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"Hastur is like, a million years old, and I bet you're the first shieldmate he's ever had. Give him time. He's also like, super autistic. Whatever that means," Ifris is experimenting with her nails, watching them rise and fall into points before settling on a length. "Hey, have you been on a date with him? I bet he doesn't even know what you like besides sleeze and violence. If you guys are just having sex it's gonna be hard for a Water to be able to spend a lot of time with a Shadow like that. I didn't know Karson liked these ugly ass flowers 'til the last time we had a moment together. Literally had to get Tata to show me how to take care of them. I bet you could get him to crawl out of his sarcophagus like the weird yellow freak he is over a fruitbowl."

It's funny how she's made herself welcome among the lower rankings of the Order. She likes Axe, even if he bullied her a bit when they first met, even if she ISNT a quadruped like her old man. He's complex and bites and he's figuring out this relationship thing just like she is.

@inkedstone || Ifris, continued

"Talking about maps after sex is a lame-ass way to do aftercare and he should know better." Axe was expecting more than a towel and a lecture on how to read the key on ancient Venusian shipping routes. "If he really wants to pull me, I feel like he'd, I dunno, praise my performance or my body or, like...get me a fucking snack?" His Shieldmate was great at that. Always took care of him. Here he is again, mourning the dead and comparing a dead being nobody cared about with one of the highest-ranked Hounds of the order. This is exactly why he should cut off this affair now before it ends with him on the execution block.

Axe is cleaning gore off of his bullet belt. Nobody makes him wear that thing. The ammunition type isn't even of Isore make. What he noticed on there has probably been in place for half a damn cycle. This is what happens when you're trapped on long flights. You notice things, and you fucking think. Two things Axe would rather NEVER do again.

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"I don't hate you," Iros says uncomfortably gently. "You really put a weird thingy on me when you project all that on me. I think that's part of the problem of letting you guys watch human holos when you were younger."

Iros sits up, shaking himself out briefly like a wet dog.

"That's not what Kal said in the logs," is this some kind of interrogation? Is he just going out of his way to make Cid as uncomfortable as possible. "Dude I'm stupid but I'm not so stupid I can't see that he begged me to pick up up because you couldn't take it. I really hoped it would..."

Iros's morality is confusing and conflicting and annoying, to be fair. He flip-flops on being pro-Order, pro-slavery, pro everything under the two suns, then he's against it. He's telling Cid while chaining him up that what he did with those kids was cute and noble, then immediately chastising him for it. What does he believe? Is he doing it on purpose?

"You're being a good boy," not that he is one, just that he's acting like one. It's not said with the usual praise Iros reserves for his pets. "O didn't bring you here just to fuck you. I actually have something I need your help with. I didn't even tell your parents you were coming, so to sweeten this deal I won't tell them and I'll let you go home to the temple without having to see them. But we gotta talk about this."

That's the truth. Nothing he says here is going to be taken well. Nothing he says here is going to be easy for him to stomach, either. This is the kid of truth that he doesn't like to face about himself. He curls in a little bit tighter on himself, arms folded against his chest, knees drawn up. It's not over until Iros tells him to get cleaned up and get out. He knows that much.

"Kal asked me every single day. Begged me. I didn't like hearing him beg. The more he did it, the worse I felt. The whole time, it was like there were these...hooks in my heart. My soul. Dragging me back towards here. Every single time he'd say things like that, they dug in deeper. And the more that got added, the weaker my resolve to stay became. I knew you wanted me gone for good. Us both being out of your way was a good thing, right...? But after everything, you and Adred..." He falls silent, gaze anywhere but on Iros.

The simple truth? He couldn't live without this anymore.

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"Uh, it's a phone, like I use it to call my moms and stuff," the technology the Khazen possesses is insane, if Jordan had any idea how many galaxies away Isore is and how much bullshit had to go in calling the small farmhouse his family owns, it might blow his mind. "It's prepay so don't like, call someone in Europe or something. Shit's expensive.

Tall. Can quadrupeds be considered tall? Nearly finished, he swings down again and lands with a light thud. He doesn't weigh as much as he looks, possibly thanks to whatever goop is currently holding his molecular structure together.

"Oh for real dude? Cool. I can't eat it, even though it's tasty. Makes me so sick I puke for days. Stuff like eggs and cheese is all bueno. Cheese is like, my favorite thing I've ever. I also fucking LOVE gummies, but they're made out of like, pig bones or something. The vegan ones are nasty."

"Iunno, I like tall guys," he says as he snatches the phone and and the key. "Next time you buy one of these cheese packs you can just give the meat to me. No point in throwing it out."

He shifts so he's on his ass instead of crouching like the little gremlin he is. "What kind of 80s space tech is this?" he asks as he flips the phone and turns it all over, though doesn't press any buttons. Then he turns his attention to the key, letting it rest in his palm. This is less ripe for teasing as he knows he has his own fair amount of strange keys.

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"You think with human moralities. Sorry dude, I'm not human. Lesser species with a little bit of sentience get more than an air lock at least! So don't worry about it. But doesn't matter if aliens come in peace, we're what we are. We're going to figure out how to assimilate you somehow."

It's a promise. Iros is...strange. Like he's trying very hard to seem like he doesn't care, but there's an anxiety there, like he's hoping Viktor will cooperate. He's a galactic warlord, he's been told to stop being nice to his captives and start making them understand what he is.

He has no heartbeat and his thoughts are covered by a kind of static, what would it be like if Viktor made a connection to him? Would he single handedly be able to bring one of the strongest Khazen to his fold?

"Also not a king. Kind of. Like I sit in a big chair sometimes but my superior is the one who funnels shit to me. My day to day is sleeping in my goop pool and thriving on digital archives of Sex in the City. I wish I knew what city Carrie was from...Anyway, like I said. Symbolic. And I would like to keep this peaceful between us, Harold. What kinds of stuff can you do?"

If Iros knew of Viktor's connection to Silco, it could be turned into a dangerous way to control the both of them just a little bit more. Would Viktor be able- be willing- to sacrifice his lover to escape from this place? He's not been tested in that particular way yet. Time will tell whether sanity or selfishness wins out.

"Some call me as such. I prefer the term Herald." Viktor's posture remains relaxed, no distress evident, even at the past-tense jab about his lover. "I arrived here in good faith. This is not the reception I expected. I am...disappointed in your hastiness. I expected better of a so-called god. Let alone a king. Though...monarchs, the rich, they all do seem to fail in the end. And fall."

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Hi, come get some art

Please send all inquiries at acedhampir@gmail.com

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I'm here, I'm queer, I'm disabled, and I have debilitating mental health issues. Still gonna fight for my fights as a trans person and still gonna fight to be my authentic self. I don't have time to hide in my bedroom when my very existence is based on old white men's decisions.

Protest. Be fucking seen.

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Better Lovers - The Flowering

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The tendril snaps out like a snake, hooking around the can until it brings it over towards Iros' outstretched hand.

"I got a base form," he answers simply. "Think of it like genetics. I wasn't born into a pile of goop...as least I think I wasn't...." He makes a mental note to call his moms about that. "I hate being big. Cause I forget I'm not like, a dude, y'know, and then I'm knockin' shit over and everything...also your furniture is too small for my big ass."

Iros has a few things in there just tossed in, a foldable screwdriver, a Disney branded cheese snack with the meat cut out and half the crackers gone, and a very strange looking key attached to a chain. He also has his phone there, which is a bright red jitterbug.

Jordan, meanwhile, files the slip up into his growing folder of the mystery of Iros to mull over and piece together later. He drops into a full crouch in one motion, poking through the gear now that he's been given permission. The red is easily located and tossed with perfect aim without Jordan even looking at him, as the demigod continues to poke through the bag to see what other things he can find.

The mention of his height does get his attention and he looks over his shoulder at him, looking him up and down once. "If you're a shape shifter, aren't you technically any size you want to be?" He's a bit envious, even if he won't admit it.

"And by spite." His hand shoots back into the bag. "What's this?"

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Friendly reminder Iros is a villain by human standards but a legend by Khazen ones. He doesn't believe the atrocities he's committed are "bad", though he has periods where he does seek guidance from people he knows oppose him and the things he does. He doesn't regret joining the Order. His kids, his mates, and his closest friends would all be lost if he hasn't. But Isore's caste system would be much less oppressive.

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Even gods are addicted to his goop, or what Iros calls the secretions from his tendrils. Even inorganics like the Khazen aren't immune to it, and it's only gotten more powerful as he's aged. It makes him wonder what it could do to an entire colony of captives, maybe, if he so felt like acquiring another one. Iros can feel every movement, too. He can feel the squeeze as if someone's grabbing his arm, and he can feel Viktor's pretty little pussy as it slides, the nerves making the weird appendage tense up just slightly.

"Look at you. This really didn't take too long," despite how good it feels, Iros is managing to keep his face straight. "What about another one? You know I climax with these things too."

Iros looks at his hands, realizing he has something special here. It's then he finally strips off his uniform and kicks it aside.

"I'm gonna get you nice and loosened up," the tendril between Viktor's legs curls momentarily before it moves to push them open, still sticky and oozing that lovely gel. "And then I'm gonna transform. Gonna show you what I look like," as promised, his hands are sliding over both his legs, gently sliding over the strange metallic texture of Viktor's skin. "I'm gonna knock you up like that. I don't weigh a lot. I won't crush you. Just get my cock and maybe a tentacle up there and see how much I got in me before I get tired. Then you can see your mate. How's that sound? Use your words. I want you to tell me you want me inside you. You want my come. Don't worry, I don't think I'm compatible with humans anyway."

@inkedstone || Iros

It's not the first time, or the second. It's not even the first week. And so, exhausted, Viktor tips his chin up at the pressure around his throat and rocks his hips, grinding against the tendril that's pressed between his thighs. He knows what Iros wants. He's going to deliver. That makes him good. That lets him rest. That gets him one step closer to his promised reward.

He loves it. He hates it. He doesn't know if he could bear losing it.

Rough fingertips press between his lips, which part to allow them in. He sucks- does not bite. Knows those are going to end up inside of him eventually. His sore wrists, bound behind his back and crossed tightly, strain against his bonds. If he behaves, he knows those will come off- even if just so manipulating him is easier.

A muffled sigh slips from him as the tendril presses up more firmly against him. It's slick. It's less grinding and more sliding at this point- insistent rubbing rather than friction. He could get himself off like this. Iros might just encourage it, but he won't assume.

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@who-is-muses contined from here

She has no fingers to be seen, but with a wriggle of whatever material's she made of she manages to mimic something similar to a human hand off the one offered near her. Iros seems to be please until she opens her metaphorical mouth.

"You look like a cop. Dad said space cops are pigs and deserve to be 'shitfucked into the nearest airlock-"

"I've never said anything about space cops like that," Iros interrupts, handing his daughter a tablet that's currently flashing colors the human's eyes may not be able to pick up. Distracted, Iros puts his hands on his hips and sighs,

"Lantern, or whatever. Y'all are like some kinda space...the word I don't want to use is cop. But I've seen you guys with your pretty rings, you know none of the Khazen have ever been chosen for that."

He doesn't notice his slip. Khazen will probably buzz that ring more than Eye-Sore ever would.

"This is educational. If I was gonna blow up a moon with a bunch of people on it, you think I'd do it with a child and one whole shuttle? We have minor defense weapons, nothing that can even breach the atmosphere below.

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"Kinda? Like...Look, most Khazen never see our gods 'cause they're os fucking old and we're so scattered across the galaxy that it's like...the gods ascend and then become husks. Like they're giving their bodies to us to uh...use as stations and colonies. And they're like, radiating a shit ton of ...I don't know what the word for that is in English... Elemental power? Words don't feel right...Anyway it's a lot to comprehend, I wish you could read our languages better, 'cause the books explain it better than me."

Kal leans in, though, and whispers in Stu's ear.

"Dad doesn't even know what it means. He's an atheist. But you can't tell anyone," that's a hefty secret. "So I uh...didn't study much like I was supposed to. So I'm still learning new stuff every rime we meet up about the gods."

Kal seems a bit stupid, too, but he gets it from Iros for sure.

"I like learning about the gods. Maybe I'll be old as shit like Cayne and get to go to some of the satellites. Ras is really good at worshiping with those...yoga moves."

Is yoga the right word?

Starter for @inkedstone || Kal

It did not take long for 2D to determine he prefers this hapless priest to his more intense sister. Hanging out with Kal is chill. He gets snacks, he gets to play video games, he gets to learn more about Isore culture and, when he's lucky, get to sleep uninterrupted on the best couch he's found since leaving Earth behind. Hell- he likes Cid too. He understands life in this monastery would be boring, but it's a nice break while Iros is off-planet. Stu supposes it's a bit like finding a dog sitter. He'd be insulted, but the sting of his situation wore of a long time ago.

"Dunno if I understand, to-to be honest with you. Your gods are just...you?" Stu's always been a spiritual man, and he's held fast to that, even in the face of his new reality. His Buddhism's been met with apathy from Iros, but he's been allowed to practice- thanks in large part to the terrifying third man of the house. Here's to you, Ras Viks. "If it's j-just you, why do you need...ehm, ANY of this? Isn't it just history, then? Not religion? 'Course, sometimes...sometimes it's both at once."

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BURNLIKEME

indie, selective 2D from the band Gorillaz para, multipara, and novella welcome OC & crossover friendly

written by Sarge rules & bio

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"Do you want like...a basket?" He looks ridiculous. Ifris does help, though, taking a few of the chosen objects and showing her confusion right on her face. "Graphic novels?"

There's probably collections on the computers the humans are allowed to use. Hastur would know, and she makes a mental note to ask the elder hound to do his thing where he rambles and talks about his objects, she's certain he'd know.

"I feel stupid...I don't know what any of this stuff is. It's all junk some of the officers bring back from the colonies, but I wasn't serving when I was in the fleet, so I've never done much outside of my house.

"I'm a musician!" He offers this brightly, abruptly finding something they can talk about as something closer to equals- only because he knows more than she does, and that gives him the ability to briefly be more than an exotic pet. "I could, ehm, try to help you learn. If you want. I'm good with guitar, but my daughter's better." He feels like this woman's a safe enough person to put in Noodle's orbit. God knows the lot of them will need allies and friends to survive this new life.

"I can't see so well to read. I usually go for audiobooks." He points up towards his eyes, figuring that will make the reason why clear. "I'd still like to see them. I like graphic novels and comics."

He follows close on her heels and as they explore, he manages to find a few things that excite him very much. He's careful about how much he asks for and makes sure to prioritize the art supplies for Iros. He's usually a very forgetful man, but right now he can't afford to fuck up and miss out on endearing himself to his new benefactor. Those scrawny limbs can carry more than it seems they should be able to, as well.

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@niratias continued from here

"You're so full of shit it's borderline cute," he's not blind to Cid's "work face" when he's around members of the order. The Stone has his back pressed against an ornately carved headboard with his knees drawn up to his chest. "I just don't feel anything about you anymore. My kid's lover, my best friend's kid, I just don't fucking care. I wish you would be more grateful. That used to really make me mad. You didn't fucking care and now I don't care. Part of me always hoped you wouldn't pussy out when you went to Terra, but...you let Kal talk you into coming back."

Oh, this has become unformattable very quickly/.

"Why'd you do that, Cidril? I don't want to hear it's because of me, you got so many factors in your life that you've turned out to be a massive fuck up. Wasn't 'cause you missed your parents, either. I just want to know why. Off the record. I won't punish you 'cause you're gonna say something I don't like and it's not fair."