#relentlessgrief

[sanguinisa]

@relentlessgrief i hope connor finds her antics humerus

[dividedbybinaries]

starter for @relentlessgrief

>. Somewhere between the platforms of the subway stations, Binary had completely forgotten how she even ended up around this part of town. The houses were rather small and quaint, far nicer by the usual Gotham standard she usually experienced in the Narrows. Maybe it was something in her subconcious mind that pulled her further and further away, cold and shivering hands tucked into her thick jacket making her seek out some sort of mental warmth.

Binary had been tired for a long time and longing for something to feel like her old home. And without proper control of her own limbs, she climbed up the stairs to a church. It wasn't really the first place she'd see herself visit on a night like this, but...There was something she had to see for herself. Or rather, someone. When her hand pressed up against the wooden surface of the heavy doors, her breath stood still. All until she reached the first hallway inside and into the back row of benches. Then, she exhaled. "...Father...?" Her voice was rather meak, coming off almost pathethic in comparision to the otherwise confident tone she held. But not tonight. Tonight, right there and then - she was only Bianca. Not Binary. Insecure, she began stepping back out again. S l o w l y . <.

[twomindedsubject]

continued from this ~. @relentlessgrief .~

~. Scoffing, the double personality stared at the Father in disbelief. To have the guts not only speak to him like that, but also make demands -- It was unbelieveable.

"You make it sound like we're forcing her to stay with us. We are not. She is sticking around by her own free will -- Because both you and I both know we wouldn't be any better than Heckland if we did."

Such accusations only made them more agitated - but they didn't touch the Father again. Only stood a mere inch from his face with hands locked behind their back, both eyes - dark and yellow - staring him down where they had him cornered in the dark hallway of his church.

"It's sort of ironic thinking that we were going to tell you the same thing. " The two rolled their eyes. " She's clearly been putting the wrong priorities first after she started running off here..."

It only took a good stakeout to see where she was heading off to -- and right now, Bob and Bub was outside making sure she wasn't coming in here before Harvey had concluded their imprompt meeting with the priest.

"...Never thought she'd go see you of all people. What makes you so fuckin' special to her, huh...?".~

[ofrequiem]

Slowly... Slowly... SLOWLY... Reaches a skeletal hand out towards her. (GRABBING YOU AND SHAKING YOU IVY)

unprompted / aka steffu is trying to give grace a heart attack via connor

[cornstarrr]

bookshelves

>. "---... Alistair...~"

Her fingers cramped around the edge of the bookshelves -- praying it wouldn't move from the sheer weight of the two being put on it. It was the only thing keeping her from falling over -- both body and mind far too focused on reciprocating the touching and whimpers that occurred hidden between the plentiful rows of books.

"----A-Ah..."

The texture of the tendrils that had invaded past the hemline of her trousers was something she had never felt before -- cold, sure: slimy, yes-- but the way it curved and slithered around her clothed mound was like anything she had ever felt before. The attention to detail was impeccable, and the force it manifested was heavenly. From just a few strokes alone, Bianca was a soaked mess.

But she wasn't so sure where to t o u c h him in return, though.

Perhaps it was because of the skeleton halfway dressed in muscles and veins that lacked zones to be touched -- but Bianca could settle for anything as long as that meant this moment wouldn't stop.

"---- W-Would you still judge me if I swore...? I-It's so hard to hold it back when you're making me feel so--.."

As the tentacle slid all the way back, pushing up even harder against her intimates, Bianca's fingers pulled his skull close to her lips with a yelp. Panting close to where his lips would've otherwise been -- but were now a set of teeth, grinning back at her while those hollow, black eyes did nothing but look at her with love.

"G-God."

Her hips endlessly rutted into the appendage to meet the friction, gasping and groaning. She wasn't even undressed yet, and she was already on the verge of cumming.

Goddamnit, Alistair.<

[gerudospiriit]

Stares at her from across the camp. Like, really eerily. Those empty eye sockets make it very difficult to tell where he’s looking half the time. Standing stark still like a statue doesn’t do any favors. It almost looks… threatening.

The reality?

He’s just nervous and doesn’t know how to say hi.

She had grown used to stares since her unceremonious arrival in this strange land, a Gerudo a foreign sight to, seemingly, everyone she met. Unsurprising, she supposed, when she had never heard utterance of the land of Faerûn or Baldur's Gate or the Sword Coast, all names used liberally and with comfort among her camp mates. In truth, she grew used to it long before arriving in the realm. Whether in lust or hatred, she tended to command attention when she walked into a room outside of her desert home...whether she wanted it or not.

Still, when Nabooru caught sight of those empty sockets pinned upon her person--or she assumed they were--from across the expanse of the patch of dirt they called a temporary home, his demeanor gave her pause. Still as stone, she half-wondered if he was conscious at all or in...some kind of meditative state? Even when she looked over, he did not glance away as most did. Though, more baffling still, his posture and stillness almost felt...unsettlingly threatening, though she could not imagine why. Since joining the camp, she found no issue with Connor. Curiosity, certainly, but she had yet to find a chance to really speak with him, let alone insult him in some way.

Perhaps he caught her staring a few moments too long while she considered him. Sure, she was used to skeletal beings wandering around, but...well, Stalfos did not tend to be quite so competent or well-spoken.

She fluffed her pillow one more time and rose to her feet, striding with purpose toward his tent. She halted a foot in front of him, hands on her hips and a borderline crooked smile on her painted lips.

" Everything alright, Connor? " she asked, tilting her head slightly. " Excuse the pun, but you look like you've seen a ghost? One that maybe made you particularly angry? "

[veinwitch]

”You have pretty eyes.” Not that he’s not told her this before, but… It bears repeating, right ? Gateway to the soul and all that.

Serenei looked at him, eyes narrowing just slightly, the dim light catching the faint red flecks in her irises. Connor’s skeletal grin didn’t change, and part of her wanted to roll her eyes—but part of her… didn’t. Slender hands moved over the mortar and pestle, crushing fleshwort and cassil with steady, deliberate presses. The scrape of stone against stone was almost conversational, keeping rhythm with her words.

“They’re just eyes,” she said softly, almost dismissively, rolling the pestle between her palms before pressing down again. “Pretty or not doesn’t mean much when the rest of me is… well, whatever this is.” Her gaze lingered a moment longer on him, assessing. Then, almost reluctantly, she let a ghost of a smirk touch her lips. “But… you seem to like saying it, don’t you, Connor?”

[rubistella]

@relentlessgrief || fucked around and is about to find out

“Well, obviously I am.” Astarion’s tenor was flippant, almost cavalier, as if the idea of rubbing salt into an open wound amused him. Never mind the fact that the ‘wound’ in question belonged to a skeleton. The vampire made no effort to soften his words. Why should he? It wasn’t as though the creature had feelings.

Or so he told himself.

“But we have other differences too,” Astarion continued, voice laced with blatant malice. Crimson eyes appraised the skeleton from skull to phalanges, curiosity peaking. He’d seen it before, the way even a spear through the ribcage didn’t seem to faze the thing. Bone shattered and reformed, yet still...

Astarion half-wondered if holy damage would finally get the job done.

“Some of us may rank among the undead, but can still be killed.” He let the statement steep, a reminder that, despite his vampiric immortality, there were limits.