Most of the southern region of Baa'sek is cut off from the rest of the continent by the dense, dangerous Tengel Rainforest. Much of what isn't forest is swamp lands, with the Baian Swamp covering the majority of the coast. Most cities exist along the edges of the rain forests, particularly in a divide just on the eastern limits of Baa'sek. Lamenolai lies to the north while the Slums lie to the south.

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Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 01/28/2018 4:45 PM

[We're not sure yet what this RP will contain, so tread with caution!
NSFW bits will probably not be hidden by spoiler tags, be warned.]

Image

He stumbled. He heaved. He ached.

Cyril's legs desperately wanted to buckle as soon as he'd stood, the world spinning as bile rose in his throat. The freezing pavement had seeped mercilessly into his bones, laying still in the spot where he'd been thrown from the back door of the bar. At first it had felt good, so good, against the cuts and bruises covering his hands and jaw (fist fighting with rings on ought to be foul play, he'd decided), but the sickness that always seemed to follow drinking too much chased the comfort out of him and forced him to get up.

That being said, it was a mistake to do so.

Cyril caught himself on the wall and vomited whatever high alcohol content he'd consumed inside the bar, effectively spilling his father's money onto the pavement and coughing as much of it out as he could. He never was fond of getting sick, but he was fond of waste, in the sense that it was liberating to be able to throw away something that someone else thought to be valuable. Cyril figured his father valued him. And that was about it.

Getting into a bar fight might've not been the best idea, though, on such a freezing night so far from home. He'd just walked, picked a direction that night, stumbled upon a taxi, and found himself there. His phone was still in his pocket, so he could call his father or brothers anytime, but that would mean admitting defeat. So instead, he willed his legs to move, and he started walking through winding streets lined with pale lights and faceless strangers.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 01/31/2018 9:15 PM

Image


Kai wasn't intending to scout anyone out that night.

It never harmed anyone to keep an eye out. Browse the available selection, if you will. He wouldn't go out of his way, that was all - he'd stick around Arcanum, observe the passersby, enjoy the company of the not-so-human. It was over his third lungful of smoke and the glowing embers of his cigarette that he noticed the boy, stumbling at the gates to the main street, and he had to suppress the urge to chase him down immediately.

He smelled young, and bloody, and that made for one hell of a fun time. Still, this one was clearly drunk. Worse for wear, more trouble than he was worth, no doubt.

There would be someone interested in him, though.

The club was dim, all blacks and reds and hazy, unfocused lighting. Kai had no trouble slipping through the small packs of people unnoticed, ducking under arms and sliding around legs. He'd walked the very same route hundreds of times before, bringing news of the vulnerable to a friend. Assisting the Grim Reaper. Cecil was hardly grim, and wouldn't take kindly to being called a reaper, but the notion was amusing all the same.

Image


Cecil didn't look up from his drink when Kai slipped into the booth opposite him.

"There's a boy outside," The demon began with the vague, to gauge the other man's mood. A flicker of interest, but nothing too extravagant. Continuous blank staring into his whisky.

"There are boys here." His voice was syrupy - smooth, with an edge of stickiness.

"He's young. Drunk, on his own. Stinks of blood," Kai continued. His smirk widened when Cecil's eyes finally met his. "Vulnerable. Your favourite flavour."

Cecil was wordless as he stood and made his way towards the door, but Kai knew to refill his glass for his eventual return. He'd need it.
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/08/2018 1:39 AM

As tenacious and forward-thinking as Cyril's mind was, his legs had different ideas. His head was pounding, and it wasn't long before he'd sank down to his knees against the wall, pressing the side of his face against cold bricks. Perhaps it would relieve some of the aching heat in his wounds--really, it just stung.

It really wouldn't do to get mugged in a place like this. Cyril pressed a hand to the wall and forced himself to stand, his whole world reeling on its axis for a few moments before he turned his eyes skyward and stared at the hazy streetlights up above. Even against the smudges of red and scrapes on his pale skin, blue eyes still shone beneath his wild mess of black hair. Shone with what sort of emotion, it couldn't be known.

Keep walking. Cyril almost said it out loud to himself, but whatever adrenaline he'd had from before was gone, long gone. He managed to walk to a lightpole and loop an arm around it, breathing haggard as he sagged against it and clung there. In the ring of light against the dark bricks of the bars and brothels around him, there was something poetically lonely about the image.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/08/2018 8:46 PM

Cecil didn't necessarily consider himself an opportunistic man. It was smart, to know when to strike - reducing that down to such a crass term wasn't pleasing to him. Even so, it was hard to deny that this venture was entirely based on the fact that the boy was supposedly injured, drunk and alone. He wouldn't bother going after a random from the streets if they were of sound mind and healthy body. There were perfectly in tact specimens willing to throw themselves at him for free at the bar.

He knew he was a bad person. It had gotten (almost) to the point where such a revelation did not bother him.

Arcanum's entrance was a falsely grandiose one, leading off of the main street and into an alley of its own through wrought iron gates. The walkway had been illuminated with the twinkle of string lights, to add to its innocuous appearance. It was not meant to draw attention to itself. Those who knew of it would enter - those who didn't would stay out. Even from halfway down the pavement, in the dark, Cecil could see the figure limply clinging around the lamppost, could smell the blood - could practically taste it, right there--

And yet. Something made him stop in his original tracks, when he grew close enough to observe the boy. So forlorn an image. Sad enough to make his heart twinge with one emotion or other, a strange unfamiliar sensation. Sympathy.

"You're lookin' worse for wear, pet," He kept his voice low and approached slowly, as not to startle Cyril. "Someone rough you up?"
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/08/2018 11:16 PM

His vision had started to blur. Cyril had resigned himself to collapsing there, once his arms gave out on their own. But then, a voice--and instantly, Cyril's fight or flight was in full swing. The boy's head shot up, eyes filling with fear the moment he laid eyes on Cecil's approaching form. On instinct, he held up a hand, still leaning heavily on the pole. "Don't," he croaked out, his voice shot and painful to get out. He couldn't quite seem to get anything else out, after that, before his fear stalled out into something like bleak acceptance.

"Were you planning to finish the job, or something?" Cyril murmured, the corner of his mouth tugging into a wry smirk, pushing himself to stand up a little straighter and rub the back of his hand against his bloody jaw. Even with the false bravado, he couldn't keep his voice from wavering as he continued to speak. "Or did you have--o-other plans...?" His eyes darted to the side, then somewhere behind Cecil, as if looking for an escape, a route to leave if he came any closer.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/08/2018 11:27 PM

Cecil said nothing for a precious while. It would be a tremendous waste to ‘finish the job’, as the boy had aptly put it - he was young, handsome by all accounts. Quite the silver tongue, too. He couldn’t suppress a small smirk of his own, but kept his distance, almost equally as cautious. There were no plans to hurt Cyril. Even when the darker parts of his brain wailed out for action, to snatch the vulnerable kid up and have some fun with him, he remained unmoved. No. That wasn’t what he wanted.

What kind of miraculous mercy had crossed over him? Did the sight of something helpless not normally make his blood pulse stronger in its desire for a victim? Cyril’s eyes spoke fear, but not the kind that aroused him. A kind that made him want to help.

He was that boy, once.

That’d be a waste of a pretty face,” He finally spoke, daring to inch a step and a half closer. He couldn’t be too brash. If he misread this, it would put them both in danger. “I can help, if y’want. Get those seen to. It must hurt.
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/08/2018 11:45 PM

Every fibre of Cyril's being told him to run, when he was met with silence. It was a brief moment, but it felt like an eternity in the back of Cyril's mind. He hadn't realized his breathing had gotten so fast, so shallow. Shit, shit, he couldn't pass out here. He had to get away. He had to--

Cyril let out a noise that sounded pitiful, a kind of wrenching cry as he bolted as fast as he could towards an alleyway. He didn't make it far. His legs gave out about halfway through and he collapsed to his knees, starting to crawl a few paces before a wave of shuddering nausea overtook him. "Don't kill me," he managed to get out, fumbling for his pocket...

Shit. Where the hell was his pocket knife? Had he lost it in that bar fight...?

Suddenly the strength seemed to seep out of him, and Cyril slowly turned his face to stare up at Cecil, now haloed by the streetlamp behind him. It did hurt. He found a smile, somewhere, a ragged and exhausted one. "You could kill me, actually," he breathed, arms wobbling where they held him up.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/08/2018 11:58 PM

Cecil had not been expecting the boy to run. Making an attempt at it in such a feeble state was commendable, brave, but it was pointless. There was no way he would get anywhere with those injuries. It was no surprise to him, therefore, to see him crumple to the floor. It made him cringe inwardly, to hear the thud of his knees hitting the concrete; that wouldn’t have helped the already intense pain.

God, it was something new, to care. Hearing those three words - ‘don’t kill me’ - oh, what delight they usually brought him. That perverse, twisted arousal reared its ugly head, but was quashed instead of being stoked. Doesn’t he look delicious? Those nagging, crowing voices. His gut flipped uneasily with the effort it took to struggle past what had become his most base instincts. Just pull him aside. No one will hear him scream, no one will come—

Don’t be daft,” He managed to grunt through gritted teeth. It wasn’t his time. It wasn’t what he wanted. None of your victims wanted it, freak.You’re comin’ with me. We’re fixing you up. Understand?

None of his usual smooth fripperies. Cecil strode forwards to Cyril’s side, and stretched out a hand.

Can y’stand?
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/09/2018 12:22 AM

Cyril's derisive smirk faded, ever so slightly, as Cecil's language turned to something more frank, less sly and seductive. Pet. The word still tugged at Cyril's brain, his expression glowering slightly as he stared up at the man.

Fine, then. It was this, or pass out on the street.

Cyril shifted his weight and tried to reach up and grab Cecil's hand, almost immediately buckling with his shift in balance. He clung to Cecil's sleeve and shook as he tried to stand, but it was cold outside, and he hadn't realized just how numb his limbs were until right then. "I can," he hurriedly murmured, as if to prevent Cecil from helping, but after a few more seconds of struggling, he lifted his head to stare woozily up at the other man.

He was... rather beautiful, in this light. Cyril blinked hard and managed to get a hand on Cecil's shoulder, but it seemed that was the extent of his strength. "I can stand," he began, a rough breath that might've been a laugh in some other place or time escaping him. "But I might not be able to walk."
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/09/2018 10:39 PM

Cecil was firm and held up beneath Cyril's pained fumblings, instantly coiling an arm around the boy's waist to help steady him. He wouldn't hear any protests from him about being assisted, because he needed it, and for god's sake, he didn't realise how fucking hard it was for Cecil to resist something that his body was screaming out for. It would be so god damn easy to give in.

"I gotcha', pet," He said, his tone regaining its standard seductive lilt, albeit tinged with something a little more soothing. "If y'bleed on me, I'm sending you the dry cleaning bill."

A jest, to hopefully put Cyril more at ease. He didn't wait to see if it had worked - instead, in one swoop, he stooped down to hook his free arm around the back of the boy's knees and lift him off the ground. This is the first time I've ever wanted someone not to fight me, he considered dourly. Maybe the warmth of his body, the rich spiced vanilla of his cologne or the loose silk shirt, unbuttoned to his sternum, would help aid some relaxation. It was doubtful. The kid was more likely to bleed directly onto Cecil's chest than his clothes, with how little of his his torso it covered.

"We're goin' into the bar," He left no room for argument. "I'll get someone to see to you."
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/10/2018 1:08 AM

Cyril tensed slightly at the arm around his waist, but there was a kind of vague familiarity to it, something that gave his pounding head some peace. Maybe it was the pressure, the feeling of his weight being supported. Either way, he suddenly found himself scooped up in the other man's arms, the skin of Cecil's chest too warm against his jawline where his head lolled against his shoulder. Exhausted... and his apparent savior smelled nicer than he would've liked to admit.

"Don't call me that," he managed to mutter, but a weak smirk tugged his mouth at Cecil's attempt at a joke. He grunted as he managed to hook an arm around Cecil's neck for leverage, the man's longer hair tickling his arm. The sensation was so different than the pain throbbing through him that it gave him pause, opened his expression to something more neutral and loose rather than a scowl. He nodded, after a long moment, giving his consent for being 'seen to,' as it were--going home in this state would be a nightmare to explain.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/10/2018 11:10 PM

Cecil couldn't control an amused quirk of his lips in response to Cyril's distaste. It was a shame he didn't like it (or said he didn't like it, at least), because he had no plans to stop in the near future. Whatever protective fleck of light that was living in the depths of his soul had grown and consumed him, and pet names were the correct way to express it at the moment, in his irrational mind. With full consent given, he started forward with vigour. They'd go through the back.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" He said conversationally, as if not to spook the boy. If he knew anything about this process, it was that forcing answers from someone would end horrifically. Cyril had already shown himself as stubborn - he didn't want to push his luck and end up getting attacked, no matter how feeble it would end up being from an injured party. "Or I can settle for a name. Kinda like to know the name of anyone I sweep off their feet."

He did a loop around the back of the building and, with the authority and grace of someone who knew the place intimately, nudged a back door open with his hip, keeping his hands on Cyril.
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/11/2018 2:39 PM

Cyril's grip around Cecil's neck tightened a little when the man sped up, trying to keep his balance (as if he was really in control of such a thing) in Cecil's arms. The casual conversation did, at least, put him at some ease. "Got in a fight," he murmured vaguely, glancing up at the string lights above them. His expression softened as he watched them pass overhead on Cecil's way to the bar. "Just had that itch in my hands, you know... just scratching an itch."

It was, perhaps, more than he should've said, or was asked of him. Part of him didn't care. Perhaps he could ramble without being ridiculed for it, or asked to maintain his brevity. Then again, he was the one being saved here, and the thought made him scowl. "You don't need my name," he suddenly snapped, albeit just as sluggish as before (he did look about ready to pass out, now that he was calming down). He clammed up for a few seconds, some ingrained manners rising to the surface, and he let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. It's Cyril Perc-- mm... actually... please, just call me Cyril. Or anything you like. Except pet," he added, but there was actually a small note of humor in his voice. If Cecil looked close enough, he might catch the tiny tug of a smirk on Cyril's face.

Cyril noted the back entrance curiously. "You act as though you own the place," he mused aloud, his tone a bit lighter than before.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby Isalynne » 02/12/2018 9:16 PM

Just scratching an itch. Such jarring similarities between himself and the boy were painful to Cecil, but also amusing, broadening his smirk just a touch. Destructive tendencies. All that pent up rage, he could practically feel it from Cyril’s tightly coiled form and defensive, edgy tone. He hadn’t considered that he was an innocent victim in the first place, but having his suspicions confirmed was still satisfying.

A dull thud of heavy bass was audible from the club’s busy dance floor, and a heady scent of smoke and liquor permeated even the dim staircase leading up to the first storey. It was all very familiar; Cyril was correct to pick up on the tendency to treat it like a second home.

Cyril,” He tested on the tip of his tongue, saccharine as standard. “M’friends own the place. Became sorta comfortable here after a while, even with that bloody racket downstairs.

Along a shady hallway at the top of the stairs, and then into the third door on the left. A room that was definitively Cecil’s lay beyond - rich burgundy wallpaper, carved solid oak headboard, heavy drapes drawn across a wide window. His distinctive sweet-and-spiced musk clung to the place. It was an impulse to set Cyril on the bed, but he checked himself just in time and lowered him into an armchair by the pulled curtains. He wasn’t a usual visitor.

Stay put,” A command, but still rolled and simpered in his drawn out, defaultly seductive tone. “I’ll find someone.
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Re: Godless and Free [P; E]

Postby zapdragon555 » 02/12/2018 9:34 PM

Cyril didn't want to admit that the sound of his own name on Cecil's tongue sent the smallest of shivers down his spine. Pleasant, too. To compensate for the soft coloration to his cheeks, he murmured, "See, now, it suits me much better than 'pet' does. Suits your mouth better, too."

Perhaps that could've been worded better. He shifted when he was set down in the chair, taking a moment to glance around the room lethargically. It was... lavish, yet sturdy. Something rather grounding about the whole room, though the warmth of the room's colors and scent was almost cloying, blanket-like.

Cyril's spine straightened ever so slightly at the command, feeling as though he should be affronted. He found the emotion after the initial spark of startled obedience, and put a scowl on his face. "Your 'someone' better be quick," he murmured, allowing himself a touch of fun. Perhaps he was still just... a little drunk. It wasn't doing anything for his politeness.
In the morning when I wake,
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold,
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through,
Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,
But my world is you.


Can I be close to you?


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