Shenanigans [Pi]

[Pi dArtois]

She wasn’t in a hurry, how could she be. She wanted to stand there with the feel of his lips against hers, watching as he faded, faded and was gone leaving her lips sensitive to touch, her smile as soft as the chuckle that came right after.

Well, Pi thought as she pulled her own tomb. He didn’t give her the look that told her he thought she was crazy so that was something. Of course he might be humouring her too but wasn’t that what relationships were? Compromise and moments of give and take. No two people were perfectly made for eachother, and didn’t always agree. The difference in relationships that worked and those that didn’t was the conscious choice to try. Maybe Elliot did think she was out of her mind, but he was going to help her anyway and that to Pi was 90% of what she needed.

Taking her time she pulled her own tome and thought the words that would take her home, then into the crypt.

It had been seconds between him leaving and her following. Precious seconds where Elliot had taken off his shoes and socks at the door. Looking down at the mess at the entrance to their hideaway she toed off her own boots, letting momentum take her own socks with them until she was as barefoot as him. Then she followed his naked back, trying and failing to keep her gaze lifted off his ***. Pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it into the basket just inside the tiled bath door she went over to the sink to wash her face.

Unbuckling her jeans she peeled them down and off, leaving her underwear in place, using her foot to kick those in the general direction of the basket before leaning over the sink and turning the cold water on.

There were no cameras in the bathroom so she couldn’t check what she looked like but she figured before she jumped in the shower with him she’d take off the worst of the gunk. The water ran brown and red, dry and fresh blood and she was glad she had taken the time to get it off.

She had stopped being self conscious in front of Elliot. There was nothing about her body he hadn’t seen before in all forms of undress. She stood at the sink with no problem, leaning over and sluicing another slash of cold water before standing, the hand towel scrubbing her cheeks dry as she turned. She threw the towel at the basket too.

It was practical that they showered together she told herself, even as she grinned when she turned, her butt casually propped on the edge of the counter to settle in to watch the show. Sure it was practical. They were both covered in, who knew what, and they needed to get clean. It was efficient that they shared the task of… washing each other’s back. Her grin widened.

Sure, that’s exactly the reason why her gaze roamed his bare chest and lower to his man hairy big toes and back again. Efficiency.

“hrmmm” She teased, looking at the shower. “Is that hot enough for me too?”

[Lancaster]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

‹Elliot dArtois› The crypt was comfortable. It was their home. Elliot had grown accustomed to making his home everywhere and anywhere; that familiarity and comfort attached to a space within which one could relax, and be himself. No inhibitions. No concerns. The entire world had become Elliot’s home, he thought, though over the years he’d forgotten one vital thing that accompanied a real home; warmth. Not physical warmth, but a metaphorical warmth, blossoming in the chest and spilling to the limbs. An envelope of welcome that was specific to the space that one could call their own. Though in this instance, it was a space called their own.

It didn’t matter that he could sense Pi behind him. She was as part of home as the chairs and the mats. Or, maybe, any place would be home so long as Pi was there. Once he reached the bathroom – and Pi followed him inside – he removed the last of his clothing, covered in muck and gore. The basket was near full, and they’d have to do some washing, soon. Or some burning. Either or. He stepped into the shower stall and turned the tap on, inching more toward hot than cold; steaming hot, near boiling, because that’s what their skin needed to remove the worst of the crap.

He dipped beneath the stream of water and released a sigh of contentment. There was something to be said about a nice hot shower after a romp in the catacombs; watching the brown gunk swirl down the drain was like watching all that violence and slaughter disappear. He turned to face Pi as she addressed him. Long fingers pushed through sopping hair as he gave a light shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe you should come in here and tell me whether it’s hot enough for you,” he said, stepping to the side and making room for Pi.

‹Pi dArtois› Steam billowed out of the open shower door telling her clearly that he’d switched the water to hot, probably a little too hot which was exactly how she liked it. It’s not that they didn’t feel warmth or cold, or any other of the tactile feelings so much as they didn’t impact the body’s system. Pi could still enjoy the feel of the hot water on her skin, the sluice of chill water if that’s what she wanted. It just didn’t give her hypothermic shock as it would if she were human, or in the case of all that billowing steam, red hot water burns.

Shedding the last of her clothes she tossed them at the overflowing basket with a sigh. The thing about being a vampire, the mundane minutiae of life didn’t go away. You weren’t suddenly transported into a world where little house elves did all the work for you and you turned around and your clothes were neatly folded when you got home. Nope, at some point in time she would need to take an hour out of being a super awesome immortal and do her washing. She might even be convinced to do Elliot’s to but only because it was her turn and only because it was really hard to explain some of the stains their clothes got to a local Laundromat.

Stepping into the shower she took up the space he made for her, their height difference in this position ridiculously telling. The man was a veritable giant compared to her. Her head barely topped his shoulder and when she leaned back so the hot water sluiced down her face, the back of her head hit his chest. She smiled and continued to hog the water, stepping to the side when she needed soap and because, while it was fun to hog the water to herself. It was just as nice to share too.

Soap in hand she squeezed the liquid into her hand and handed him the bottle, lathering herself up and bumping him again when she crouched to soap up her legs and feet, getting all the spots in between.

‹Elliot dArtois› Showering was a practical affair. Soap and shampoo and teeth cleaning; sometimes used just to linger beneath the hot water for its curative effects. This wasn’t the first time he and Pi showered together. It had become like a dance, and they were each well-versed in the moves. Pi lathered herself in soap and Elliot was soon doing the same. The scent was of some kind of shea butter, and something else that Elliot couldn’t quite discern. But it at least it drowned out the scent of the decrepit.

As soon as he had finished lathering and washing away the filth clinging to his skin, Elliot reached for the shampoo, pouring a fair amount into his palm. Rather than tangle it in his own hair, however, he waited for Pi to turn toward him so that he could push it through hers. He grinned at her as he started to massage her hair until it was full of shampoo suds.

“I remember when my mother used to do this for me,” he said. Even as a child he’d sported longer hair; he hadn’t liked going to the hairdressers and his mother had liked it longer, anyway. Maybe she wished she’d had a girl. Either way, she’d wash Elliot’s hair for him, until he was old enough to do it for himself. It was one of the things he remembered about ‘home’; but now home was here, and he’d wash Pi’s hair for her. Just like his mother used to do for him.


‹Pi dArtois› “Hrmm.” She replied, hearing him but distracted for a moment from his words. It felt so good, his hands in her hair, massaging her scalp and using his fingers to wear away whatever tension there was in her body. All of it dripped out of her skull to the rhythm of his hands. Closing her eyes she let her neck muscles go limp until her head moved with the pressure he put into each. He pulled the suds to the tips of her hair, bunching it altogether on top of her head until she was sure her head resembled a big fluffy ice cream cone.

God, she so didn’t want to hear about his mother right now, or the fact he was remembering her when Pi was the one standing there naked. It so wasn’t the mental image she wanted to carry around while she was enjoying (too much) the feel of his hands on her. So she tilted her head up, mainly to let the water fall directly on her head and that kneading he was doing could work to wash out all the soap and also to look at him through wet eyelashes, smiling as she did.
It’s that they always had a shower together, or that every time they did, that it got salacious. So much as it was as good an opportunity as any (even if it went no further) to get their hands on one another. (well certainly as far as Pi was concerned). Tactile contact, even if that contact was no more than him bringing her hair to the top of her head to help her rinse out the soap. Or like now her hands helping the last of the soap from her hair wash off and down his chest.

The movements were simple and comforting. She didn’t take for granted, was in fact still getting used to being comfortable with this easy familiarity. But she was nearly there, it was nearly second nature and automatic to help him rinse as easily and comfortable as he had washing her hair for her. She guessed like his mother had done for him (not that she had any experience with such a thing) but more it was like that because that’s what people who loved one another did, the small touches and smiles and actions that told each other that here was someone who cared. Here is someone to trust.

Pi, if nothing else trusted Elliot with everything. “Think we’re clean enough to be presentable?” she asked. Knowing really that neither of them were planning to go anywhere for the rest of the night that ‘presentable’ was even necessary. What she was really asking is if all the grotty bits were off her even as her eyes roamed him and gave him the nod he was all… (she grinned in her head before thinking the last bit).. good.


‹Elliot dArtois› There were of course plenty of other things they could get up to in the shower. They were alone here, and there were hours yet until dawn. Yes, Elliot was remembering how his mother used to lather his own hair, but not because he was remembering his mother, specifically. Subconsciously he was only comparing this comfort to past comfort. It was only natural that his mother should come to mind. Because no, of course he would not imagine that he was here with his mother, not when he was imagining the different ways he could pin Pi to the wall, the way the two of them could add their own steam to the heat rising from the tiles.

They cleaned each other like only two people so comfortable with each other could do. His skin slick against hers, and vice versa. It was sensual, in a very domesticated way. And that’s what Elliot had become – more domestic then he had ever thought he would be. Truthfully, he’d seen his future just as his present had been, moving from place to place and never settling down any roots. And, if he were ever to get married, he figured it would be with a woman who shared his world view.

Except, his world view had changed completely. His world view was now Pi, and Harper Rock. And though he still got restless, he was happy, for the most part. Whatever woes he had he knew that Pi was there, to talk to. The thing that stopped him from doing exactly what he imagined was that it was the other way around, tonight. Pi had some woes, and though they had taken a detour, she wanted to talk to him about them.

And so he nodded, still grinning. He didn’t know what they were getting presentable for, but he still nodded. He turned off the water and stepped from the shower, reaching for a fluffy white towel, holding it out, open wide, for Pi to step into.

‹Pi dArtois› Pi took an extra second to wring out her hair, her small hands scooping her went hair back then squeezing the ends before she stepped out, straight into the towel he held for her. It was so domestic, how they worked together. Did a year… no, two years? God, it was nearly two years now. She stopped mid motion the towel half wrapped around her as she had the thought. Nearly two years. Her mouth wanted to drop open. She wanted to stare up at the man who held the tips of the towel in his hands, staring down at her, probably wondering what in the hell was taking her so long. She grinned.

She couldn’t really help herself, because she’d been touching him in the shower and she felt all warm and cozy and satisfied, like a bit cat who had managed to convince its human to sit and pet it for hours on end. And then there was that looming two years in her mind and she thought about the next two years of showers just like this one, or a shower like the first they had taken together where he’d scooped her up and made a meal of her mouth, and hers of his.

She wanted to make a meal now, in remembrance, in benediction of what they had before, what they had now and what they could possibly get themselves into in the future. Jesus, she thought, two years. Stretching up, leaving him holding the towel, squashing it between them so she was plastered to him with nothing but the towel between. She kissed him. Pi might have wanted to devour, like they had the first time, but she tempered it into something softer, inviting and searching. The brush of her lips was the merest touch and her smile softer still. The eyes she raised to him were playful.

“I think … no matter whether we get Canidae to a point of functionality or not. I think I rather like the idea of spending eternity having showers with you.” She said, her words nearly purred. “You give very good… shampoo.”

‹Elliot dArtois› Elliot wrapped his long arms – towel and all – around Pi as she pushed herself up to kiss him. He had to lean down a little, of course, but that wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. A moment had passed where they’d just stood there staring at each other, and Elliot wanted to know what was passing through Pi’s mind. The vibrations that fizzled through the air between them at least told him what it was she was feeling; surprise. Only a small taste of surprise, however; otherwise, he could feel from her only what he himself was feeling. Warmth, desire, and comfort.

Even when wet, Elliot’s hair could not be controlled. The black, lank lengths of it fell forward as his lips reacted to Pi’s, opening to welcome the kiss, tongue tentatively sliding over the softness of her pout as he hugged her a little tighter. His fingers curled into flesh of her hip, humming slightly as she pulled away and spoke. He reached up, and pushed his fingers through her hair, combing it a little.

“Mmm, ditto, my love,” he said. He was still leaning down a little, and brushed a kiss over her temple. She smelled like soap and shampoo. “Canidae will always be Canidae but it will fluctuate and change, in time. Because we have so much time. And I’m always going to be here for you,” he said, and he wasn’t lying. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

‹Pi dArtois› Peeling the towel out of his fingers she haphazardly let it hang down her back, leaving the back completely open, like a dysfunctional hospital gown (if hospital gowns were towels wrapped around you like a sarong). The only thing holding the thing up were her arms now held down her side, her hands casually resting on his hips.

She loved the feel of his lips on hers and smoldered at him thinking that maybe their ‘talk’ and ‘planning for the future’ could surely wait. They had so much time. More time than either of them knew what to do with. Life took on a less rushed urgency when you considered all the time they had to live it.

Teetering on tiptoe she urged his head down again and sank deeper into this kiss. His hair fell forward and tickled against her face, her lips molded to his, her tongue darting forward to play with his. Sometimes kisses were the precursor to something else, something deeper and more urgent, sometimes they were just a way to express how you felt in just that moment, a taste, touching and pulling apart. They say the best part of new love were the slow moments and tongue kissing. They also said a good way to keep love interesting is to never stop kissing like you were still learning the shape of your lovers lips.

She felt that now, like she was learning the taste of him over and over again, like it was still as new as the first time, a rediscovery. She licked at his lower lip, pulling it into her mouth and smiled against the plump lip she held captured before letting it go. She moved her lips to his shoulder, knowing that keeping him leaned forward would give him a crick in his neck, she kisses the hollow of his shoulder, before rubbing her cheek across the place her lips at been. Droplets of water trailed down his skin when she realised that they were both still soaking wet.

“Well, we can’t stand here soaking wet all night.” She teased before, stepping around him, dragging a finger across his stomach and hip before falling away as she walked out the bathroom door.


‹Elliot dArtois› Elliot grinned. The woman was a minx, whether she knew it or not. One would never guess that she wasn’t practiced in the art of seduction. He turned to watch her as she left the bathroom, her hips swaying and her backside enticing in all its nakedness. They were dripping wet, yes, he more so than her. The only water that had been taken away from his skin was from where the towel had been pressed up between them. Pi hadn’t suggested that they get dry, however; she hadn’t retrieved another towel to mop the water from his hair or his shoulders. No, instead, she suggested more with body than with words that they move elsewhere. That they remain soaking wet, but maybe make themselves more comfortable while they were at it.

And so he didn’t grab a towel. He didn’t take his time before following Pi out the door, the trail her finger had left across stomach and hip burned with silent suggestion – the things that didn’t need to be said. His feet left wet prints upon the floor as he followed. He was starting to think that perhaps Pi had forgotten about the conversation she had instigated in the raid; that snuggling and talking weren’t really on the agenda. Not to begin with, anyway. Ah, the memories – how this scene resembled, so clearly, the first night they’d committed themselves to one another.

As if to mirror that night, Elliot strode forward to sweep the petite woman up into his arms. He was far stronger now than he was that night, so weak and sickly. He thought himself a man worthier of Pi’s love, now, than he was then. He carried her to the bed, laughing, and laid her out against the pillows, on top of the duvet. The towel was an obstacle, and he peeled it away from Pi, tossing it away before lowering himself over her.

“Is this more what you had in mind?” he asked with a teasing tone that rivaled that of Pi’s previously.

[Pi dArtois]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


‹Pi dArtois› She laughed as he swept her up and into his arms which gave her the perfect opportunity to bury her face in the hollow where his neck curved into this shoulder. And licked, before smoothing her lips over his skin. Her arms reached up to curve around the back of his neck to link there while she made like a damsel (not in distress) and enjoyed the ride. This hadn’t taken long, this comfort they’d found with one another and she couldn’t imagine being this open with anyone else. Kicking her legs out she pulled them in so he could navigate the doorway to the bedroom.

When he lowered himself to cover her she met him halfway, propped on one elbow to cup a proprietary hand on his neck. A grip he had used on her many times in the past, not to control but to help guide her lips to his, to tangle her fingers in his wet hair and feel the fine black mass.

They were meant to be talking and they would. Eventually. He was going to help her brainstorm how in the world they could make Canide better, but there was plenty of time for that, all the time in the world. Yes, this is exactly what she had in mind when she trailed a finger along his belly and felt the muscle jump under her touch. She still planned to pick his brain and get him to help her figure out what to do. Afterwards.

All the time in the world. Yes that’s what they had. Curling one leg up to curve around his thigh she grinned. “Yes, I think this is exactly right.” She said before closing the distance so she could speak against his lips. “Don’t worry… I haven’t forgotten about picking your brain… but first. This.”

‹Elliot dArtois› The first time they’d made love, they’d approached each other with tentative exploration; a gentle and yet desperate haste to learn each what the other liked, and how their bodies might fit together. Every two people fit together differently, and yet Elliot had discovered in Pi a partner unlike any other. Perhaps it was only because they’d known each other before they ever came together. A deeper knowledge of personality, of opinions, of likes and dislikes, led to a fluidity in their love. A grace, as the moved together. A dance, the song which only they could hear. A shared, secret melody.

Elliot played Pi like she was one of his beloved instruments – his favourite. He plucked at the strings of her wants and needs, focusing on every movement, every gasp, every whisper to tune those strings, to make them sing at a perfect pitch. All they had was time, and so he did not rush. Women need more attention, he knew. That was, at least, something that all his years had taught him. He smothered Pi with loving attention, stoking her fire to fever.

The sheets drank up the water that clung to their bodies, though as they rolled and tumbled, the dampness resembled the natural sweat that their bodies no longer shed. Power was given and taken away; there were no hard lines between submissive and dominant. There was no such thing. They were equal, they each gave and they each took in equal amounts.

Elliot didn’t know how long it was before they were laying side by side, tangled up among the sheets. His hair was mostly dry, by now – his head resting against the pillow and his eyes heavy lidded in complete and utter satiation.


‹Pi dArtois› She realised that she’d never had this when she was a human. She couldn’t have compared this same feeling of exhaustion to experiences previous to this because she hadn’t had any. Well, not any she wanted to recall. But she couldn’t imagine how it could compare. The pleasant exhaustion when your limbs felt almost separate from your body and they flopped at the side of your body as if nothing on this earth could move them.

Pi tangled her legs with his, or maybe they just fell that way and neither of them had the energy to move separate them. And she wasn’t going to try. She felt too good, too filled and worn out. She realised the error of her decision because now, all she wanted to do was flopped to her side of the bed, spread eagle, close her eyes and nap. Or curl up into a ball with her nose tucked into the curve of his arm and… nap. Or maybe stay exactly where she was, half sprawled over his chest her mouth inches from his nipple… and nap.

Maybe this was exactly how they should undertake a conversation about their family, after being as close as two people could get, in the aftermath of loving one another and so tired there wasn’t a chance in hell they could find the energy to be annoyed at what either of them said. Stroking a lazy hand down his chest, she watched the movement through half lid eyes. “God, I know we need to talk… but I can barely think. You … have very very good.. hands and… lips and…” she smiled against his chest. “Other things.”

‹Elliot dArtois› The way she said it had Elliot smiling. As if they were embroiled in some lover’s tiff that they needed to talk about, otherwise they’d have a weight on their combined shoulders that wouldn’t be shifted. Pi needed to talk. This was a problem that percolated in the back of Pi’s mind, not Elliot’s. It should, and he felt slightly ashamed that he didn’t. He knew he would have to be honest with Pi; that he had his own problems with Canidae and its members that she wouldn’t like. But maybe they’d be able to talk it through reasonably.

Thing was, he tended to avoid the Den more often than not. Tytonidae had got through. They’d come to slaughter a member of their own and not a finger had been lifted to protect her, or avenge her. And not just Madison, but Cartis too. And he supposed himself, and any of the others who might intend or even accidentally break the goddamned masquerade. Maybe, subconsciously, he was avoiding the talk. And maybe why he was so keen to continue avoiding the conversation they needed to have.

“Mmm, and you have very nice skin, and I love the colour of your eyes, and the song that you sing when I touch you just right,” he rumbled. Their legs remained tangled, and Elliot rolled toward Pi, wrapping his arm around her, his lips pressing against the top of her head.


‹Pi dArtois› Pi closed her eyes and let her mind drift for a while. She hummed an affirmation answer to his words, smiling against his chest. They had come back to talk but she wasn’t so eager to jump into the discussion and ruin the moment. She was tempted to procrastinate the discussion and avoid it for a while longer, but that hardly seemed fair. Not to any of those in d’Artois that might still give a rats ***, that is. Pi, right now, wasn’t sure just how many did. Reilly surely, Madison in some part, which surprised Pi considering how Madison ended up and that was about it. Maybe Ruth and Spike, maybe not Spike, Pi couldn’t be sure and since Pi had been so absent she was hoping Elliot could fill the gaps. Despite himself he was the sort of person people gravitated to, despite themselves.

His affability was a bit like hard drugs. Easy to get addicted to, hard to break and before you consciously thought about it, you returned to him again and again. She knew others felt the same way because nearly everyone who met him did exactly that. They came back again and again. If anyone could give her the state of play about where people’s minds were, he would.

She closed her eyes but she knew this conversation wouldn’t be put off. She couldn’t let it be. Not if she was actually telling the truth and she really did want to do something that would make Canidae better. She ended up curled in his arms anyway, her small hand still now, laid on his chest beside the cheek pressed against his skin. She spoke but she didn’t raise her head or attempt to look him in the eye. Her voice bounced against his chest. “Tell me… what you think, about… Canidae.” She opened, not sure where to lead him, so choosing instead to leave the beginning all in his court.

‹Elliot dArtois› Ah, there it was. The inevitable conversation that she wanted, needed to have. Elliot mumbled incoherently against Pi’s hair before he sighed, curling his toes into the cold sheets as he made himself just that tiny bit more comfortable. He thought about the question for a few long seconds before he sighed, and lifted his face. His head settled against the pillow and he stared into space – the wall of the bedroom, the dresser drawers, filled with his clothes and hers. Half and half. Fully domesticated. It made him smile, just briefly. And then his eyes closed, as he half focused on the answer.

“Canidae. A group we created to function like a faction, to what end I don’t know. What do I think? I think it’s not working. For reasons that I’ve already stated,” he said, words slow and languid, the latter released with a sigh. He didn’t know what else to say, not really. Not in regards to that singular questions, anyway.

“I know what you want from me. You want for me to have an answer about how to fix it. I don’t. If it were up to me, I’d open that Den to all members of d’Artois. At least, that’s what I thought to begin with, but we have members of Tytonidae in our numbers, and I know you don’t like it, but I … don’t like them around,” he said, and that was a gentle way of putting it. He sighed again. “That aside, if that weren’t a factor, I’d make the Den a safe haven for all of d’Artois. But, if you want to keep it separate from d’Artois, you have to give it a purpose. If you were going to give Candiae a purpose, Pi, what would it be?” he asked, turning the questions back around on her.

‹Pi dArtois› "To keep us safe." she replied quickly although what he said hadn't made her want to open her eyes. She wasn't surprised to hear what he said about Tytonidae, the absolute lack of change in his opinion about that group didn't surprise her and in its way made her smile. She doubt he would change his opinion, as unlikely she would change hers. This was comforting to her as well, in its way.

“Somehow, I’d like to keep them as safe as we can. I agree… open it up to all d’Artois.” She opened her eyes then, staring into the dark lit room, picking out shadow shrouded furniture. “Charles doesn’t have access to the Den any…. MERDE!” Pi’s eyes widened and she sat up, not caring that the sheet slipped off her body to pool around her waist or that her once languid state of mind had been firmly wiped clean. “It wasn’t Charles…” she blinked in sudden understanding. “He doesn’t have access to the Den anymore. I cut him off… I … knew to keep us safe I had to stop those who would hunt in our… but it wasn’t him. It can’t have been.”

Pi knew who it had to be, but she wanted to be sure, for someone else to put the name out that flashed like a neon sign in her mind. Scooping the sheet up and tucking it around herself like a white toga she spun quickly, knocking Elliot’s thigh in her hurry, but wanting to face him. Her movement dragged the sheet across his body but not so much it uncovered him totally. Which was good. You just can’t have a serious conversation half naked. It just wasn’t possible. “You… do know you know who else of us is in Tytonidae?” she asked Elliot, her gaze sharp. “Who else in our family hunt with them?”

‹Elliot dArtois› Pi agreed with Elliot far too quickly. He didn’t expect it to be so. He expect there to be some kind of argument. There was none. He was equally surprised by Pi’s quickness in movement; the way she sat up, whipped the sheet away, and turned to him with that question burning in her eyes.

Elliot had refrained from talking to Pi much about Charles. It was a sore subject, and Elliot wanted only to rip the man limb from limb – for more reasons than one. He had plenty of reasons to hate Doc. It warmed him to be reassured that Pi had revoked Doc’s access, and that it wasn’t just Doc who’d chosen to leave of his own accord. Elliot rolled back onto his back; his hands had flown wide as the woman they were wrapped around flung from their grasp. They dropped, now, one onto empty sheets, and the other to curl around behind Pi’s backside. He was still languid, semi-relaxed. His brow furrowed.

He narrowed his eyes. Was it a trick question? “Cat. Catherine. She always… she was always more loyal to him than to us,” Elliot said, unable to voice the guy’s name.

‹Pi dArtois› "Cat" she whispered, knowing deep down that it was only an echo of the name that had flown through her mind the moment she realised it couldn’t have been Doc. Slumping on his chest with a deep sigh she flopped there like a landed trout and sighed again, loudly. “It was Cat.” She said again. “I’ve been trying to figure out how they did it. I thought it was Charles, that somehow he’d figured out a way to get in without access…but I couldn’t find the loophole. I didn’t even think about anyone else, especially not her.”

The hand that had clutched the sheet to her, let go, her knuckles filling with blood now that she’d released her death grip on the heavy cotton. Her fingers flowed over her eye and forehead with a weary swipe. “I’ll need to revoke her access. I should have considered someone other than him.. remembered that she had joined Tytonidae too. Dammit.”

Raising herself until her chin rested on his chest she looked at him then. “The Den was created to keep our family safe. So even if someone like Tytonidae hunted, that they would need to shed blood to find the people we call ours. That’s why we created it… and its sole purpose was meant, just for that.” The sigh that escaped her then was melancholy. “We will need to keep Canidae, if only to ensure we can revoke access and keep access locked down… but yes, lets open it to all d’Artois.” She paused, considered, then added the qualifier. “All of d’Artois except those who hunt with any group that would hunt us. The one rule, is that any who help an outside force enter our place, will be immediately evicted. No exclusions.” Pi watched his face, waiting for his opinion on her rather strident statement.

‹Elliot dArtois› Elliot’s hand meanders up to trace lazy circles upon Pi’s bare back. It makes him happy, to hear Pi voice the sentiments that she was currently voicing. They sounded so anti Tytonidae. He hadn’t thought to bring it up. He had thought that, given her recent try to join the ranks of the murderous faction, that she’d not have blinked at an eye at their entrance to the Den. Though he wouldn’t want to believe that she’d be capable of handing over any of their own – he was afraid to bring it up, regardless. He was afraid of the arguments and the confrontation. Yes, he was probably a coward, running away from these things. He sighed. He shouldn’t have run away.

“Yes, revoke her access,” he said. He’d been thinking. “We let everyone have access. All d’Artois, except those who would hunt our own. We risk that they would turn on us, but we can be optimistic. If we give them trust, they will give it return. If we give them loyalty straight off the bat, then maybe we’ll get it back tenfold. Open our arms. Make it welcoming, rather than exclusive. And I think if we deny access to Tytonidae, it’ll make the majority happy,” he said. And that’s exactly what he thought – the rift it had caused the first time Tytonidae had broken in was the straw that broke the horse’s back. They were scattered. They didn’t trust the safety of the Den. And why should they?

“Are you going to announce this? Publicly? Tell them about the new… rules?”

‹Pi dArtois› “Hrmm.” She murmured quietly in agreement at his words, enjoying the play of his hand on her back, letting soothe her back into the quiet place where it was just her and him and this moment together. “Yes, we should.. all of that. It’s time to open it up.” Closing her eyes again she let the languid feeling roll back over her, her mind relaxing and the sense of rightness reasserted itself. Turning her head she pillowed her head on his chest in that place that seemed to have been made just for her.

“I’ll announce it. And I’ll talk to Cat… set something up before I take away access. But I will.” Her own hand soothed him too, as if it moved on its own, a slow stroke and then another before it stopped in place next to her cheek. Her flat palm lay on his chest. “We aren’t strong enough to fight Tytonidae if they try to force their way in, but can not give them the ability through those in our family who are members, to have free access.”

She smiled then, eyes closing as she relaxed completely. “See?” her voice sleepy. “That brain picking wasn’t so bad at all was it?” She teased. Yawning quietly she did then what she’d wanted to do before, slip quietly into a satiated state in his arms. One that edged sleep. “Tomorrow.. it can wait. For tomorrow.”

‹Elliot dArtois› They are content, laying there in each other’s arms. Elliot was smiling as Pi settled herself over him; as she yawned. The precursor to sleep. And she could stay right where she was, too – Elliot wouldn’t be moving in the middle of the day. He wouldn’t shift due to pins and needles. He wouldn’t need to pee. He would be dead to the world, a weight unshifted unless in severe pain.

“Mmm, maybe one day we can give back as much as they throw at us,” Elliot mumbled quietly. Strange, how his mind was turning. Madison had asked him to join her; to join with her in actively trying to overthrow Tytonidae’s tyranny. He had declined. He had backtracked. Why? Because he loved Pi. It all came back down to Pi. As stubborn as he could be, as angry, as furious as he was when she said she was going to go join them, he couldn’t actively stand against her. Not like that.

But if she’d been at his side? If it were Pi, suggesting such a coo? If together, she and he were to subconsciously create a force that could withstand Tytonidae’s massacring ways? Then yes. He would do it. He would do it if there was no chance that he would lose her along the way. Both arms wrapped around Pi as they lay there. He hugged her a little tighter. Happy to stay like that, until the two of them woke again… the next night. Whatever that night might bring.