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>~Shryant and Damon:
[snip Damon spilling the beans - in an oh so polite manner, of course.]
>The truth seemed to be the best way to
>take Shryant's attention away from the matter. It meant that there was
>nothing more to see here.
>
>"Well, looks like it's all taken care of,
>Lucy," said the wild red-head. "So let's talk. You too,
>Sevvy." He looked specifically at Ive and then Damon. "You other
>two, scram." Truthfully, he didn't care if they stayed or went, but there
>was something fun about bullying snotty prettyboy gits around. Briefly, he >thought of them tied up in a dungeon, but kept his mind focused on what >needed to be said. Business before pleasure, after all.



"I hope you take no offense, sir, but i prefer to remain in the company of my Lord," Ive purred, throwing a posessive look at Lucius' back. He had given up on the "plaything" bluster for dead, but the salacious flicker in Shryant's eye - brief, but so very well known to him that he would have recognized it from a lizard - had given him an idea. The story abandoned, then - but not the teller. The courtesan's disguise flowed over him like water. He had always found it easier to think beneath its cool surface; so few delved beyond a willing mouth.


Ive slipped into Damon's arms, expertly fitting their bodies together. In composition, one Malfoy was very like another. He laid his head on Damon's shoulder and sighed gustily, looking at Lucius again. No doubt to the observer this little display was blatantly calculated to make Lucius jealous.



"Forgive me for using you like this," Ive muttered into the hollow
of Damon's shoulder. He twisted, making a subtle show of squirming. "And though this mangy wolf no doubt soon receives its waiting kick in the teeth, we know not what may stay their hands. Better to know the nature of the beast." This last addressed to the pale font of his throat, the words transmitted as much by thrum and breath as sound.



He found a space between moments enough to shoot an apologetic glance at Snape. He doubted the man was no more entangled now than before, but he still felt a twinge of guilt. Had they not been invited for a celebration, after all..? 'I'll find some way to make it up to him later,' he thought, 'Though aught might do save a red ribbon 'round that boy's neck and a noose for someone else's.' He hid a smirk.


--


lovely players. it seems like whenver i start getting twitchy, they get up and start moving of their own accord. do they read our journals, or is it just the MGB at work again? who can say?


we still think they need to lighten up a bit, though. come on. corpses, toddlers, sex and Malfoy tea parties. what's not funny about this? heh.


anyway, feeling much better about the whole thing, much less cranky.

on 2002-05-26 12:58 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] wendolen.livejournal.com
What sort of tribute do you think the MGB would require to start intervening similarly in my group?

(I should be nice. They've been way more active this week than they have been for months. Funny how talking about how I feel like I ought to quit entirely does that. I wish something less emotionally wearing would accomplish the same results.)

on 2002-05-26 09:49 am (UTC)
ext_79676: (Default)
Posted by [identity profile] sola.livejournal.com
oh, i imagine the same as any other shub-Int*rn*t deity.. black chickens and dead shares. or yu could just deliver up an offering of holy bitchery, as i did.


we should be very rich, or at least very revered gamers, you and i, if we could figure out the secret of building solid freeform game groups.

on 2002-05-26 10:26 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] wendolen.livejournal.com
I was wondering if a weekend of shoestring-budget revelry wouldn't be a good tribute to the MGB, actually. :)

(I've tried the holy bitchery, but it only works if the other players become aware of the offering, so I'm not convinced of the MGB's involvement in those cases.)

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