Incentive to Stay [closed]

[Storyteller]

Adley Reed
There was an allurist in the new place now. The new place that still didn’t have all its furnishings beyond the creature comforts – the soft things, like the cushions and the bed and the blankets that covered the bed. There was the large, claw-foot bathtub and the washing machine and the dryer, because vampires tended to need exceptionally good cleaning appliances (and the dryer kept the towels nice and fluffy). What the crypt lacked was kitchenware. No fridge or microwave or oven, the cupboards mostly empty. Adley didn’t keep blood packs, as he preferred his blood fresh (or as fresh as vampire blood can be). He revelled in the intimacy of it. The old place had had a fridge and all the kitchen utensils because everyone else Adley had ever been surrounded by were allurists. He’d wondered if he’d have something against them, given how they all seemed to disappear.

Adley Reed
But he had nothing against Grayson, though he was still worried Grayson would disappear. Which was why Adley had bought the fridge. It was a two-door fridge – one of those swish ones with the ice dispenser in the door of the freezer. How much food could one allurist keep? Adley didn’t know, but now Grayson could keep as much as he wanted (and Kaspar would probably appreciate the appliance, too). There were two men hefting the box into the kitchen; they were a little concerned about the location of their delivery, and Adley had had to lead them in from the place across the road. He never gave the graveyard as a delivery address. Most people thought it was a prank and refused to deliver.

Adley Reed
“We can get it out of the box,” he said, tipping the men for their trouble. They couldn’t get out of their fast enough. Now, all Adley needed was a Grayson…

Adley Reed
[ WEARING: https://www.instagram.com/p/BcCaydil5Yu ... huckjunior ]4

Grayson Wyatt
He was a week or two into the whole vampire thing, and so far he was crushing it. Or at least he thought he was, mostly due to the benefit of having a sire who didn’t seem to mind Grayson’s penchant for hanging around like a locust in a field of tall grass. He was learning the specifics slowly. The first had been that he couldn’t go out during the daylight hours, which honestly didn’t bother him. He had been essentially nocturnal even before he had been turned, preferring to engage in a vigorous and enjoyable nightlife. He’d popped out of the crypt and immediately headed to a local coffee shop, on foot, so he could make a few calls along the way. It was like. Like the entire world had been this closed off bud of a flower in the early spring, and when he had become an undead creature, it had blossomed suddenly for him. He could see things the way he had never been able to before. More color. More clarity.

Grayson Wyatt
He had made tons of friends over his few years in Harper Rock, but he had never put it together to use that network. Until now at least. So he was putting together a project, pulling all of the pieces slowly into place. And he arrived back home with a mug of mint chocolate coffee in hand. He had to drink it by small sips, or he had a problem keeping it down. So a single cup could last him the entire night really, without impacting his ability to sleep. So when he stumbled past the stone entrance, something seemed vaguely off. His head cocking to one side, he advanced a little deeper. “Adley, love?” And that was when he caught sight of the man (more on that later, because yum), and what seemed to be a very large box. “Wha?”

Grayson Wyatt
Wearing: https://78.media.tumblr.com/664271ed85b ... 1_1280.jpg []

Adley Reed
Adley had done his best with Grayson, as he had tried to do with the others, also. He didn't want to be a bad sire, though he could sometimes get distracted. If there were things he missed it was never his intention, but he was never lacking in affection. With all the heightened senses that came with being a vampire, Adley's favourite was touch -- probably because more than half the population was out of bounds for him, now. Humans didn't do well if he chose to hold on to them for too long. Even after Adley had taught Grayson all he knew to teach, Grayson had hung around. In fact, it wasn't often that the two were not in each other's company, except when working on their own separate projects. He figured a conversation would be needed, eventually, about Adley's relationship status. Sooner rather than later. But he didn't want to push Grayson away. Adley was trying to figure out how to get the sticky tape from the box when Grayson stumbled in, and he beamed. "Surprise! It's only the start..." he said, nodding to the drink in Grayson's hands. "I'm going to fit out the kitchen for you, so you can make one of those here. Help with this?" he said, finally wrenching tape from one of the sides.

Grayson Wyatt
Adley was attempting to pull at the tape from the box, which was an interesting enough endeavour because it seemed like everything delivered these days came with all open seams totally sealed. And for a moment, Grayson appreciated the view of the other man turned away from him, his thoughts interrupted when he caught sight of that expression his sire wore. What happened next was almost entirely instinct. He placed his coffee down on the nearest empty flat surface so he could completely get in Adley’s way by yanking the other man into a hug, arms around shoulders, his head tipped close enough for him to press an affectionate but brief kiss against a lower lip. It was a jovial greeting and a light ‘thank you’. “You got this for me?” He asked. And then a second later. “If you get me a coffee maker, you’ll never be rid of me, and…” He continued, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “I will be forced to make it well, well worth your while.” Though he didn’t elaborate on how. He was practically brimming with energy that had nothing at all to do with the drink. But it was time to help out, so he pulled away with mild reluctance to assess the box and dig his blunt nails under a tape covered edge to shred the tacky support, and yank tape down one side so he could pr

Grayson Wyatt
pry the thing open.

Adley Reed
Adley, who has very little in the way of a 'personal bubble', welcomed the embrace. And as much as Grayson jested about never being rid of him, it made Adley squirm. Well, squirm wasn't the word for it, really, but he broiled with words that he had not yet spoken. They'd been so preoccupied with how to be a vampire, how to get by, how beautiful the world was (even the ugly parts) when seen through the eyes of vampirism that they'd not really touched on anything too personal. Adley hadn't even tried to sneak a bite, knowing that Grayson was still trying to find his feet and not wanting to deprive the man of what he needed to satisfy his cravings. "I want to tell you," Adley said after he'd been released, and he started to attack another bit of tape. "That... I'll get you the coffee machine with the intention of keeping you around. Maybe you'll think it's strange, or too forward, but I'd be very happy to let you stay here. Permanently. But it'd be with the knowledge that I don't... do monogamous relationships," Adley said, peering over his arm at Grayson, hoping that his tone was light-hearted enough that it wouldn't immediately bring the mood down.

Grayson Wyatt
The way Adley said it was very off-hand, almost as if it were this throw-away line that had no real weight. As if there weren’t some part of it that was a burden on the Necromancer’s shoulders. Had he not been in that position before? When he was first coming out in high school. There had been times when the conversation had been a serious one. Other times when he’d tossed out his preferences like a fist full of feathers. As if he were concerned that caring too much would make other people take the whole thing more seriously than intended. Grayson had to wonder if it was the same here. Maybe his sire and lover was trying to ease him into the idea that they were not going to be exclusive. Gray took a moment to contemplate, as he continued to work the tape off of the box, so it could be opened for them. “You know. You never really know how desperately you want and need a family to connect with until your own either dies away or turns their back on you.” He said. It was part of growing up. Losing parents. The Allurist had been forced to face it sooner than some because of mistakes he had made. It was his own fault his parents didn’t want him, that his family had disinherited him and cut him off.

Grayson Wyatt
He balled the tape up, pressing firmly to make as small of a misshapen orb as he could. “You have given me a home, and I’m always going to cherish that. It is, without a doubt, a better gift than godhood.” A benefit he’d ironically not even seen coming. “And when you care about someone deeply, you want them to be happy. You want to partake in that joy with them. You want to share every experience with them…” He trailed off, tossing the little ball of tape so that he could press closer, his eyes, like that halo of brilliant blue around the full moon, settled on Adley’s. “...I’m a millennial besides. I know what polyamory is. For what it’s worth, I love you too.” Because he knew what it meant that he had been welcomed so openly into his sire’s home. To have the other man try and accommodate him. He knew what all of that meant. He wanted to say ‘don’t worry’. Instead, he invaded the Necromancer’s space again, like he had a problem with not sitting inside of that aura. He didn’t move in for a kiss though. He looked like he was considering it, trying to gauge the other man’s reaction to how he had responded.

Adley Reed
Love. Adley mentally chewed on the word and though it didn't scare him, he also knew that it was a word with nuanced meaning. A cat owner loves their cat. A parent loves a child and vice versa, it's platonic. Best friends love each other, and it's never romantic. It signified deep and unerring care. To admit even that much, however... but it didn't matter. The way Grayson had said it, it wasn't something Adley needed to respond to. There was no obligation. He knew there was something there, he knew that he cared. But there was reluctance in Adley where there'd never been reluctance before.

Adley Reed
But every other uttered word was unexpected, like Grayson had already seen into Adley’s soul and seen what it was that he wanted. Family. “For what it’s worth, it would take a lot for me to turn my back on you. On any of you,” he said, referring to the rest of the brood. The fridge was forgotten for the moment, Grayson close but not touching. Adley had straightened when he’d seen Grayson’s attention focus, and turn toward him. “And it’s not… I don’t like to put a definition on it. All you need to know is that you’re always welcome. You won’t be left out. If you want to stay here permanently, there’s only the one bed. And it’s a space to respect. Communication, and honesty,” he said. Subconsciously, he’d curled his fingers at Grayson’s neck, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. His eyes glazed when he spoke those last three words; he’d never thought they needed to be spoken, he’d thought it was just an unspoken rule.

Adley Reed
“And if it’s not something you’re into,” he said, snapping out of it, “then that’s okay too. But… family. That’s the goal,” he said with a smile.

Grayson Wyatt
Grayson had described himself as a millenial - classically considered to be spoiled. Entitled. He had been. He could see that as he got older, even by a measure of only a few years away from some of his more rotten behaviour. He had never been a particularly bad person, but he had expected a lot for all of the nothing he wanted in exchange. He didn’t blame his parents for cutting him out of their lives. Maybe there was something there, some very deep and hidden mustard seed of self-loathing he didn’t particularly want to touch. Which was why he buried it so deep. He didn’t expect Adley to want to keep him around, though he objectively knew he was grateful for everything he had been given. It left him wanting to constantly show his gratitude. To pay his sire back. To give him his attention and his focus and…

Grayson Wyatt
And there was a hand on his neck, and he relaxed visibly, his eyelids growing heavier by a margin as he pressed into the touch. His head turned just enough for him to kiss the brush of a thumb. “I am so much into it.” So much into you. “If that ever changes, we’ll talk about it, okay? I’m still young, and I want to experience the whole entire world, yeah? So let’s share that together, and come back to it if we ever need to.” Because Grayson could sense, in the way Adley talked about it, that there was something going on there. An urge to not label things. The notion that honesty and communication needed to be spelled out. Maybe Adley was just uncomfortable with the idea of being tied down. And that was okay. Gray wasn’t looking to pin his sire as a butterfly to a board. Not when they could enjoy freedom together.

Grayson Wyatt
“Family.” He repeated, his grin this wolfish thing that grew in hunger. “I want a massive one.” So that I never feel abandoned again. He finally did curl his digits against the back of the other man’s neck, tipping closer to properly kiss Adley, as if his mouth could say more with action than with words what he meant. It said that he wanted the Necromancer’s affection, that he was willing to pay for it with his own, that he needed to be close to Adley so he could feel...stable. Balanced. It was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe, because it didn’t end for some time, and when it did, he was tasting the other man on his tongue.




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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Crypt 54 area. Participants and rewards were: Adley Reed earned 1673 RPP. Grayson Wyatt earned 2253 RPP.

[Storyteller]

Adley Reed
Grayson was wolfish when he kissed Adley; there was no poison in Adley’s touch, not when in contact with something as dead as he was. There was freedom in that touch. There was a hungry happiness in Grayson’s kiss, but Adley responded—equally hungry and passionate—with a silent grief. Grayson wanted family. A big one. Had he wanted that as a human? Had he wanted children of his own, like Adley had? Was that taken away from him one untoward night, before he’d even had a chance to consider, to think, to decide? Adley blamed Abelle as much as he blamed himself. He was the one who’d put himself in that situation to start with.

Adley Reed
And Grayson had hardly hesitated when he’d said he was into it. He was into it. He hadn’t thought about it. Or maybe he had, for however long he’d known Adley. He’d thought about it, and was just waiting to be asked. He wanted a family. Would he soon regret what had happened? Would he, too, blame Adley as much as he blamed himself?

Adley Reed
He was leaning up against the bench when their lips parted. He didn’t know how that had happened, but he’d pulled Grayson along with him. They were still clothed. The fridge was still in its box. There were things they needed to achieve but, like everything else in Adley’s life, there was no rush. “You know the concept of ‘family’ has changed now, right? No babies. Just… grown adults sharing blood,” he said. It was only after he’d said it that he realised—wasn’t that what family was? Grown adults, who shared blood…

Grayson Wyatt
There was this wave of different sensations that rippled through him. First came the relaxation, which he could feel in his muscles, and tingling on his skin. He could have sank deep into just about any bit of furniture then, and been content for the rest of the night to just be physically close to Adley. Of course. There were a number of other things that came along with that feeling, and some of them were more restless, more craving. Hadn’t they been doing something? With the fridge. Yes. Adley had got them a fridge, and they were talking about family. Gray knew he couldn’t afford to get distracted by the way the other man tasted. Well, not in that moment anyway. But the expression on his face spoke things the Allurist did not, with a smile that was unceasing and those moonstone eyes peering across their divide.

Grayson Wyatt
“Isn’t that what family always is?” He asked. Gray had two sisters - one older, and the other younger, but not by much. They’d all grown up at roughly the same time, and were all adults now. Grayson’s extended family was pretty small, and he’d more than made up for it by making friends with any number of people. Some of those people had been close enough he’d considered them family. Of course. His concern wasn’t bringing new life into the world so much as enriching what was already there. Did it bother him that he would never be able to have his own baby? If he ever got the urge to rear a tiny person, he could always adopt. As a vampire, time was on his side now.

Grayson Wyatt
But maybe Adley hadn’t asked entirely for Grayson’s benefit. The fridge was, at the very least, mostly untaped and partly unpacked. The Alluris’s hands slipped away from the cardboard entirely so he could lay his arms over Adley’s shoulders, not quite curling them. The closeness, had they been human, would have been more than enough to share body heat. “Is that alright? That family is like that now?” He questioned.

Adley Reed
There was a discussion Adley often had with Kaspar, those brief moments of proximity. Kaspar was aware of Adley’s grief, the fact he wanted children that he could not have. He could not even properly spend time with other people’s children. He couldn’t adopt. If he did, he’d be the weird father they could never touch, never hug. He’d never be able to carry them on his shoulders or dance with their feet stepped lightly on his. But he was not certain that Kaspar understood the depth of Adley’s sadness. Would Grayson?

Adley Reed
Adley didn’t realise he’d been silent for a few long seconds, staring at Grayson, into those eyes of his. Immortality had done wonders for Grayson; an allurist, he still clung to his humanity. But there was an ethereal aura to him, and it was most evident in his eyes. When he was human it might have been as if someone had sliced a piece of a rich, clear blue sky and put them in Grayson’s skull. Now, the sun had set on those sky blue eyes and the moon shone from deep within them. Gloriously distracting. He chewed at the flesh of his bottom lip, considering. He sighed, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.

Adley Reed
“I didn’t think so,” he said. “It took a while to accept. I’m still not sure I have accepted it. I’m not sure I ever will? But that doesn’t mean it’s any less important. The way it is now,” he said. He didn’t want Grayson to feel as if he were not good enough, as if he would never be good enough. Because he was. And he would be. As would they all. “It’ll be great,” he said with a grin, the expression doing its best to light up his features.

Grayson Wyatt
He felt something tug free inside of him, and Grayson immediately wanted to do something. He wasn’t even sure what. Kissing Adley was a good way to distract the other man from what was on his mind, but was that reasonable or fair? In the short time he’d known his sire, Gray had never known the man to be down, or sad. In fact, he always seemed either upbeat or just...untouchable. Was Gray doing a disservice to the man whose attention he most craved if he didn’t ask more? He slipped closer, though only marginally, as that was all their physical bodies would allow. He felt most comfortable when they were pressed like this chest to chest or chest to back. So close that the only thing he could see was the Necromancer’s expression and the depth behind his eyes.

Grayson Wyatt
One hand gripped a shoulder, and the other crept to lay against the back of a neck so his thumb could drag over a spine. “It is great. You are great. We are great.” He said, trying to choose his words carefully. It was important to him to get this right. He didn’t want to give false hope. He didn’t want to dismiss the other man’s feelings. There would have been no greater crime, considering all Adley had given to him. “You would have made an amazing father. You do make an amazing sire. I know I could never replace someone who came from you, but I’m never going to leave your side. Okay? And if there ever comes a day when we can figure it out, how to have everything, I will be there to see it happen.”

Grayson Wyatt
He paused, replaying what he’d said in his head, even as his forehead very nearly brushed Adley’s. Did the other man even want to be touched just then? His neck straightened slowly to look into those eyes again, trying to measure what the other man needed. “Our life is a journey, and we are blessed with a very very long road. Tell me about the things you wanted, what you’ve always wanted.” He offered. Though the word felt lame to him.

Adley Reed
Aloof was Adley’s middle name. The Necromancer was so filled with confidence and his own sense of self-worth that it wasn’t hard to be on the top of the world, most of the time. It was only rarely a façade, only rarely hiding a sadness that only ever reared its head when he was reminded of it. He was asked what he wanted and Adley had a vision of his childhood. It was so long ago, and clouded by the difficulties of uprooting and being replanted in a cold climate, in a place where he felt he did not belong, in a place where houses were cages and there was no freedom to come and go. Children had ruled the streets and every woman who’d had a child was every child’s mother. Every father who’d fathered a child was every child’s father. They were all brothers and sisters, a whole tribe of them.

Adley Reed
Whether or not these were true memories or memories that Adley had embellished over time, it didn’t matter. The gist was still there, the basic primal need underneath everything. He’d had what he’d considered to be brothers and sisters, cousins and aunts and uncles galore. A huge family. He’d wanted a tribe of his own, a house filled with scurrying feet and laughter. The wildness of children was infectious. It was precious.

Adley Reed
But he shook his head. “No,” he said, though he was still smiling. “I bought you a fridge. We’re supposed to be celebrating,” he said, reaching up to his own shoulder to take Grayson’s hand in his. He brought the knuckles to his lips and let them linger. He wasn’t throwing Grayson off, he wanted the other man to know that. Physical affection was always wanted. He had no idea what they were celebrating except well… a fridge. And permanence. He didn’t want to talk about the life he wanted, because it was a life he could no longer have. There was no point in dwelling. It would only make him sadder, and Adley Reed did not like to be sad. “I bought you a fridge!” he repeated. “Of course you’re never going to leave my side. And if you never leave my side then I have no reason to leave yours,” he said with another kiss, this one more chaste than the last but no less meaningful.




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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Crypt 54 area. Participants and rewards were: Adley Reed earned 1570 RPP. Grayson Wyatt earned 1113 RPP.

[Storyteller]

Grayson Wyatt
The answer was not an answer, but a distraction. To an extent, it worked. How could Grayson not be enthralled by the brush of the other man’s soft lips against his knuckles? The way Adley spoke was with this calm sense of self that always seemed to immediately put Gray at ease - and yet this time his concerns remained. He knew then, that the other man was uncomfortable talking about the things he couldn’t have. There was a curiosity inside of the boy with his golden blonde hair. He wanted to see every part of Adley, as if his sire were dissected before him. Except, in much the way cutting into flesh to lay out organs would have been painful, extracting those secrets and fantasies, was also likely to hurt. Maybe it just needed time? Or maybe the Necromancer needed to be more comfortable. Or maybe it was something he would never, ever want to talk about.

Grayson Wyatt
He met the other man’s gaze with his own, and willed his eyes, like brilliant moonstone, to melt away something inside of the other man. But there was nothing to melt really was there? What Adley really needed was to know that Grayson would be there during the happiness and through the sadness. Only time would reveal that. Words were, after all, cheap things that could change in memory from one moment to the next - having an inconsistent nature. His fingers dug a little bit more deeply into Adley’s palm, so that he could grip his sire’s hand, and let them both fall. Being so close to the other man seemed to make everything right in his mind, perhaps a bit drugged with the vaguest euphoria. There was no such thing as too close, too entangled though.

Grayson Wyatt
“And how does my Adley celebrate these things?” he asked, his voice taking on a curious lilt, his form tucked against the Necromancer’s, until breath would have been shared between them, had the Allurist opted to use his lungs. “It used to be I would crack open a bottle of wine and spend a night laughing and listening to music so loud it probably did damage to my eardrums. Something tells me that won’t work here.” He murmured, only briefly glancing towards the fridge which. At the very least, was mostly out of its box.

Adley Reed
Adley caught that gaze, almost understood it for what it was. And he almost felt bad, too—a subtle guilt that he couldn’t give Grayson a more solid answer, something tangible to work with so that the other male could help his sire in the way he so clearly wanted to. But he also knew that had Grayson pushed for an answer, if he hadn’t let it go, Adley would have snapped. The moment would have been ruined. The fridge would remain only half unboxed for the rest of the night and the day that followed because neither man would have been in the mood, depending on who cracked first.

Adley Reed
But Grayson didn’t push, for which Adley was grateful. The smile only broadened at the mention of music and wine – a true bacchanalia, though they would need more people for that kind of celebration. A bacchanalia of two, though one of said two would not be able to consume the wine. “Well, we can’t celebrate the fridge until the fridge is unpacked and plugged in and humming,” he said. Adley was no stranger to the long game, to playing hard-to-get. And as comfortable and serene as he was there against the bench with Grayson in his arms, he reluctantly extracted himself and ducked away, reaching for a knife so that he could, in one fell swiping swoop, cut away the last of the cardboard and toss it aside. There was plastic wrapped around the fridge and bit of Styrofoam on the top and bottom.

Adley Reed
“Music we can do, though it might need to be louder than usual to damage our eardrums. And I’ll just have to taste the wine on your lips,” he said with a wink. “I’m sure Kaspar’s left some behind, somewhere. And we can get drunk on… each other,” he added. There was such a thing, right?

Grayson Wyatt
The moment passed, but laid the groundwork for a different kind of moment. Perhaps getting to know the deeper parts of Adley would be like a starving bird following a path of sparsely laid bread crumbs. Venturing deeper and deeper would take time, but had Grayson not just said that their road was an exceptionally long one? Adley slipped past the Allurist to continue unwrapping the gift that had been the fridge. The box was big enough that it might as well have been a casket, and who was Gray to stand there idle while Adley was doing all of the work? It was odd how out of place and yet totally homey a single appliance could make a crypt look and feel. Grayson honestly probably couldn’t even have described the fridge in his home when he’d been growing up, because it hadn’t been important. Now eating was one of the things that set him apart from everyone else. And. He could eat just about anything. Which was kind of nice, not being afraid of carbs.

Grayson Wyatt
He dug a thumbnail into the plastic, trying to find an edge, and when he found it, he began to unravel it, rather than just cut the whole thing away. There were layers of the clear substance, pressed snug against the sharp edges, and seconds later, he balled the plastic up, giving it a toss to one side - having accumulated enough that they could have played volleyball with it. “You track down that wine. I can get this thing into place.” He said in passing, as he moved to yank the bit off of the top - only to accidentally make the styrofoam crumble in his palm. They were making an absolute mess. But. They could clean it up later.

Adley Reed
It was strange, the sound that the Styrofoam made as it came apart in Gray’s hand. Like it was a living thing – or a million tiny living things all clinging together in a formed mess. And now they screamed as they were being torn apart, their world ripped asunder. Such was the strength of a vampire, though. Unknown and growing at an exponential rate. Were he human, that Styrofoam might not have crumbled the way it did.

Adley Reed
The fridge itself was a matte black, and had cost Adley more than he’d ever thought he’d spend on a fridge. But they were immortal, and it would be nice to see how long this fridge would last. Could it outlive a human life? It was double-doored, top and bottom, with a nifty little window at the front; apparently one had only to knock on the fridge twice and it would light up and give a view of what was inside. Adley guessed it was so people didn’t stand there with the fridge door open while trying to decide what they wanted. And he was a sucker for gimmicks.

Adley Reed
He left Grayson with the fridge while he went to the cupboards, opening and closing them all, coming across random bits of flotsam before finally unearthing what he’d been looking for. Red wine. A merlot, vintage 2010. It promised a smooth texture with hints of hazelnut. The wine slid onto the counter top and another search was implemented while he hunted down a glass, only to find there was one washed up on the sink. He unscrewed the bottle cap and poured Grayson’s glass, almost to the brim. It was tempting to take a sip while he watched his childe push that fridge into place. Instead, he contented himself with a long, slow whiff.

Grayson Wyatt
Getting the fridge into place was no difficult task. Grayson was still getting used to the strength of the vampire, because he so rarely had to use it. When he hunted, it was generally a sensual affair, which took on the form of gentle persuasion and he left his ‘victims’ far more pleased after they had his attention than before he’d taken their blood. He didn’t need to overpower anyone, and where once he’d been forced to spend hours a night (at the 24 hour gym) to maintain his physique, it seemed as if the lean, powerful muscle of his body was locked and could not waste away. This thankfully freed up a lot of time for him to do other things. Like moving a fridge against the crypt wall, which had been outfitted with electricity run carefully through the stone walls from the city’s power grid.

Grayson Wyatt
He took a step back once it was plugged in, and he could hear it come to life. He had seen commercials for this exact type of appliance and...well. In the time it took for Adley to find and pour the wine, Grayson essentially knocked on the glass a good twenty or so times, seemingly engrossed in the whole thing, even though the fridge itself was empty. He inevitably pulled the doors open and felt the immediate rush of new chill. It would take time for the fridge to reach optimum temperature. The doors slid shut, and he half turned to see his sire with the wine, so he approached, only to steal the glass and press a soft, brief kiss to the corner of a mouth. He lifted the rim to sip, and let the wine rest on his tongue a moment before swallowing. Odd. He’d never liked it room temperature before. Maybe the heat of blood had changed his tastes…

Grayson Wyatt
“A picture?” He asked before slumping against the fridge with a grin. It was, after all, a gift from Adley. And that meant it needed to be remembered. “Except…” He put the wine glass down on the edge of the counter. He dragged his jacket and shirt off, giving them a toss before reclaiming his drink. His black jeans were torn at the knees and distressed - and his flesh gave a greater contrast to the background the appliance provided. “Like this. And then you can taste the wine.”

Adley Reed
A picture, Gray said, as if it was such a simple task. A requested picture, not a spontaneous picture. Not a picture in a place where Adley had suddenly happened upon perfect lighting and balance and thus had to take a few snaps. A picture, Grayson said, without realising the process that would be undertaken.

Adley Reed
First, Adley had to go hunt down his camera which happened to be resting on the table just inside the front door. The strap slipped over his shoulder, the camera slapped to Adley’s hip like he’d been born with it. He moved naturally, the camera remaining balanced. He found the light switches and flicked them on and off, off and on, testing the combinations of warm and cold, downlights and spreading glows. Eventually, Grayson wasn’t lighted in such a way that shadows played under his eyes and made his nose look like a beak. And Adley stepped from floor to stool to bench until he was up high, crouching a little. With Grayson looking up, the light would sit better. And he didn’t take just one photo, but three, each from varied positions on the bench. Grayson should be used to this by now. The model had taken up with a photographer. It was bound to happen.

Adley Reed
Until finally Adley was happy with the end result, and he was slipping the camera from his arm and depositing it on the bench, winking at Grayson as he meandered (strutted?) over to the giant pouf that they hadn’t been able to resist – the thing they’d bought when they should have been looking for a couch. It wasn’t a bean bag, no. The filling was almost like memory foam, moulding to their bodies. And it was already a favourite place to be. “Come on, then,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t keep me waiting…” he added. He pulled the phone from his pocket and flicked music to the Bluetooth speakers, upping the volume. Well, they weren’t going to burst their eardrums just yet, but a full-on sound system had yet to be found. Adley threw himself into the pouf, twisting to that he landed on his back, arms wide. Waiting.

Grayson Wyatt
Adley was particular about his photos, Grayson had known when he had asked - just as he had known that his photographer lover could make him look better in an instant than anyone else could. Did he mind the moments spent testing the lighting, and taking up slightly different poses? Not at all. He had the benefit of having been a model for some years. He knew how to move his body, how to play into the lighting. What he loved most about it was that Adley’s entire attention, his eyes, his mind, all of it was wrapped up in the focus on the Allurist. He didn’t crave attention in general - but rather, in the specific. And he loved seeing the Necromancer’s impression of him; it was, without a doubt, one of the easiest and most sincere forms of connection.

Grayson Wyatt
Once done, he took another sip of his drink, while he watched the other man retreat towards the big fluffy blob in the living space. It was like knowing the other man had spent moments captivated by him, gave Grayson permission to stare openly. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t actually move until he was invited. Though who could have blamed him? Adley had a beautiful back and the swell of his *** was the stuff of legends. And the way he walked? Gray could have watched him for hours and never gotten bored. Though of course all it took was for his sire to flop down and get a good look at what was roughly eye level to know just how intrigued the Allurist was.

Grayson Wyatt
Gray sauntered over, and carefully held the wine as he dropped against a chest, flung into Adley’s arms. Only he didn’t make the other man come search for that lingering taste of wine. Their lips met almost immediately. He was left with a conundrum. He decided, as a wet muscle dragged languidly across the plumpest part of Adley’s lower lip, that it was the Necromancer who tasted better. By far. “You talk like you’re the impatient one.” He whispered against the other man’s skin.

Adley Reed
It was a precarious situation for the pouf. At the moment, it was clean and new and shiny. It still smelled new, like fresh-cleaned fabric. It was no doubt a commercial scent; it probably came from the factory. But it was still so delightful, so prescient of newness, that Adley delighted anyway. If the brand new pouf had a consciousness, if it were at all in the way of self-preservation, it would be staring at that glass of wine as if it were liquid acid. Adley, careless and care-free, barely noticed the glass of wine nor considered that, given the two men’s preference for each other and their liability to forget their surroundings, it might end up all over their new bit of furniture.

Adley Reed
Instead, he was distracted by the caress of lips against his, the feel of that young, strong, lithe body beside his own. He relaxed, eyes closed momentarily, tongue sliding over his own lips and, by default, Gray’s too. There was that hint of hazelnut and, perhaps more pressing, the taste of the man underneath.

Adley Reed
“Not impatient,” he murmured. “Just demanding,” he said with a grin, eyes drifting open. “And I wonder, on that note…” he started, slowly, his fingers sliding beneath Grayson’s shirt so that they could linger against the bare flesh of his back, fingernails trailing down that tip of his spine. “…not demanding, but, once you’ve had your fill of that wine, I wonder if I could get a taste of it through other means than just your lips…” he said. A suggestion that could be taken many ways, but Grayson, if he’d been paying attention, would know that his tastes were not for the human variety of blood, but something far superior.

Grayson Wyatt
The drink was nearly gone courtesy of Grayson’s sipping. He was the sort of person who could indulge in something delicious, with the appetite of a mouse, picking away at it in amounts that undoubtedly wouldn’t have drawn anyone’s attention...until what he wanted was totally gone. Had his focus not entirely been on his sire, he might have looked at the glass in surprise, as if to wonder who might have stolen the contents. And then, of course, he would have used it as an excuse to set the thing down by leaning over Adley’s body, just to feel his lover’s form beneath his own. He didn’t though, because that would have meant breaking the locked gaze. He loved it when Adley looked at him. It didn’t even particularly matter how kind his eyes were at the time, though tonight they were exceptional.

Grayson Wyatt
“Demanding is a word that needs praise then.” He decided as his lay against his sire’s chest, separated flesh from flesh by layers of clothing. He could feel fingertips slip to move against his tailbone, and his response was immediate and noticeable, a shiver making his shoulders hunch inwards briefly. He had that gooseflesh again. In that moment, the Necromancer honestly probably could have asked him anything, and he would have been pliant. A kidney? He didn’t need his. What was a little bit of blood? He had noticed his sire’s preferences, and there had been a small part of him that wondered why he hadn’t been fed from as well. Was that a line that went uncrossed? And now it seemed… “I, and all that defines me, is yours to take.” But that wasn’t really enough was it? “And I want you to take it.” He added, his hand slipping from Adley’s chest so he could ball his fingers in his own shirt and begin to pull. White could mar so easily.

Adley Reed
Adley hadn’t expected anything else, honestly. He’d already concluded in their brief time together that Gray would give Adley whatever he asked for. It was unhealthy in so many ways, given Adley’s temperament at times. He could take and take and what would be left, in the end? Nothing was ever an endless source. But thus far, he had done good. Thus far, he hadn’t asked Gray because the fledgling was still settling, still training, still acclimatising himself to his bodies new needs. Adley had been witness once or twice to Gray’s feeding habits, however – beyond that first night there’d been no heads ripped off. Instead, it was rather enticing to watch, the vampire seducing its prey and its prey opening themselves to him, trusting, wholehearted.

Adley Reed
And now Gray was doing the same for Adley, trusting and wholehearted. Adley helped with the shirt and flung it aside, where it landed somewhere on bare floor. The glass was taken from Gray’s fingers, then, Adley leaning over the side of the pouf to place it safely on the ground and away from the tangle of two bodies. And when he came back for Gray it was like a Venus fly trap closing over an unwary fly. Except this particular fly was ready and waiting.

Adley Reed
Grayson was pushed onto his back, Adley’s body sliding into place, torso to torso, hip to hip. Subconsciously he was taking cues from Gray himself, from those witnessed moments. The tables were turned. Adley found Gray’s hands, nimble fingers tangling with nimble fingers. He pushed Gray’s hands away, pressed them into the pouf over his head. Taking control. The deep kiss he initiated ended with a subtle nip to the lower pout; his lips trailed from mouth to cheekbone, to nipped lobe, to the corner of a jaw, until finally they sucked at the tender flesh over the vein of the neck. A tantalizing tease, a kiss that might have left a hickey were Gray human. And yet the tender bruises would heal, just like the twin wounds created by the slow, gentle thrust of Adley’s canines into soft flesh.

Grayson Wyatt
The drink was out of his hands, and so was his shirt. Everything was, really. His knuckles were pressed into the lovesac, and they dragged across the soft fabric which covered it. Gray couldn’t help but look into Adley’s eyes, is tongue pressing between his own lips as if they had gone dry. It was difficult to hold that gaze, not for fear or shame, but something else entirely. His lids themselves were heavy and he had this breathless feeling, which was quite the accomplishment given he didn’t need to breathe. He stretched underneath his sire, body arching away from the comfortable bag so that he could more clearly feel that solid form covering his own. He was curious, about what it was like, because he’d never been bitten - at least not to his memory. He’d been very out of it when he was being turned into a vampire, and he was pretty sure that...hadn’t been part of the whole thing.

Grayson Wyatt
That curiosity was evident on his features, the interest, and the arousal as well. He ached not only to give part of himself to Adley, to feed and sustain him, but for the other man to feel how much desire was there, how much he wanted everything about the Necromancer. There was the faint sensation of teeth plucking at his mouth, his flesh. His chin pressed upwards as if to point at the ceiling, exposing that long, slender neck. He swallowed, and it made that entire part of him pulse with phantom heat that rose whenever Adley touched him. And then those little ivory daggers pushed into him and the sound that came from him was like a rugged intake. There was immediate pain, but it was sharp and solid, and intoxicating in the way his need molded around it like a glove.

Grayson Wyatt
His hips rocked against his lover’s, as if to reveal just how deep it felt like those fangs sank. It felt like his entire body was in danger of spasming as he whispered little soft words against his sire’s ear. They were mindless things, like little grunts of needy encouragement.




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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Crypt 54 area. Participants and rewards were: Grayson Wyatt earned 3281 RPP. Adley Reed earned 2480 RPP.

[Storyteller]

Adley Reed
The blood of a vampire was different to that of a human, but no less satisfying. Some were addicted to the heat and life in the blood of human, the way the robust crimson cocktail was filled with hints of their life and their habits, what food they chose to eat and whether they were healthy or sick. A vampire’s blood; it didn’t have any of that. There were hints of it, of course; there were remnants of the life they had once lived, but they no longer ate food. Perhaps there were hints of the human blood they’d themselves consumed, but it was overwhelmed by something else, something more. Magic, pure and deep and as old as the ages. Adley could taste the stars in Gray’s blood; stars that burst behind a third eye, which opened upon a scene of otherworldly beauty.

Adley Reed
There was sunshine and sand and water the blue of Grayson’s eyes. There was a boat, a yacht -- decadent, luxurious, home to beautiful men and women. They were smiling and laughing; the faces flickered, quiet moments alone with two young women who were clearly born with the same genes as Grayson, and older man and woman, parents. A family. An actual, honest-to-god family. Though Adley didn’t sigh, his lips still secured to his lover’s neck, slowly indulging in the cool blood, it was as if his body sighed, happy and relaxed, as if he himself was stretched out like a house cat in the sunshine.

Adley Reed
There were parties and bodies writhing against other bodies, parties and bright lights and a land that looked like it was out of a fairytale, though Adley knew where it was. A place he’d never been, a place he didn’t think he’d go now that he couldn’t see it in the sunshine. Mykonos. And Grayson was happy. The joy filled him up, warmed him in ways human blood never could. Though he would not take more than he needed. He took one last gulp and the fairytale ended; when he blinked his eyes open, it was to the dimness of the crypt, though the sight he beheld was no less beautiful.

Adley Reed
“You have a glorious family,” Adley purred, pushing his fingers through Gray’s hair. “Okay?” he asked, a single word, a question, to make sure Grayson was alright after having been fed on.

Grayson Wyatt
As close as Grayson and Adley were, there were ways in which they could be closer. Physical intimacy, after all, was just a gateway drug to stronger and more substantive stuff. Gray was lucky to have felt that deeper connection to his sire from the moment he was turned. It was as if the blood which ran through them was the same, and it recognized, at least in the Allurist, a need to revel in every moment they were coupled together. As Adley drank though, a new dimension was added, and it was as if the parts that distinctively made the two men were overlapped, the lines between them blurred. For some reason, a certain set of memories came to mind - sun, and beach, waters and happiness. Mykonos had been a month long sprawling adventure during which time Grayson had barely slept because there had been so much to do, so many people to meet. Constant dancing. Constant laughter. Constant revelry. It had been one of those times in his life when the young vampire had felt totally unfettered and alive in ways of which most people only dreamed.

Grayson Wyatt
He’d been happy, going between extremes of exhausted contentment and direct pursuit of pleasure. Sensation had come to him unfiltered, and a lot of that rose to the surface while Adley drank from Grayson, who had already been in a good mood prior to the fangs sinking into him. Well. Good mood was an understatement. He’d been riding high on a particular euphoria, which only expanded and grew more tense all around him. There was physical pain there, but it essentially faded under the weight of everything else. And as the Necromancer fed, Gray let his entire form curl around the man. Arms coiled around neck and lower back. His knees tucked against hips. He pressed as much to the other man as he could, his back arched so that there wasn’t even space for the smallest gap between them. As if by getting more contact, those already hazy lines could vanish entirely and leave them crashing into each other.

Grayson Wyatt
In his head, those days in Mykonos mingled with the moments spent with Adley, like a dangerous and delicious new cocktail of addictive substances. His fingertips and blunt nails dug in and his mouth brushed over a neck. He inhaled the scent there as his lips slipped open, soft sounds of pleasure giving glimpses of an entirely different sort of intimacy. So that when the other man finally pulled away, it was like the tension was released and Grayson slumped back, his head tipped, his entire pale neck exposed like a column of flesh. His pupils were blown out, and his hands had moved again, drawn across a chest in languid, whimsical patterns. It was like both release and aphrodisiac all at once. He was hard, and when his gaze focused, it sharpened on the man above him.

Grayson Wyatt
“What was that?” He asked, his voice rough.

Adley Reed
They’d been close already, he and Grayson, but not this close. Adley absorbed and revelled in the splay of Grayson’s body, the look in his eyes, the slackness of his features as he seemed to scramble back from some other place. Adley was unsure whether Grayson just had not heard the question and needed it repeated, or whether something else had happened that Adley himself was not aware of. Adley, too, was coming back from some other place. He had to blink to clear his vision of the bright edges of the sun that had gleamed off of the still water. It was as if he could still feel the sun warming his shoulders. And he could see Grayson there, too soaking up that sun.

Adley Reed
Adley pressed another gentle kiss to Grayson’s neck, where the wound he’d created with his teeth was already healing. He suckled the last drops of blood from the skin, smooth but roughened by new growth. His fingers found the curve of Grayson’s back, dragging down the spine, encouraging the other to relax, to settle back into the welcoming softness of the lovesac. There’d be no distance. If Grayson relaxed, Adley would follow suit, body heavy against his childe’s. Grayson’s arousal could be felt through the cloth of Adley’s pants, his own belt now a hindrance rather than a help. Adley’s teeth tugged at his lower lip, fingers slipping over Grayson’s hips and searching for the button of his tight black jeans.

Adley Reed
“Your family,” Adley repeated. “I saw them. At Mykonos, I think,” he added. That much he’d gleaned, subconsciously, though he thought he recognised it regardless. “There was sunshine. And; parties,” he said, voice low and sonorous. “I can see memories. In your blood,” he explained, nudging a kiss to the corner of Grayson’s lips. He lifted his head, then, eyes wide. “I should have warned you;” he said. Belatedly, he’d realised it might have been rude to take such memories without asking, first.

Grayson Wyatt
Relaxing was easy when he felt like he was swimming in a sea of endorphins. He felt completely weightless, and yet kept in place by the other man atop him. He hadn’t intended to miss the question the first time, of course, there was just only so much the mind and body could take in at once. And that experience had been powerful. Intense in a way that a purely physical high could never be. Gray had spent years being...not miserable, but he hadn’t felt fulfilled or truly happy for most of his time in Harper Rock. Some of that had begun to return after he became a vampire, but when Adley bit him, it was a taste of everything he had always wanted from his life. It was a step beyond anything else he’d ever experienced. It made him want to stay forever right where he was in those moments when Adley was tasting his blood.

Grayson Wyatt
“Oh.” He whispered as a hand slipped between them, and his hips tipped to allow more freedom of motion - though where tension had sprung in him, he was relaxed - his jeans were taut and unpleasantly full. The button itself strained to try and snap open, which ironically only served to make it more difficult. “You saw my sisters then, and my mum and dad. They would love you. They never did mind my liking men and knowing my mother, she’d gush over how handsome you are.” He murmured as his hands continued their restless, lazy movements, going from chest, lower towards a belt. He paused when his palms ran over abdominals, the sensation of which made something spasm inside of him, leaving him grunting an unintelligable sound. And then he was pulling at a shirt, trying to touch the skin beneath.

Grayson Wyatt
“The memory, I experienced it too. I...rather liked it actually.” His voice had this husky quality too it which seemed to naturally make it hit new depths, and he never quite gave up the way their eyes locked, as if his entire focus was right there behind Adley’s gaze. “I want you to do it again. More. My memories are yours to experience. Even the ugly ones. Just try...not to judge me too much if you stumble on memories of me with past lovers. I didn’t always have the amazing taste I have now.” His voice, where once it started as a whisper, became stronger. “I want you to experience all of me and love all of me.”

Adley Reed
The button eventually popped open beneath Adley’s roving fingers. They slid down, sliding the zip open, tugging at the jeans and giving Grayson some more space. Room to stretch. The blonde was asking for more, giving more, and Adley laughed. The sound was redolent of the previous purr-like reverberation in his throat. It curled upon his tongue, formed words. “Not right now. Later,” he said. “Tomorrow. We’ve got time,” he said. Adley wasn’t greedy, though he could have been if he wanted to. But he was sated. He didn’t need anymore blood right now. And to take so much from Grayson would only leave him wanting. Adley wouldn’t deprive him of more than he himself could return.

Adley Reed
Though he’d loosened the buttons of Grayson’s jeans, Adley didn’t do anything else just yet. His fingers lingered, following the lines of hard muscles the dipped beneath the enclosing cloth but never quite dipping in himself. His other hand had slipped up behind Grayson’s neck; the first response came in a longer, deeper kiss; Adley’s tongue pressed first to his own canines, drawing blood. It then danced over Grayson’s lips, parting them. Through that blood was the Necromancer’s magic; one single drop on Grayson’s tongue would spread and fill him up, replacing the blood Adley had taken. Healing him of any near-future hunger.

Adley Reed
Adley was addicted to this. The proximity, the nearness. The intimacy. He’d though it was lost but who was he kidding? It was never too far away. There was always someone with whom he could find it. It was a common need in humankind, and beyond. Closeness. He pulled back and rolled to his side, no longer trapping Grayson beneath him.

Adley Reed
“If I met your mother, I’d thank her for producing a specimen like you,” he said. “Though; how do you think she’d react to; would you tell her, them, that you’re a vampire;?” Adley asked. He didn’t make a habit of trying to see himself in pictures; if the camera was ever turned on him he didn’t like his picture taken. He knew he looked half dead. What he didn’t know, from this moment -- after this one, life-filled meal upon his lively, boisterous childe, colour started to return to his skin.

Grayson Wyatt
When fingers drew across Grayson’s abdomen, it was taut, etched so that his pale skin was pulled across the muscles that moved tauntingly beneath. Then there was this natural shape to his pelvis which made touch flow where he wanted it most. Of course, Adley teased closer and closer to where Gray’s maleness bulged, barely contained - without ever feeling the heft behind the elastic band of his boxer briefs. The Allurist’s hips angled to try and get the Necromancer’s fingers to fully grip him, to feel exactly how the young vampire felt, and how much he wanted to share that need with his lover and sire. Of course, then came the distraction in the way their lips touched. Adley’s were soft, and the truth was that Gray could never quite get enough of them. The two men could have spent hours making out, and he would have been more than happy to demand more. It seemed greed was a common vice - the difference being that Grayson put in no effort to challenge his.

Grayson Wyatt
There was this faint burn that lashed across his tongue and slipped down his throat, like the pleasant warmth of alcohol, but more potent, and when it hit his stomach, he could have sworn heat was spreading through him, creeping through his chest and neck. There was this tingling at the very core of him that felt like a sound reverberating across the hard points at the very edges of his inside. He suckled a tongue, only to replace it with his own, as if their past explorations were forgotten and he needed to experience it all over again. And that meant it was his turn to make that throaty purr of sound, perhaps picked up due to his proximity to his sire, or as some deeper way of connecting in yet another manner to the man he craved both to be like and to be near.

Grayson Wyatt
And then Adley was rolling away and Gray made a sound that was a little less than pleasant. It was entirely instinct, and Grayson remedied the situation by twisting to slide himself against the Necromancer. As if to say there was no chance for escape. His knee pushed itself between his sire’s thighs, careful not to do any harm, a solid part of the vampire which he could press close to those parts of Adley not normally on display. “I;” He trailed off, trying to consider those words. It suddenly hit him why the other man had pulled away, and he managed something of a sheepish grin. “I haven’t talked to my family in a long time. I miss them, but things happened. I don’t think they want to see me really at all. If they did though, I wouldn’t hide what I am. I love being a vampire, and my mother, she used to just want me to be happy. You know? She would see how you make me feel, and she would love you for it. I like to think, at least.” He concluded, his adam’s apple moving as he swallowed in thought.

Grayson Wyatt
“What about your family?”

Adley Reed
Adley hadn’t intended to pull away. With the disappointment evident in Grayson, Adley’s arms circled the younger vampire, pulling him close. If they felt the need to breathe, their breath would mingle. Adley wanted to be close. Always. But then meant more than just one body against another and the quick and heated release of climax. They had time for that, and they had the whole place to themselves. Adley wanted to know all about Grayson, and that meant he wanted to learn about his past and his loves and his needs, his fears and his desires -- as well as the dips and curves of his body, the places he liked to be touched. His buttons.

Adley Reed
Now, they were talking. They could be doing more, but Adley enjoyed the conversation. He wanted the conversation as much as he wanted the proximity. For in conversation they would find proximity in mind and heart as well as in body. Adley’s hips shifted, his own foot running the length of Grayson’s thigh, their limbs now all tangled up, their hips thrust against each other. No, Adley had not pulled away, and nor was his desire any less than Grayson’s.

Adley Reed
“My family are distant and inconsequential,” Adley responded. That’s all he was going to say, but instead he sighed and nestled his head against the plush lovesac. “My mother died when I was nine. I lived with her in Nigeria. She had many brothers and sisters and they all had children, so many of them. We were all one big family. I didn’t have just one mother, I had many. I had many fathers, too, though none of them were my biological father. I was; different, to the other children. The ones I considered my brothers and sisters though they were all probably cousins,” Adley frowned. Sometimes he remembered them vividly, at other times he could barely remember them at all. “When my mother died I guess my biological father was notified. He came to get me, brought me back to Harper Rock. This place was so cold compared to home. I felt so alone, and he didn’t get it. He’s still around, somewhere. We don’t really talk much,” Adley said with a shrug.

Adley Reed
“Do you want to tell me what happened;?” Adley asked, not wanting to push. It was clearly something that meant a lot to Grayson, and if it upset him too much, Adley wouldn’t force it.




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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Crypt 54 area. Participants and rewards were: Adley Reed earned 2343 RPP. Grayson Wyatt earned 2262 RPP.

[Storyteller]

Grayson Wyatt
Grayson had been in relationships before, or what he thought of as relationships. Normally they had been these terribly short-lived situations which had involved a lot of sex, and not much else. Which wasn’t to say that Gray had been entirely shallow, it was just that he had gone through years of not knowing what love was supposed to look like for someone like him. He’d seen his parents, and he had always been able to tell that they were in love, but his father was so much more restrained than the blond youth was. Even though he could see himself in his mother and father, he couldn’t see them in the same romantic entanglements he got himself into. He just hadn’t understood. Things had never really clicked. It really hadn’t been until he had been alone that he understood that while, what he shared with his eventual partner or partners would never be exactly the same as what Carla and Joseph Wyatt shared - that didn’t mean it wouldn’t look similar in some ways. And it certainly didn’t mean that he couldn’t have the same depth of connection.

Grayson Wyatt
Arms slid around him, and they felt strong - not an active strength which used force to reveal its affection, but more like the unyielding of an oak that was sure and constant. If there were any ills, even imagined, they dissipated quickly. Even Grayson’s greed and need to be smothering close could be sated with the right attention it seemed. Besides, Adley was telling him things. The Allurist would never have described his lover as terribly tight lipped, though there were some deeper topics their conversation never went near. He knew, and he was bound and determined not to make a huge deal out of it, that when Adley shared bits and pieces of his history with Grayson, those pieces were to be cherished. Not just everyone got those, and it did make the blond feel special. He also realized, as the Necromancer was talking, that they could not have come from different backgrounds. “That sounds so ideal to me. The idea of having a family like that.”

Grayson Wyatt
His fingers slipped over Adley’s sides - once again running skin to skin up until he found ribs and then he let his hands follow the natural lines towards a back. By the time he touched against vertabra, he found himself looking for stray marks. Soft hairs, birthmarks, patches of skin that were particularly smooth and enticing. Anything he hadn’t noticed before. “I don’t remember most of it.” He admitted. “You know how they talk about memories being a blur? That’s how it is for me. I try to think back on the months after I got to Harper Rock, and what I must have done, or what it would have been like, and I just can’t string it all together. I guess I spent a lot of money. Like. An insane amount of money. I made some really bad choices, and one day I got a letter saying that my dad was cutting me off, that my mom was beside herself, that it was my fault, and that if I wanted to ruin my life, I could do it on my own dime.” Recounting the whole thing was confusing at best. It was like there was this field of mines between him and what he wanted to see.

Adley Reed
It was the ideal, yes. One Adley hadn’t known he’d had until the possibility of it was taken away from him. It went back to the question Grayson had asked earlier that Adley hadn’t wanted to answer. What he wanted was, in some ways, what he was striving to create. There’d never be any children who had his eyes or his laugh, but there’d still be those with his blood running through their veins. They were not children, but they were his regardless. He could find happiness in that. He let the statement go, however, and focused on the story that Grayson told.

Adley Reed
“You don’t remember?” he asked. “Was there… I mean, do you remember why you came here? If you can’t remember, there had to have been… alcohol, right? Or drugs? To get that far gone there had to be a reason. Had something happened to push you over the edge?” he asked. It seemed so out of character, when compared to the young man on the boat in Mykonos. He’d been so happy, so confident. Had there been a death, or a tragedy? A relationship gone wrong? Heartbreak? So many questions, and yet Adley bit his tongue, held them back. Waited for the answers to the first questions before continuing.

Adley Reed
And the questions he’d asked had been asked with a gentle tone, non-invasive. His voice was quiet even as his skin reacted to the touch that Grayson showered upon him. When he’d met Grayson, he was put-together, sober. Whatever it was he’d got into, he must have got out of it. He must have come to his senses. Why shouldn’t he, after realising he’d lost that glorious, golden family? Adley sighed and shook his head, his lips grazing over sharp cheekbone and brow, over eyelids closed over bright blues. “I’m sorry. That must be hard for you. Have you spoken to them since…?” he asked. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to ask any more questions, but one more had slipped from his lips. Now, he waited.

Grayson Wyatt
Grayson expected a certain amount of curiosity. He knew how it sounded, how the circumstances came across. He wasn’t crazy, after all. People didn’t generally just forget entire patches of their life. But all that Gray could recall from the time period were hazy memories. He could remember touches that were sometimes soft and gentle, and sometimes bruising. He could remember smells, and flashes of faces that came to the surface periodically, only to recede quickly into the back of his mind the way a dream retreated from a dreamer upon waking. He could remember a voice, husky and deep and commanding telling him to do things that he didn’t always want to do, and yet which he was powerless to protest. And this too had a dream-like quality to it. He couldn’t ever recollect specific details, and couldn’t say for sure what was real and what might have been supplied by his imagination.

Grayson Wyatt
He licked over his lips as he considered how to answer Adley in a way that made sense. “There was always alcohol, but I can hold my drink. It’s like trying to see across a bay through the fog.” He commented, his gaze going somewhere distant as if he were literally trying to peer through the stone walls of the crypt beyond Adley’s handsome features. “I came to Harper Rock because I found this guy. He was...well he was perfect. He said that he was a lifestyle guru operating out of Canada. Huge social media following, tons of followers across...everywhere. His name was Mirza, and one day I woke up to a DM from him. You know how it can be. He was telling me he’d seen my latest shoot and thought I was cute, and I thought he looked handsome, so we just talked for a few months. Eventually he invited me to come and stay with him for a few days. My last vivid memory touching down in Harper Rock’s airport, and then everything is just wonky for about eight months.”

Grayson Wyatt
That was all he had. He had tried to pull more back to him, or dig it out of his brain, but it never worked. “No.” He said about the last question. “That’s. I guess that’s mostly me being dumb and proud, and now it feels like it’s been too long. Like if I went back to talking to them now - it might seem like I just want to get back into my family’s wealth. I keep wanting to make something of myself before I mend bridges.” Grayson was an open book most of the time, though Adley was likely used to this. However, it was largely dependent on who he was talking to, as to how big that book was. A lot of people made the mistake of just admiring the cover without ever cracking it open, and so they never got to the story beneath the story beneath the story. He swallowed, and his gaze focused on Adley once again. His grin, which had disappeared while he was recounting things, returned. “Yeah I know, it sounds dumb. I’m being dumb.” Adley had lost his mother, and he didn’t talk to his father, and Gray wasn’t talking to his out of pride. It sounded terribly spoiled. He knew it did - he had at least that much self-awareness, and so he tipped his head in until his forehead nearly touched the other man’s.

Grayson Wyatt
“I don’t hate my family, but I love my new family. I love that you’ve brought me into it. It’s a future I never knew I wanted, and it’s a future I can’t imagine not being part of now.”

Adley Reed
Something stirred within Adley. It uncoiled in his gut and tensed in his muscles. There was Grayson, so aloof about the whole thing, grinning and calling himself dumb and yet, what Adley heard was not dumb. It was deplorable. It was criminal and cruel and lecherous. Adley didn’t know who this Mirza was nor did he care how handsome he might be. Looks did not make up for such behaviour. Such behaviour could not be forgiven. There was a voice in the back of Adley’s head telling him to get up, to put on his shoes, to leave the house and track down this asshole. Grayson blamed himself and was even now trying to change the subject. No, not change it, but he acted as if he thought Adley would be upset with him for yearning for his human family.

Adley Reed
“What happened to this Mirza?” Adley asked, spitting the name like it was something bitter and unpleasant. “Do you know where he is now? This isn’t dumb, Grayson,” Adley said, lifting himself up onto an elbow to look down at the blonde. He was incredulous that Grayson could be so blasé. Maybe this was a part of his life he’d wanted to forget, to move on from. It was commendable that he wanted to make something of himself before contacting his family, but why should he have to prove anything. Adley shook his head, the movement sharp.

Adley Reed
“They shouldn’t have cut you off. If they knew you at all, wouldn’t they know this was not how you behaved? Shouldn’t they think something was wrong?” Adley asked. Now that golden family didn’t look so golden to him. They looked like assholes who could not take proper care of their son and brother, and who had not exhibited the proper amount of concern.

Adley Reed
“You were drugged! If you can’t remember, if that wasn’t… if that wasn’t your lifestyle before you landed in Harper Rock, then it wasn’t you. Why would you just let this go?” he asked. Anger sharpened the edge of his words, it thrummed through his limbs and caused his fingers to curl. But he wasn’t angry at Grayson. He wanted to protect Grayson; he just had to try to calm himself, tell himself that he couldn’t protect Grayson from things that had already happened. He couldn’t step back into the past.

Grayson Wyatt
There was a shift in the atmosphere. Something was sucking all of the air out, and Grayson felt something inside of him moving, like the toothed wheels inside of a watch. He didn’t know where it came from. Didn’t know why it was there. Normally he only got angry if he kept thinking about something. It was perhaps part of why he went out of his way to avoid unpleasant thoughts. He had this habit, when he was wronged, of obsessing on the things that hurt him or made him feel less than. He could pick someone apart in his mind for days until he was ready to tell them off. Until he was so annoyed and fixated that he turned into a darker caricature of himself; it was why he took such great care to distance himself from things he found personally distasteful. And yet this was an immediate and swelling sensation. He did his best to quash it.

Grayson Wyatt
“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I don’t think he left Harper Rock. It was like I was totally wrapped up in him for months, and then I never saw him again. We broke things off shortly after the drama with my family, or around the same time.” Which was not entirely true. Grayson had been dumped when the money dried up, but he didn’t like to think in those terms, so he didn’t. “I am pretty sure he’s got to be where he always has been.” His gaze narrowed suddenly as a hand lifted so he could push his fingers through his golden locks. He didn’t remember where Mirza lived. He had no clue. He’d lived with the man for eight months and he had no memory of how to get there. He had never really bothered to think about it. He never poked that wasp’s nest. Never pulled the strings to unravel what was essentially a shoddy tapestry.

Grayson Wyatt
And that scared him. What else didn’t he remember? Why didn’t he remember? His other hand joined the first, one set of digits twisting in his hair, the fingers of its partner spread across the side of his face, as if touching jaw and temple could reveal everything in the past. He was pulling at the strings now. “I remember pain, but it was always masked with pleasure. I remember thinking I didn’t want to be with him, and then thinking I did. It’s a muddy mess in here.” He whispered. Anger and fear tangled with everything else, and that certainly didn’t help with the muddiness. Why couldn’t he remember where Mirza lived? And then it came through. Well something did. One little glimpse into the past.

Grayson Wyatt
It hit him hard. He felt disembodied, like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, through windows out of a house that didn’t belong to him. He looked down and could see the pale and cooling body of...someone. Someone who had, at one point, been beautiful. He saw blood on his hands, and blood spreading from them. He saw a knife on the floor. And he could see Mirza smiling to him. It was brief, almost non-existent. One of those ‘maybe it wasn’t real’ memories.

Grayson Wyatt
His eyes widened, and they were filled with tears. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck. He might have been hyperventilating if he’d been human. His hands slipped from his newly mussed hair and he curled his arms around Adley, pressing close to him. He was sobbing. When had that started? “I think I…” He trailed off. The words didn’t come. He didn’t want to say it. There was shame in the memory. There was hopelessness in the memory. There was pain. There was so much pain that it it was like this lead ball slamming through the very center of him, dragging him down. He felt sick and he clasped tightly to his sire, so tightly that his nails dug in a little without meaning to.

Grayson Wyatt
“I don’t remember.”

Adley Reed
Everyone had their closets, and the things about themselves and their pasts that they didn’t wish to share with everyone. On the surface they could look cool and calm and collected, they could have their life together, they could be and look sane. But beneath the glossy exterior there was darkness, vines of it threading through a pure gold core. It could be beautiful, like a stone naturally formed with seven different elements, fused to create something multi-faceted and beauteous. It should not have shocked Adley that Grayson had history, but he’d not realised just how bad it had been. Their pleasant conversation, their sensual embrace, had now turned into something volatile and upsetting.

Adley Reed
Adley hadn’t meant to upset Grayson, but he hadn’t thought before reacting. He’d reacted to emotions he rarely felt, hackles rising and lashing out at an invisible foe. Without meaning to, he’d lashed out at Grayson, too. He’d opened those wounds that may not have yet had the chance to properly heal. He’d ignored the last words Grayson had uttered, the suggestion of their future, the thankfulness and gratitude that Adley ought to have acknowledged. And now Grayson looked as if he were coming apart at the seams, and it was Adley’s fault.

Adley Reed
“Hey, shh,” he mumbled, softening against Grayson, wrapping his arms around the distraught male and burying his face against Grayson’s neck. He pressed his lips to skin, kissing the corner of Grayson’s jaw. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to. You don’t have to think about it anymore,” Adley said, running his fingers up and down the length of Grayson’s spine, rubbing at his shoulders, rocking him where they lay.

Adley Reed
Anger still bubbled at Adley’s core, settled in with remorse for pushing Grayson so far. That he should have been left alone in the clutches of a man so manipulative, so cunning. Adley hadn’t concluded that there was anything supernatural about Grayson’s situation. He was now too preoccupied trying to distract Grayson, to rock him back into a sense of security. He was here, now. The future was still ahead of them. His human family was not lost. Adley would help Grayson achieve all that he wished to achieve so that those bridges could be mended, if that’s what he wanted. As furious as Adley was with that family of his, that they could abandon him in such a way, if Grayson could forgive them, then so could Adley.

Grayson Wyatt
The way he experienced those moments was not grounded. Thinking about Mirza was shattering glass; it was a hurricane which ripped away the roofs from houses, and destroyed windows, which flooded the land so high that people drowned in their own homes and cars, which was so windy that it threatened to upend the world. White noise rose in volume inside of his head. He was angry. How could he not be angry? Mirza had taken his will from him, the one thing a person has when they are alone - and Mirza had been the reason for Gray’s loneliness. Thinking about the man was not like thinking about an ex - it was like thinking about a criminal kidnapper which the Allurist had learned to accommodate, and called it love. Thoughts of Mirza made Gray sad in a deep down part of him that hungered for love, but which had been fed gravel until it felt sated in its agony. Not hungry, but not nourished.

Grayson Wyatt
He was bound to come undone. Had he been human, he wouldn’t have dealt with the untangling of those feelings very well, and his emotions as a vampire had been...erratic. And Gray had never dealt with any of it, which was his own choice, his own fault. He had run away from the problems burdening his mind.

Grayson Wyatt
But Adley was there. The Necromancer held him close, and kissed his neck, and said things to him that rose above all of that white noise. The tangled knot in the tapestry began to loosen, and though the picture itself still remained, only partially unraveled, at the very least he did not have the red strands of rage, the deep green threads of sorrow, and other things there as well to contend with. The sobs persisted slow and soft as the Allurist pressed so close to his sire that he threatened to bruise them both with the effort to get inside of the other man’s skin. The comfort was blessed. The rocking was salvation. Adley himself was a certain type of grace.

Grayson Wyatt
He lifted a hand so he could scrub his knuckles across his eyes. “Christ, I’m being such a drama queen.” he said, his voice less nasal and lower, scratchier. He laughed then, chuckled really, a nervous sound. “You don’t have to apologize. Please don’t think...what he did is on his head. What my family did, I will hold them accountable for. But I’ve made a ton of mistakes and you’ve been nothing but good to me, and for me. I had to know I couldn’t run away fro…” He decided not to finish that thought. He didn’t want to think about Mirza. He knew he eventually needed to face down his past, but that didn’t mean he needed to do it just then. Knowing that he was going to took away some of the fear though. Knowing that Adley and the rest of the family were there did as well.

Grayson Wyatt
In fact, there was this sense of solid-ness to Adley that made Grayson feel more himself, that took him away from the tempest and put him on dry, unshaking land. His lips touched the other man’s, hints of saltiness which had come from his eyes lingering there - but the point wasn’t the tears - the point was the kiss.




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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Crypt 54 area. Participants and rewards were: Grayson Wyatt earned 3845 RPP. Adley Reed earned 1783 RPP.