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thisclockworkheart) wrote2023-12-20 11:30 am
Golden Peacock Inbox & Open Season App
6♥ [SIX of HEARTS]
UN: pinocchio
AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ TEXT ✧ ACTION
20 / male / unknown / 6♥
Details
The strong and silent type who doesn't like to brag! Or say much of anything. I'm sure this delicious snack has lots to say once you break through his dashingly wooden and icy exterior!
He says he's a stalker -- not that we judge, honey! We all have our vices!
Small correction, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals. A Stalker is a vocation, something about mercenary work.
This cherry boy is single and ready to mingle!
He plays the piano and says he's good with a sword. He even expressed interest in finding a few like-minded sparring partners! You know that that means, he's great with his hands and one of them is! Metal! A! F!
(This space, perhaps intentionally, has been left blank.)
(No information. Perhaps the original drafter of this post abandoned it halfway through.)
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.05 TITS OR ASS
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
NO ANSWER GIVEN
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
AN ANSWER! BOTH.
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
NO ANSWER GIVEN
INFP-T
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[and for some reason he sounds like the most fun.
She is paying attention to the sounds on his end, smirking on hers]
Do you even know where you're going? Or are you just that good of a huntsman?
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He watches a laughing group pile into the elevator and decides to wait for the next one. ]
Ha. With springs like these, anything I hunted would hear me coming.
[ It's not an admission he makes lightly, but she already knows — or he suspects strongly that she does — that he's not like her, or like any other human here. ]
Shall I guess? [ he must be teasing, his tone suspiciously airy: ] I thought I might start from the top and work my way down.
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Eighth Floor, room 6. Don't mix it up with 9 or I'll have to fight Daan for you. I want the first lick. [she leaves the cherry boy implied]
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Daan? [ he realizes he's hit the wrong number, ] Don't be ridiculous.
[ Pressing the number 8, he considers whether or not to message Cloud with Daan's room number. No, he decides, that would only embarrass him. (Which has its own appeal, if he's honest with himself.) To distract himself, he gives his best air-headed: ] Ninth floor, number 8, was it?
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Not that Marina would mind him arriving as such,]
Eighth floor! Room 6! Chop, chop. [breathlessly, eager for him to get to her, not at all patient. She wonders if she can get him worked up all on her own, just teasing him.]
I'm hanging up. I have lipstick to put on and clothes to take off. If you're late, there simply won't be anything left. Wouldn't that be a shame?
You could help me with that, if you're quick. [is that going to encourage him to rush to her or slow down and take his time? She waits to hear if he has any response before actually disconnecting, beep beep...]
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Marina.
[ The elevator doors open to an empty hallway. They close. It resumes its ascent. If she hasn't hung up on him by now, he shakes his head, abandoning what he was about to say in favor of a quiet: ] ...I'll see you soon.
[ Catching sight of his own reflection, blurry in the elevator's brassy door, he twitches his Legion Arm, fitfully flexing his metal wrist in agitation. Maybe now it's time to admit to himself that he's nervous, and how odd it is, considering this is hardly the first time he's walked right into unknown circumstances that were almost certain to end horrifically at least a dozen times before he emerged victorious.
Failing is different when no one has to know.
...he's still turning Daan's room number upside-down when he passes it on his way to Marina's room. ]
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With some rush, she does as she said. Rummaging through her make up drawer she picks him out a color all his own. Daan is a classic red, but what about black cherry red? That's a nice color. Dark, a little purple, a lot of red. She paints her lips with it...
Muah. Yes. That looks nice on her.
Next she dresses herself down, though keeps it... somewhat modest. She's still a girl of her time, after all. Just her blouse, skirt, and what's on beneath those; some nice lingerie from her newly growing collection. No stockings or knee high socks, just her long, slim, and smooth legs. She had gotten too heated for the ribbon or top button of her blouse before calling him, but she'll pop two more buttons down. Fluffs her hair. Double checks herself. Nods. She looks hot- No fretting- Unbridled confidence, only!!
She doesn't appear like much of scary wolf, though. She gnaws her own lip a moment while she waits... hoping he really won't be too delayed.]
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Cloud had once said he fit in, wearing something like this. He never told him he hadn't picked it himself, but it was the Intoner he had sworn himself to. When he reaches her door, he raps his knuckles on it. ]
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She's so excited to scamper over to the door when he knocks that she forgets to scrub her teeth after gnawing on her lip. Marina is disheveled in a way most pristinely planned out, but then her front teeth are awkwardly smeared along the bottom edges with her lipstick. Made obvious when she casts a charming, coquettish smile to him as she opens the door just a few inches to peek out at him.
A look like there's a little blood on her teeth is probably the most wolfish thing about her. Completely and embarrassingly by accident,]
Bold man, you got here quick. The young huntsman is sure he wants to explore this wolf's den?
THAT'S SO CUTE WHAT THE FUCK
His fist is still raised above his shoulder when she opens the door, and this would be the first time he's been greeted with a smile by a woman wearing rouge on her lips (and teeth). Sure, he managed to meet the famed prima donna, Adelina Corday, in her dressing room, but she was also dying of petrification disease at the time.
Should it scare someone in his position, to be greeted with teeth streaked with red? ]
You did invite me.
[ He does not attempt to force his way inside, standing politely on the other side of the threshold. Sorry, did she like his confounded, somber expressions? She'll have plenty of those, too. ]
If you like, I can come back later.
1/2
I want you here. [she says brazenly as usual, sticking her tongue out a bit and biting it at him in a playful manner.]
2/2 she's the cutest okay
Not like he can't leave anytime he likes! He's his own man, she doesn't have to keep checking and double checking he wants to be here and deal with her. He came all this way.]
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Unhesitatingly curious, he steps right up to the door, head thumping softly against it while he tries to peek through the crack. What's she doing? This also means his hair is ruffled by the wind of her door sweeping open when he reflexively steps back as it moves. There she stands, motioning him in, and—
—Pinocchio breezes past her at a powerwalk, eyes flying wide.
He doesn't explain himself, stopping at the center of the room and just turning around and around, like he's trying to take in all of it at once. Besides his small capsule-like room in the belly of the resort, he's never seen anyone else's room. At last, he asks: ]
All of this is yours?
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Luxurious as it is, why would he want to leave?]
Right, you're a lowbie rank. The little prince complains all the time about his basement room being cramped and sad. [She sways on over to his side, watching him look around with interest]
Guess I'll just have to invite you both up here more often! So you can get away from that.
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As he looks around, he turns so that his Legion Arm won't bang into her when she comes up to his side. It troubles him that Cloud had seemed perturbed about his low rank, and he hadn't been the only one to express condolences. Are his standards too low? Should he expect... better?
He decides to dodge that subject entirely, glancing at her sidelong through the dark tumble of his hair. ] So I can get away from that, or so you can have company?
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She reaches her fingers out to take his hand in bother of hers, not the Legion Arm so deliberately turned away from her, but the other. She rubs at his knuckles lightly with her thumbs,]
It could be both! I like company... big room to be alone in, don't you think?
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He turns over his hand, slowly changing this into a mutual exploration, until this too evolves from tracing the lines in her palm into a loose tangle of fingers. His fingers are a little longer than hers, both of them are slender, and something about the way they fit when he slots his between hers makes him ache a little, in his chest.
Pinocchio puts up his arm and carries hers with him, and when it becomes apparent he means to twirl her slowly with their linked hands, he speaks: ] A hungry wolf in her den. All this space and nothing but time to kill.
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She huffs!]
Hooi... you can't just spin a girl and not catch her in your arms. Here I come. [considering he was so hesitant with their little hug, that's his warning she's going to end the spin by tipping herself into him! He can catch her with his arms or against his chest, it isn't like she's moving quickly about it. Nice and easy for him!
She wants to be held close. In contrast to him, her body is very hot, even through her clothing. The contact doesn't help that, in fact it makes her much hotter, but she does feel well indulged by it.]
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Pinocchio catches her, primarily with his more normal arm, only he stoops slightly and scoops her up under her knees, the cold, hard steel of his Legion Arm tangible through the material of her skirt. It's also accompanied by a chunky, clunky bunch of mechanical noises, and the whirr of actuators. No shit, his arm actually goes brrr.
He pauses to look at the image of a vineyard glowing through her 'window', continuing to carry her bridal-style. ]
...You're very warm. [ Burning up, as with a fever. Tipping his face towards her, it's not clear whether he looks on her with pity or with clinical interest. It's not unfriendly, it's more that he's thinking, and the muted chatter of gears only supports the theory.
When he sets her down, gently, it's on the cushioned surface of her mattress, using his less dangerous hand to sweep her hair from her eyes. ] Tell me what you need.
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He comments that she's warm, she starts to lean more towards him,]
Aren't you- [-going to kiss me, now?" It stops in her throat, because he sets her down on the bed so gingerly just then.
Frustrating! And charming! What's he playing with her like that for!? She's supposed to be the one with the games!
Marina tries to maintain her composure, but can practically feel the steam rising off her face. A pouty look, eyebrows slightly rumpled down, eyes wide and lashes batting at him.
She'll let him know, alright! Just what's on her mind,]
... do you want to have sex or are you waiting for something? [sheesh, if he hadn't flustered her so much maybe Marina would have been a little more delicate. Instead, she just blurts it out so plainly, that redline really getting her riled up. He was warned!]
averts my eyes
...Couldn't you have been a little more coy about it?
[ was he trying to seduce her?
...maybe. he's been doing SO much reading, he's trying his best. ]
buries mine into both hands
So, she's bossing him, sternly.]
Answer me.
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It's different, and it's a little... exhilarating. She feels like a brand this close, warm and bright, and he's nervous, but uncertainty has never stopped him. Their lips stick together, like it was honey between them, and he doesn't know she's printed the color of her kiss on his mouth, but he presses his brow against her fringe. ]
I can do this as well as anyone. I can. [ Even if he wasn't born human— ]
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Marina is reciprocating that kiss. Soft and eager, trying her best to be unrushed. It's difficult. Her blood flows hot from her heart through her veins. Redline, redline, she thinks, what is this smitten feeling!? She wants to bounce in place. She wants to jump right onto him!
No, no, he's clearly needing encouragement, rather than her being forceful.
Her hands reach out to smooth over his shoulders and loop around his neck in a loose embrace. The lipstick that parted between them and onto his lips looks so handsome on him, genuinely. Gorgeous boy. She nuzzles his forehead as he presses to hers, admiring his face so close to hers.]
I believe you.
[Marina doesn't think he's slamming the lie button, she has faith!]
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Ever mindful of how easily his Legion Arm can harm, he carefully nudges up her chin with a cool, metal knuckle, the gap between joints a gentle scrape against her soft skin. He kisses her again when he tilts her up, sinking into the still alien comfort of touch that doesn't mean to tear him apart. After indulging himself, he pushes himself up on his other arm, his hand dipping the mattress with his added weight.
He says, dead serious: ] You're quite done with me being a gentleman.
[ It's not really a question. An educated guess, mainly. ]
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