Siren Song

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

Steering Linse’s attention back away from the rest of the world, and the nearly maimed bartender, was about as easy as he’d expected it to be. If not just by voice but action as well, it was difficult to ignore physical direction, but in that situation also a legitimate risk of losing a body part if it irked him too much. That didn’t seem to be the case, but less than five minutes ago Linse also seemed fairly human and not armed with a set of jaws that put most nightmares to shame, so nothing was ever really a certainty.

“Well, I can’t say it’s not a little…unexpected. Anyone would be a bit…ah…nervous at the sight of those.” He admitted with a chuckle, lightening the moment just a hint. “Lots of people in the city have sharp teeth though, you stick around long enough you see all sorts of interesting things.”

He wasn’t human himself, at times it was hard to judge others when you tucked away all of your own little secrets under false skin. And just as much it was the terrible affliction of his ego’s reassurance that he could handle most anything, or anyone, life threw into his path. Those teeth hadn’t been barred at him after all.

Either Linse had no idea just how brazen his actions were or he knew exactly that and Everett couldn’t decide which he hoped was more true. In the end it didn’t matter, very little did when he felt that almost nip and, truth be told, he was just a little hesitant to get too close to those teeth with someone he had just met but it was a null argument from his brain when the rest of him was perfectly fine with the prospects of sacrificing a finger or two.

It was all about perspective really, and right then his view was full on gorgeous monster with a sweet smile and hungry eyes. Hopefully not the wrong sort of hungry, but Everett was banking somewhat on luck and the Gods of overly eager libidos to be on his side that evening. When weren’t they, honestly?

That pleasant twitch in the pit of his stomach, he distantly wondered why the question even was one; after that he might have followed Linse to some dark corner even with the certainty of losing a hand. But he wasn’t going to look too eager about some time away from the crowd with the pretty creature, he had an image to keep after all. So he waited a moment before picking up his drink to follow, admiring the view during the short trek. If admiration was as far as he was bound to get that evening he wasn’t going to be entirely disappointed.

Maybe just a little.

His brow knitted in almost-humor at the sight of the other nearly gulping down water, hands clinging and eyes seeming wider with the satisfaction of it; how could someone so distracting a moment before look so adorable the next? Razor jaws and all, it was baffling how a warm spot hit him when he watched Linse with that pitcher. He chuckled at the thought as he sank into the seat next to him and shifted sideways to face him and put a shoulder to block out the other people around them.

He wanted Linse’s attention all to himself, he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“For someone who doesn’t speak you’re very talkative,” he mused with a curl of his fingers as he turned his palm upward. his eyes lingered on the other’s face. “You don’t have to say everything, Lovely, there’s plenty I can read just fine just watching the way you move and those pretty eyes.”

There might be many in the city with fangs, but Linse was sure there was no one quite like him. After all, he was the only siren who had volunteered to leave the freedom of the sea in favor of walking the dry land beneath it. It was a decision he regretted some days. The days when he struggled to communicate without his voice, the days when this fragile human skin itched and ached in the dryness of the open air, the days when he spent long hours undergoing the testing that was one of the conditions for his residency, the days when the artificial flesh he fed on sat cold and dead in his stomach in pale reminder of the decadent taste of hot coppery blood mixed with the salty sea: all of these days made him long for the boundless depths of the sea outside and the freedom of moving in his true form.

But the sea outside did not have the man looking at him with hungry eyes, who touched him with hands that kindled a warm hunger of his own inside the siren. And though it was far different than everything he had known before, Linse was excited to see just where it would end up. Something in him said it would be well worth every uncomfortable day spent on two legs so far.

The siren shifted in his seat after Everett found a space beside him, Linse moving to close what little gap was left between them so that a warm point of contact opened up where his thigh pressed against the other man’s in a line of heat nearly from hip to knee. The siren curled a finger around Everett’s wrist, pulling so his hand rested palm up on the firmness of Linse’s thigh. Almost shyly he slid his fingers up the smoothness of his forearm until they pooled in the cup of his palm, his own resting comfortably against Everett’s wrist.

|| I’m usually quite vocal. || Linse replied, eyes crinkling with a playfully coy smile, as if he wasn’t half distracted by the feel of Everett’s skin beneath his finger as he traced out the words. || Maybe I’ll show you sometime. ||

Linse studies the other man’s face, drinking in the alluring line of his jaw, the clever glint in his eyes, the expressiveness of those dark brows. Pressed together in the low light of the club, this was as close as he’d gotten to someone of another species while in this form. At one point the siren had worried the hunger and instinct of his predatory nature would rule within him even in his shape. Sitting here, there was instinct and hunger that rose in the pit of his stomach, but it was of an entirely different kind.  

He watched as Everett spoke, finding his gaze drawn back to the curve of his lips where he could catch quick glimpses of that tempting tongue. Confusion. Curiosity. What was it that this body wanted from that tongue, that merely the teasing sight of it would arouse such a response in him?

His attention dropped down to the hand that lay open and relaxed, palm up beneath his own. Long fingers, short dark nails, delicate creases that spread like a roadmap beneath his fingertips. This hand had touched him twice, brief moments of skin against skin but still his body sang with it, as if he were a harp whose strings Everett’s fingers were barely starting to play along. Slowly, reverently, Linse slid his fingers along Everett’s palm until they found the spaces between the man’s own digits and slotted neatly between them in a tangle of warm skin and nerves.

Heat flushed through the siren and he quickly withdrew his hand to once again clutch at the pitcher in his lap, lifting it to greedily gulp down more of the cooling contents within. Maybe he was overheated after dancing? And his heart was fluttering from the earlier effort and the thrill of confrontation with the bartender.

Linse continued drinking deeply as he considered this, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of cool water rushing over his tongue. What was happening? What was the cause behind all of these new sensations that were so out of season for the siren?

As he drank he eyeballed Everett where the other man sat beside him. He was pretty sure he knew the cause behind all of these new sensations. That cause that was eyeing him back from over the rim of the pitcher, with sea glass colored eyes Linse could see his own strange hunger echoed in.

In his hands the pitcher grew lighter and lighter, until he relinquished it empty to the table, tongue chasing the last hints of moisture that still lingered on his lips. Feeling flustered but bold, he snagged the glass of liquor from beside his abandoned pitcher and took a reckless sip from the edge.

Mistake.

Burning heat flooded his tongue and shot up through his sinuses in a rush of eye watering fire that made Linse gasp and cough, the siren leaning into the firmness of Everett’s body beside him. Still coughing and blinking back tears, he was happy to relinquish the offending glass when it was gently tugged from his hand. Covering his mouth as he fought to drag air back down his burning throat, he reached out with his free hand to find Everett’s leg against his own.

|| You drink that? || He signed against Everett’s thigh, twisting to peer up at Everett with disbelief through eyes wet with tears. || How?? ||

They were close enough now that even in low light Linse could see the individual lashes that curled dark against Everett’s skin. It was hard to breathe for an entirely different reason now. The siren’s eyes widened, the hand cupped over his mouth slowly dropping away and coming to rest in his lap. Brought to stillness with unexpected anticipation Linse breathed, and he yearned.

[serpntsmile]

“That, and all manner of other vile, posionous things,” he chuckled and found the reaction not at all surprising; whatever Linse was, it was certainly not anything familiar to typical vices. “They’re terribly bad for me but, like most bad things, the more you indulge the more you want to. Until you forget they were bad at all and miss them when you’re denied.” He was nothing, by his own admission, if not a hedonist by design.

Maybe that was too new to the strange creature staring at him with only mild understanding of why, maybe it was in some way unfair; Everett was cautious but never so much so that he lost sight of possibility. And the possibilities for that night were warm and luring, peppered a bit more by the exotic risk of sharp teeth and murky-water glances. Pretty little thing, monster; but who wasn’t in some way or another?

But Everett abhorred the expected, even when the expectation was all large eyes and baited breath he could all but see Linse holding somewhere deep inside whatever mysterious design made up their insides; anymore Everett couldn’t pretend he really knew if those were even the same as his own.

Well, he could venture a fair guess that at least some parts were not, if Linse was at all the image they showed outwardly, but who really knew about those things and it was a conversation for, hopefully, just a bit later.

“You can’t stare me down with that look and expect me not to think there’s more than the burn of alcohol on your mind,” he pointed out in playful chiding and lifted a hand with slender fingers to Linse’s chin to tip it to an incline, noting the marble-solid fine lines that it cut, offering more room for the tilt of his own when he quelled that bright-eyed stare with a simple press of lips to the the curve of pale throat for a fleeting instant. That was all he needed to learn a great deal; the temperature of skin, the strange subtle ocean-twinge to it, something wholly not human and fascinating.

It was a tricked learned from vampires, as Everett didn’t descriminate in the company he kept, but not for want of blood in his case but chasing a reaction, risky as it may have been to toy with the intetests of that pretty monster. Very few things stirred a person more than the distraction they didn’t expect. Everett had confidence though, could scent the none too subtle flare of arousal when he licked his lips, silly that it was that snakes had to taste the air to learn such things, so he doubted it was those teeth that he was likely to earn for the gesture.

Anything else he was more than happy to entertain; there happened to be at least few parts of Linse that his mind kept returning to with nagging certainty that they might just be very entertaining indeed, if the lovely nightmare were more curious than perplexed by the attention Everett was willing to devote the night to showing them.

[linsethalassa]

Linse was not sure what it was they’d been silently asking for with the wideness of their eyes and anticipatory parting of their lips. They were acting out of this body’s instinct more so than out of any experience. After all, given the differences between this body’s anatomy and their finned form, Linse suspected with some confidence that courting and mating habits were quite dissimilar to what they knew. Not that they knew much, the flood of hormones blurring their memories of breeding season into little more than vague impressions of scales, teeth, clawed hands, and blood.

The soft touch of fingers to their chin brought Linse’ attention back from the watery depths of memory. A tip of the head, a turn of their chin, and suddenly the siren could think only of the vulnerable length of throat they left exposed. They tensed with instinct before the soft drag of lips against their exposed neck lit their nerves alight with desire.

Yes, this was definitely going to be different.

That teasing touch of skin and beard and hot breath drew a needy gasp from the siren. The hand still resting on Everett’s thigh fluttered, a siren’s silent sound of pleasure tracing sharp nails against firm muscle. Those lips pulled away after far too short of a moment, and instinctively Linse chased after them, leaning forward into the curve of Everett’s body before they caught themself and stilled, blinking up at the man with eyes blown black with this alien sensation of want.

They needed to be closer, to press this pulsing, aching need between their thighs against the warmth of Everett’s body. With a nimble slide of slender limbs, Linse moved and settled in Everett’s lap. Strong thighs bracketed his hips and their pale forearms came up to rest against the span of his shoulders, surrounding him and blocking out anything but the siren.

|| okay? || Linse pressed the word into Everett’s shoulder, echoed in the questioning tip of their head and quirk of dark brows.

What a novel sensation this was, to feel the firm press of another being between their thighs. For all of the challenges Linse had faced getting acquainted with having legs and the idea of moving them independently, they were now quite sure that being able to do this at least made up for a little of the troubles. Especially with the way the fabric of their trousers drew tight against that needy stiffness at the crux of their thighs, a pleasure that would easily border on discomfort before long.

Linse leaned in, close enough now to feel the warmth of Everett’s breath against their skin, to pick up the shades of green in the thin line of iris still visible around his blown pupils. It was a look the siren knew, a look they were intimately familiar with seeing on the faces of men right up until the moment the Singing stopped and the screaming began. But unlike all of those other men under the spell of the siren’s Song, Everett’s eyes were clear and present and cunning.

He wasn’t here because of Linse’s Song, he was here because he wanted to be. Because he wanted Linse.

|| say my name || they demanded, shifting to press closer to Everett, to feel the shape of the name in his breath against their skin.

Eyes dropping to the soft shape of his mouth, Linse paused, lifting a hand to trace the pad of a pale finger along the plush curve of his lower lip. Soft, warm, slightly damp from the flicker of that clever tongue, contrasted against the prickle of dark facial hair that framed those tempting lips. Linse exhaled a soft, tremulous breath of surprise at the sensation. Beards were so much softer when soaked in sea water and blood. But this was good too, adding to the collection of new sensations the siren greedily filed away in the depths of their memory. They would not be in this body forever, but they were determined to enjoy everything it had to offer.

They were close enough now that they could smell the lingering notes of the drink Everett had enjoyed, and that had sent their own body into sharp revolt. What was it he had said about indulging in bad things until you found yourself forgetting it was bad in the first place? Linse thought they were beginning to understand what he’d meant now, struck by the thought that they might enjoy the taste far more if it was sipped from the softness of Everett’s lips.

Head spinning with a heady sense of recklessness the siren shifted in Everett’s lap, strong thighs clenching hard around his hips as they twisted and leaned back to snag their previously abandoned drink. With the muscular flexibility of a creature used to rippling their body through the sea, Linse returned to their position in a flexing roll from hips to shoulders. It may not look it, but this slim human form held all the strength of that streamlined aquatic predator, a strength well put to use on stage at the private club Linse performed for.

Seduction wasn’t new to the siren, but wanting it was.

|| i don’t usually do this || Linse signed between them, dragging up one of Everett’s hands from where it had settled hot on their hip, to press the shapes of their words into the cup of his palm. Lips curling up into a hungry smile, they continued. || but I like it ||

They dipped a delicate index finger into the cool glass held between them and drew it out again, dripping in the smokey sweetness of the liquor. Staring at Everett from under thick lashes, they slowly licked up the length of their finger before dipping it between bowed lips and inside that nightmare filled mouth. Cheeks hollowing, Linse sucked the wetness from their skin, savoring the nuance of flavors this human tongue was able to experience. A crinkle of displeasure creased between dark brows at the sharp alcohol sting of the taste, and Linse released their finger from between their lips with a wet pop.The flavor was decidedly not much of an improvement than it was straight from the glass.

A soft pout drawing down the corners of their mouth, the siren glanced from the glass back up to Everett’s sea green eyes. That same finger dipped into the glass again, this time to be boldly dragged over the shape of Everett’s lips leaving behind a glossy sheen of wetness the siren couldn’t help but to stare at hungrilly. Arousal flaring hot through their body, Linse cupped the back of Everett’s head to hold him still, and leaned in to close the scant distance between them. The siren traced the seam of Everett’s lips with their tongue, chasing the lingering burn of the drink with a thrill. Theh drew back to savor the notes on their tongue, a shiver of pleasure tingling up their spine at the taste. Sea air, sunkissed stone, and dry scales that they knew to belong solely to Everett.

A sharp exhale of need escaped Linse’ lips. Dark eyes reflecting iridescent as they connected with Everett’s, the siren rocked their hips forward and signed one word in the space between them.

|| more ||

[fashionasfuck]

[byoswald-deactivated20210325]

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

Steering Linse’s attention back away from the rest of the world, and the nearly maimed bartender, was about as easy as he’d expected it to be. If not just by voice but action as well, it was difficult to ignore physical direction, but in that situation also a legitimate risk of losing a body part if it irked him too much. That didn’t seem to be the case, but less than five minutes ago Linse also seemed fairly human and not armed with a set of jaws that put most nightmares to shame, so nothing was ever really a certainty.

“Well, I can’t say it’s not a little…unexpected. Anyone would be a bit…ah…nervous at the sight of those.” He admitted with a chuckle, lightening the moment just a hint. “Lots of people in the city have sharp teeth though, you stick around long enough you see all sorts of interesting things.”

He wasn’t human himself, at times it was hard to judge others when you tucked away all of your own little secrets under false skin. And just as much it was the terrible affliction of his ego’s reassurance that he could handle most anything, or anyone, life threw into his path. Those teeth hadn’t been barred at him after all.

Either Linse had no idea just how brazen his actions were or he knew exactly that and Everett couldn’t decide which he hoped was more true. In the end it didn’t matter, very little did when he felt that almost nip and, truth be told, he was just a little hesitant to get too close to those teeth with someone he had just met but it was a null argument from his brain when the rest of him was perfectly fine with the prospects of sacrificing a finger or two.

It was all about perspective really, and right then his view was full on gorgeous monster with a sweet smile and hungry eyes. Hopefully not the wrong sort of hungry, but Everett was banking somewhat on luck and the Gods of overly eager libidos to be on his side that evening. When weren’t they, honestly?

That pleasant twitch in the pit of his stomach, he distantly wondered why the question even was one; after that he might have followed Linse to some dark corner even with the certainty of losing a hand. But he wasn’t going to look too eager about some time away from the crowd with the pretty creature, he had an image to keep after all. So he waited a moment before picking up his drink to follow, admiring the view during the short trek. If admiration was as far as he was bound to get that evening he wasn’t going to be entirely disappointed.

Maybe just a little.

His brow knitted in almost-humor at the sight of the other nearly gulping down water, hands clinging and eyes seeming wider with the satisfaction of it; how could someone so distracting a moment before look so adorable the next? Razor jaws and all, it was baffling how a warm spot hit him when he watched Linse with that pitcher. He chuckled at the thought as he sank into the seat next to him and shifted sideways to face him and put a shoulder to block out the other people around them.

He wanted Linse’s attention all to himself, he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“For someone who doesn’t speak you’re very talkative,” he mused with a curl of his fingers as he turned his palm upward. his eyes lingered on the other’s face. “You don’t have to say everything, Lovely, there’s plenty I can read just fine just watching the way you move and those pretty eyes.”

There might be many in the city with fangs, but Linse was sure there was no one quite like him. After all, he was the only siren who had volunteered to leave the freedom of the sea in favor of walking the dry land beneath it. It was a decision he regretted some days. The days when he struggled to communicate without his voice, the days when this fragile human skin itched and ached in the dryness of the open air, the days when he spent long hours undergoing the testing that was one of the conditions for his residency, the days when the artificial flesh he fed on sat cold and dead in his stomach in pale reminder of the decadent taste of hot coppery blood mixed with the salty sea: all of these days made him long for the boundless depths of the sea outside and the freedom of moving in his true form.

But the sea outside did not have the man looking at him with hungry eyes, who touched him with hands that kindled a warm hunger of his own inside the siren. And though it was far different than everything he had known before, Linse was excited to see just where it would end up. Something in him said it would be well worth every uncomfortable day spent on two legs so far.

The siren shifted in his seat after Everett found a space beside him, Linse moving to close what little gap was left between them so that a warm point of contact opened up where his thigh pressed against the other man’s in a line of heat nearly from hip to knee. The siren curled a finger around Everett’s wrist, pulling so his hand rested palm up on the firmness of Linse’s thigh. Almost shyly he slid his fingers up the smoothness of his forearm until they pooled in the cup of his palm, his own resting comfortably against Everett’s wrist.

|| I’m usually quite vocal. || Linse replied, eyes crinkling with a playfully coy smile, as if he wasn’t half distracted by the feel of Everett’s skin beneath his finger as he traced out the words. || Maybe I’ll show you sometime. ||

Linse studies the other man’s face, drinking in the alluring line of his jaw, the clever glint in his eyes, the expressiveness of those dark brows. Pressed together in the low light of the club, this was as close as he’d gotten to someone of another species while in this form. At one point the siren had worried the hunger and instinct of his predatory nature would rule within him even in his shape. Sitting here, there was instinct and hunger that rose in the pit of his stomach, but it was of an entirely different kind.  

He watched as Everett spoke, finding his gaze drawn back to the curve of his lips where he could catch quick glimpses of that tempting tongue. Confusion. Curiosity. What was it that this body wanted from that tongue, that merely the teasing sight of it would arouse such a response in him?

His attention dropped down to the hand that lay open and relaxed, palm up beneath his own. Long fingers, short dark nails, delicate creases that spread like a roadmap beneath his fingertips. This hand had touched him twice, brief moments of skin against skin but still his body sang with it, as if he were a harp whose strings Everett’s fingers were barely starting to play along. Slowly, reverently, Linse slid his fingers along Everett’s palm until they found the spaces between the man’s own digits and slotted neatly between them in a tangle of warm skin and nerves.

Heat flushed through the siren and he quickly withdrew his hand to once again clutch at the pitcher in his lap, lifting it to greedily gulp down more of the cooling contents within. Maybe he was overheated after dancing? And his heart was fluttering from the earlier effort and the thrill of confrontation with the bartender.

Linse continued drinking deeply as he considered this, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of cool water rushing over his tongue. What was happening? What was the cause behind all of these new sensations that were so out of season for the siren?

As he drank he eyeballed Everett where the other man sat beside him. He was pretty sure he knew the cause behind all of these new sensations. That cause that was eyeing him back from over the rim of the pitcher, with sea glass colored eyes Linse could see his own strange hunger echoed in.

In his hands the pitcher grew lighter and lighter, until he relinquished it empty to the table, tongue chasing the last hints of moisture that still lingered on his lips. Feeling flustered but bold, he snagged the glass of liquor from beside his abandoned pitcher and took a reckless sip from the edge.

Mistake.

Burning heat flooded his tongue and shot up through his sinuses in a rush of eye watering fire that made Linse gasp and cough, the siren leaning into the firmness of Everett’s body beside him. Still coughing and blinking back tears, he was happy to relinquish the offending glass when it was gently tugged from his hand. Covering his mouth as he fought to drag air back down his burning throat, he reached out with his free hand to find Everett’s leg against his own.

|| You drink that? || He signed against Everett’s thigh, twisting to peer up at Everett with disbelief through eyes wet with tears. || How?? ||

They were close enough now that even in low light Linse could see the individual lashes that curled dark against Everett’s skin. It was hard to breathe for an entirely different reason now. The siren’s eyes widened, the hand cupped over his mouth slowly dropping away and coming to rest in his lap. Brought to stillness with unexpected anticipation Linse breathed, and he yearned.

[moodb0ards]

mythology; sirens ~ she swore vengeance on all men with dark hearts

  request a moodboard

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

The words struck him as amusing, there were probably plenty of people who might have claimed the same with some truth to the idea. And he wasn’t going to deny it; Linse certainly had distraction on his side and that was a better weapon at times than most. A dangerous one though, if a person happened across the wrong people, but that was thankfully less of a common occurrence anymore there in the city; the idea of living in such closed confinement tended to weed out the people with unpleasant natures and skewed ideas about others. Very few ever wanted to see the surface again, it did wonders at making sure people minded their manners.

He laughed, there was an odd juxtaposition to Linse, his bold words one moment and shift in uncertain body language the next as though he were trying to work something out in his head while he was dug into the conversation. He couldn’t fault him for it, the story attached to a person was rarely a clear one to discover from the very start and most people came to the city with a slew of social issues from life above; running into stumbling signals was practically a given. It was just a matter of patience waiting for someone to sort themselves out and he was curious enough to see what happened.

“I’ve never been accused of being subtle,” Everett mused in reply, humor over the truth to the words. Subtle was the safety net some people clung to but he preferred to jump off the cliff; it made for a far better story even if it ended in a crash.

Before he could comment about the alcohol something surprising happened, and generally it took a fair amount to, self-entertaining dramatics aside, catch Everett off guard. But he hadn’t expected to go from one moment of conversation to the lack of space and sharp eagerness that surged from Linse.

“Whoa, easy,” he cautioned with the reflexive gesture of lifting a hand to steady him with the jolt. If that hand happened to fall just a bit low and more to the center than the side of Linse’s spine, well, he couldn’t help the impulse of reflex, could he.

It was short-lived as it was, hand drawn away as the other took that step back, still perplexing. The screen caught his attention, distracted him from the itch to reach that spot once more, the brush of warm skin under his palm was just short of madness in the denial of it after just barely having the experience. But, even so, Everett steeling his restraint and dropped his palm to the counter instead and noted distantly that he could feel the splintered furrows left there earlier.

The action caged Linse a bit on the one side but he was busy reading the words and overlooked that natural inclination to draw closer rather than away with the wordless urging from Linse. But the request was puzzling, not at all expected given the reaction but Everett knew better than to argue the logic when the lack of such was clearly working in his favor. In the realms of strange things to get worked up over it was probably one of the tamest, and oddly charming, ones he’d come across.

“If that’s what you want, I’m more than happy to spend the night saying it.” He couldn’t help the twinge of a smile, those eyes were enough to leave anyone undone and he had never come across such devastating intensity. Impressive, given his habit of enamoring himself with enough people to fitfully think there was little left in the city that could heat his blood that quickly. It was only fair to trade honesty in return; it was no uncertain terms from him and Everett didn’t think he could have been more obvious of his desires right then if he’d used that device to literally spell them out to Linse.

It was one occasion where his ego was entirely fine with being proven wrong.

Was it the accent? He had been too young to have picked up any of his father’s heavy Irish, and perhaps the hint of some Greek did sneak into his words from time to time but it had never been anything people seemed to note in their lists of reasons to gain his attention. He didn’t to overthink it, the notion tossed aside in favor of the moment at hand, or moreso…nearly in said hands.

Then the pretty creature staring at him with haunting eyes and baited breath jerked around and turned into an actual monster.

Brows shot up at those teeth, rows and rows of daggers that looked like they belonged in a horror movie. He’d never seen teeth like that; they were a nightmare, the sort sported by vicious, hungry creatures that lurked in the most terrifying dreams.

He regretted that earlier comment about eating people alive. With teeth like that Linse likely could have taken a chunk out of someone. It wasn’t really right to assume, of course, since he could kill with a bite himself but that hardly meant he would have. It was just the design to some things that were frightening, not always the intention. But he was a little shaken at the sight, a moment, before he recovered.

“Hey, I like your attention better over here, on me.” Everett was counting it as the second time that evening he’d saved the bartender’s life. “Linse, just ignore him.” It was a bold move to lift a hand to that tense jaw, knowing now that it very well could have been bitten off, and redirect his line of sight towards him. “You’re…quite surprising, aren’t you?”

It was hardly a question, more an observation, one of thinly veiled fascination. Everett liked to think he could take care of himself rather well in most any situation, was equipped by favorable biology to do so, it was a delightfully optimistic sort of delusional fearlessness. Besides, he was by no means going to come across anyone else that night nearly as intriguing as the beautiful, potentially deadly, creature before him.

Linse.

Again his name slipped honey sweet and sibilant from Everett’s tongue, calling the siren’s attention back as surely as the fingers that traced along his jaw did. Linse gave the bartender a last silent hiss of displeasure before letting the warm comfort of the hand cupping his cheek guide him back to face the other man once again. It was then he realized his mistake, catching sight of his reflection in the other’s eyes.

Oh no. Everett wasn’t supposed to see him like this, not yet, not when Linse still burned with need and the promise of how that warm palm had felt against the bare skin of his back. For the first time in a long while, the siren felt uncertainty creep sour into his belly. Linse knew the fear his teeth could strike, he’d be seriously worried for the person who ever caught a glimpse of what hid behind his lips and didn’t fear what those teeth could do to flesh. There was a good reason why he’d gone to such lengths to keep his mouth covered during the few times an uncontrollable smile parted his lips.  

Plush lips closed over the gaping maw of teeth, recomposing the illusion of beautiful innocence to hide the face of the monster. Prompted by the warm touch of Everett’s hand on his face Linse turned, his dark eyes searching the other man’s face, unsure of what he would find there. But those tantalizing lips hadn’t lost that faint curl of coy amusement, and his mesmerizing eyes still glittered with promises of bare skin and heated breath. The pulse Linse could feel thudding against his cheek was slow and steady, not at all the panicked race of fear the siren knew so intimately.

Linse raised a hand to cover the warm palm cupping his jaw before pulling it away and into the space between them.

|| You are not afraid? ||

This he traced into the soft plane of Everett’s palm, his fingertip dark against Everett’s skin. He went slowly, making clear shapes of the letter and finishing it off with a questioning look shot up at the taller man.

For a moment more he held Everett’s hand within his own, before bringing it back up to press against his cheek. Linse sooty lashes fluttered shut as he gently nuzzled his into the soft cradle of Everett’s fingers. It was something akin to an apology, a reassurance that the other needn’t fear seeing first hand what Linse’s teeth could do to flesh. Tentatively he shifted his head a little more, dragging the soft pillow of his lips up the line of Everett’s thumb in a tactile exploration of the warmth of his skin. He didn’t understand it, but somehow it was as if the heat of Everett’s skin sparked against his lips and raced south to burn low in his gut as an alluring hunger. The same kindling fire that the quick flicker of the other man’s split tongue had first lit. A fire Linse hoped he could feed.

The siren’s full lower lip caught on the pad of Everett’s thumb, lips parting again to expose just a peek of the multitude of pearlescent teeth within.

Linse paused there, his eyes flickering open to stare up at Everett. Carefully, he opened his mouth and drew the tip of his thumb inside, slipping against the shell-smooth front of his fangs to press delicately against the sharp points of his teeth. Linse’s tongue flicked over the sensitive pad in a curious drag of wet heat before the siren pulled himself together and drew back, releasing Everett’s hand somewhat reluctantly.

He could feel a curious heat warming his cheeks, his heart beating a little harder in his chest. Fingers feeling thick and clumsy in his distraction, it took him a couple tries before he’d spelled things close enough to correct to show Everett.

|| Do you want to sit with me? || With a questioning quirk of a dark brow, he gestured first to their drinks and then to one of the few unoccupied tables scattered around the darkened edges of the club. Barely waiting for an answer, Linse stowed his phone and grabbed both his pitcher of water and one of the two boozy drinks. He turned, cast a look at Everett from over his shoulder to make sure he was following, and set out to weave his way through the pockets of people and furniture toward his targeted table. And if he walked over to the table with a little more sway to his hips than usual, who could blame him?

The one in question was a semicircular booth curved around a low table that already bore a few drinks abandoned by previous occupants. Linse nudged a few glasses to clear enough space for his small glass of liquor, and slid onto the plush curved bench clutching his pitcher. It was heavy enough that the siren curled both hands around the condensation slicked surface for better grip, and large enough that as the cool water touched his lips he could just barely watch Everett over the top curve of the rim. Body singing with relief, Linse gulped down nearly half of the pitcher before coming up for air, the siren dropping the pitcher back down into his lap as his tongue flicked out to catch any stray drops of water that might still linger on his lips.

He watched as the other man slid onto the bench beside him. Admittedly eager to continue the teasingly small points of contact between them, Linse dragged a finger along the back of Everett’s closest hand before tracing that same finger over his own palm in pantomime of the way he had communicated without his screen before. Again his expression shifted in question, relying on Everett to put expression and action together enough to know what the siren was asking.

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

Ah yes, temptation. It took so many forms and certainly not the least of them was the slope of pale skin, those shoulders and spine; wasn’t that just a lovely picture? And one he felt entirely justified in admiring since it was practically on display with that expression on the other’s lips so encouraging. The sort of fair flawless lines reminiscent of marble statues back home, sculpted ideals of old Gods and their equally alluring counterparts. The thought crossed his mind, the part of it that still fell victim at times to the serpent in his blood, if those rolling muscles would feel like iron under his fingertips or yield warm and pliant; but a better question might have been which held more appeal.

Either, he decided, because the allure there lay in witnessing the reaction; discovering if a touch, the slip of fingers, along the notches of backbone would be enough to brighten those murky eyes, or would it take more? Better yet, would it be enough to cloud them with heavier want, the sort that bubbled in the blood and coiled in tense muscles, electric nerves. But, that was far too ahead of himself and Everett chuckled at his own optimistic eagerness; he couldn’t deny himself to be a bit of a hedonistic creature by nature, and certainly by those daydreaming fits of contemplating the possibilities.

Yes, the evening had gotten far more interesting the last few moments, downright intriguing in fact, if Everett was going to be honest about it.

“I can see that,” he agreed with a trailing chuckle, “I’d imagine most of the club can, and at least half of them are appreciating the view.”

More than half really, if he were counting in the male, female, and otherwise into that assessment; it really came as no surprise that people mistook that fair visage for what apparently was the other gender if the conversation shed any light on the situation.

“Most people call that looking androgynous; a very long word for a very simple concept.” A rather envious one in most cases, not his own as he far preferred his crafted and earned appearance, but he certainly admired the finer points of it in others. “You have to forgive them, they exist in that strange world of being fearful of their masculinity being stolen if they admit they have an interest in anything but the typical gender.” Well, most of them, there were always exceptions. “I’ve had my fair share of memorable moments, some I’d prefer to forget.”

He noted the mention of disappointment and swung a scrutinizing eye towards the tender again to measure what there was worth being disappointed over. “Really? I’m sure you could do better.” Even excluding himself from that, which he was not nearly about to yet, the standard seemed rather low. “Alcohol is a perk but sooner or later you’d have to be sober around them and I can’t imagine he isn’t exhaustively dull.”

“Speaking of which,” he added with a nod towards the empty glass once the bartender had scurried off to resolve that sad state of affairs, “I think it’s only fair to tell you it’s not the best idea to drink too much of what I do, my tolerance is practically unnatural and it’s going to be a shame if this evening came to a short end with alcohol poisoning.”

A disclaimer only seemed fair, after all, just in case it was needed.

That half-hidden smile though, less temptation and more endearing with the sweet gesture. Yes, it was a bit obscuring but he didn’t mind, a little mysterious air only added to the appeal; especially when it so cute like that.

There was really no telling who might have been a serial killer anywhere around the city but Everett liked to think his ability to hold his own made up for a general lack of reasonable caution with the distraction of batted lashes and soulful eyes turned his direction. Call him just a bit…social, sure, chances were he’d been called far more colorful titles when it came to his flirty nature.

Subtle never got anyone what they wanted, especially when dealing with someone who didn’t mind his obvious ploys at gaining their attention. Lines were fine, but he wasn’t coming up against any yet with the way the almost-stranger slid into his little bubble of space with confidence, the words on that screen causing an amused sound to escape him upon reading them. But certainly not one of disapproval of the boldness.

“Linse,” he tested the word, instantly aware that it cause the same drag of sound that certain letter combinations did when it was difficult to wrap an inhuman tongue around.

“You’ll have to forgive me, it’s useful for a few other things,” he demonstrated with a flick of his split tongue across his lips that was as much a bit of humored toying with the conversation that lingered with the hint of smirk in his eyes and at the corner of those lips as it was apology for potentially misspeaking that name, “but certain parts of the common language end up sounding a little odd.”

|| I do not mind their mistake, it is not their fault. || Linse admitted with a shrug. || I was designed for it. Pretty is my weapon.ll The smile he shot Everett was coy, playful eyes flashing luminescent beneath his lashes in the low light of the club.

Linse was a Lure, a siren who is male by his sex but blessed with innate vocal magic in the same way females of the species were. Raised with his sisters, he’d learned their ways, learning the power of his appearance just as much as he’d learned the magic of his voice. He lived comfortably somewhere between the stark genders of his kind, a position of honor, of reverence, a rarity.

A man’s mistake was little more than a reminder that Linse was still a predator after all, albeit one that was invisibly muzzled.

How strange it was now, to be dancing along some of those same steps of seduction he’d learned from his sisters: not with the intent to lure the softness of Everett’s flesh to his teeth but to instead tempt those long fingered hands onto his own flesh that they might be able to guide him down that yet unlearned path this human body was aching for Linse to follow. Because ache it did, like a hunger the siren didn’t know how to satisfy. His body was calling out, and though Linse thought he knew what it was seeking, he did not know how to satiate its need.

But something about the curve of Everett’s smile told him the other man did.

|| And which half might you belong to? ||

He glanced back at him over his shoulder, aware of the twisting flex the motion elicited in the long muscles that bordered his spine, muscles that in his other form would be eliciting a trembling stretch through the spines of his dorsal fin.

Though it did not drive his decision in dressing the way he did, Linse was not ignorant of the effect his way of dressing could have on the people around him. Typically the lingering feeling of eyes on his exposed skin was a prickle of awareness that bordered on irritating, but tonight he found that somehow things were different. The tingle of Everett’s eyes traveling the length of his spine or sweeping over the smooth muscles of his back was anything but unwanted. In fact, Linse again found himself having to hide a toothy smile behind his hand, quickly tapping out a response with the other.

|| Thank you for the warning, I am not well versed in the practice of imbibing. I will be cautious in my enjoyment of it. I do not want to deprive us of an evening well spent. ||

Linse.

A shiver of something like pleasure rolled up his spine at the sound of his own name spoken so perfectly on that tongue. Five months of listening to mispronunciations and the siren himself had nearly started to doubt his own name. But now the sound was like the ripple of water through his gills, the kiss of sunlight against his scales, the feel of flesh between his teeth. It was good, and it was right, it was everything.

Hastily Linse spun around in the small space they occupied at the bar, coming nearly chest to chest with the dark haired man. His hands were pinned against his chest and he cursed his need to use them to communicate, pressing himself back against the bar just enough to type.

|| Say it again. Say my name again. || Linse demanded, his thumbs flying over the letters as he typed, hardly looking at the screen for how intently he was staring up into Everett’s gleaming eyes. Heat still writhed through his stomach in eagerness to see another flicker of that tempting tongue but he disregarded it, pleasure unimportant in the face of hearing Everett speak the soft syllable of his name once more. || Please. ||

Not for the first time the siren experienced frustration over his handicap in this form, wishing above all for his voice so that he could sing praises upon this man for the cleverness of his tongue, and beg him for more in the same breath. But Linse did not have his voice. And so instead with an expression of wanton earnestness, he turned the screen toward Everett, seeking and finding one of the mans hands to clasp within his own. He watched as those clever green eyes darted over the screen, breath caught in his chest as waited expectantly.

“Here you go, two cocktails and a pitcher of water.” the bartender drawled, setting down the drinks and thudding the overfull pitcher onto the bar with a wet slosh as water spilled down the sides.

Irritation flashed hot through the siren at this interruption and with all the speed of a predator Linse half twisted around to face the man, lips drawn back in a silent snarl. Rows of razor sharp points gleamed palely pearlescent in the light, a threat even the thick bartender understood.

The man reeled back with his hands raised in surrender. “S-sorry about the wait, it’s all on the house.”

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

“Trust me, that one isn’t going to notice you unless you’ve got a nice pair in the front, a low-cut shirt, and equally low standards.” He tipped his eyes in a roll towards the tender in question with bored indifference. Being a regular at more than a few places around the city meant Everett had crossed paths with the bar staff in those places countless times, and with his natural inclination to put his nose into most anyone’s business he could safely say he knew far too many habits of those who worked in the dark and alcohol-laced corners of the city. “The trick is to be too loud for them to ignore, or get them twitchy; it’s astounding how delicate the self-confidence of straight men is. They’re endearing messes, yes, but far too many of them just can’t handle anything outside their comfort zone.” 

He chuckled, adding; “No offense of course if that’s where you fall in, my radar isn’t so much broken as I’m just highly optimitic when it comes to pretty people.” 

But back to the task at hand, since very obviously the other couldn’t speak, or didn’t want to, but the use of that gesture lent more weight to the former, so no wonder the poor creature was irritated at being ignored. Everett himself had only a vague concept of what signs looked like, certainly not well enough to read an entire conversation by way of motions so far as hands and the like. But, no real matter, he felt perfectly capable of reading body language just fine, and the clever stranger had other means to communicate, it was only a passing notion that was placed aside. He’d come across people of all sorts, and ones who couldn’t speak were by no means even nearly an oddity. 

The bar tender though, that one was more of a challenge than an interest and his lips turned to a hint of a smirk as he toyed with the edge of his empty glass set on the counter, watching the guy pass once, twice, three times before he gave said glass a little slide just about the right moment to bounce off the tender’s arm in his forth pass. He flashed a smile, head tipped and eyes set to the man’s as he motioned him over. “They’re not your type sweetheart, trust me, they’d eat you alive.” He mused out loud with feigned innocence while the man glanced towards the far side of the bar in silent questioning; who really knew what sort of people actually had fangs and sharp teeth in that city and who didn’t? Just the suggestion was enough to shake him up a bit and Everett left it at that for the time being, he wasn’t that interested in playing with the tender anyway, more interested in the watery-eyed stranger. 

There was a certain feel to the idea that fit, he’d already decided, deep and dark places, that gaze was enchantingly mysterious and just soulful enough to be intriguing. 

“And since you’re here,” he motioned towards his empty glass and left it at that, if the guy was any good at his job he’d know the drink by the order earlier since Everett had been at the club a few hours and was hardly one to exercise much temperance when it came to the delightful vice of alcohol. “And my friend here couldn’t get your attention, it must be a very busy night, hmm?” At that point he was just having a bit of fun at the tender’s expense but he didn’t feel even remotely bad about it. “I’m sure you can fix that now.” 

He allowed himself a moment to take in the sum of what he could in the dim lights, there was a line between admiring a pretty face and being a creep though so he held his interest to a polite minimum, mostly; it didn’t hurt to take in the view. 

Anyone alone though often fell into two categories; either just arrived and not settled into a spot in the social jungle yet or lacking any desire to. What a travesty if it were the latter, but it went that way sometimes. Testing the waters was the only way to know though, and Everett had never had the fault of being shy. 

“I really have no idea if they would murder him or not, so I either saved him from a gruesome death or ruined his chances for a very interesting evening.” He shrugged, more a slide of shoulders than much bone and muscle in the way of the gesture, waiting for the shaken tender to return with the drinks. “Or both, I suppose, if you’re into that sort of thing; I’ve personally never thought it was a great idea to mix potential homicide with fun, but to each their own.”

He waved it aside as though the conversation was barely important, just an observation, and smiled again while the rest of the club became secondary to his focus on Linse. “I have no doubt it’s going to take him at least a few minutes to get back here, so, I’m Everett. I’m also notoriously prone to lingering around in my dire need of interaction with other people but feel free to tell me off with that thing if you’d rather lurk in the dark alone.” 

For a long moment the siren was confused. His shirt was quite low cut in the back, but he didn’t think it was possible even with these overly exposed human genitals to have his shirt show them off. The question twisted at his brows and he’d began typing it out before the women down at the end of the bar caught his attention. They were beautiful, with their long flowing hair, sparkling smiles, and heaving bosoms that glistened from within plunging necklines.

Oh.

It clicked, and Linse hastily backspaced the text on his phone, feeling his cheeks burn with minor embarrassment even with his low body temperature.

|| Too bad I only have one out of three.\\ Linse turned a little to show off the bare expanse of his back revealed by the deep v of his shirt. He flashed an exaggerated pout at the grinning stranger from over his shoulder, holding it for only a few seconds before he gave in to the wry smile that tugged at his closed lips. || And that being loud isn’t really in my skillset. ||

Not that he didn’t have a handful of flowing blouses that opened to his navel. Still, even with his most revealing shirt the siren was quite sure that his new friend was correct; Linse’s lean chest was never going to grab this man’s attention. The siren clenched his teeth against the hunger he felt in his throat. If he’d had his Voice, he’d have the man more than twitchy, he’d have him bloody between his teeth.

The lab grown meat that Caelestis provided him was enough to keep him more than satisfied, but it could never replace the thrill of the hunt or the ecstasy of the kill. And in his time here, there had been more than a few people he’d encountered who made him want to sharpen his teeth on their femurs. However it had been made abundantly clear that infractions of the ‘eating people’ kind would not be tolerated by the powers that be. Linse had only started getting a taste for living amongst the vibrant colors and cultures of the peoples here in this bubble beneath the sea: he didn’t want to fuck it up just yet.

But his attention was pulled back to the person beside him, his expression shifting minutely into something like curiosity.

Pretty? Was he being flirted with?

Flirting was another aspect of sexuality that he’d never explored before coming here. Amongst his siren brethren there wasn’t much need for it: they were either platonically asexual, or in a breeding frenzy. Witty banter to build attraction and intimacy wasn’t needed. But Linse had learned in the few short months he’s been here amongst the dome’s citizens that he quite liked flirting at times, even if his method of communication did make it somewhat more challenging.

||No, definitely not straight.||  He assured, finding himself smiling into the cover of his fingers, hiding the sharpness of his teeth until he could fight his expression back into the closed mouth smile that he’d adopted in this form. Linse wasn’t sure exactly what he was, but from what he’d seen so far he was quite sure he wasn’t ‘straight’. Be they siren or not, outside his season he still found little stirred his blood in that tell tale way.

Little, but not nothing.

|| But I have been mistaken for a woman by straight men. They are quite funny about it when they realize the error, all angry or embarrassed. Sometimes apologetic, those ones are my favorite. But I am almost disappointed this man didn’t make the same mistake. ||

He scowled a little at the bartender, whose attention his companion had finally caught. But Linse found his eyes pulled back to his new friend throughout the brief interaction. It was more than just finding himself entertained by the quick whit and even quicker tongue, and Linse was almost so distracted as he tried to suss out just what about this stranger had him so intrigued that he nearly missed his cue to order.

He quickly tapped out a response on his screen, pausing for a moment before adding another line and finally flashing his order in the bartender’s direction.

|| A pitcher of water. And one of the same. || The siren pointed down at the empty glass, just to be sure the man understood what he was asking.

He would just drink a little, really. Linse told himself as he watched the bartender moving behind the bar, assembling their order. Just enough to loosen up a little and see where the night took him. He’d been here for a few months already and still he was trying to figure out how socializing worked down here. There was a bit of a language barrier that not everyone was willing to overlook, and when he’d spent most of his life talking about where best to target the next meal, small talk wasn’t exactly something he was well versed in. And tonight Linse was really hoping things would go well.

As a creature whose entire existence was based on luring people over the line of caution and headfirst into a place where what seemed like an interesting evening always lead to a gruesome death, he had little to say in response, giving somewhat of a nervous shrug and half smile in reply.  He cast the girls at the end of the bar a curious glance, they didn’t look like anything that might end up being far more toothy than their delightful bartender was up for. Then again, maybe he wasn’t the best person to be judging just who might be ‘safe’.

Everett.

Again the siren had to fight back the smile that threatened to expose the rows of fangs that lurked underneath. He shifted a little closer to Everett, in part to allow him more readability of the palm sized screen Linse held, but also to close a little of the distance between them. The siren was suddenly very aware of where his side nearly brushed against Everett’s, the space between them feeling nearly electric.

|| Linse. And I’d be happy to lurk in the dark WITH you, Everett.||

[linsethalassa]

serpntsmile​:

There were very few nightspots around the city that he hadn’t frequented often enough to know, most of them he’d been around to watch come into existence if he wanted to admit things that put tedious years to his actual age. By far more of them were the same than they were different, but there was only so many ways to offer the idea of mindless distraction with noise and a stark lack of personal space so Everett couldn’t fault the owners for following a formula that worked.

Some he liked to venture out to with Ezra, their shared interest in social spots was, after all, one of the initial reasons they’d become friends. But others, the type that were excessively loud, he couldn’t bring the witch along because of how scrambled up it left him. So it became a solo effort, at least until he happened across someone to talk to; for Everett that never took long. He liked to think of himself as something of a point of focus, a social center of the universe, if he were being particularly vain about it.

And why not? He was happy to throw himself into any conversation, engage any talkative soul and coax the most reluctant wallflower out of their shell with a little enthusiast encouragement; why not settle himself into a spot where he was best suited to do so? Besides, he couldn’t stand boredom and people were the reason to even come to those clubs.

The city offered a strange lie; acceptance on the glossy surface. Everett had personally met races he’d never known to even be real; had coffee with harpies and small talk with fauns just to name a few, and it seemed every day some new something showed up under the sea. But he also knew one thin truth; people were still wary creatures. He was at a disadvantage, himself and his sisters and of course the eldest’s brood, were something rare in the city. He’d never met another Gorgon, chances were they might have died away, so total honesty in appearance wasn’t something he offered. His eyes might have glinted jade in the flashing lights and the curve of his silvery nails were not from the benefit of polish but he certainly looked human far more so than some of those around him. Some things carried stigma; people were instinctively cautious of serpents.

But he enjoyed himself none the less dwelling in his half truths, had been having a chat with a lovely lady with a crest of crimson and orange feathers woven through her long hair in a fiery mane and an impassioned voice when it came to the topic of restoring the surface, but her interest waned just as quickly and she was off to hunt down one of her friends after barely two drinks. Phoenix, in his limited experience, really were a bit lacking when it came to attention spans. They burned bright but trying to get them to focus was often like striking a match and trying to pour an entire conversation in the span of time it took the flame to turn to smoke.

But, oh well, there was still plenty to see that evening. Himself included, since he wandered the club in his usual combination of perfectly tight black jeans and subtly iridescent tank top wrapped like a second skin across his already delightfully distracting original one, unfortunate addition of an extra layer of fabric aside to keep things in order he considered himself to be in better shape so far as actual ability to dress himself than some of the poor souls in that place. It wasn’t mocking them, just some concern over their concept of color and reasonable attire given a few of the under dressed, overdressed and one person he was still puzzled over if they were actually dressed at all or just had an abundance of rather bright green fur.

He was still mulling over it as he wove through the crowd, slinking and slithering on two feet the way only a creature with a firm agreement with their bones to ignore a few logical limits of mobility in favor of looking better in motion can; fingers overlapped around a sadly empty martini glass that was deposited on the bar top while he pondered what was next in line of alcoholic indulgence for the evening.

It was the vibration that caught his attention.

His human ears registered sounds all around, but like most of his senses everything worked in layers. Licking his lips exposed scents around him along with the lingering taste of vodka, he could have dampened the lights and colors to tones of body heat with the slip of his secondary eyelids and while he heard the noise he felt the repetitive twinge of a monotone sound in the air, out of place because of how uniform it was. Voices didn’t work that way but electronics did and curiosity sent him searching for the source with a sweep of his eyes that landed on the flailing damsel in distress. Not a gender specific term by any means, in his opinion. They were a pretty one too, yes, and Everett gave it a moment before seeing that the stranger was having no luck resolving the problem.

He abandoned his spot to another lurking shadow eager for a drink and slid into one near the frustrated…whatever, in that city it was as rude to assume species as it was gender, with a tip of his head and a drop of one elbow to rest against the counter. “You look like you’re about to wear a hole in that bar, need some help?” He smiled with care taken to keep a light tone, worst case that ever come of asking was being dismissed and Everett had some rather thick snakeskin when it came to that.

Linse nearly turned his ire on whoever had slipped into the empty spot on his open side, but caught himself as the words filtered through his temper and into a phrase that made sense. Instead, it was with relief and a small amount of embarrassment that he turned to the newcomer. And found himself struck speechless, figuratively of course.

Sexuality was a curious thing for the siren. Up until recently, it had been the same: eleven months of complete asexuality followed by one month of hormone driven insatiable need to breed. That was it. Arousal and interest was like an on/off switch, either it was there (in an all consuming, have-to-fuck-or-I’ll-absolutely-die kind of way) or it wasn’t there at all.

Sure, he could look at one of his choir members off season and in a clinical way know that he was an attractive male, and that during season Linse should make a point of pairing with him, but that was it. Just a passing appreciation and little more. But recently things had started to change.

Gone was the clinical distance in those brief moments of notice. Now it was a flickering heat, as if the very sight of the person kindled a spark into life. Often that spark burned bright for a brief moment before dying out. However on occasion the kindled warmth of attraction lingered within him long after it would usually have faded. He’d even on occasion engaged in sex during his off season, something unheard of for his species. It hadn’t come with the same all-consuming intensity as during his season, but it certainly had been en enjoyable enough experience to have done it again as the occasion arose.

Linse wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about these recent… developments.

But Linse looked up at the person standing so close to him, and was far from disappointed to feel a familiar interest stir. Their (because he’d learned that down here it was just as difficult to look at a person and know their gender as it was their species, and it was rude besides) features were refined, smooth angles of cheekbones and a strong jawline balanced the dark slashes of their eyebrows and the wide bow of their lips. Lips that were curled into what Linse had come to learn as a polite smile, one that the siren had a niggling want to see turn genuine. But it was their eyes that had caught Linse by the throat, ensnaring him just as surely as his Song did all who listened. Smudges of dark lashes framed pale eyes that glinted down at him in the low light, eyes that were deep and dark with a knowing he’d not yet seen anywhere else.

Beautiful.

Linse threw a rueful smile up at the stranger and nodded, a dark fingered hand lifting to his closed lip smile before flicking outward in a gentle arc, signing “thank you”. He quickly switched between screens on his phone and typed out a short message, angling the screen so that the taller of the two could read it.

||Can you help me order? The bartender walks by me, they do not hear my speech aid. I’m very thirsty. And frustrated.||

The siren’s lashes fluttered as his attention dropped down to the deep gouges he’d left in the bar top. He snagged a cocktail napkin from behind the bar and delicately placed it over the worst of the scratches, shooting a wry smile and a shrug at his rescuer. 

[linsethalassa]

When he was feeling homesick, cut off from his choir and the life he’d known, he came here. Linse loved the hot throb of the bass through his bones, his body seeming to come alive beneath the influence of the music. It reminds him of being in the sea, of feeling as much as hearing pitches vibrate through the water around him. In the same way that the Songs of his people resonated a chord deep within the parts of him that are still all instinct and hunger, so too did the deafening thud of the club’s music bring him to life.

And so he danced, his eyes half lidded against the flashing lights and his sensitive ears carefully protected by a pair of noise deadening headphones. He danced for only the joy of movement, the celebration of song and the sensation of it thriving within him. Taken over by the rhythm of bodies pressed around him, Linse let go. Guided by instinct and the thrumming melody resonating inside, the siren lost track of time, of place, and of himself.

When the siren danced, it was more than just the rhythmic sway and grind of the average club goer out there on the dance floor with him. No, he danced like he was the Sea herself. With all of the lithe muscle of one used to cutting through the tide, his body twisted and rolled to the pounding bass, fluid movements that extended from the tip of his toes up to the charcoal black tips of his fingers. Like waves around a rock, people ebbed and flowed around him, and he payed them just as much attention as a rock does the sea.

It was only when dryness crept over his tongue that Linse came back to himself, dancing slowing to a halt. The siren swallowed dryly, and wiped sweat from his brow. He was thirsty. It had never been a problem when he’d still been living beneath the waves, but Linse had quickly discovered that this human body lost water incredibly quickly. Thirst, dehydration, even dry skin! These were all new, and terribly unpleasant discoveries for the siren to have made, and ones that took great lengths to avoid experiencing again. He had a small collection of creams and salves to soothe over all of this dry pink skin, trying to lock in and retain as much moisture as he could after each long bath. And rarely did he go anywhere without toting around a water bottle with him.

Except here. The club didn’t look too kindly on those who attempted to bring in outside beverages, and anyway, having a water bottle strapped to his hip just got in the way out on the crowded dance floor.

It was by habit that he threw a closed mouth smile at the people he lithely slotted himself between as he exited the crowded dance floor to seek out the bar. Though he was far from being the only creature around here with fangs, people still always seemed to find it unsettling when he smiled. Puzzling though it was to the siren, he’d found it no trouble. Without his Voice, there wasn’t much that he needed to open his mouth for anyway, and of those few things that did require that he flash his fangs, even fewer still were ones that he did outside of the privacy of his own home.

The bar was surprisingly not crowded, with a few groups or pairs of people scattered out along the length of it. Two people dressed in black busied themselves behind it, taking and delivering orders to those waiting. Linse found an empty spot and settled against the sleek surface of the bar, slipping his headphones off to rest around his neck. He winced a little at the increase in noise, but knew his needed accommodations would be met more kindly if he wasn’t also wearing headphones.

Linse pulled his phone from his pocket, dark fingers already swiping though apps and screens with a familiarity born after years of being mute amongst a hearing community. And there it was, a bright pink screen with ‘HEY!’ written across it in bold black type. Linse leaned against the bar, waited until the bartender drew near, and extended the phone, flashing the bright screen at him.

The man walked right on by.

The siren’s lips drew together over sharp teeth in a pale line of frustration. He flashed his phone at the bartender again, this time tapping the screen. A computerized voice called out, just barely audible over the music and chattering people around him.

“Hey!”

The bartender paid no notice, again passing him by to grab an order from the pretty girls who had just found a spot at the bar a few feet down from him. Linse narrowed his eyes, not for the first time cursing the one edict that had been passed onto him from the governing body of Caelestis.

You shall not eat our citizens.

But oh, how good it would be to Sing this frustrating man to him, to feel him go pliant and warm against his body even as the siren’s sharp teeth tore through his flesh with the ease of the sharpest blades.

The siren shuddered, restraining himself from flashing a frustrated hiss. Pointedly, he slapped his open palm against the bar, flashing his phone again and tapping repeatedly at the screen.

“Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey—“ the robotic voice chirped, little more than an off tone beat beneath the pounding music.

The man glanced over at him, held his gaze for a beat, before turning back to the girls with a smile.

Linse felt his hand curl against the bar top, thick black claws leaving gouges in their wake. He was so thirsty.

[bastardoftheocean]

[linsethalassa]

Time moves differently beneath the sea. Linse is not sure how old he is, how many seasons he has lost as year after year blend into an endless cycle of life, death, and sex. He remembers large ships, white sails, skies that were as clear and bright as the waters beneath them. He remembers when magic was alive, the day it disappeared, and when it returned again. But mostly he remembers a feeling of wanting more.

Sirens had watched with interest, this great undertaking of people building a home at the bottom of their sea. Many times before mankind had ventured beneath the waves, searching for answers to questions they were too afraid to ask. But this? This was new.

Once again, prey was daring to not only step on their shores but to sink beneath the surface themselves. Attempting to escape the poisonous air above, little did they know they were surrounding themselves with the endless hunger of the predators of the deep. In those early years of colonizing the dome, it was a wonder that enough transport ships even made it to dock beneath the waves and safely deliver new citizens to Caelestis. The sirens were starving, and ruthless, feasting at the unexpected gift from gods they had long thought dead.

But to Linse, this was an opportunity.

Here was his more.

He dragged himself ashore, taking on a human form for the first time in his life, and absconding with a group of newcomers seeking salvation beneath the waves. Once arriving in the pristine sterility of the Caelestis processing units, it was impossible to hide what he was. Which was exactly what he had intended.

Though voiceless, the siren pressed to make his proposal known, and once it was understood it spread through the ranks of Caelestis government like wildfire. If all of their technology and their magic could supply the sirens with food, they would stop attacking the ships, would stop sabotaging the fragile structure that supported life beneath the concrete dome. And Linse? He would be an ambassador for the sirens, a silent watcher, ensuring that the people beneath the sea held up their end of the deal and kept his kind fed and thriving.

In the meantime, here was a whole new world for him to explore. So many peoples, so many new sights and sensations to be experienced. It was all much, much more interesting than the endless blue sea outside.

In his true form, Linse’s tail is black, metallic scales fading through charcoal grey as they wrap around to his front where they shift to a pearly white to match his skin. His claws and hands and fins are black, as if dipped in ash and smudged up to the elbow. When he shifts into his human form, this black coloration of his hands and nails remains to a lesser extent, mainly restricted to his fingers and smudged like bruising up the back of his hands.

The siren doesn’t smile to show his teeth, only ever shows them if he is surprised into silent laughter, is forced to be aggressive or defensive, or if his temper is triggered.

Linse is a very quiet personality, gentle and introspective. He is inquisitive, always interested in observing new things and expanding his experiences. Friendship doesn’t come easily to him. While he is friendly to most, he is still a predator at heart. There have been select few people whose social or emotional value to him have surpassed their prospective nutritional value.

Even when he sheds his skin to walk on land, Linse retains the heightened senses that serve him well underwater. Everything on dry land is so different however, and after a lifetime of using his senses purely to survive, he now takes joy luxuriating in using those same senses to experience the dry world around him. Displayed on the walls of his home are an array of objects that fascinate his senses, in one way or another. Some of them alight his sense of touch, like a scrap of heavily embroidered tapestry or a silver comb decorated with intricate filigree. There is a small vial of perfume, the scent of which he cannot place, but that seems to resonate through him and send a shiver of warmth down his spine. Many of the shelves are laden with glimmering crystals or prisms of glass, their cold facets intriguing to his fingertips, the light they cast a feast for his eyes. There is a small stone so black that it seems to be a hole cut in the very universe, where it sits alone on a shelf by his bedside.  

He loves the sound of fire, something that before coming to Caelestis he was only ever able to experience when swimming amongst the burning wreckage of ships, searching for doomed sailors to feed his kin. In his home he indulges this affinity with wooden wicked candles that softly crackle as they fill the air with the scent of smoke and beeswax.

With heightened hearing comes unfortunate sensitivities. Certain sounds like electronic feedback are extra irritating to him, and can drive him to aggression when exposed to them for lengths of time. Because of this, his home is carefully soundproofed and completely without electricity. He uses a small, traditional ice chest to keep his meat cold, and once weekly picks up both his meat and the ice from a lab in Caelestis. Used to living in the low light deep beneath the waves, Linse needs very little light to see by, an open window or single candle often enough for him to read by.

Linse wears soft clothes and cool colors that remind him of the sea. While home he prefers very loose clothing, if he even wears clothing at all. While dancing, he dresses in sheer silks that drape around him, strategically bound to his body with golden pins and bands to preserve a semblance of modesty. Only a semblance however, since the sheerness of the fabric leaves little to guesswork.

Linse took up a career in exotic dancing, something he can easily do while being mute. As a siren he has higher flexibility and muscle control than the average person, and so can work some crazy poses into his routines. And although he doesn’t have to use his Voice to lure prey, he still likes feeling the power of entrancing men, and does it with his body instead.

While he isn’t much interested in sex during his off months, he is still interested in physical affection of a platonic nature. Sirens are affectionate amongst their choirs.

If he is comfortable with a person, and with a person knowing his boundaries, he may on occasion flirt. There is nothing but a platonic affection or amusement behind it, but he finds that it can sometimes help deepen a bond he might feel with an individual. Bonds which he sometimes takes advantage of when his hormones begin to increase as the spawning season draws near. While he is essentially asexual for most of the year, that all changes when the season is upon him.

Linse has been in the dome for 5 years. Previous seasons he used to migrate back home to the breeding grounds, but the longer he has spent away the less instinctive draw there is. The last 3 years he has had his season at home. He had brought in the occasional partner, but found it wasn’t a positive experience for either of them. He releases a strong pheromone during the season (all sirens do as a way to ensure that everyone is riled up and breeding at the same time), is aggressively ravenous. Hormones, libido, hunger, pheromones all ramp up over the course of a month until spawning happens on full moon of spring/summer transition. Immediately afterward he’s back down to normal Ace. Is very affectionate and nurturing afterwards in a sympathetic flush of hormones that usually would help reform choir bonds. In the past he has found that fostering kittens during this time is a pleasing outlet for these instincts.

He’s fine without a partner, just ends up masturbating a lot in a somewhat unsatisfactory way. Still, it is better than nothing.  

[raveyn-an-ort]

Aesthetic: Sirens

[nightfreaks]