perfect you can ask it now or when you meet me here.
[He sends an address in the Down, a few blocks from the theatre. A general use building with rentable rooms meant more for small businesses or office spaces or work studios, as desired, if Oli goes looking.]
you're lucky i like you and have already figured out some of nate's portal system bc i really hate walking
( and he's up top right now, but thankfully, nate's system of scary clown paintings was pretty easy to figure out once it was pointed out to him. so it takes him a bit of time to walk to the closest gateway, then some time to walk from the theatre to the building, but he makes it and
aside from some bruising around his neck and some minor cuts over the visible lower half of his back (thank you nick's closet full of crop tops), oliver looks fine. he stops out front, squinting at the front of the building.
[Says the man who lies half the time and is working on getting a motorcycle, but still. Walking was How it Was Done.
The building, for it's part, is non-descript, it's meant for whoever could rent space. Chris' space is hardly premium, he doesn't make that kind of money, but it's big enough for his purposes. The door Oliver comes to is equally nothing, but it's unlocked if he tries the handle. The room beyond is anything but plain.
The space is decorated in shades of greys and greens with various forms of lighting available, although it's arranged for something more neutral right now with the brightest light being the opened curtains of the single window on the far wall. Between the door and that far wall is a wide open space filled and arranged with various tools and options for all kinds of kink desired from benches to a frame around the bed near the window and a frame filled with ropes and buckles meant for suspension. It took time and care and a pretty coin by the end, but there's little left out here as far as options, whether set up or stored at some of the long tables along the right hand wall which also hold their fair share of storage for various toys and tools.
For now, Nothing specific is set up, if anything, Chris has two glasses out and a bottle of brandy set on a small table between two chairs under the window and no real expectations beyond company. It was just a good space to entertain company who might want any number of things. He stands when Oliver arrives, his smile faltering as the daytime light catches those bruises around his neck.]
...are you alright? Whose got their hands so tight around your throat?
[It could be nothing, just rough play, but he's already taken a few concerned steps in Oliver's direction, hands already itching to try and help.]
( he wasn't really expecting a sex dungeon, but oliver isn't exactly surprised either.
chris didn't seem like the sort, but he seemed comfortable enough with himself to have something like this if he really wanted it. which, clearly, he opted for. it's cute. it suits chris, the more he does think about it. he hadn't forgotten about the marks around his neck, there's a reason they're still there, but oliver just. lifts a hand up to press his hand against the side of his throat. wrinkles his nose, brows furrowing. when his head turns into the touch on his neck, black ink lettering etched into the white of his right eye becomes barely visible out of the inside corner. )
I'm fine. ( he could mention jessica's network post and the mess that came along with it but that feels like overkill. ) I tried to kill my dominant because he absolutely deserved it, he got the upper hand for a minute, but he's dead now anyway. Everything's done and over with, I feel way better than I look.
[His brows furrow together and now he is moving to Oliver's side to have a better look at the marks.]
Your dominant was Willim. Nick told me. We talked...bit about it. Thought you all were waiting out the clock on- [He shakes his head, not seemingly bothered by hearing the guy was head at all. Good was all he felt about it anyway.]
You want any healing? Least for any ache, if you want to keep the marks themselves for a reason.
[The rest of the room might as well not matter for the healer's eye now on Oliver.]
Nick's already given me a once-over. The rest of this is mostly magic, and the shit I did to myself. Also magic, kind of fucked up magic so it's not going to heal easy. But thanks.
( he'll let chris look all he wants. oliver turns his attention to the rest of the room instead, gesturing out towards--whatever chris has laying around. the bench. )
[Chris nods and lets his hand drop a bit. Nick wouldn't have done anything less than all he could, he was sure of that. His eyes dart from the marks to Oliver's face, half looking for any sort of sign he wasn't as ok as he was acting...but looks around when asked about the room.]
Oh, ah...if you wanted. Invited you over half to show you I had a kinky room to use, if ever you wanted, and half just for your company. What we did with that company I held no expectations, this place is just private and quiet and comfortable enough when what company I have to my house is limited.
Your dom not into walking into your sex exploitations?
( he's fine--or as fine as he's going to be. physically, oliver's still put together, just a little marked. nothing he can't ignore, except he's still grumpy as fuck about how all of it went down. how he was unable to take out william on his own. how nick, who hates violence, had to get involved.
[Chris moves back towards the small table and the chairs set around them, one overly wide and cushy and the other straight-backed and narrower. He ignores both in favor of pouring some of the brandy into the glasses.]
My dom is...there's a word...A-sexual? He's not into walking into anything I might be into, so I keep it from home.
[He returns and offers one of the glasses, chilled by his touch, to Oliver.]
And usually bend people over it with ties and fuck them, but I'm sure there's other creative uses for it.
( oliver takes the glass in hand, looks down to it. he's usually into alcohol enough to down it even if he hates the burn at the back of his throat, was planning on drinking chris' offering down, too; his week has started off shitty enough to justify breaking rules he set for no other reason than to support nick, he's broken the rules before, but that was for fun. not because he was grumpy.
so he just. holds onto it. raises it to his lips but doesn't sip out of it. )
Usually I'd be all over this, ( a gesture with his free hand around chris' place. ) no questions asked. Hell, I kind of want to be right now too? But I'm in a shit enough mood that if things start getting intense, I might start taking out that shit mood on you without meaning to. So, definitely rain check for the bench.
[Which was an understatement, but he has no interest in delving into the strife of two people he loves most here. It's not the time and it's not really his place.
He takes a sip of his own drink and cocks his head as he listens. That was fair.]
Alright. Raincheck. We can do something else if you'd like to take some of that mood out, rough sex is rough sex. Or, if there's anything here that might help put you at ease, we could do that...so long as that shit mood doesn't turn to you looking to me to hurt you for something in your head.
Or- [He takes another sip and moves to cup a hand under Oliver's elbow.] We could do none of the above. Bed and that bigger chair's cozy as is.
Receiving pain isn't a kink I'm into. I don't mind giving it if someone else likes it, but others hurting me is a hard no. Like. Even when I feel like garbage. ( just an fyi. not that he thinks chris would ever try shit without talking about it first considering how much talking they've already done, but. may as well make it clear while they're currently talking about it. ) Bites and scratch marks where my clothes'll cover is fine for you though.
( which is also something he'd usually bitch about, if someone didn't ask first. but he's giving chris blanket permission. because he likes him. eyes move down to where chris' hand is pressing against his elbow, focuses there for a moment before raising back up to his face. )
Do you know anyone else around here with wings? White ones. Big, six of them.
[He nods.] Heard that, no pain but maybe bites and scratches.
[He liked pain but only occasionally offered it to others anyway, but knowing it was off the table is comfortable. Hard limits were good to have.
He thinks a moment, but it's likely clear in his expression he doesn't as he searches his memory for anyone with wings that he knew of still in the city. After a moment, he shakes his head and meets Oliver's gaze.]
None that I know with that number and none left in the city with wings to my knowledge. Why?
( how to approach this without it sounding weird as fuck. he has a picture, but that might be a little more graphic than he really wants to get here. )
Sometime before the last time I came by and William keeling over, he added a display to the living room. Wings, feathery and a little bloody. I'm not sure where he got them or if whoever or whatever he got them off of might want them back or not.
( and since william's dead, it's not like he can ask him. )
[Chris confusion only grows and he takes half a step back as a hand comes up to rub at his chin in thought.]
I...hmm...obvious sign is he took them off someone or something, but my guess would be the former since I've been here over a year, all told, and never seen a thing with wings like that.
[Which...the implication of that makes his own back ache and it was hardly the same. Someone could try to rip his wings off, but so long as he could concentrate long enough to break the connection, he could dispel them with a thought and they'd be right again next he'd cast them. It'd hurt like nothing else, but it'd be fixable. This...
He moves back to the table to set his glass down and buy himself a moment to think through his spells.]
I...I think I can find out who they might belong to, though. And I might even be able to reattach them in the healing.
[He turns back to look at Oliver, determination sharp in his eyes.]
I'll need a hand on those wings, though and I can't do it any sooner than tomorrow.
Not like I'm in any rush for it. They're just there, if William comes back it won't be for a good few weeks. I'm just clearing out his crap.
( the creepy shit at least. the booze, money, and good decor can stay until oliver has enough time to move all of it to pierce's place. oliver takes several steps forward, puts his own glass down next to chris' own, so he can raise his hand up and press it against chris' chest, leaning into him. )
You're having a shit day. What do you do for stress relief?
You might not be, but if the person missing those wings loves flying as I do, I'm sure they're in a bind enough.
[He didn't take on other people's problems who weren't his people, usually...but he had more than a bit of empathy for what losing that freedom would feel like.
There wasn't much for it right now, though, he'd need to pray at dawn to get the spells he'd need.
For now, he puts a hand over Oliver's, head tilting in thought.]
Flying, the beach, sex, booze, sparring, sometimes a trusted lap to crash in if it's really bad. Some combination of any of those, depending.
[He brings his other hand up to pet through Oliver's hair.]
Knowing you don't even like to walk, no sparring...you didn't touch your drink so no booze...?
I usually drink. I don't like the taste, but I like the high. But Nick's trying to cut out the booze, so I'm cutting it out to support him.
( he likes sweet drinks. the ones that taste good, that don't burn going down. just not right now. now, he's tipping his head up, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of chris' jawline. )
Flying feels a little misplaced given the crap sitting in my apartment. Beach is great, except I hate getting sand in my clothes. ( sand is messier than he likes to put up with. so oliver just. purses his lips. thinks for a moment. ) You mind being my stress relief for a minute?
[Chris makes an 'ah' face at the explanation. Fair enough even if, frankly, he wasn't sure how good Nick would end up being at that. He could be supportive in his doubt.
Besides, a kiss is far nicer.
He leans in to press one to Oliver's forehead in response.]
I don't mind at all: you're attractive, I like you, and I like your head on straight all the more. What would you like?
( what he wants to do is wrap his fingers around someone's neck, to push shit way too far, to throw out all the aggression and anger he's holding onto in a way that won't cause too much damage. unfortunately, he can't think of a good way to do that: oliver isn't great with throwing punches, his form of fighting is a lot more--deadly.
and he doesn't want to kill or seriously maim chris so. he presses his lips together, leans back from chris enough that he can get to his knees in front of him and moves to pull at the front of his pants. )
[There's something in that press of lips that has Chris wanting to press, but he hesitates.
Certainly long enough Oliver's already on his knees and that's enticing enough, he puts a hand in his hair.]
Can I make a counter offer? Cause, you mentioned being in a bad mood and, were it me, I'd want some feeling of control back. I know we talked some about this, so let me offer some to you?
( rude of chris to turn conversations they had for chris back around on oliver, but it's whatever. he stops with fingers wrapped around the zip, head tipping back to look up to him. )
What are you thinking? ( getting someone off and controlling when they come is pretty close to that control he's looking for, but oliver isn't going to turn down brainstorming. )
[He pets through that lovely hair, head tilting as Chris considers him.]
I'm quite the fan of having my mouth fucked, I can hold my breath a long time, and I've not practiced out my gag-reflex for nothing, so you could be rough. Any harm you might accidentally cause can be healed. I don't just fly, you know.
[His fingers turn a little tighter in Oliver's hair and he slips down to one knee to lean in close, the fingers of his other hand coming up under the other man's chin.]
But you get to go hard, decide how you want to use me, whether I swallow or you come on my face, when I'm allowed to breath..?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Text; un: Ravens
no subject
but good timing, i have a question for you
no subject
[He sends an address in the Down, a few blocks from the theatre. A general use building with rentable rooms meant more for small businesses or office spaces or work studios, as desired, if Oli goes looking.]
no subject
( and he's up top right now, but thankfully, nate's system of scary clown paintings was pretty easy to figure out once it was pointed out to him. so it takes him a bit of time to walk to the closest gateway, then some time to walk from the theatre to the building, but he makes it and
aside from some bruising around his neck and some minor cuts over the visible lower half of his back (thank you nick's closet full of crop tops), oliver looks fine. he stops out front, squinting at the front of the building.
to figure out if it's suspicious or not. )
no subject
[Says the man who lies half the time and is working on getting a motorcycle, but still. Walking was How it Was Done.
The building, for it's part, is non-descript, it's meant for whoever could rent space. Chris' space is hardly premium, he doesn't make that kind of money, but it's big enough for his purposes. The door Oliver comes to is equally nothing, but it's unlocked if he tries the handle. The room beyond is anything but plain.
The space is decorated in shades of greys and greens with various forms of lighting available, although it's arranged for something more neutral right now with the brightest light being the opened curtains of the single window on the far wall. Between the door and that far wall is a wide open space filled and arranged with various tools and options for all kinds of kink desired from benches to a frame around the bed near the window and a frame filled with ropes and buckles meant for suspension. It took time and care and a pretty coin by the end, but there's little left out here as far as options, whether set up or stored at some of the long tables along the right hand wall which also hold their fair share of storage for various toys and tools.
For now, Nothing specific is set up, if anything, Chris has two glasses out and a bottle of brandy set on a small table between two chairs under the window and no real expectations beyond company. It was just a good space to entertain company who might want any number of things. He stands when Oliver arrives, his smile faltering as the daytime light catches those bruises around his neck.]
...are you alright? Whose got their hands so tight around your throat?
[It could be nothing, just rough play, but he's already taken a few concerned steps in Oliver's direction, hands already itching to try and help.]
no subject
chris didn't seem like the sort, but he seemed comfortable enough with himself to have something like this if he really wanted it. which, clearly, he opted for. it's cute. it suits chris, the more he does think about it. he hadn't forgotten about the marks around his neck, there's a reason they're still there, but oliver just. lifts a hand up to press his hand against the side of his throat. wrinkles his nose, brows furrowing. when his head turns into the touch on his neck, black ink lettering etched into the white of his right eye becomes barely visible out of the inside corner. )
I'm fine. ( he could mention jessica's network post and the mess that came along with it but that feels like overkill. ) I tried to kill my dominant because he absolutely deserved it, he got the upper hand for a minute, but he's dead now anyway. Everything's done and over with, I feel way better than I look.
no subject
Your dominant was Willim. Nick told me. We talked...bit about it. Thought you all were waiting out the clock on- [He shakes his head, not seemingly bothered by hearing the guy was head at all. Good was all he felt about it anyway.]
You want any healing? Least for any ache, if you want to keep the marks themselves for a reason.
[The rest of the room might as well not matter for the healer's eye now on Oliver.]
no subject
( he'll let chris look all he wants. oliver turns his attention to the rest of the room instead, gesturing out towards--whatever chris has laying around. the bench. )
You invite me over for some kinky fun?
no subject
Oh, ah...if you wanted. Invited you over half to show you I had a kinky room to use, if ever you wanted, and half just for your company. What we did with that company I held no expectations, this place is just private and quiet and comfortable enough when what company I have to my house is limited.
no subject
( he's fine--or as fine as he's going to be. physically, oliver's still put together, just a little marked. nothing he can't ignore, except he's still grumpy as fuck about how all of it went down. how he was unable to take out william on his own. how nick, who hates violence, had to get involved.
it pisses him off more than he wants to admit. )
What do you use the bench for?
no subject
My dom is...there's a word...A-sexual? He's not into walking into anything I might be into, so I keep it from home.
[He returns and offers one of the glasses, chilled by his touch, to Oliver.]
And usually bend people over it with ties and fuck them, but I'm sure there's other creative uses for it.
no subject
( oliver takes the glass in hand, looks down to it. he's usually into alcohol enough to down it even if he hates the burn at the back of his throat, was planning on drinking chris' offering down, too; his week has started off shitty enough to justify breaking rules he set for no other reason than to support nick, he's broken the rules before, but that was for fun. not because he was grumpy.
so he just. holds onto it. raises it to his lips but doesn't sip out of it. )
Usually I'd be all over this, ( a gesture with his free hand around chris' place. ) no questions asked. Hell, I kind of want to be right now too? But I'm in a shit enough mood that if things start getting intense, I might start taking out that shit mood on you without meaning to. So, definitely rain check for the bench.
no subject
[Which was an understatement, but he has no interest in delving into the strife of two people he loves most here. It's not the time and it's not really his place.
He takes a sip of his own drink and cocks his head as he listens. That was fair.]
Alright. Raincheck. We can do something else if you'd like to take some of that mood out, rough sex is rough sex. Or, if there's anything here that might help put you at ease, we could do that...so long as that shit mood doesn't turn to you looking to me to hurt you for something in your head.
Or- [He takes another sip and moves to cup a hand under Oliver's elbow.] We could do none of the above. Bed and that bigger chair's cozy as is.
So what do you need?
no subject
( which is also something he'd usually bitch about, if someone didn't ask first. but he's giving chris blanket permission. because he likes him. eyes move down to where chris' hand is pressing against his elbow, focuses there for a moment before raising back up to his face. )
Do you know anyone else around here with wings? White ones. Big, six of them.
no subject
[He liked pain but only occasionally offered it to others anyway, but knowing it was off the table is comfortable. Hard limits were good to have.
He thinks a moment, but it's likely clear in his expression he doesn't as he searches his memory for anyone with wings that he knew of still in the city. After a moment, he shakes his head and meets Oliver's gaze.]
None that I know with that number and none left in the city with wings to my knowledge. Why?
no subject
Sometime before the last time I came by and William keeling over, he added a display to the living room. Wings, feathery and a little bloody. I'm not sure where he got them or if whoever or whatever he got them off of might want them back or not.
( and since william's dead, it's not like he can ask him. )
no subject
I...hmm...obvious sign is he took them off someone or something, but my guess would be the former since I've been here over a year, all told, and never seen a thing with wings like that.
[Which...the implication of that makes his own back ache and it was hardly the same. Someone could try to rip his wings off, but so long as he could concentrate long enough to break the connection, he could dispel them with a thought and they'd be right again next he'd cast them. It'd hurt like nothing else, but it'd be fixable. This...
He moves back to the table to set his glass down and buy himself a moment to think through his spells.]
I...I think I can find out who they might belong to, though. And I might even be able to reattach them in the healing.
[He turns back to look at Oliver, determination sharp in his eyes.]
I'll need a hand on those wings, though and I can't do it any sooner than tomorrow.
no subject
( the creepy shit at least. the booze, money, and good decor can stay until oliver has enough time to move all of it to pierce's place. oliver takes several steps forward, puts his own glass down next to chris' own, so he can raise his hand up and press it against chris' chest, leaning into him. )
You're having a shit day. What do you do for stress relief?
no subject
[He didn't take on other people's problems who weren't his people, usually...but he had more than a bit of empathy for what losing that freedom would feel like.
There wasn't much for it right now, though, he'd need to pray at dawn to get the spells he'd need.
For now, he puts a hand over Oliver's, head tilting in thought.]
Flying, the beach, sex, booze, sparring, sometimes a trusted lap to crash in if it's really bad. Some combination of any of those, depending.
[He brings his other hand up to pet through Oliver's hair.]
Knowing you don't even like to walk, no sparring...you didn't touch your drink so no booze...?
no subject
( he likes sweet drinks. the ones that taste good, that don't burn going down. just not right now. now, he's tipping his head up, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of chris' jawline. )
Flying feels a little misplaced given the crap sitting in my apartment. Beach is great, except I hate getting sand in my clothes. ( sand is messier than he likes to put up with. so oliver just. purses his lips. thinks for a moment. ) You mind being my stress relief for a minute?
no subject
Besides, a kiss is far nicer.
He leans in to press one to Oliver's forehead in response.]
I don't mind at all: you're attractive, I like you, and I like your head on straight all the more. What would you like?
no subject
and he doesn't want to kill or seriously maim chris so. he presses his lips together, leans back from chris enough that he can get to his knees in front of him and moves to pull at the front of his pants. )
Let me blow you.
no subject
Certainly long enough Oliver's already on his knees and that's enticing enough, he puts a hand in his hair.]
Can I make a counter offer? Cause, you mentioned being in a bad mood and, were it me, I'd want some feeling of control back. I know we talked some about this, so let me offer some to you?
no subject
What are you thinking? ( getting someone off and controlling when they come is pretty close to that control he's looking for, but oliver isn't going to turn down brainstorming. )
no subject
I'm quite the fan of having my mouth fucked, I can hold my breath a long time, and I've not practiced out my gag-reflex for nothing, so you could be rough. Any harm you might accidentally cause can be healed. I don't just fly, you know.
[His fingers turn a little tighter in Oliver's hair and he slips down to one knee to lean in close, the fingers of his other hand coming up under the other man's chin.]
But you get to go hard, decide how you want to use me, whether I swallow or you come on my face, when I'm allowed to breath..?