MOD LOG #3

[bequiet]

MOD LOG #3

Arriving in style
Content Warnings: Fighting, death, violence
Themes: Survival, plot

It's early in the day when it happens. The red dust that seems to be everywhere sweeps through the city streets, mixing with the steady patter of rain and making it hard to see and breathe. All red and leaving the taste of copper if inhaled, what could have been an easy day without any trouble quickly becomes anything but. While those in the community are heading for cover or finding ways to continue on through it, the new arrivals begin waking up in different cities all over the world. There won't be anyone to greet them, and leaving the room through the door is their choice - after doing so, they'll immediately step out into the city they were assigned. The streets are empty, houses abandoned, everything crumbling and in ruins. There will be signs noting their location, which they'll catch a glimpse of before a sharp push forward causes darkness to engulf them.

Waking up for the second time, in Reims but not in the Reset Room, they'll come to inside the red dust as it whips through the streets of the community. They won't be alone for long. Another person will be waking up beside them, and after a few moments of disorientation, try to attack. They might have weapons or use their hands, and they will not stop until they've taken a fatal blow. Their blood is dust, and they, along with their weapons, disintegrate after they've died. Can you stop them on your own? Will someone come to your aid?

The Sight of Lightning
Content Warnings: Poison, sex
Themes: Survival, plot

The day after the storm, the same red dust will find its way through Reims and come into contact with every person. Since the dust is everywhere, some might not notice that it's floating through the community and know that something is off. The effects don't begin until night fall, where everyone will feel the desire to seek out companionship of many different kinds. Though it is not always the case, the people that saw each other in color will "want" to be with that person more strongly than they might already, and will be more likely to confess or do something about it. Some might feel an intense need to be around another person, though not necessarily sexually - almost as if they need that person around them to be happy or content. For some, it might be a desire that can only be fulfilled by more than one person.

The effects wear off the next time the person gets wet. This can be a splash of water across the face or fully submerged. Or even drinking something.

OOC
From your mods:

Please be mindful of content - if something triggery comes up or if it goes up a rating to say, something sexy, mark your threads in the subject line. We're very flexible and allow any material; we just want our players to be respectful of each other. If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment to the appropriate post below. Have fun! The OOC Plotting Post.

NAVIGATION

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Comments

[sparke]

Very much. [ thor responds promptly, but even as he says it, he’s not sure he’s talking about wanting the table and not something else entirely. not that he doesn’t want a table. he does. but she’s warm against his side and the alcohol is warm in his belly when he takes a pull from his jar long enough to match hers.

he thinks about setting the jar onto the table and pressing her into the mattress, covering her body with his, or of pulling her into his lap. he thinks of her closer. ]

[swig]

[ she's leaning into him before she's conscious of it, head slumped against his shoulder and breathing in his scent, the alcohol, the faint remnants of copper she hasn't quite gotten rid of yet. she's sure he could mean the table, or a myriad of other things, and she suddenly finds talking so very exhausting.

she doesn't know what she's doing -- she never does, not on sakaar, not even here. there's a thread of frustration beneath the restlessness that mingles with the fatigue that's long since settled into her muscles and bones; nothing makes sense here, nothing about this place feels right, and the only thing that does is him pressed to her side and it's funny how things always turn out the way she never expects them to. she tilts her head up, just enough to see his face and his good eye, expression resigned as it always is. but there's an ache in her chest that she hasn't quite killed yet, one that makes her lean up to press her lips to his instead. ]

[sparke]

[ her head hits his shoulder and he thinks that this might be enough. this is more than he thought they would share — and he's not entirely sure why it is so important to share her space now, to be close to her, but it feels vital. he thinks this might be enough, but then her head tilts and her lips find his and that is all the invitation thor needs to give in to the ache in his chest and the desire in his stomach, too.

he twists until he can set his hands against her waist and pull her into his lap. it breaks the kiss, for a moment, but he dives in again the moment she is situated, kissing her more deeply than before. ]

[swig]

[ she lets him pull her into his lap, her knees bracketing his hips as her fingers curl into the shorter hairs at his nape. something like relief blooms in her chest and it shouldn't feel this good this quickly, but heat runs down her spine when his tongue slips against hers, at the light scratching of stubble against her cheek. she has her eyes closed and it's easy to imagine this being anywhere else: the ark, sakaar, even, dare she think it, asgard itself.

it's easier this way, to lose herself in it like she did with alcohol, to forget their circumstances for a brief moment; easier still when he folds her in his embrace, broad and solid against her, beneath her. maybe this is something they both needed from the start.

she reminds herself that this is real, that she's conscious of this as she sinks her teeth into his lower lip, not hard enough to break skin but enough that she can feel the give of soft flesh. she scrapes blunt nails along his scalp, opens her eyes to meet his good one and she thinks yes. ]

[sparke]

[ her teeth sink into his lower lip and thor lets out a moan that's dragged from deep within his chest, the low rumble of distant thunder. she's warm and alive atop him and he's thought about this before, but never with such immediate need as now, never so desperately.

desperation meets relief when her hands curl in his hair and he runs his hands down her back, over her sides, up the front until he can up one breast with his palm, curling it there despite the jumpsuit dividing skin from skin. she is warm and alive and he needs her more than he can put in words — but it seems he won't have to at all. for that, he's grateful. ]