DUPLICITY IC CONTACT

[goldrighthand]

device, in-person, etc

Comments

you know what this is

[shichimi]

[going down.

or at least, that's what the elevator announces as the doors tightly open in equidistant space, revealing the entrance to a chamber with a sight he doesn't really expect, nor hope for. he sees the hulking figure of a former rival, and like a moth drawn to the sound of vorpal barrier breaking fist, he decides that coexistence is just a notch above what Genji is looking for at the moment. not one to walk away, however, he steps in, filing so that his back is against a wall.

yeah, he might have some trust issues around the other, but that's. that's completely reasonable.]

Good afternoon.

[this is ridiculous. some smooth jazz music ought to be playing in a slow waft from the speakers above, as Genji's eyes watch the doors close in front of them.]

spongebob I'M READY clip

[goldrighthand]

[Akande, to his credit, is dressed as though he's just coming back from - or going to - a business meeting. Suit and portfolio, the latter of which he's leafing through right before the doors open and he glances up and]








You've got to be kidding me.

[Seriously. Is this, this place's idea of a joke? He clearly remembers Genji, and their fight, but honestly he's just surprised - on multiple levels, some only coming in after one another.

The portfolio is closed with a single hand as he glances down at the cyborg, scanning, and - well, there's nothing out of the ordinary, which is as much confirmation as he needed. He makes a short, dryly amused 'hnh' of a chuckle]

https://ewedit.files.wordpress.com/2018/07/25.jpg

[shichimi]

[Genji is dressed as he always is, clad head to toe in his life supporting duds, which means that he doesn't need a suit to conduct business. he's always ready for business. his hands itch, well- at least metaphorically, since he can't actually feel much of anything on the prosthetic right arm, instinctively wanting to draw shuriken forward to defend himself.

close quarters, though, in a battle with Akande. this is the very definition of dangerous. for the both of them.

but one thing was definitely for certain. it wasn't a joke.

which means, of course, Genji will make it one.]

Gloomy weather we've been having, is it not?

[his tone is, for better or worse, a lot lighter than the situation gives way toward.]

[goldrighthand]

[Ninja ain't got no class whatsoever. To be fair, he's a Shimada, isn't he.

But that's besides the point.]

Not a fan of the rain?

[He's made smalltalk with worse.]

I suppose there's a risk of shorting, for you.

text.

[sorserer]

Good evening. You available?

[ because i am as the unwritten subtext there. ]

text.

[goldrighthand]

I will be a little later on. Were you planning on visiting?

[sorserer]

Today would be a good day for me. If it is for you, anyway.

[goldrighthand]

[honestly he could use the distraction. what is cleaning up after himself.]

As good as any other. I just have to finish up some busywork; it will be an hour or so.

[Good time for Stephen to travel, honestly]

i guess what i'm trying to say is i need the deep end

[sorserer]

[ the best nights in the arena end in the pre-dawn hours. the best nights also have akande, or at least stephen thinks in private.

he'd never admit it, not even on pain of death. he's aware akande knows anyway. akande just knows sometimes, can practically scent his thoughts at times: the way stephen's blood prickles just to watch him win, the proud stance of him in victory, the gleam of sweat on his skin under the focus of the arena lights.

the way akande doesn't even wait for the house to clear out until they're here, in a locker room that hardly anyone dares to enter once they see stephen disappear into it shortly before akande does. that shouldn't get to him, as much as it does. stephen's never quite been able to pin it down, his own attraction to power. ]

God.

[ the word choked out of him, almost a sigh if it didn't sound like it comes from the very depths of his chest. he has long legs, knees hiked up at akande's sides just to be held fast against the wall of the locker room; his hands are cradling akande's face, kissing him ravenously, greedily, he can't get enough. ]

Fuck. Can we just. [ a ripple of magic finds his clothes gone, along with them any pretense of having come in here to patch up his dominant. he's reaching up, one hand smacking loudly into the lockers before he pulls lube out of thin air and thrusts it at him, not that he's actually sure he cares if akande uses it— ] Come on, come on.

[goldrighthand]

[he's not even cleaned off. there's still sweat on him, some blood- only so much of it his own. but the blood still in him is running hot, and normally, there'd only be so much of an outlet for it.

in the back of his mind, he considers how much this place, too, has 'trained' him - conditioned him for other physical acts than fighting. that part of him is quiet, though, here in the heat of the moment, pressing stephen up against the lockers and shamelessly groping him. the clothes fading just means he has more to access, a large hand not-quite-clawing at the other man's chest as he breaks to take in a quick breath of air.

he's smiling. the both of them are, he thinks. and akande himself laughs as well, quickly catching that lube and thumbing off the lid]

Impatient.

[again- the both of them are. but Stephen will feel only a brief pressure at his ass before akande's pressing an insistent lube-coated finger in, not planning on drawing his stretching out any more than he has to. not when his dick is hard between his legs, tenting the fabric of his pants demandingly]

[sorserer]

[ stephen makes another low choked noise as akande's finger pushes into him. god, but he loves those fucking hands; had anticipated, maybe even craved, how eventually his body learned to open up under him, the ache of the stretch sweet rather than strenuous.

he fists a hand behind akande's shoulder: he's easily limber enough to try and arch down, ride his finger already, just feel movement, friction. he's laughing, a little, winded, not from exertion but sheer roiling desire. ]

Have you met me?

[ stephen is patient, is the thing. terrifyingly immovable, implacable. it's only when akande is the only other person in the room that he isn't. ]

[goldrighthand]

Many times, or have you forgotten? [Once his finger presses in fully, he rubs his thumb against Stephen's perineum for good measure; a slight pinching gesture has him stimulating from both inside and out.] And I look forward to this one, and the next, and the next...

[And that sure is the next finger pushing in insistently]

[originallutece]

[First: an address texted, about a block away from where she needs him to be. Then:]

I require your immediate assistance.

I'll owe you a favor.

[goldrighthand]

[Interesting. He almost asks if he should bring the gauntlet, then decides she'd bring it up if it was needed.

As it is, there's the read receipt, and soon after he's arriving at the location and sending a text;]

Here.

[originallutece]

[She waits just a few seconds, not to annoy but to verify he's alone, before stepping out of the shadows. Dressed in a dark tanktop and leggings, sweat shines on her skin, her hair sticking to her here and there. There's traces of blood on her skin, enormously on her clothes, though it's hard to tell in the evening.]

I need an expert eye to ensure there's no evidence left.

[She says it simply, and then turns, expecting he'll follow. She leads him to a warehouse (and for someone like him, maybe he'll notice how there's no echo when they walk in, how Rosalind has soundproofed the place to the best of her ability, how there's locks on all the windows and doors, how she'd prepared for this). The scent of blood is thick in the air, and there's a suspiciously clean knife on the floor, along with some rope. It's not rough, but rather smooth, the type that might be bought for some kind of shibari.

But the place is clean. She's almost certain all the blood is gone. Just the knife and the rope, which she'll take, and her own clothes, which she'll burn.]

[goldrighthand]

[...........well.

Honestly, the blood is reassuring; were it not for the sign she's already killed, his wariness would be skyrocketing as they step in to the warehuse. It's prime ambush territory, which she appears to have already taken advantage of; still, he's no fool. She might notice some tension in his form, however subtle it is, as he sweeps it with his gaze before moving forwards to investigate.]

Tell me about the method.

[This isn't a matter of being bloodthirsty. This is knowledge that different types leave different evidence splatters; he's worked with lawyers enough to know that certain things must be accounted for in a court of law.

...The memory of such realizes he misses having People for this kind of thing. He'll have to start being more proactive about accumulating them.]

text ☆ reliant

[roughlove]

Hey bossman.

I didn't get around to asking, but are you down with all the freaky sex shit this place has got going on.

If yes, I wanna tap you in and ask you to do me the favor of riding my submissive so hard he forgets how to talk. He's a slut for all the actual submissive stuff and, uh.

No offense but you look one of those guys who's all straight laces in the streets and horse races in the sheets.

-ogundimu

[goldrighthand]

You don't fool around, do you?

To answer your question - I am far more used to this sort of thing happening behind closed doors, but I am no stranger to certain aspects.

I will admit this is the first time I've been asked to fuck someone else.

Who is it?

[roughlove]

Not even a little bit. And, hey, glad I could be the first for somethin'.

Guy is Julian Devorak. Filthy as fuck but pretty as a prince, the light of my life and literal best lay I've ever had.

text.

[sorserer]

I received notice in the mail, as I'm sure you must have. Our contract is set to expire soon.

[goldrighthand]

I did.

Have you enjoyed [okay no that's too crude. backspace, try again] been satisfied these past few months?

[sorserer]

[ a thoughtful pause. ]

You've done what I asked and then some.

[ it's as much an admission of debt as stephen can muster. fort harmony had been—an assault on stephen's dignity, his sense of self-possession. he's still raw, a cat that skulked off to lick his wounds in private.

meanwhile akande isn't his friend, not quite a lover, but he's been dependable. stephen has needed dependable lately, more than he can say. ]

I haven't had much occasion to be dissatisfied.

How about you?

text; un: azúcar

[clandestina]

a little bird told me a man with a big fist runs a place on the bad side of town

un; ogundimu

[goldrighthand]

I rather enjoy that side of town.

When did you arrive?

[clandestina]

oh... a while back. just laying low, learning the city. things been kinda loco. yknow. but looks like you got yourself in a good spot.