(Untitled)
THE (compulsory) SEX DICE GAME
For whatever reason, perhaps to spice up your love life, perhaps to spice up your day, or perhaps because you've been kidnapped or need to play it to save the world (we don't judge), you have before you a few sets of special dice, and an obligation to play the game out to some sort of finish.
Strap in and remember it's ( Read more... )
For whatever reason, perhaps to spice up your love life, perhaps to spice up your day, or perhaps because you've been kidnapped or need to play it to save the world (we don't judge), you have before you a few sets of special dice, and an obligation to play the game out to some sort of finish.
Strap in and remember it's ( Read more... )
[Her poisons run along the lines of Green Chartreuse, Absinthe, Creme de Menthe and Midori -- but mostly the first two. She has half a bottle of the former languishing amoung her things, but Arianna is quite certain that she'd lose her nerve if she left long enough to go get it. So, she'll gladly drink whatever he happens to have to offer.
She's never this forward, and she isn't exactly sure how this works, but do whatever the dice say sounds simple enough, even for someone who's as much of a failure at this sort of thing as she is. She'd always been the wallflower, always watched and never really understood. Then, she had had her books and her spells and the dead and an oversized family she wanted nothing to do with.
She rolled the dice again, chalking her first up to experimentation more than intention -- not to mention it seemed like a rather awkward way to start things off. Were there people that found that pleasurable, or was it just an unfortunate combination? She wondered. The plastic dice clacked against one another for a few moments before coming to a stop. NIBBLE LIPS. Arianna was new to this sort of thing, but she thought that seemed a much better way to start things off.
She was... going to wait until she had at least one good drink of liquid courage before following through, however.]
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In that case, I think it's an Absinthe kind of night. I might even have some sugar hanging around here somewhere...
[The benefits of Absinthe are twofold: one, it actually doesn't taste horrible; and two, they won't really need to drink all that much to reach a rather pleasant state of drunkenness. All good things, certainly.
He tugs out the bottle, dropping it onto the table before moving to dig through his cabinets for some sugar and a fork of some kind. They're gonna do this right, dammit. He's pleasantly surprised to find that he had stashed some sugar away, and he grabs a few cubes and brings them back to the table along with the tip of a plastic fork. Not the best, but esperate times, he supposes...
Cas would have to agree, glancing at the dice, that this roll is a much better way to start things. Much better than neck blowing, for sure. He nods at the bottle, then glances back up to Arianna.]
How do you take this?
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[Absinthe? Really? She hadn't thought she could get that lucky. She'd been counting mostly on some vaguely palatable breed of rum or flavored liqueur. Thankfulness for small miracles. She eyes the bottle, and while it might not be some secret stash that pre-dates the Absinthe Prohibition, it's definitely more than tolerable.
he can't help smiling a little awkwardly as she watches him try and dig up sugar and the best approximation of a slotted spoon they can manage. It might not be classy, but it will work, which is good enough for her.]
Classic, but with two sugars.
[She likes the traditional ritual, however she also happens to like it a bit sweeter than is exactly standard. But, Arianna has always liked her liquor so she can't taste the alcohol. Most things stronger than wine and she's searching for something sweet to hide it behind.
The dice almost seem like they're leering up at her, as if this a really awful idea, but she decides to ignore any possibilities of sensible backing out. Besides, visits with the Green Fairy are one of the few times she used to value company.]
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Good taste, I like that.
[She indicates her preference and he gets to it, blowing through the ritual with a practiced ease that comes from the fact that Cas really, really enjoys this drink. He's also the type to prefer to mask the bitter taste of alcohol with better, sweeter things-- it's why he always has sugar in his cabin. Preparation, of sorts, in case he's lucky enough to stumble upon a drink to enjoy it with.
Tonight he has company. That's even better.]
Here you go.
[He hands Arianna her drink and raises his own glass. To good rolls of the dice! ...Or something like that. Taking a drink, he lets the flavour roll over his tongue... Yeah, this will definitely do.
He blinks down at the dice again. Nibble Lips... That'll do, too. He feels like they're glaring at him impatiently- calm down, dice, he knows he hasn't used you in a while.
...The fact that he's mentally talking to inanimate objects is a clear an indicator as any that a good night and some good company is way, way overdue.]
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[Arianna takes her glass when it's offered, flashing a slightly uneven smile at him. She raises her glass to his and takes a small sip of her drink that's rapidly followed by another much more sizable one. Her nerves likely shows in how quickly she finishes that first glass of absinthe, but she wants this, in some strange way, even unemotional creature that she tends to be.
The world is falling into shambles, and Arianna doesn't really have much in the way of basic human experiences. She figured it was a perfect opportunity to rectify that situation, found out if she was really missing anything in the first place. The alcohol helps, that sometimes subtle sometimes grand tinge of green glitter that absinthe seems to dust the world in no doubt will help too.
She waits for Cas to finish his drink, eying those dice, letting the alcohol start to settle in her system. Her dark eyes looking into his blues with a hint of interest, curiosity. Once the moment seems to be the best she's going to get, she moves closer to him, reducing the distance between them to something more tolerable. Arianna leans in, her long black hair spilling over her shoulder as she shifts her body and draws in so that their lips hover close.
Her breath is warm on his lips; sugar and absinthe and a faint whisper of cinnamon. It's not quite a kiss as she tentatively tugs his bottom lip into her mouth, a slow, soft scrape of her teeth followed by an uncertain flick of her tongue. She tastes the absinthe on his lips and her eyelashes flutter softly closed. She slowly nibbles at his lip, exploring him with teeth and tongue, and then repeating the same on his upper lip.
The dice said lips, after all. She was just following directions. She slowly pulled back and looked up at Cas, almost as if she expected to be graded.]
Was that..?
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He downs it, eventually, and is actually surprised to see that she's already done when he peers over at her again. That's new- it's rare someone outdrinks him when it comes to his favorite. Things have gone slightly hazy, almost green tinted, and so he's not really thinking about it all that much.
She leans forward, and he has just enough time to register the pleasant taste of her breath before she's catching his lip between her teeth, nibbling lightly.
It's strange, but not unpleasant; he's never had anyone do the top lip before. She's thorough- he can work with that. She pulls away, looks up at him like she's searching his face for some sign of appraisal, and his lips twitch into a smile. Leaning forward, he catches her lips in a brief kiss.]
It's fine.
[He grabs the dice and gives them a roll, grinning at the results.]
'Kiss' and 'Your Choice'. Not bad.
[Ducking in again, he lets one of his hands slide up into her long dark hair, curving over the side of her neck before pressing their lips together again. He likes the way she tastes, the absinthe with two sugars, and so he leans in closer, tips his head to the side to deepen the kiss.]
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Definitely seems like it could be worse.
[He could have gotten something more like her initial roll, after all. She murmurs softly when his hands slide into her black hair, fingers curling against the side of her neck. And then their lips are pressing together again, and she leans into it this time, slowly at first. Tasting his lips, and then breathing his breath when he deepens the kiss. She seems to not know what to do with her hands at first, but after a few moments, she settles for resting them against his hips.
It starts as a subtle feeling that something's off, something she can't quite put her finger on as she slowly slides her tongue against his. She can taste the absinthe, sweet on his lips, and it's distracting. If she was a normal person, she probably would have ignored it, but Arianna can't. She always has to know, has to puzzle out the answers. And it finally dawns on her what it is, her mis-matched eyes fluttering behind long black lashes to peer at him across that so-short distance as her thin hands slide up his sides to cup against the sides of his face.
She can feel someone's soul, taste it on their breath. And she can't taste his. It doesn't stop her from kissing him, however, focusing beyond the absinthe to see what she can feel. Arianna's never been good at ignoring puzzles, even ones she didn't expect to find suddenly thrust under her fingertips.
Especially those.]
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There's a low murmur at the back of his throat as her tongue slides against his. Definitely a quick learner. Far from being kissed away, the taste of the drink seems intensified somehow, which only serves to make this feel better, slightly more intense than it would ordinarily feel. It's nice, it's distracting from everything and since that's usually his end goal, things seem to be working in his favor.
Her hands move to rest at his cheeks, and that's nice, too. He lets his own hands wander, smoothing over her back and shoulders, settling at her hips. He has absolutely no idea that she's... probing him, for lack of a better word- he hadn't even been aware there were people who could feel souls in the way she can. He'd probably like to think it would have changed his mind about this, but the truth is that it wouldn't have.]
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He doesn't seem soulless. Not that she can tell like this for certain; the things she can tell in breath and blood are simple, general. It's not the more complete picture she could get by reaching inside him. Given how unpleasant that is, however, she thinks that would rather spoil the mood. And she likes the way that he touches her; the warmth of his hands that smooths over her shoulders and down her back, brushing against the laces of the corset she wears. His hands end up curling at the sharp jut of angular hipbones hidden in the folds of her full black skirt, and she leans into the contact.
Her tongue curls with his, kissing him intently in a way that's half selfish pleasure and half tasting that absence as his breath mingles with her own.
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Humming softly as her hands settle at his hips, he pulls back just a bit, to breathe, but also to grin and offer Arianna the dice- this is supposed to be a learning experience, after all... He should probably follow through with that.]
Your roll.
[Oh he wouldn't mind forgoing the dice altogether, but they're fun, and usually worth taking the time for more than two rolls. The liquor is settling into his system nicely, not that he'd say no to another drink- that'll probably happen later anyway- and he's in a decent enough mood that he thinks he can stand dragging things out a bit longer.]
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She takes the dice, looking into his eyes as she catches her breath, and she just can't resist the question. The fact that it might be rude or surprising doesn't really cross her mind.]
Cas. Why don't you have a soul?
[It's a little bit concerned, but more like a friend telling you not to have that next shot because your face is on the bar. It lacks the fear or the terror or judgement that would likely be accompanied if anyone else at camp was asking that same question. She doesn't want to stop their dice game, despite that discovery she can't help asking about.]
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Shit.
Shit. Talk about being caught with your pants down. ...Well no, he doesn't mind that, actually. Focus, Cas.]
I- ah... Well.
[Hrm. What's the easiest way out of this...? Stalling? Stalling sounds good.]
How did you--?
[His hand twitches at her waist as he's seized with the urge to run his fingertips over his lips, see if there's something there that's given him away. He resists.]
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[She says this as if that should be all the answer that he needs, and it takes her a moment to realize that it isn't. She shrugs a little bit, head tilting back as her mismatched eyes look into his blues.]
I can tell things about people, in breath and blood. Not the specifics, but... enough.
[Her fingers stroke absently against his hips, idly slipping slender fingers through his belt loops, leaning in a little bit closer to press in against him. She liked the closeness, the proximity, the feel of touching.]
Getting more in depth answers is rather unpleasant. I thought it might ruin the mood.
[Given exactly how excruciating having someone shove their fingers inside of you and grasp around where your soul is supposed to be actually is, it's almost ironic with the deadpan way she says it.]
I'm usually good at these things.
[She reaches up with one hand, a curious, sharp smile curving her lips as she drags fingers against the line of his jaw. He was so human; indulgent, but in what things she'd heard, it didn't seem cruel or careless. Angel. But that wasn't possible. Grace was bright and sharp and warm, she should have tasted that.]
But you're either impossible, something I haven't heard of, or both.
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Her fingers move up to slide against his jaw and his eyelashes flutter, lips twitching at the impossibility of his situation.]
Hm.
[It is a little strange, isn't it?
The way he sees it he has two options: to tell her her soul-dar is broken, or to tell her the truth. He can see pros and cons for both, and he takes a bit to push them around in his head, weighing which of the two will work out better for him in the end.
He decides on just coming out with it. She already knows something's up, and he guesses it's interesting enough that she'll dig around until she figures it out... Which could alert other people to his... condition that he might want knowing about it even less.
Yeah, probably better to just...]
I'm an angel. [Pause.] Or at least I used to be. I fell, in a manner of speaking.
[His eyes lower. Even after all this time it still stings, and he still feels a degree of shame about it, engrained since his creation. Angels don't fall. That's just not how they're wired. He waits for the inevitable judgement.]
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[The apology is almost out of place, awkward, but it's the first thing that slips off her tongue. Her voice is soft, and for a few moments her eyes shift, darken with deep-seated guilt as she tilts her head to the side. She takes a breath, trying to shy away from memories of when the Apocalypse was young and slowly looks up at him. Her gaze slides over his face, mis-matched hues flickering to his blue eyes as if seeing him in a new light, her eyes sharp; curious, but not judgmental.
Her fingers trail down to skim against the sides of his throat, and really, she should probably stop touching him, back out because this is now a rather treacherous sort of mistake. But, Arianna had never been good at making the right decisions. Instead, she lets her slender hands trail down to wrap around his waist, leaning in close and holding onto him, because it's the only comfort she really has to offer, even if it's not enough and she's not someone that should really be offering it.
But, somehow, there's something about him that makes him not want to let go.]
I think this calls for more absinthe, don't you?
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[He can never bring himself to fully and completely regret his choice to stay. No matter how miserable things get, he knows he'd played his part in setting this whole thing in motion, and he knows he couldn't have left Dean hear to pick up the pieces alone. Not that he's doing the best job at being any help at all, but... He couldn't have gone back to heaven after everything that happened.
He's surprised, as he usually is, when Arianna continues sliding her hands over his skin, settles them at his waist. She doesn't seem deterred in the slightest, and that's... Good. He can work with that.
Now, Cas is of the opinion that everything calls for more absinthe, but this right here? Tops the list of things that call for more absinthe.]
Absolutely.
[He moves to reach for the bottle and the little bag of sugar cubes, fixing them both another round, endlessly grateful that it's available. He can never quite manage this conversation without there being liquor involved.]
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