Creatures of the Night [Khyan]

[Aeros]

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Maybe it would appear a bit unusual, but Æros sat in quiet interest while the other man spoke the entirety of his piece. Resting one elbow on the bar with his own cheek on that palm, his golden gaze stayed rooted on his new companion while his visage wore an expression of both playful amusement and curiosity. He found it deeply entertaining to watch another descend further away from sobriety the more they consumed, and this one certainly was opening up quite a bit more than he had been at the beginning of their interaction. Intriguing. For what reason had he been so guarded?

He did, however, run with the tale of calling himself a fugitive. How much truth was in that story? Fugitive from what, exactly? And while Æros was not a man naturally in possession of a deep well of patience, he did know that when it came to peeling back the layers of another, it was a skill one had to have. Granted, he did have a bit of a cheat card in that respect with his magic.

In the few moments before the half-fæ responded, he wove in a Composition of trust in tandem with another of comfort to Khy's Symphony. Oddly enough, he found weaving aether to be an easier process the more tanked he was. These two things could be difficult to establish right away between strangers, and Æros was feeling…impatient tonight.

Then, in the immediate aftermath of doing so, he dropped the hand on which his head rested, leaned a bit forward, took the other's jaw in the palm of a clawed hand, and pulled him into a kiss. Such a motion was smooth and graceful and swift in speed– though the result wasn't that brief. Æros held the lock of their lips long enough to push his tongue into the other man's mouth in a bold acceptance of the initial challenge tossed to him when the other started his earlier response. And when he pulled away, he let the smoothness of his motions drag to elongate their parting in a bid to add emphasis.

Returning to his earlier posture, "...you do taste sweet— and have good taste in wine, I'll add." Spoken with playful guile, he now donned an expression of feigned innocence, saccharine in its own sweetness.

"I do pay for little down here– not that I couldn't should I so desire, but why spend one's own coin when one doesn't have to?" Countenance a bit more devilish now, Æros was a rather big fan of embracing the sins of both greed and gluttony without a care.

"My family has estates in both Luxium and Umbrium, it varies where folk of my name reside…but it appears we both share a bit of platinum, then, hm? Though I have quite a bit more."

Æros skated by admitting to the house he was actually a part of. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but there was always the possibility that in saying it, somebody with recognition would perhaps have heard the gossip about a certain child of that blood. Granted, his appearance sometimes gave such a thing away, but if he could avoid letting that truth out, he would. He preferred to keep his facade of grace untarnished for as long as possible.

While he usually opted to lie about himself, an admittance of the truth of his blood was one thing he was actually more than pleased to share. It was a boast that often resulted in yet more attention and affection of the masses– that or disdain, sometimes envy, but either way, he still drank deep of the attention, positive or not.

"Though I am crossed with a Fæ-ethalan, which, in my opinion, makes me notably more fun than a standard elf and, on top of that, I am in favor of believing the tales that Fæ are just a few steps above mortal– those of my fathers' blood especially, being that of the Winter Court." Quite arrogant, a bold boast, this was, but in actuality, Æros genuinely believed this sentiment and it was the main source of his superiority complex; his blood kept him elevated while his sense of self and ego lay in shattered pieces on the ground beneath. This, of course, he would never admit.

"Currently– I have a small haunt to myself that does happen to be nearby. For convenience, see. Long commutes to my places of employment don't suit me, I think." Definitely not because he wanted a place to enjoy his vices in peace, and absolutely not because he was running from his family.

He paused, thought for a moment, then, another question. "Under what circumstances, pray tell, do you find yourself to be a fugitive? …too much time spent hiding down here will certainly draw color from your countenance, however, so you might be compelled to remedy such unfortunate a status." These words were a playful taunt, more of a gentle jab delivered with a face quite fox-like.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan cherished the attentions of his starlit companion. It was a balancing act to employ his Semblance in such a way that it enhanced the experience of their flirtatious exchange, rather than spoiling some of the fun of ambiguity. One thing he couldn't help but notice was the subtle intrusion of the man's Mesmer, dipping into his Symphony and plying the discordant notes with consonance. But his awareness of the manipulation served as no armour against it. Nor was Khyan keen to attempt to thwart the Mesmer's ministrations. It felt pleasant enough, and he already wanted to trust the stranger. It was more fun that way.

Focused as he was on the Craft, Khyan was caught by surprise when a hand was cupping his cheek and drawing him in for a kiss. He might have gasped, but he only had time for a little catch breath before their lips were joined. The former Patrician's arousal was as intense as it was instantaneous. His Symphony shifted significantly toward the soaring, arpeggiations of lustful intent. Even without arcane assistance, the flush of his cheek and the less than subtle shifting under the skirt of his tunic would broadcast his carnal interest. He parted his lips pliantly, accepting the other's tongue and gently running his own along its length.

A strange phenomenon would register to the Mesmer, as the Sembler employed his Craft to amplify his own pleasure by tapping into that of his present partner. The half-Fæ would sense a bit of his own Symphony being drawn into Khyan's, through no effort of his own. Khyan was greedily conjoining the sensation of kissing and being kissed- of being the aggressor as well as the passive one. The dominant and the submissive. He could tell this man enjoyed their power differential and, though Khyan was at the disadvantage, he was finding he rather relished it as well.

As the captivating creature drew away, Khyan licked his lips and grinned- face flushed.

"I'm glad you approve..." He said, running his hand through his dark hair and meeting the golden gaze with his own dark eyes that were now subtly swirling with a silvery nebula, now that his Semblance was active.

Khyan nodded,

"You certainly do, Dominus..." Khyan had grown up in a family with homes in both the city and the undercity as well, but saw no reason to mention it. The stranger seemed to enjoy the distance between their ranks, after all, and the half-Fæ was quite right. He was the more Platinum of the two of them. For all appearances, Khyan was wholly human with a normal Vastian complexion, dark hair and rounded ears. The only signs of elven influence were how pretty he was and his inability to grow hair on his face or most of his lithe body.

"By the Founders!" Khyan half sighed the quiet exclamation, "You bring stars to the Undercity and Winter to the desert... Truly, you are a magical creature." He scooted forward on his seat and placed his palm, smooth and bereft of callouses, onto the other man's thigh. "I never did catch you name, did I, Dominus?" He observed, as he gently squeezed his leg.

"I hesitate to elaborate upon my situation, lest your ephemeral attentions turn faster away from me... I am so enjoying this little fantasy..." And yet the man's Mesmer was still at work, easing Khyan's aversions. "But it would be unfair to put you in peril by allowing you to act in ignorance." He leaned close to brush a platinum lock aside, to whisper into a luminescent, pointed ear.

"I recently fell from grace, Dominus... From Patrician to property. I am of Gens Nykara, and son to the fallen Consul of the Senatus Minor." He drew back to gauge the expression and Aura of his companion. As another man's property, Khyan was not exactly fair game for anything beyond flirtation. Should the owner catch wind of any sort of intimate encounter, even an unwitting stranger might be in deep, legal trouble for sullying a slave not their own.

[Aeros]

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Æros reveled in the apparent, and abundant, pleasure the other man found in his touch. It almost made him regret ending their kiss so soon…though it’s not as if Khy would say no to more, now would he? The other’s lust rode through his own body, and despite the fact that the other hadn’t made a single cast to shift push such a thing back onto Æros, the strength of the emotion’s vibrations would’ve been…difficult to deflect, so he didn’t.

Pushing the rise of his own arousal ever further, his companion’s body language, the flush of his features, that little rise of the fabric between his legs– all so enticing. What he saw before him was prey that was very much ready to roll over and give him what he wanted. Despite the ease with which he accomplished this goal, it never ceased to spark a sense of brilliant joy within. He so very much loved toying with people alongside the more carnal experiences that often came along with it.

He could only grin more at the other’s exclamation when he spoke of his blood. Æros was a novelty and he knew it; it was one of the easiest bits of information he could share to garner a reaction and he never got tired of it. Though he’d also never met the man who’d blessed him with the blood of a færie, he was ever grateful for him. If, somehow, his soul had been pulled into a similar situation without this boon, his life would be…very likely even more insufferable. The funny thing about that was that his father very likely lived in blissful ignorance of his existence. While it was irrelevant, he often couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever meet.

“Mhmm, I didn’t say it because I like the titles from your lips…” he paused, tongue pressed to his palate, lips slightly agape as if a word was caught, “...but I’m feeling generous– I am called Eros.”

This wasn’t actually true. His name, while very similar, was both spelt and pronounced ever so slightly different. While this difference was rather subtle, anyone that knew him by his proper name would think you to be talking about a different person entirely if you were to say it wrong. Many of them would opt to not even offer the correction, in fact, because saying it wrong could be interpreted as a sign of disrespect.

And then, it was the smaller man’s turn to draw himself closer. Æros, of course, encouraged this; the moment the other’s hand pressed into the skin of his leg, he parted them, adopting a wider posture as if in invitation.

He was so very intrigued by what his companion then told him. The tales of falls from grace like this were both rare and common at the same time. It didn’t happen incredibly often, but in the history of the Solunarium, it wasn’t so rare that it would actually surprise him to hear. People were…cutthroat when it came to power. People were petty when it came to wealth. People, in general, were vicious. This much Æros was very familiar. The only thing that was surprising, really, is that he’d find one such disgraced individual here of all places.

“Is that so…?” He responded with a soft voice, almost disappointed. “How tragic, and here I intended to take you home with me tonight…” he chuckled, “...actually, tell me more of your master. Only then will I decide how much I actually care…” a bit of callous mischief in his voice.

Æros was honestly slipping in terms of his self preservation. His reputation already wasn’t great and on an almost daily basis, he’d take enough of his vices to kill a normal person– or he had no idea and didn't care about what he put in his body– doing something like this was no more risky than an average activity for him, really.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan licked his lips at the man's mention of them. He very much enjoyed the way the stranger spoke to him in the language of command. This exchange felt, in a way, like better training than anything he'd learnt in the prior month.

"I shan't let this knowledge dam the flow of those titles, Dominus... Though I do bask in your generosity." He took in a deep, blissful breath as he felt the motion of the stars on Eros' leg beneath his tender palm. Baseborn or true, and Eros was very likely the former given the overtly foreign ancestry that made him sparkle so, he'd have outranked Khyan even before the Fall of the House of Nykara. He was, as he'd pointed out, more Platinum and, merely the fact of his being more Elven would have been enough.

As Eros parted his legs Khyan might have fallen from his stool in addition to grace, so close to the edge was he perched just to be nearer to his enchanting companion. He knew he ought to be more guarded- particularly given his current predicament, and yet the wine and the Mesmer urged him otherwise. He hadn't started their exchange seeking to be candid, and yet here he was giving in, once more, to indulgence as he so often did in the past.

Khyan knitted his brow, vexed by Eros' potential dismissal. It sounded as though their coupling might have been a sure thing, had he been able to keep his mouth shut about his status. And yet, in spite of the novelty of their introductions and the fickleness of the entire exchange, Khyan truly didn't want his personal pleasure to cause the downfall of another. It wouldn't have been fair to Eros to draw him unwitting into scandal. It would have been akin to giving him a social disease, only more literally.

"I..." His urges hadn't diminished, though some of his confidence was now on the wane, "I'm gutted to hear that, Dominus... But as for my master?" Whilst his right hand remained upon Eros' thigh, the left rose to graze his own neck. "I didn't slip my collar. He allows me the key. His father had a grudge against mine, but when we were enslaves under Lex Agni he took me in. We were old school chums, you see, and he hoped to spare me from the crueler lash of his father." He grimaced, and took a hefty gulp of wine. "He pities me..." His dark eyes darted up to meet the golden gaze across from him, "Do you, Dominus?"

[Aeros]

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Khy’s disappointment drew a lopsided smile, more akin to a smirk than anything else, on the half elf’s face. He really did like his titles; part of it was because of the power dynamic, but there was also the fact that it was less personal. Æros liked to keep superficial distance between himself and pretty much everyone interacted with. That’s why he’d tell small, almost pointless sounding lies in tandem with larger ones, it’s why he’d lie by omission almost constantly, it's why he never talks about how he really feels and so on. Not only did he not really know how to navigate relationships in any genuine way, but doing so terrified him, and therefore he avoided having to in any way he could.

“My generosity is a rare thing,” words not much more than a murmur.

He felt the tremble of desperation in the other’s voice along with the note’s tell-tale shake in his Symphony. Æros was playing with him with his doubt– he had zero intention to backtrack and fully intended to bed the man before him. It’s just…a little more fun to make others try and pine for him. Maybe a little mean, but ah well.

Explaining his story a little further, Khy was the slave of the mastermind’s son, it would appear. There was bad blood between the fathers of master and servant, but not the two of them. Interesting dynamic, really– but it also meant that the fallen one would have a lot more freedom afforded to him than that of a standard slave. This was good for Æros whether he cared or not; he might not mind crashing and burning, but doing so would be a tragic end for a man with so much potential, would it not?

Wearing a sweet smile, as if touched by the other man’s final question, “...I think I can afford you some small modicum of my pity, yes.”

In tandem with his words, he dropped one of his hands atop of the one Khy had left on his leg, drawing it upward to the top of his thigh near his hip passively, paying no heed to his own movement. This was both closer and a bit farther from what the other man wanted, but he would feel a fair amount more warmth in this new position.

“Have you heard many tales about Fæ-ethalan, then, Khy?” A familiar, fox-like look reappearing on his features. “...are you aware we can change our shape? And it’s no illusion– physically, I can adapt to your desires; I can become whatever you’d like most and it’ll feel all the same to me…so don’t be shy if you’d like a change anywhere," a sentiment punctuated with a devilish wink.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"Then I shall count myself double blessed..." Khyan offered with a smirk of his own, though it was wan and bashful in comparison to Eros'. If the man's generosity was such a rarity, Khyan was grateful to warrant its deployment- Though it wasn't his generosity alone that so disarmed the human.

It was odd to be able to read people as well as Khyan could, yet still convince oneself otherwise. He'd been artful at observing behaviour well before he'd ever taken on the Rune of Semblance. That was probably why he'd excelled by leaps and bounds beyond most of his classmates and achieved mastery at so young an age. But that wasn't so long ago, and he was still, albeit just barely, a teenage boy with all the drives and passions that implied. He was just as much a master of self-deception as he was of Semblance. Even if he could see more proof than most that he was being toyed with, his wants outweighed his sense of self-preservation... and even his dignity, at times.

"I..." He hadn't been fishing for pity, and part of him thought to say so, but he closed his lips instead and looked at what Eros' pity yielded. And he smiled. The affection was welcome. More than that, it was passionately sought. The tide of his desire was, again, waxing with that tender touch.

"I have, Dominus, yes..." He was a well-educated lad, albeit through the narrow lens of the Solunarian state system. He understood that the Fæ were creatures of another world. In that regard, he understood Eros' prior assertion that they were something apart from... above the mortal races. It served Khyan in this moment to agree, for if such a creature desired him, then in their physical congress he might also be graced by the divine. Even if that only meant a feather in his proverbial cap, he'd have accepted the adornment with relish.

"Yes..." Khyan conceded, "I studied at the Academia Arcanum, and we had an entire course on creatures with intrinsically magical properties..." He'd learnt of the Lysanrin talent for ætheric manipulation in the absence of Runes, of the means by which Rathari transformed and of the genesis of the Avialæ race. He'd even befriended one who was a classmate- Another partner of higher status he'd managed to woo toward physical intimacy. The Fæ had been part of his course of study as well and he knew of their so-called 'glamour', though that seemed misleading to Khyan. It made the alterations sound illusory or deceitful, when they were neither. At least not inherently. He'd understood it to be a slower process than Eros was implying, but he had no reason to distrust a primary source. Well, that wasn't true- his Sembling eyes could discern sundry reasons to distrust the disarming man, but Khyan was disarmed. He was young, randy and utterly smitten at the moment.

"More's the pity for you, Dominus Eros..." The boy dared to add his given name along with the title he knew the man to prefer, "That I, the less striking of us twain, cannot offer you the same plethora of options. I am capable of some revisions, but I'm afraid none that I'd expect you to find particularly appealing..." His Rune of Animus would only serve if Eros had very particular kinks, and those might have fallen in the narrow frontier that existed outside of his comfort zone.

"I've not seen all of Your Lordship, but thus far I can't imagine what I might seek to improve..." He chuckled nervously. "So..." He bit his lip, "Should we quit this place in favour of more privacy? I'm loath to break the doorman's heart after I've already broken his bank, but I am willing to brook his wrath to bask in the breadth of your starlight."

[Aeros]

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Æros did expect his companion to have some knowledge of Fæ, given the fact that he was, originally, born into a family of status. Although, even if he wasn't, standard education in Solunarium wasn't poor, just biased like everything else. How well one does, how much one retains, and what specifically one was taught could vary somewhat, however, but it would appear he'd received an education that was of the more comprehensive sort. In all likelihood, it might have been something similar to his own– he knew of the school Khy had mentioned, though he was not exactly sure what their curriculum actually was or how much it would've differed.

His companion's response to the mention of his glamour was as flattering as it was interesting. He quirked a brow and looked intrigued, maybe a little puzzled. "To what are you referring by these…revisions of yours? Something from a rune, or are you more than you look?"

He could be concealed Rathari, for all Æros knew. There are also ways to alter one's form through magic, several of which interested the half-elf, though he hadn't put the effort into searching for practitioners willing to pass them on.

"I will warn though, if you ask for an alteration of a more extreme nature, such a thing is a slow process– consequently, you'd have to keep my interest beyond just a single night. Small changes, however? Simple enough to manage quickly." He spoke as if pleased with himself, a small shrug at the end of his words.

In truth, he quite liked this chimerical ability more for himself than for others. He found it exceptionally fun to sometimes just wake up and experience the world differently for a time, and then be able to shift back into that which he was most comfortable with. Even the requests of strangers had opened his eyes to things he hadn't considered before and ended up liking, so really, this offer was more for his own exploration than anything else.

"...but yes, I would be happy to take you back to my place, even if in doing so I'm thieving you away from somebody else," a concept which he then laughed at. "Even if for no other reason than to hear more of your praise."

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"I am as I appear, by nature..." Khyan conceded, sounding as though he might disappoint in the admission. "But one of my areas of study at the Academia?" He smiled, now, but more as a means of exhibition than a display of happiness. He parted his top teeth from the bottom and with a rapid click, his canine teeth extended sharply downward, revealing themselves to in fact be retractable fangs. He turned his face at a few different angles to give Eros a proper glimpse, before withdrawing them.

"Animus." He was conscious of the lisp that impeded his speech when his fangs were out, which is why he'd made sure to put them away before speaking again. "The teeth came with my first totem and stuck around. Don't worry, though..." He winked, "I know when to keep them tucked away." The last thing he wanted to do was scare Eros away with the notion of nicking his naughty bits with an errant fang. He'd omit the fact that they were also venomous, as that would likely prove even more off putting.

"You'll probably think me a flatterer, Dominus, but I honestly can't think of a thing about you I would change- even if you'd be willing." Khyan knew that Eros was tapping into his Symphony. He'd have been able to tell if the human was lying, so the lad was well sure he meant what he said before he uttered it. He was, for the moment, completely true. He was wholly enamoured. There was even that tipsy little hope that this could be something special and lasting, though such inklings tended to be spent with his seed.

"Then I shall have to keep the praise flowing, shan't I?" Khyan sniggered along with him, as he slid from the stool on which he'd been precariously perched ever since Eros drew close to him.

"May I ask- This present form of yours... was that of your own devising or did you come to it naturally?" Sliding his hand away from Eros' leg, he offered his palm up for him to take. It was a vulnerable offer- perhaps it was a tad overly romantic for two such as them, but he longed for the physical affection that had been denied him over the last month.

[Aeros]

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Ah, so it was magic. Animus had always been a fun sounding rune, but then again, most magic sounded fun to Æros if for no other reason than the more spells one has access to, the more creative combinations one can come up with. A mage can be creative with one rune alone, imagine the possibilities of five or six? One day, he hoped to get there, though initiations are always a risk. However, he always wondered if having more or being skilled in magic made the process easier, one's aether more flexible so to speak. Of course, he had no idea, and especially in this state of mind he would happily risk his life for no reason other than entertainment either way.

"Oh, how fun! …whose teeth are those, then?" Genuinely, he found magic fascinating, and that extended to the choices others made with the runes in their possession, too.

In response to the comment of their retractability, he seconded the sentiment. "I should hope you keep those sheathed, yes…I don't know you well enough to say whether or not I'd desire to be bitten." He certainly didn't sound disinterested, but thinking of the local fauna, a lot of sharp toothed beasts had…unpleasant venom or even acid in their mouths.

A bit of blood in intimacy never hurt anyone though, did it? All in good fun, Æros thought, at least.

His next comment brightened the half-fæ's features, happy to be considered even near to be perfect as he was. Though Khy had absolutely no idea, such a sentiment in particular resonated far deeper with Æros than others. Perfection had been an expectation for him his entire life; it is hard to maintain such a thing at all times and, consequently, he'd been berated for any mistake, any shortcoming. It's funny his parents didn't expect to raise such a broken individual, but many do not realize how fragile children really are, how easy it is to ruin somebody before they even get a chance to live.

"Oh, rest assured…I'm very good at reading people. Part of why your words are so effective, see? I know you mean them." He spoke about this skill proudly.

While he was certainly assisted by his Mesmer, he'd been forced to learn to read others from a young age, lest he step on the toes of his elders unintentionally. This skill and his magic made it almost painfully easy to get what he wanted from people…for better or worse. What he'd said, however, was a statement of thanks wearing the facade of a brag– one of the only ways this particular elf knew how to thank anyone, indeed.

"...but yes, do keep talking. Along with your words, watching your lips move and hearing your voice are almost as sweet." Despite essentially making a request, he spoke teasingly, a tone one would wield when issuing a playful challenge as opposed to asking somebody to continue.

While Khy asked his next question, he'd begun to move. Æros followed along with him, every small motion he made possessing an almost uncanny amount of grace for a man who had drunk as much as he did…on top of whatever the hell amount of pills and other sorts he'd taken already. He had very good control of his musculoskeletal system; most could only tell he was inebriated by the sleepy look his eyes would hold or the cadence of his words, perhaps more blurred pronunciation of things, too.

Then, with a smile of faux innocence, he took his companion’s hand with his own. Though he always kept himself at a distance from others emotionally, he actually loved to play the role of a romantic– in truth, he often found himself craving things like romance, but he feared it. He doesn't like navigating waters he's unsure of…alas, yet part of the perfectionist's curse. Such a thing was another aspect of interacting with others that he had no concept of, but he was more than pleased to play pretend. Who knows, maybe one day he'd find himself acting out a role and eventually, he'd learn what it was like to actually feel something other than crushing loneliness on a deeper level. In his mind, however, he plans to die before that happens.

As they began to walk, "This shape? Most of it is what I was graced with at birth…I am actually a fan of the face my parents gave me, funnily enough. I've changed my height around too much to remember where I should be, my figure is borne through my work…but the other oddities like the teeth, claws, antlers and so on are treats of my Fæ blood and I wear them proudly." Anything he can brag about that's uniquely his, he would.

"Some parts you haven't seen have also been changed so many times I'm sure they're different from what they would be if I'd never bothered…'' he trailed off, then suddenly continued, as if realising something. "...actually, what I have now is the taste of another partner– I've not felt the need to change it…yet." to this, he giggled in a way most puerile– but he's telling the truth.

He'd changed small things like size and thickness so many times that 'resetting' it, so to speak, was difficult to do. Plus, some people liked a taper, others? odd shapes, unique textures, and some folks liked him with reversed anatomy entirely. With such…versatility, the base is forgotten, but he didn't really care. He never really identified with the anatomy of his sex on a personal level and found shifting it to be more fun than something static, anyhow.

By now, the two of them had managed to slink out into the night, Æros tossing a bragadocious expression at the bouncer as they passed by, implying he knew damn well what he'd done.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"My first totem was an Atraxian Asp..." Khyan winced almost apologetically- already having been caught out in the omission he'd attempted to make about the venom. Asked directly, he was obliged to admit to bearing the toxin inherent to one of the most venomous serpents in the whole of the Atraxian Expanse. "But I've been at it a very long time and I'm formally trained, so you needn't worry that I'll deploy any by accident. You've already kissed me, after all, and hopefully the only side effect is infatuation?" He inflected the jest up, as a question- because he was terribly hopeful that Eros was as enthusiastic about their coupling as he was. He'd begun to withdraw his use of Semblance, now that their course seemed clear. With that bit squared away, he didn't feel inclined to spoil what surprises the Platinum Fæ might have in store for him.

Khyan was elated, as Eros accepted his hand and led him out into the night. It was always sort of night in the Umbrium, but at least a few cups of wine made it feel more like the real thing. He hadn't been this happy in quite some time. Even before the judgement against his father had been rendered, the trial's blow to his reputation was enough to cripple his prospects with those of his class and above. Raithen had taken pity on him before the axe fell, but since then his dry spell rivaled the most remote dunes of the Atraxian Expanse.

But this exquisite creature was an oasis that appeared in the midst of that abject desert. How eager he was to drink himself to surfeit of those crystalline, sparkling waters. His thoughts were a joyous, albeit disjointed jumble of fancies and fantasies. Part of him was terribly lonely and had been for quite some time. That bit of his spirit longed desperately for a partner... a regular lover whom he could learn to like more than the feeling of conquest he relished from a new bedmate. A bit of him was very much focused on that conquest here, and how charming and lovely he must have been to rate so superior a mate risking his livelihood just for a tumble with a human slave. Then there was, of course, that bestial bit- the mammalian sort, not the inner reptile- that was focused on the deeds upon which they would soon embark. He wondered at what Eros liked done to him, and what he had designs on doing to Khyan? He'd known some who spoke a commanding game at the bar, but preferred to be commanded in the bedroom. Perhaps Eros was the sort who liked to seem superior in public, just so they could be brought to heel in private. Or perhaps he was keen to claim Khyan like the Founders once claimed land abroad, with force and fire...

The flurry of divergent thoughts were narrowed, when Eros spoke again, explaining the peculiarities of his physical person.

"How fascinating..." Khyan wondered at the potential for such a person as a mate. He didn't even consider how ridiculous the notion was, with him being a slave, but whereas he'd grown bored or disinterested with most of his potential partners after a few weeks, he'd never made a go with someone who could change their appearance... potentially even their gender, if memory from his lessons at the Academia served.

Khyan looked a bit sharply to Eros at the mention of parts of his current physique having been leftover from the whims of a prior partner, and his reflex, which surprised him, was jealousy. He pursed his lips until he managed to force a smile. He cast a glance over his shoulder as they passed the doorman, and his expression was apologetic, but also a bit of the boastful. Who could blame him for taking advantage of this opportunity in the palm of his hand right now. He squeezed that four-fingered hand and leaned sidelong to place a blissful kiss on Eros' shoulder. Whatever tomorrow had in store, tonight Khyan would let himself feel something akin to love.

finis