log; one night maaaagic; AMBROSIUS + DAMON + TRISTAN + HAYLEIGH + FLURR
Backdated to the 24th evening of September. Ambrosius and Damon make a voodoo doll of someone.
Ambrosius shut down his computer, tossed his hair sensually, and began to dress in earnest. His appearance had drastically changed since his initial arrival in London. In place of the usual oversized black cloak and custom tailored black jacket overtop of a swishy white shirt and set off with a crisp cravat, he now wore the plain jeans and sweater of a typical Londoner. He missed the familiar weight of the cloak, but its weight had also sent him tumbling into dumpsters and trash cans, so perhaps the loss was a good one.
Now Ambrosius changed into the nurse cosplay outfit he had been wearing on and off since Damon's awakening from his coma.
"Perfect," he said, glancing over his reflection in the mirror.
Tonight was the night. Tonight he would seme Damon. Seme all his troubles away, and clutch thin trembling uke Damon to his bosom.
All of this would happen after their performance of an elaborate voodoo ritual with a Lycurgus-doll. Voodoo rituals didn't quite fit in with Ambrosius' new rationalist attitude, but to ease Damon's clearly troubled mind, he would take part in any heathen pagan ceremony.
Meanwhile Hayleigh was preparing a nice, warm shower for herself. God, she could use one after nearly being mauled by a goose (again) on her way home. She had deliberately walked on the other side of the block to avoid the park but an angry honk caught her attention and Hayleigh was bulldozed by the same angry goose.
She nearly face palmed... and then just stepped into the shower, tossing the towel onto the rack.
Damon was staring at the Lycurgus voo doo doll he had managed to make with his aunt's help in a span of two hours. It didn't seem to look like Lycurgus... for one, his aunt had sewn a smile onto the face and he was trying to find a way to flip it upside-down or make it a straight line. Perhaps he'd rip it off during the ceremony... and Lycurgus' mouth would be torn from his face resulting in injury and he wouldn't be able to shriek because he would have no mouth.
Dear god... Damon had issues.
He was picking at Lycurgus' hair, to make sure it did look like him because what if they voodoo'd some innocent person who looked like Lycurgus?
Precautions... precautions!
Tristan pressed his ear to the wall that separated his bedroom from the room Damon and Ambrosius slept in, ready to dive into the toilet and swirl into the room if Damon started shrieking. So far though, all he could hear was Ambrosius' smooth voice chanting in some strange language.
"Bloody hell," he muttered. "They're kinky."
Ambrosius finished the first incantation, smoothed the skirt of his nurse's outfit, and passed the voodoo doll back to Damon.
"Shall we drip hot wax upon it, my pet?" queried Ambrosius.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Damon glared at the voodoo doll in his hands but poked at it again.
"Let's add p-- what did you call me?" he shook his head, staring at Ambrosius for a second.
Ambrosius folded his hands in his lap and fixed Damon with a serious, unwavering gaze. He had learned such tactics from Kilina, who he imagined could probably top even Lycurgus.
"Damon, are you a virgin?"
"I think we should start with the legs... preferably the thighs... and no Brunhilde took-- WHAT." Damon bellowed and jumped, too.
Jesus crist... Ambrosius' eyes were glowing like a predator's. Damon shifted in his spot-- half turned on and half scared. Actually, more scared.
Hayleigh paused for a moment in the shower, holding her hair back and listened again for what she thought was yelling but then turned a cheek.
"Thighs?" Ambrosius blushed delicately, while still holding onto his cool seme demeanor. "How cruel of you, Damon. In another time I would have called it sensual. Perhaps I still might."
He seized a knitting needle and stabbed it into the Lycurgus-doll's left thigh.
Nothing happened.
He looked up into the wide, pink, frightened eyes of his lover, and moved closer, until he was breathing all over Damon's face. "...Let me take you, Damon."
At the sound of Damon's characteristic nasally bellow, Tristan sprinted into the bathroom, all set to flush himself down the toilet to leak out through through the pipe in the bedroom. But then he got distracted by Hayleigh washing her hair behind the glass door of the shower.
"I CAN'T SEE A THING DON'T WORRY," he yelled, while staring openly.
Well... of course nothing happened. Lycurgus was in Lisbon... they couldn't see him right now. akjhfse
Damon's heart was about to leap out from his chest cavity and then he began shrieking as Ambrosius lowered himself onto him.
Then his world faaaaaaded to black.
The sound of the door bursting open startled Hayleigh and only later on she would regret sliding the door open. When she did open it, she saw Tristan at the door and her face lit up a red light bulb at Christmastime.
"T-TRISTAN... GET. OUT!" Hayleigh screamed and slammed the shower door, sinking into the corner.
Tristan stumbled backwards and into the toilet, and decided that now would be a good time to flush himself away. When he solidified minutes later in Damon and Ambrosius' bedroom, the mad sight of Ambrosius in a nurse's outfit making out with an apparently deceased Damon while beside them sat a scary looking doll with a knitting needle stuck in its thigh-- Tristan didn't think twice and punched Ambrosius hard in his jugular.
The skinny boy went flying... and then Tristan realized he had just been giving CPR to an unconscious Damon. Shrugging, Tristan melted back into liquid and swirled out of the room.
When everything had gone completely quiet, Flurr crept out from underneath the bed, eyes darting around the room in paranoid fear.
Ambrosius shut down his computer, tossed his hair sensually, and began to dress in earnest. His appearance had drastically changed since his initial arrival in London. In place of the usual oversized black cloak and custom tailored black jacket overtop of a swishy white shirt and set off with a crisp cravat, he now wore the plain jeans and sweater of a typical Londoner. He missed the familiar weight of the cloak, but its weight had also sent him tumbling into dumpsters and trash cans, so perhaps the loss was a good one.
Now Ambrosius changed into the nurse cosplay outfit he had been wearing on and off since Damon's awakening from his coma.
"Perfect," he said, glancing over his reflection in the mirror.
Tonight was the night. Tonight he would seme Damon. Seme all his troubles away, and clutch thin trembling uke Damon to his bosom.
All of this would happen after their performance of an elaborate voodoo ritual with a Lycurgus-doll. Voodoo rituals didn't quite fit in with Ambrosius' new rationalist attitude, but to ease Damon's clearly troubled mind, he would take part in any heathen pagan ceremony.
Meanwhile Hayleigh was preparing a nice, warm shower for herself. God, she could use one after nearly being mauled by a goose (again) on her way home. She had deliberately walked on the other side of the block to avoid the park but an angry honk caught her attention and Hayleigh was bulldozed by the same angry goose.
She nearly face palmed... and then just stepped into the shower, tossing the towel onto the rack.
Damon was staring at the Lycurgus voo doo doll he had managed to make with his aunt's help in a span of two hours. It didn't seem to look like Lycurgus... for one, his aunt had sewn a smile onto the face and he was trying to find a way to flip it upside-down or make it a straight line. Perhaps he'd rip it off during the ceremony... and Lycurgus' mouth would be torn from his face resulting in injury and he wouldn't be able to shriek because he would have no mouth.
Dear god... Damon had issues.
He was picking at Lycurgus' hair, to make sure it did look like him because what if they voodoo'd some innocent person who looked like Lycurgus?
Precautions... precautions!
Tristan pressed his ear to the wall that separated his bedroom from the room Damon and Ambrosius slept in, ready to dive into the toilet and swirl into the room if Damon started shrieking. So far though, all he could hear was Ambrosius' smooth voice chanting in some strange language.
"Bloody hell," he muttered. "They're kinky."
Ambrosius finished the first incantation, smoothed the skirt of his nurse's outfit, and passed the voodoo doll back to Damon.
"Shall we drip hot wax upon it, my pet?" queried Ambrosius.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Damon glared at the voodoo doll in his hands but poked at it again.
"Let's add p-- what did you call me?" he shook his head, staring at Ambrosius for a second.
Ambrosius folded his hands in his lap and fixed Damon with a serious, unwavering gaze. He had learned such tactics from Kilina, who he imagined could probably top even Lycurgus.
"Damon, are you a virgin?"
"I think we should start with the legs... preferably the thighs... and no Brunhilde took-- WHAT." Damon bellowed and jumped, too.
Jesus crist... Ambrosius' eyes were glowing like a predator's. Damon shifted in his spot-- half turned on and half scared. Actually, more scared.
Hayleigh paused for a moment in the shower, holding her hair back and listened again for what she thought was yelling but then turned a cheek.
"Thighs?" Ambrosius blushed delicately, while still holding onto his cool seme demeanor. "How cruel of you, Damon. In another time I would have called it sensual. Perhaps I still might."
He seized a knitting needle and stabbed it into the Lycurgus-doll's left thigh.
Nothing happened.
He looked up into the wide, pink, frightened eyes of his lover, and moved closer, until he was breathing all over Damon's face. "...Let me take you, Damon."
At the sound of Damon's characteristic nasally bellow, Tristan sprinted into the bathroom, all set to flush himself down the toilet to leak out through through the pipe in the bedroom. But then he got distracted by Hayleigh washing her hair behind the glass door of the shower.
"I CAN'T SEE A THING DON'T WORRY," he yelled, while staring openly.
Well... of course nothing happened. Lycurgus was in Lisbon... they couldn't see him right now. akjhfse
Damon's heart was about to leap out from his chest cavity and then he began shrieking as Ambrosius lowered himself onto him.
Then his world faaaaaaded to black.
The sound of the door bursting open startled Hayleigh and only later on she would regret sliding the door open. When she did open it, she saw Tristan at the door and her face lit up a red light bulb at Christmastime.
"T-TRISTAN... GET. OUT!" Hayleigh screamed and slammed the shower door, sinking into the corner.
Tristan stumbled backwards and into the toilet, and decided that now would be a good time to flush himself away. When he solidified minutes later in Damon and Ambrosius' bedroom, the mad sight of Ambrosius in a nurse's outfit making out with an apparently deceased Damon while beside them sat a scary looking doll with a knitting needle stuck in its thigh-- Tristan didn't think twice and punched Ambrosius hard in his jugular.
The skinny boy went flying... and then Tristan realized he had just been giving CPR to an unconscious Damon. Shrugging, Tristan melted back into liquid and swirled out of the room.
When everything had gone completely quiet, Flurr crept out from underneath the bed, eyes darting around the room in paranoid fear.