[ Week 12, Day 7 ] • [ Merged Dream || Closed/Complete ] Happy Birthday, Chrome. ~
Who: Chrome Dokuro (fakeorgans) and Rokudo Mukuro (fakehumanity)
Status: Closed | Complete.
Style: Action.
Where: In ACTUALITY: their bed in Yomisato. But the log itself takes place in memories of some fancy hotel room somewhere, probably in Italy. It's set during the evening, after a Vongola-hosted birthday party for Chrome.
When: Week 12, Day 7.
Rating: NC-17 for the dream itself.
Warning: THIS IS REALLY QUITE, UM. PORNY. Believe it or not, I'm re-posting it here more for the headcanon/introspective aspects. A lot of those ideas are integral to our playing of the characters, so I wanted to slip them into Kannagara proper for reference's sake. But, yes, um. Lol, porn, as well. /facepalm
Note: Will not be viewable to others via the Hitomi.
[ It is midnight, dinner has been completed, and no one has died. Yet.
The others have scattered: to the bar for late drinks in the summer darkness, to the verandas where crowds will socialize in murmurs about the weather or the latest box technology, to the pools, where their voices drift up through the open window with the motions of the water shadows and the sway of the palm trees. To the lobby, where they will depart into the evening and go seeking new parties. New entertainment. New crowds. To their bedrooms: to sleep off their hangovers. Prepare for noon with an ample closing of the curtains.
Chrome is in her own room, sitting on the edge of the bed, knees together, fingertips tracing the hem of her dress, listening but not truly listening to the voices from outside.
The party was for her. At least in name.
She still cannot provide anything at these parties save for a well-groomed, quiet presence; perhaps it is what some of them appreciate: those who carry on their discourse around her.
But Boss likes social gatherings.
Even if he drank too much and fell asleep earlier than anyone.
(That is usually how it goes.)
In her relative solitude, in their relative quiet reprieve, she allows herself the barest hint of a smile.
This is the part which is always a surprise, you see. ]
I wonder.
What is it this year?
Status: Closed | Complete.
Style: Action.
Where: In ACTUALITY: their bed in Yomisato. But the log itself takes place in memories of some fancy hotel room somewhere, probably in Italy. It's set during the evening, after a Vongola-hosted birthday party for Chrome.
When: Week 12, Day 7.
Rating: NC-17 for the dream itself.
Warning: THIS IS REALLY QUITE, UM. PORNY. Believe it or not, I'm re-posting it here more for the headcanon/introspective aspects. A lot of those ideas are integral to our playing of the characters, so I wanted to slip them into Kannagara proper for reference's sake. But, yes, um. Lol, porn, as well. /facepalm
Note: Will not be viewable to others via the Hitomi.
[ It is midnight, dinner has been completed, and no one has died. Yet.
The others have scattered: to the bar for late drinks in the summer darkness, to the verandas where crowds will socialize in murmurs about the weather or the latest box technology, to the pools, where their voices drift up through the open window with the motions of the water shadows and the sway of the palm trees. To the lobby, where they will depart into the evening and go seeking new parties. New entertainment. New crowds. To their bedrooms: to sleep off their hangovers. Prepare for noon with an ample closing of the curtains.
Chrome is in her own room, sitting on the edge of the bed, knees together, fingertips tracing the hem of her dress, listening but not truly listening to the voices from outside.
The party was for her. At least in name.
She still cannot provide anything at these parties save for a well-groomed, quiet presence; perhaps it is what some of them appreciate: those who carry on their discourse around her.
But Boss likes social gatherings.
Even if he drank too much and fell asleep earlier than anyone.
(That is usually how it goes.)
In her relative solitude, in their relative quiet reprieve, she allows herself the barest hint of a smile.
This is the part which is always a surprise, you see. ]
I wonder.
What is it this year?