Lord Chris Sonom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chrisisofaith) wrote2020-08-20 12:31 pm
chrisisofaith) wrote2020-08-20 12:31 pm
IC Contact
UN: ravens
You've reached Chris Sonom, previously of Melvaunt Deismyr, please leave a message.
You certainly have your moments. Perhaps more often than others. Luckily, it doesn't make me love you less at all.
[Maybe he's also a little weird and annoying, if in a different way.]
I'm glad she didn't poison you, but you've been dismissive of a lot of people without needing to compare to Elias on likability.
I'll keep to this opinion, thank you.
[A beat between messages.]
You were utterly dismissive of me when we met. And Martin, if I remember right.
[Maybe he's also a little weird and annoying, if in a different way.]
I'm glad she didn't poison you, but you've been dismissive of a lot of people without needing to compare to Elias on likability.
I'll keep to this opinion, thank you.
[A beat between messages.]
You were utterly dismissive of me when we met. And Martin, if I remember right.
You're also far more tolerant than Melanie King, YouTuber Extraordinaire.
She hosted a ghost hunting show.
I can't say I was impressed with her catalog of work.
And she wasn't impressed with mine.
She hosted a ghost hunting show.
I can't say I was impressed with her catalog of work.
And she wasn't impressed with mine.
The bite on such a sensitive area does exactly as Chris suspected and sends a vicious jolt through him that draws a sound of need and painful pleasure tied together in melody out of the siren. His hips roll and his hands purposefully flatten to better grab at one hip so his other hand can trace up Jon's spine as far as he can reach...and then back down his thigh.
It's enough that, once the lick and kiss sooth sore skin, his body stirs and his tails wind around Jon's ankles. The slit between them parts and he arches up towards Jon as though drawn to him as the tip of his hardening cock with it's soft-barbed texture slips out.
"Jon..." It's a whine and a desperate ode and his calling song starts again, unbidden. Come to me. Be with me. Mine.
It's enough that, once the lick and kiss sooth sore skin, his body stirs and his tails wind around Jon's ankles. The slit between them parts and he arches up towards Jon as though drawn to him as the tip of his hardening cock with it's soft-barbed texture slips out.
"Jon..." It's a whine and a desperate ode and his calling song starts again, unbidden. Come to me. Be with me. Mine.
The trill of song pulls at Jon's mind, but it's a tug he's able to shrug off with minimal effort. Which means he's left with a choice, rather than something being forced upon him. The trail of Chris' claws leaves him feeling strange and hypersensitive. His own cock is just barely perking up, and he hopes it will just go away in a few moments.
Jon glances down in time to see Chris' weird-looking cock emerge, though. He'd told the other man it was okay if this happened. The Archivist sighs against the cleric's skin before dropping a hand down and wrapping it around the length. He hides the mild grimace in another bite at the gills and kiss.
"Relax," he murmurs. "Just relax." The efforts to squeeze and work the cock are inexpert, but Jon tries to aim toward some sort of rhythm.
Jon glances down in time to see Chris' weird-looking cock emerge, though. He'd told the other man it was okay if this happened. The Archivist sighs against the cleric's skin before dropping a hand down and wrapping it around the length. He hides the mild grimace in another bite at the gills and kiss.
"Relax," he murmurs. "Just relax." The efforts to squeeze and work the cock are inexpert, but Jon tries to aim toward some sort of rhythm.
[It takes him a moment to place ‘YouTube’ in relation to what his theatre boys had told him about it.]
We’ll I’m afraid it’s not bias that has me knowing which one impresses me more as well.
It simply lends me the thought that you’ve told me of your enemies and I know now that they are indeed decent reflection of some of your ‘friends’ as well. Excepting Sasha and Martin, of course.
We’ll I’m afraid it’s not bias that has me knowing which one impresses me more as well.
It simply lends me the thought that you’ve told me of your enemies and I know now that they are indeed decent reflection of some of your ‘friends’ as well. Excepting Sasha and Martin, of course.
[It's absolutely bias, but Jon let's that particular thread go. He'd never... really respected "Ghost Hunt UK." He wasn't going to pretend it was anything other than fake entertainment schlock for the digital masses.]
I can assure you that people like Tim, Melanie, Georgie, Basira, and Daisy are a very far cry from the people who wanted to actively murder and or terrorize me.
Mostly.
Daisy got better after the coffin.
I can assure you that people like Tim, Melanie, Georgie, Basira, and Daisy are a very far cry from the people who wanted to actively murder and or terrorize me.
Mostly.
Daisy got better after the coffin.
Perhaps.
Yet that is a far longer list of ‘friends’ who wished you some sort of ill or lack of support compared to the rest.
Perhaps I’m simply stubborn on this point.
Yet that is a far longer list of ‘friends’ who wished you some sort of ill or lack of support compared to the rest.
Perhaps I’m simply stubborn on this point.
They weren't bad people.
I'm explaining poorly.
They were all stuck in horrific circumstances.
We all were.
And I was terrible to a lot of them.
And you're biased.
If they do ever turn up here, just give them a chance, please?
They're better people than I am.
I'm explaining poorly.
They were all stuck in horrific circumstances.
We all were.
And I was terrible to a lot of them.
And you're biased.
If they do ever turn up here, just give them a chance, please?
They're better people than I am.
I’m sure they were as good as any other person off the street could be. Most are.
But in that thought, we’re aligned. I would tell you exactly the same were any of my people to arrive.
I would spare them the same patience I would any stranger.
Except Elias.
But in that thought, we’re aligned. I would tell you exactly the same were any of my people to arrive.
I would spare them the same patience I would any stranger.
Except Elias.
What he'd suffered. He feels ill. He wants to run. He just keeps still and buries emotion after emotion as she speaks. She needs him to look at her and except she was being too forgiving. Her, Wolfe, Jon...all too forgiving for their personal hurts at his hands. Hands that could hurt them again with the turning of the sea beneath his skin.
She needs him to be well again. Easily done. A king is always well.
He builds the armor up and soldifies it as he looks away to take a breath. When he looks back, it's to meet her gaze and offer her a small smile. "I do understand. Very well. Those around us want us to be better when sometimes what we need is a moment to just not be well at all..but you'll get there and we'll be there as you need and desire. I as well. I love you, that hasn't changed any, the rest will come in time."
She needs him to be well again. Easily done. A king is always well.
He builds the armor up and soldifies it as he looks away to take a breath. When he looks back, it's to meet her gaze and offer her a small smile. "I do understand. Very well. Those around us want us to be better when sometimes what we need is a moment to just not be well at all..but you'll get there and we'll be there as you need and desire. I as well. I love you, that hasn't changed any, the rest will come in time."
She can see him withdrawing again, and she knows there's no way to stop it. She's pushed too hard. She's asked too much. Dreams, it's what she always does to those she loves most, and now he's suffering because of it.
This is why she's no leader. This is why everything she touches becomes such a mess.
Swallowing hard, she manages a small smile for him and nods. "It will. We'll get through it together. Slowly, as we must." Slowly, because already she's trying too hard and fucking this up. He hasn't run, but he might as well have. She inhales through her nose and leans up to press the softest kiss to his cheek. It's the best she can do when words are clearly making things worse.
"For now, my cleric, I would see us both eat a little something for our troubles. If not for ourselves, then for the others we love who will ask after us." Her smile becomes a little more genuine as she withdraws. "Come. You went to the trouble of bringing something and cutting it for us. I'd rather your work not go to waste, and we could both of us use a drink."
It won't be enough. It won't change anything or make things better or erase the fucking mess she's made. But at least for a little while, even if only a few minutes' time, they can sit out in the sunlight and forget about the troubles between them and simply be as two friends who love each other. For her, at least, that can be what she clings to when everything else seems so uneasy.
This is why she's no leader. This is why everything she touches becomes such a mess.
Swallowing hard, she manages a small smile for him and nods. "It will. We'll get through it together. Slowly, as we must." Slowly, because already she's trying too hard and fucking this up. He hasn't run, but he might as well have. She inhales through her nose and leans up to press the softest kiss to his cheek. It's the best she can do when words are clearly making things worse.
"For now, my cleric, I would see us both eat a little something for our troubles. If not for ourselves, then for the others we love who will ask after us." Her smile becomes a little more genuine as she withdraws. "Come. You went to the trouble of bringing something and cutting it for us. I'd rather your work not go to waste, and we could both of us use a drink."
It won't be enough. It won't change anything or make things better or erase the fucking mess she's made. But at least for a little while, even if only a few minutes' time, they can sit out in the sunlight and forget about the troubles between them and simply be as two friends who love each other. For her, at least, that can be what she clings to when everything else seems so uneasy.
The water feels cool again compared to the heat in him and his song shifts in subtle notes, leaving him barely any time to realize what he’d tried to do again. Guilt runs as a background chord to the sparking jolt of pleasure he’s pulled into.
Part of his mind pushes back. Jon doesn’t want this. He hadn’t intended this…yet requested the closeness and the bites. More rain on him and he groans and rolls his hips into I’ll-practiced fingers.
‘Mine. Stay. Closer. Closer.’ His song calls out and Chris tries to pull Jon down onto him, even with the awkward angle that would put them in.
“Need you…I don’t…doesn’t have to be this-just you.”
It’s not enough. The words are a pale thing compared to his meaning and relaxing seems an impossible feat.
Part of his mind pushes back. Jon doesn’t want this. He hadn’t intended this…yet requested the closeness and the bites. More rain on him and he groans and rolls his hips into I’ll-practiced fingers.
‘Mine. Stay. Closer. Closer.’ His song calls out and Chris tries to pull Jon down onto him, even with the awkward angle that would put them in.
“Need you…I don’t…doesn’t have to be this-just you.”
It’s not enough. The words are a pale thing compared to his meaning and relaxing seems an impossible feat.
From what you've told me about your people, they're heroes.
How ever did you fall in with a disgusting lot of do-gooders?
How ever did you fall in with a disgusting lot of do-gooders?
This is awkward and slippery and Jon's not at all sure what to do with the continued trills of song. The pluck at his mind, but they're only notes here and there, pesky things to be batted away to keep his head where it should be. At least he knows Chris can't drown him in the shower.
Probably.
He can, however, try to pull Jon into him. It forces the Archivist to brace an arm against the wall to keep himself stable.
"I'm yours. You have me." They're in the most placating tone he can manage. Jon lifts his hand off of Chris' cock to try to reposition himself as the siren tugs at him. "And we can do this. I'm not- you're not affecting me right now. Just- what do you want? My hand?"
His hand drops down again as he rubs along Chris' length, continuing to feel intensely unprepared for whatever this nonsense new anatomy is. Cocks are strange enough without adding another layer to it. He can't help glancing down again as curiosity gets the better of him. Would a siren's cock have scales on it? Or... feathers?
Probably.
He can, however, try to pull Jon into him. It forces the Archivist to brace an arm against the wall to keep himself stable.
"I'm yours. You have me." They're in the most placating tone he can manage. Jon lifts his hand off of Chris' cock to try to reposition himself as the siren tugs at him. "And we can do this. I'm not- you're not affecting me right now. Just- what do you want? My hand?"
His hand drops down again as he rubs along Chris' length, continuing to feel intensely unprepared for whatever this nonsense new anatomy is. Cocks are strange enough without adding another layer to it. He can't help glancing down again as curiosity gets the better of him. Would a siren's cock have scales on it? Or... feathers?
Dear Chris,
I hope this finds you well. I am not entirely sure how to start this, but I figured after the confusion of our last conversation, perhaps it would be better to write it out instead. I prefer the inkwell and paper anyway.
I am sorry for any of the confusion on my part. I have been trying to be more aware of others, of my relationship to them, in the midst of going through something equally vulnerable. I had only meant to extend that I would care about the things you would like doing, but realizing now that 'like' would be more complex and subjective.
Your response had felt in some way a rejection which is not something I am unused to, but given our history and what else is going on, perhaps opening up insecurities I have not yet dealt with. Which is why I wished to step away, not wishing to say something I would ever regret to say to you as one of my oldest and dearest friends here. I hope to not minimize your own experiences, who you are and what you do truly like. I never meant to extend anything different or change what we have established, because I have truly enjoyed all of my time with you.
So please forgive me for anything I might have said that was untoward.
Your friend,
Eloise
I hope this finds you well. I am not entirely sure how to start this, but I figured after the confusion of our last conversation, perhaps it would be better to write it out instead. I prefer the inkwell and paper anyway.
I am sorry for any of the confusion on my part. I have been trying to be more aware of others, of my relationship to them, in the midst of going through something equally vulnerable. I had only meant to extend that I would care about the things you would like doing, but realizing now that 'like' would be more complex and subjective.
Your response had felt in some way a rejection which is not something I am unused to, but given our history and what else is going on, perhaps opening up insecurities I have not yet dealt with. Which is why I wished to step away, not wishing to say something I would ever regret to say to you as one of my oldest and dearest friends here. I hope to not minimize your own experiences, who you are and what you do truly like. I never meant to extend anything different or change what we have established, because I have truly enjoyed all of my time with you.
So please forgive me for anything I might have said that was untoward.
Your friend,
Eloise
I needed good tools
I just didn't expect the tools to be kind-hearted
Nor to care for me back
I think it was actually a trap
I just didn't expect the tools to be kind-hearted
Nor to care for me back
I think it was actually a trap
One you set for yourself, I'd say.
Unless you think some 'otherworldly' forces were conspiring to bring you all together.
Unless you think some 'otherworldly' forces were conspiring to bring you all together.
what? Fate?
Some may take heart in that, but I don’t think the gods care so much to play chess with nobody mortals
I think we came together and something took notice. It was just chance.
Or would you rather hear that my world’s gods decide fates? That they might have something in store for you? Some do believe that.
Some may take heart in that, but I don’t think the gods care so much to play chess with nobody mortals
I think we came together and something took notice. It was just chance.
Or would you rather hear that my world’s gods decide fates? That they might have something in store for you? Some do believe that.
I'm perfectly fine with being insignificant and unworthy of attention, I think.
I've been a 'chosen one' once.
But that was people, not gods.
It's bullshit, either way.
I've been a 'chosen one' once.
But that was people, not gods.
It's bullshit, either way.
[He shouldn’t say it. It’s silly and flirty and the kind of tripe Kallian might offer…he types it and then deletes it…and then types it again
Maybe it would make Jon blush.]
you’re my ‘chosen one’
Worthy of my attention
[U g h]
but generally I agree, a god’s notice is usually trouble
Maybe it would make Jon blush.]
you’re my ‘chosen one’
Worthy of my attention
[U g h]
but generally I agree, a god’s notice is usually trouble
[Jon feels his cheeks go warm as he reads that response. How disgustingly soppy. No wonder Chris fell in with a lot of do-gooders. It takes him a moment to compose himself for a reply, too flustered to think of something witty and careless to deflect with quickly.]
I'm sure you say that to all your boyfriends.
But I suppose your attention isn't so unwanted as some.
I'm sure you say that to all your boyfriends.
But I suppose your attention isn't so unwanted as some.
Impossible
I’ve never said that to anyone before
I’m sure my attentions can find a place for themselves soon enough.
A supposedly intolerable man with no friends sounds perfect.
I’ve never said that to anyone before
I’m sure my attentions can find a place for themselves soon enough.
A supposedly intolerable man with no friends sounds perfect.
[This is incredibly stupid, and he hates that he's this easy to charm. Is he this easy? Or is it just because it's Chris? Probably because it's Chris. I needs to be just Chris or he's grown far too soft, really.]
I love you.
I'll bring home a nice bottle of wine tonight.
We can indulge a bit.
I love you.
I'll bring home a nice bottle of wine tonight.
We can indulge a bit.
A curious eye might notice it does indeed have...scales? Probably. At least, they're ridges in a similar color to Chris' scales and feathers that encircle the base.
In the torn moment of not being sure how to say what's in his head, Chris at least manages to resist the urge to let his cock lose its rigidity and...move as he'd learned it could do. Even like this, he knew a slightly prehensile dick might be too much for his poor Archivist. He does reach up to dig his fingers into Jon's short hair, causing his talons to scrape briefly along his scalp.
"Hand is...yes...just kiss me."
It's barely a request as he lunges up to press their lips together. The force of it catches both of their lips on the edges of his sharp teeth and he swirls his tongue over the nicks as apology before seeking more. Deeper. He's closer than he should be...but Jon had that effect on him, whether he liked it or not.
In the torn moment of not being sure how to say what's in his head, Chris at least manages to resist the urge to let his cock lose its rigidity and...move as he'd learned it could do. Even like this, he knew a slightly prehensile dick might be too much for his poor Archivist. He does reach up to dig his fingers into Jon's short hair, causing his talons to scrape briefly along his scalp.
"Hand is...yes...just kiss me."
It's barely a request as he lunges up to press their lips together. The force of it catches both of their lips on the edges of his sharp teeth and he swirls his tongue over the nicks as apology before seeking more. Deeper. He's closer than he should be...but Jon had that effect on him, whether he liked it or not.
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