#sssseth

[tzess]

@sssseth | Cont from here

Nudity was treated differently in Yuan-ti society, after all the abominations generally didn't wear anything, didn't need to. They were perfect as it was. The other castes, however, would cover what 'unsightly' parts they could. Which meant, parts that didn't have scales or something or other.

Even so, Tzess wasn't unaccustomed to nudity, normally wasn't so... shy about it. Nudity with other purebloods was different than... this. This was his god that was before him, and something about the thought of his god seeing every unsightly part of his body made his skin crawl.

So he never bathes at the same time as him, let's Sseth take their time and then he'll quickly slip in, wash quickly, and then get out. Never loitering for long.

Normally he'd just sit, face the other way while the deity relaxed or washed, answered questions when asked. He'd never looked, but a sound had caught his attention, and he'd turned his head.

Green eyes widened slightly, lingering for far longer than they needed to in order to confirm the others safety.

Something burns in his guts, makes his throat dry. His eyes catch on something lower, a feature the vrael lacked himself. He writes the feeling off as jealousy, ignoring that it surfaced even before he'd noticed the detail.

The words fall from his lips before he can even process them, the rogue not even having the chance to mentally curse himself before Sseth is quipping back.

It feels like his brain is melting out of his nose, as the last words leave the gods lips.

I would've thought with the way it reacts to you, you of all people would've known

What? What in the abyss did that even mean? React to him? As in... Sszekiel wanting intercourse with him? To breed him? Obviously that was physically impossible, for... multiple reasons.

It didn't stop his melted brain from trying to picture it anyway, bringing a wince across Tzess' face. His body wasn't made to take that.

Though... there was the alternative. No, no, no no no no. He was not thinking about that. He barely tolerated expeditions with Sszekiel, let alone something like breeding.

Apparently Sszekiel had different ideas, from what Sseth had implied. "That doesn't make sense. Sszekiel and I can't breed, why would it react to me?" His brows furrow, confusion betraying the attempt at forcing a neutral expression.

[saintsdawn-a]

↬@sssseth says, “ would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? ” + receiver finds sender covered in blood.

would she believe it? maybe, if it were anyone else, but it is his hands that are painted red. try as she might ( which wasn’t much, or long ), she couldn’t find a grain of trust to give. 

“ no, ” says florence. “ i wouldn’t believe you, but what can i do ? scold you like a child ? ” and wouldn’t that be a waste of their time? “ just. . . how wrong of a place, and how wrong of a time ? what happened ? ”

[tzess]

Jumping on his back and hiding his face on his hair, dw abt it

There's an audible 'oof' that punches out of the vraels lips, hands reflexively moving to support the others thighs, holding them in something of a piggyback positioning.

"My god...?" There's a question in his voice, as though he can't quite find the words to ask 'what the fuck are you doing?' in a polite way, while also trying to fight the tremble in his arms from supporting the gods weight. Not that Sszekiel's body had ever been particularly heavy, but Tzess was certainly not suited for carrying a whole other person.

"If you wish for us to stop, you need only ask." You know, like a normal person.

[illithidparasite]

DISPLEASURE WAFTS LIKE A FAIR PERFUME ON THE EDGE OF THE HIVE AWARENESS. Such a petty thing it would state beneath it, but there was a DELIGHT DERIVED of Gods beneath it. All were, after all-- - in essence, of course, but also many in physical existence. Hermaeus Mora was nothing if not immense, and yet still more does it become near always even if the tap was beginning to wane where once it flowed. But even in such a comparably miniscule shape, still yet it towers over another God in own vessel.

RARE WAS IT THAT A THREAT MANAGES TO PIERCE THE HIDE OF THE GREAT EYE THOUGH. That of injury or mauling are but amusing barking of feeble individuals // THAT OF SLEEP... enough to make tentacles make a snappish curl and a sharp dagger of disdain traverse the mind link of colony. Individual illithids at shadows outskirts react to the stab unrequested. “&– - It's beyond such pathetic requirements.” Between lie and a truth-- - self inside far beyond, the body still NOT COMPLETELY RELIEVED. Not yet. The longer it remains, the longer the duration between sleep becomes. The Mind Flayer sleep habits far surpassed other mortals too-- - connected minds meant lack of silence, but none of this it'd speak for it was no fool. It would never FREELY disclose an edge over its most hated activity. “&– - But if primordial requirements are what you offer, I will take that of the mouth and of the stomachs own instead.” // @sssseth continued from HERE

[tzess]

❝ You’re warmer then I thought. ❞

Tzess hates the sinking feeling in his chest at the words, hates the reminder of the excess human blood that runs through his veins. The warmer the vrael, the more 'pure' their blood was and the less of their serpents gifts they had. Oh how he wished he could be like the abominations, all cool, smooth scales. Just another reminder of his own shortcomings. That he was a flawed, ugly thing.

"My apologiess, my god. I've been trying to fix it, but there iss only one Anathema left in our area and the rituals are more than I can afford. It will be a long while before I can shed this warm blood." If... ever. Even if he got the ingredients himself, and made a worthy offering in exchange, there was no guarantee the ritual would be performed. There was a hierarchy for a reason, and he was born where he was. Most abominations weren't keen on the idea of a pureblood entering into a higher caste, so convincing them to allow it was a whole other ordeal.

Still, Tzess was nothing if not an ambitious overachiever.

"For now, I have managed fangss." He opens his mouth, the pair of fangs popping into place against the back of his canines. "You should have sseen the look on some of the other purebloods faces when I returned from that expedition with them."

[eyehunger]

plucks the cat by the tail and unhinges his maw

ONLY SENSE OF AN EXPECTED REACTION COMES AS A BRIEF, LOW HISS. Merely that of a sudden, rough grabbing by its squirming appendage-- - such touches not typical for it regardless of form. But as golden hues stared down the maw that opens // THREATENS // calmness settles upon frame as is natural for the God. A position it doesn't find itself in, quite the opposite. STILL, MAW CURLS IN A STRANGE APPROXIMATION OF COYNESS. “&– - I would not.... after all, you have already agreed your vessel restrains you... suffocates you. Certainly another taking up room within would exasperate that. And I don't make habit of sharing space fairly.” // @sssseth

[tzess]

@sssseth | Cont from here

There's barely a flick of surprise that flickers across his face, as the other Vrael grabs him by his leather collar. The outburst is unexpected, uncharacteristic of their kind. Normally he'd sneer at such a display of weakness, but this was Sseth, his god, and the one who would provide him with untold gifts at the end of it all.

So he pushes his impulses down, as he does all other unsightly things. "My liege, no, my god. I mean no disresspect, not to you. I would do the ssame if it were just me. Our people know many enemies, and I feel it's only logical to be prepared. I wish to rest easy, that iss all." It isn't even a lie, not really. He'd of done the same, always had in fact. He just... was a little more aware of the necessity given his gods... fragile state.

Feeling the other sort of... collapse against him, there's a moment of uncertainty. If holding the other would only further their little tantrum, or not. At least, not until Sseth explicitly tells him to.

"Alright." Is all he says, lean but toned arms moving to lift the exhausted sorcerer the short distance to the bed. He allows them to get settled on their own, feeling that 'tucking the god in' would only have it hissing at him again.

Then, he sits himself down on the floor, back against the bed and facing toward the door. It wouldn't be the first time he's slept in this exact arrangement.

"Wake me if you require anything, but I suggest we leave at first light. Merely a suggestion, of course. You will always have final say."