some clown portaled into the cavern yew cleared. Yew wanna go check it out for me?” Myrae wanted to know of the catboy. “Yew can see if Picnic wants to go along… if yew think yew need backup.” Somehow Myrae made even the most benign turn of phrase sound insulting, even with her voice unable to rise beyond a ghost of a whisper. 

If Tom-Cat were to ask what he stood to gain from doing more of the spy’s dirty work, Myrae would shrug and roll her eyes. “Ughh. I can go talk to yer little shu, for yew,” A single tooth showed in her smile. “since yew clearly have no idea. Yew can go murder the interlopers and see if they’ve got anything worth taking.” She sighed. “Believe me, yer getting the better end of the deal, boyo.”

Whether Tom-Cat took her up on her offer, Myrae would head inside. Since she had decided not to have Miiya killed, she figured she was somewhat obligated not to let it happen by accident. Myrae had worked quite a number of jobs for the heads of the Aeros clans over the years. Observing Miiya's and Tom-Cat’s interactions had given her a pretty good read on just what was going on between them. As fun as it was to watch the kids beat each other to a pulp over this particular misunderstanding, Myrae had the foresight to realize that letting a bit of teen drama get out of hand was likely to come back to bite her in the rear sooner or later. 


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline

╺ ✽ ╸

“The reason cats climb is so that they can look down on almost every other animal – it's also the reason they hate birds.”

 – K.C. Buffington


 

Kwesh, you’rrre like a bad Terrrajin copperrr,” he says when Myrae saunters up.  He draws back his lips in a not-grin* and leers at her, just to be a bit of an upuch.  “You’rrre like my brrrotherrr, Chatte.”  The catling’s tone implies that he does not intend his statement to be a compliment.  “He always (somehow) just 'turrrns up'  at the most inopporrrtune times, like some kind of jooked-up fairrry God-cat in jookan leatherrr pants, rrready to comment on yourrr dumbest moments.”  

He doesn’t mention that Chatte probably has an unbelievable amount of blackmail on all of them - his own siblings - the sneaky kar.  

As the voluptuous Drowess cracks her opening remark. Tom-Cat resolves to maintain a level of stoicism that is not natural to the capricious catboy.   He tries– sorta. He tells himself that he’s not going to sigh.  That he’s not going to roll his eyes.  That he’s not going to– Q’ifsh, she is such a 'Grade A' skwich.

The assassin ponders granting Myrae the up close and personal experience of the ”joy” of pissing blood, before he remembers that he does owe her for tending to his wounds.  He sighsucks a sharp breath through clenched teeth.  Still, the more Myrae says, the more he gives real thought as to whether or not he wants to jab her in the kidneys or liver.  Hmm, solar plexus?  No. He rejects that almost immediately– too much padding. Not that he’s complaining.  For all that she’s a magnificent skwich, Tom-Cat actually likes Myrae, and not because her figure could probably get a cadaver’s  bonblood pumping.  Well, okay, so he likes her for more than just her figure; she might be cheerfully caustic, but she’s also so painfully, unflinchingly honest about who she is, that one never needs to wonder where they stand with the former spy. 

She will tell you, in so many sundry and sarcastic ways.

When Myrae says her piece, Tom-Cat takes a moment to think it over.  He feels twitchy and confused…and also pissed off for feeling so twitchy and confused, in the first place.  It wouldn’t be a terrible idea to go and “meet-kill” some stupid bir kurves who portaled straight into a (former) goblin encampment.  It’s a good thing the assassin cleared it out for them… Hmm, maybe he should collect a fee.  At length, Tom-Cat peers at the Drowess, the chaotic disarray of his emotions darkening his gaze to an intense gold, striking as he regards her from beneath the thick fringe of his hooded gaze. 

“Yeah, surrre,” he replies in a rather noncommittal manner.  He shrugs.  “Why not? My day is going so well, alrrready.”  He tries and fails to keep the bitter edge from his tone. The felinoid bites back the urge to check on Miiya through the bond.  He’s kept himself closed off from it, ever since he felt some truly hurtful and vile feelings through the link that makes him think that Miiya secretly despises him.  Or still despises him.  He doesn’t know which truth would be the worst.

For the first time, Tom-Cat questions if, somehow, the bond was wrong.  Is it possible that there was a mistake? He immediately feels…wrong, even questioning the veracity of the imprint.  He doesn’t know if he’s mad at himself or at her, and for what? Hating him, still? For thinking he’s a monster, still? Scum. (The Aeros telegraphs more than she realizes, little micro-expressions that are more honest than words.)  It hurts – he won’t lie. He'll never be anything other than a ground-bound monster, to her, will he?  He shies away from the unbidden thought, the words whispered from the darkest depths of his subconscious as they slither up to nestle inside the folds of his awareness and leech insecurity into the fabric of his mind. Kwesh  If his own bondmate can't see him as anything other scum, then what hope does he really have? 

Keh, there’s no way he’s getting any sleep tonight.  

Tom-Cat looks straight into Myrae’s carmine eyes and just knows that he’s going to regret his next words.  But he says them anyway, because as hurt as he might feel right now, he’d meant every word of his undeclared declarations from earlier, when he’d held Miiya’s hands and tried to comfort her.  “Kwesh, look Myrrrae, just do me a favorrr,” he hesitates.  His soft-furred ears twitch restlessly and the tip of his sleek tail lashes in agitation.  Finally, he takes a breath and just gets it over with.  “Just make surrre she’s okay…I just w–need to know.” He grimaces.  A needling heat sweeps along his spine as his hackles try to raise.  “Please.”  Keh, tastes bitter.  “It’s imporrrtant to me.” Tom-Cat can’t help the self-deprecating noise that escapes him.  “She probably hates me, anyway." He frowns. "Still hates me,” he corrects, sounding more than a little distressed.  He clenches his jaw.  With a shake of his head, the catling turns away.

I’m off to get eyes on the pelton clownshoe.”  The assassin sneers. “And then test the sharrrpness of a new uptseh.”   He pauses and adds: “Have the TonD–Picnic, post up at the frrront of the ‘estate’.”  

With that Tom-Cat disappears into the estate to find some pants, arm himself, and spend a little time in his room (the Window Seat Bedroom) to do something while also mentally preparing to meet the intruder(s). 

 

[OOC: to the Paths To & From Duskhill -- for a little "MeetKill"]


Spoiler
FOOTNOTE *
 * A “not-grin” is more of a bared-teeth, feral smirk, which is not easy to pull off – just ask anyone who’s not a catboy.  Seriously, it is an advanced technique that should not be used blithely or attempted by amateurs. Many a botched “not-grin” has been the catalyst for too many, generation-spanning petty feuds, be it between different family clans, noble houses, or former best friends.  What do you think kicked off the Hatfields vs. the McCoys? 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi and Pioloss liked
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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 843
 

Faan

From: Duskhill

The catboy was acting a bit too familiar for Faan’s comfort. If confiding in her that he enjoyed baths was supposed to set her at ease, it had the opposite effect. This was not the first time Faan had been put up in the house of a noble, but before they had always been clients hiring her to do fittings. That dynamic had been weird, but this was even stranger. She, Pioloss, and Rigel were supplicants, and the Elfmaid was not sure how to act, as such.

“It has been a long day.” Faan said, cautiously. “Tom-Cat, you need not attend me if it is not your wish; I will not tell your mistress…” Faan began, but trailed off as she was led outside to the cascading travertine pools.

Wow.

Oh pretty pretty please let this place not be a deathtrap. I want to live here. Cast in the soft glow of the evening cycle of The Underneath, the luminous steaming pools looked amazingly inviting. Faan did not miss the stone decanter strategically placed atop a limestone table with smaller cups attending it. Forever. I want to live right here forever.

 


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline

╺ ✽ ╸

“Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.”

– Joseph Wood Krutch


[OOC: 1/2 - post split due to length. Second part continued HERE]

 

Tom-Cat had to keep his eyes from rolling right out of his head as he observed Faan proverbially scurry about like a shivery little animal with its tail between its legs, freezing with a twitch of its whiskers at every small sound that scraped the air.  She almost looked like she wished to hug the walls and dart from corner to corner, she was so tense, so distrusting, so jookan sure that some sort of grievous bodily harm was about to befall herself and her companions in this lioness’ den of supposed uncivilized customs, barbarism, and, from the distrust stitched into the corners of her eyes and the tension winding her shoulders tighter and tighter, probably the cannibalism of A’ardky children.  

‘Keh, I didn’t peg herrr as a small-minded rrracist,’ he thought.  He was neither disappointed nor happy by his (incorrect or not) observation; it only prompted him to reappraise the pretty Elfess.  He could tell that she was subtly testing him on what are likely some rather outdated Drowish customs.  And as much as he wanted to simply look her in the eye, gesture to their surroundings, and ask: ‘Rrreally, you’rrre going to get all uptight about what you perrrceive to be incorrrrrect Drowish customs, down herrre in the Underrrneath?’ he refrained.  Despite the mounting edginess that underscored Faan’s every word to him as both he and Myrae continued to fail whatever arbitrary checklist of ‘proper Drow and Priestesses of Loth’ customs she was gatekeeping, Tom-Cat wasn’t doing this because he thought the platinum-blonde Elf was pretty.  

He needed to find out why they were looking for Miiya, and he would get that information one way or another.  Period.  It was only a question of how forthcoming Faan was and how cooperative she might be.  If she didn’t try to play coy or withhold the information he wanted, the catling suspected that the two of them could have a rather pleasant time of it.  He certainly wouldn’t mind taking a page out of Cheshire’s book, in that case.  If the interrogation went the other way? Well, Tom-Cat’s hands are as deadly as they’re beautiful.  It would barely take effort to snap her neck or crush her windpipe.

In the interest of a mutually pleasant evening, the assassin hoped it didn’t come down to that.

When they arrived at the secluded grotto of the travertine pools, Tom-Cat quietly observed Faan’s body language change as she took in the beautiful atmosphere, but especially the stone decanter set before the cushioned seats of a carved limestone table by the edge of the biggest of the pools.  It just so happened that both the steaming pool and the limestone table were just out of view of the bedroom windows located on the upper floor of Duskhill’s main estate, for which Tom-Cat is grateful for reasons he won’t name.  He studied the rapt, hopeful look overspread the Elfess’ face from beneath lowered lids, his eyes golden crescents glowing in the strange half-light of the UnderNeath’s nighttime luminescence.  The assassin’s plan of attack – so to speak – all but laid itself out in front of him, replete with flowcharts and diagrams. 

The catling said nothing to Faan as he passed by her statuesque figure and padded over to the limestone table. His ear swiveled an ear out towards the softly illuminated grounds beyond the pools, keeping on turned back towards her in case she said anything.  His tail cut sinuous patterns through the air behind him as he set down the red box and the parcel of food atop the low-slung table, then disappeared into a little nook set behind two patio loungers on a patio set a little ways back from the cascading pools.  He emerged quickly with some towels which he set down on one of the limestone seats, then returned to the nook.  After a minute or so, the catboy strode from the nook carrying a few large cushions.  He arranged these near the edge of the middle pool, near the limestone table. 

Tom-Cat returned to the limestone table and took the cushion off of the lower seat and set it upon the ground next to the table.  He proceeded to drop to his knees on the cushion, which, well, did quite a bit to draw attention to his well-defined thighs as well as draw the eye up the straight line of his spine to the span of his shoulders and chest.  The catboy pulled the red box towards him and opened it, revealing the gold satin interior and the bottle of alcohol and the pair of wooden lacquered masu cups nestled within. 

He set out one of the beautifully crafted, red-lacquered wooden masu in front of the higher limestone seat.  He uncapped the bottle of sake and filled the stone decanter to the brim, which, given its size and the size of the masu, would refill one wooden cup around ten times or the pair, five times each.  It didn't matter; there’s plenty of rice wine left in the bottle.  

The catling couldn’t help but recall some of his training in Haven, when his friend Chester, who, as an exceedingly rare half-Dryad male and was likely one of the most beautiful beings he’s ever met, took him under his wing.  They had both been in that place against their wills, but Chester made Tom-Cat’s time there more bearable, offering his knowledge, the strength of his icy persona, and his friendship to the catboy.  Chester protected him in his own way, which is why the assassin went back two years later on his own and slit the throat of one of Chester’s regulars, a plainly sadistic man who liked to buy the exotic half-Dryad for days at a time.  He helped his friend escape his servitude that night, and Chester, who held a deep-seated aversion to all forms of touch, had initiated and wrapped him in a tight, heartfelt hug.

He hasn’t seen his friend since; Chester had to flee Haven or he risked being recaptured and severely punished.  Last he heard, the Half-Dryad was heading to Ufaeria to visit the Home of the Dryads.  

Tom-Cat blinked away the memories and kept his eyes lowered for a moment, lest the Elfmaid glimpsed something that wasn’t hers, stirring in the depths of his yellow-gold gaze.  Presently, the catboy picked up the decanter, and, with an unconscious twist of his wristaw the  to expose the lean tendons of his forearms as he tipped the vessel, poured the clear rice wine into the red-lacquered masu to the brim.  He delicately set the decanter back down in front of him and then finally, addressed Faan.

Will you parrrtake in a drrrink, Ulin Dalninil?” he asked, sitting back on his heels, back straight.  He gestured to the overflowing cup set in front of the higher cushioned seat.  To set her mind at ease, Tom-Cat poured a sip of sake from the decanter into his own masu, and drank it.  “It is perrrfectly safe,” he promised.  “I simply thought you might like to rrrelax some afterrr a long day.

 

╺ ✽ ╸

 

It turned out that Faan didn’t need all that much goading to imbibe, and Tom-Cat discovered quickly that the Elfmaid liked her drink.  A lot.  For the moment, the assassin didn’t press her for answers to the questions he truly wished to ask, instead letting her drink for a while and allowing her the peace of her thoughts.  As he refilled her masu once, twice, he watched a rather cute, pinkish flush slowly infuse her pale cheeks with color and dust the tops of her ears with a light  blush.  He imagined that her cheeks were warm to the touch and that the more she imbibed, the pinker her flush would become and the hotter her cheeks would burn.  He thinks it’s sort of endearing the way the flush slowly spreads to paint a stripe across the bridge of her nose and radiating along her jaw before sweeping down the long column of her neck. 

Moreover, as Faan continued to imbibe, the tension started to unwind slightly from her back, her ramrod posture relaxing, the warm currents of alcohol leeching the distrust and tightness from her face.  She wore an unconscious and loose, pleased smile settled about the curve of her lips and some of the shadows that lurked at the corners of her two-toned gaze had fled.  The catling caught more than a fair number of glances from the corner of his eye whenever she thought he wasn’t paying attention, her expression increasingly more appraising with each lingering look. When he saw that the Elfess drained her cup for the third time, Tom-Cat made a decision and stood in one, smooth motion.  He gave a small stretch, the roll of his shoulders down to his hips as smooth as the ebb and flow of waves upon a sandy shore.  He set the cushion back on the lower seat, then dropped into it, leaning back in a casual slouch as he grinned at her across the limestone table.

The catboy leaned forward and refilled Faan’s cup, before he filled the second masu for the first time.  He flashed just the tiniest hint of fang as he gave her a teasing smile and held up the wooden cup in He held up his cup for a toast, catching and holding her bicoloured gaze with his own, as ever something excitingly predatory strained at its chains beneath the surface of his lambent yellow-gold eyes.  There was also something confident, bold, and sincere in his look and a certain verve in the curve of his lips that might mean something or it might not.  

To you, Faan,” said Tom-Cat, tapping the wooden masu against the Elfmaid’s own when she raised it.  “To yourrr well-being afterrr a long day.”  Tom-Cat knocked back the whole cup in one go, savoring the burn.  He refilled his cup right away and would refill hers, as soon as she finished.  He sipped his second cup a little slower, but still kept up a good drinking pace with her.  He looked up at her through the thick fringe of his lashes, and settled his intense, kohl-rimmed gaze upon her.  He leaned an elbow on the stone tabletop and refilled her cup, finished his, and poured more for himself.  He raised it, drank deeply.  

“So,” he began casually a small, attractive grin playing about his lips.  “Did you like the food earrrlierrr? Yourrr frrriend cerrrtainly seemed to.”  He leaned in a bit, dropping his voice to a sleek purr.  “Did you notice the afterrrtaste of almonds?” he asked.  Faan, after a moment, nodded.  Tom-Cat shook his head.   “Ahh, well, that was the cyanide I laced all the food with,” he said offhandedly, shrugging a shoulder.

The statement hung in the air for a moment or two, before Tom-Cat shot her a teasing grin and gave a low, amused chuckle to show that he was kidding.


[OOC: Part 1/2: continued in Part 2 below - located HERE]

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


ReplyQuote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 826
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline

╺ ✽ ╸

“Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.”

– Joseph Wood Krutch


[OOC: 2/2 - post split due to length. FIRST part continued HERE]

 

 

How arrre you, Faan? Rrreally?”  Tom-Cat asked earnestly.  He refilled each of their cups again, before fetching the sake bottle and topping up the decanter.  He frowned in thought.  “I, uh, know how terrrrrifying the Sun Stealerrrs can be,” he said quietly.  He rose in one, lithe movement and moved around the table, closer to her, bringing his cup with him.  He gave her a cheers and tapped his wooden masu against hers, as if in greeting.  He took a sip of his sake, then set down the cup.  The catling took Faan’s free hand and placed it on his stomach along the right side, just above his hip.   He didn’t appear to have any real intent.  Beneath her fingers, Faan would be able to feel the demarcation of smooth skin and a distinctive scored mark pattern that wrapped around his right side from the small of his back and curved over his hip to his stomach.  

“Feel that?” he asked without pretense.  “That’s frrrom the tentacle of a young adult Sun Stealerrr.”  He looked at Faan with a grim twist of his lips.   “I managed to kill it, but it still nearrrly got me.”  He spoke without boasting, his voice a low hush.  “It was one of the most dangerrrous opponents I’ve faced,” he said.  “It was… terrifying.”  He looked at Faan in commiseration.  As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake as he instantly saw a black storm of self-loathing and guilt (one he knew so very well) cloud her brow.  He could almost read the heaviness of the responsibility she felt in the ‘v’ between her eyebrows as she frowned to herself.  

His suspicions were all but confirmed when the Elfmaid drew back her hand from the slightly raised, textured scar on Tom-Cat’s torso and drew in a shuddering breath, her shoulders hunching slightly.  “Your Mistress should take better care of you,” she murmured, a note of bitterness sharpening the points of her words.  The tightness at the corners of her mouth was filled with the weight of the guilt that all survivors of traumatic events where not everyone came away with their lives intact, carry with them like lead anchors sunk down into the soul.  

The assassin still needed his answers regarding Miiya.  Yet there’s a part of him that can’t ignore the  pain, the trauma, he sees in Faan.  Kwesh! Maybe…maybe he could do both.  Maybe he could get the answers he needed and soothe the jagged edge of the Eflmaid’s trauma, at the same time.  Maybe there didn’t have to be a difference, or at least so great a contrast between the two.  After all, Cheshire had always affirmed that the secret to his success was intimacy…and that there was more to intimacy than physical gratification.  That intimacy was in offering something your partner needed, without expectation of reciprocation. That intimacy is something so many people are lacking in their lives that they’re starved for it, which is why Cheshire is so sought after as both a purveyor of information and a purveyor of meaningful encounters.   He remembered something small and innocuous that his brother once mentioned, most likely in passing, but for some reason Tom-Cat has never forgotten it: Hands, do you know how many people considerrr holding hands an intimate act? There arrre some people who arrre so touch-starrrved for rrreal, intimate contact, that they simply want to sit and have theirrr hands warrrmly held. 

Before he could second guess himself, Tom-Cat reached out and took one of Faan’s hands in both of his own.  He thread his fingers through hers and simply held her hand, automatically stroking his thumb across her knuckles in a soothing gesture.  He could tell the action startled the Elfmaid, but she did not draw her hand back or try to wrench it out of his grasp.  She just looked down at their entwined hands with a slightly perplexed furrow in her brow, as if trying to understand what she was looking at.  After a moment, Tom-Cat lifted his cup and leaned forward, bending his head down and tilting his face up to catch her downcast eyes with his own.  His ears twitched and his tail flicked slowly at his side.  When he caught her eye, the catling straightened and then raised his sake as if in toast, waiting as she belatedly raised her own glass to his.

They touched cups in a quiet, unspoken toast, and drank.

‘To…those who arrre no longerrr in ourrr lives,’ he thought, thinking of his lost friend, Chester as he drained his cup and set it down.

Faan drew in a sharp gasp, but released it as a shaky breath, a moment later as she too drained the rest of her drink.  When she set down her masu, the catling reached out and took her hand.  He didn’t look at her, but he spoke after a moment, his voice a quiet rumble.  It was hard to tell if he was speaking to her or just in general.  “Someone once told me,” he said, letting go of one of Faan’s hands to take the other in both of his.  He began to massage it, his fingers strong. Insistent, and sure as he swept his thumbs across her palms and applied pressure to the point between her index finger and thumb. “That the prrroblem with surrrviving was that you ended up with ghosts of everrryone you left behind rrriding on yourrr shoulderrrs.”  He picked up Faan’s other hand, and also massaged it.  He glanced at her and gave a wry twist of his lips.  “Then that same perrrson trrried to sell me an exorrrcism package forrr the rrreligion – cult – they’d just starrrted.”  He chuckled dryly, but was pleased when he earned a small, huffed laugh from Faan.

The catboy internally steeled himself.  It was now or never.  He didn’t let go of Faan’s hand as he stood, drawing the Elfess up with him.

A hot bath may not wash away the trrrauma,” he said solicitously.  “But it’s a step in making your feel like yourrrself, again.”  The Elfmaid hesitated for only a second, and the assassin added, “A massage does wonderrrs forrr strrress…”   Faan agreed, looking partly relieved for the distraction and genuinely eager to feel like herself again.   While she wandered over to the pool, Tom-Cat grabbed the decanter and the two masu and set them down by the side of the travertine pool, along with a couple of towels.

Then, without explaining himself or what he was doing, the catling stepped up behind Faan and slid his hands around the Efless’ slender neck, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing the hollow of her throat as he deftly unclasped her cloak.  The heavy garment slid easily from her shoulders and he gathered it, folding it more or less neatly, before setting it aside.  He turned back in time to see her toe off her shoes, socks, and then jump more or less fully clothed into the heated pool.  The catboy raised a brow at her back and then shrugged and slipped into the pool behind her.

Tom-Cat gave Faan a moment or two to herself to simply enjoy the heated water, watching as she relaxed even more.  It took less than a minute for the Elfmaid to strip off her long-sleeved shirt, apparently finding it too warm.  He didn’t blame her in the least.  The catling stepped up and took her sodden shirt, laying it along a relatively flat rock near the poolside.  He ducked under the water himself, feeling refreshed when he surfaced, water streaming down face, neck, and torso as he pushed his hair out of his face, sliding his fingers through his dark locks as he wrung them out a bit.  He didn’t try to mask his approach as he came up behind the Elfess, reaching out and resting a hand on the small of her back for a moment as he guided her to the shallow end of the pool, where the water came up to about waist height on each of them.  

How arrre you feeling?” he asked sincerely, leaning down to speak right near her ear.  As he did so, Tom-Cat began to press his thumbs up the line of her spine on each side, applying firm starting from her lower back up to her shoulders.  He smoothed his palms up her sides, and gave each of her arms a quick massage, working to loosen the tightness in her upper arms, forearms, and relieve any soreness in her wrists.  The slender Elf had two divots in her lower back on either side of her spine that the catboy smoothed his thumbs over, before pressing in.  “You’ve got a lot of tension in yourrr lowerrr back,” he purred.   “What’s going on?”  

As he asked the question, Tom-Cat moved away from her lower back for a moment to knead his knuckles into the solid knot he felt at her right hip, over the material of her trousers.  He left it for now, and proceeded to map out the rest of her tension areas, moving down to massage her legs.  “These have to come off,” he muttered, as he reached around and with a flick of his thumb, undid the button of her trousers.  “Please.”  Faan exhaled a shaky breath, but complied, shrugging out of the wet pants after a brief struggle.  The catling set these aside on the same rock.  He then bade her sit down on a rocky ‘seat’ submerged just beneath the surface of the pool near one the wall of the shallow end.  “I know it’s harrrd to hearrr orrr accept. Faan,” he said in a soothing tone.  “But whateverrr happened isn’t rrreally yourrr fault.”  He paused.  “You may think you’rrre honorrring those you left behind by carrrrrrying them with you, but you’rrre only brrrringing yourrrself down.”  He met her gaze straight on.  “Easierrr said than done, of courrrse.

Tom-Cat set to task as he took one leg in hand and rubbed the arches of her feet, before moving onto to work out the tightness in her calves, first one leg then the other.  He watched her from beneath his lashes and saw that she almost looked drowsy.  He smiled at her and held out his hand and helped her back up.  “How does that feel?” he asked.  “Let me know if you want me to go harrrderrr or softerrr,” he said, speaking into her ear so she could hear him over the sound of the pools.  He turned her around and then really got the massage underway.

He started by kneading the base of her skull, then curving his hands over her shoulders, working his fingers into the tight muscle right below her clavicle.  He reached around and placed his hand flat against her sternum so he could press his knuckles harder into a tight mass of knots beneath her shoulder blade.  Without him asking, Faan slid down the straps of her bra and then slipped out of the garment, keeping her back turned to him.  He tossed it to the side.  “Thanks,” he murmured.  A minute later as her eyelids fluttered a bit, he asked, “Who is looking forrr a pinioned Aerrros?” 

He worked her upper back in earnest, concentrating and feeling a little bit of triumph as one by one, the knots in the Elfmaid’s shoulders and upper back began to relent beneath the insistent pressure of his hands.  It didn't take long until Faan was almost leaning back against him as the tension was forced from her body.  “I neverrr asked, but why are you looking forrr an Aerrros in the UnderrrNeath?” he questioned, gripping her hips as he worked his thumbs into the tight knot of her lower back. 

The pressure of the assassin’s hands became lighter, softer, as he worked out many of the knots of Faan’s body and she became pliable and relaxed.  He  pressed lightly against her side as he nestled his lips by her ear, his chin nearly on her shoulder as he asked one last, important question.  “Can someone rrreally give a pinioned Aerrros back the sky?


 

[OOC: 2/2 - post split due to length. FIRST part continued HERE]

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (34/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN EXTERMINATION (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: Cliffhanger (★1/2) -PowderKeg (★1/2/3) - Hypothermia (4/5/6) - Imprint (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING:(1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls 1st Kiss Makeouts & Memories Laughter & Kisses Eros & Hormones Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Goodbyes, & Catboy Abduction Love Poem No, no, no...
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
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RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder
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[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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