kingdomcomes | The time has come

Entry tags:

The time has come

Who: Estinien, Aymeric, and YOU!
What: Partially open; Estinien is around town as a half dragon, then he seeks Aymeric for the cure.
Where: Around town for the open part, the guard barracks for the closed part.
When: Evening
Warnings: Probably sex. Also, Estinien is half dragon??

Open to all:

[Estinien had originally hoped that the threat of slowly turning into Nidhogg was naught more than the bluffing of a deranged woman who could not handle his defiance. For the first couple days, it seemed to be the truth--but it took less than a quarter moon for the first signs to appear.

Try as he may to reverse the effects--avoiding the solution the Mistress offered him--he met naught but failure, despite what promises the town's alchemist gave him. Failure that has lead the dragoon to acquiring not only a tail and wings, but scales slowly consuming the expanse of his body, some adorning his chin and cheeks as if he were an Au Ra, and not an elezen.

Claws for hands and feet, he found himself budding four horns that protruded from his face in a manner not unlike a cone of shame. He could be seen around town, avoiding people as much as possible, zipping around corners to try and lose any who might attempt to tail him.

He's quite the sight to say the least, even more so when he attempts to leap away at the first sight of someone approaching him from the front--his horrid appearance was not one he wished to bear to any, and if he could avoid the attention, doubtlessly he would.

Jumping is something he is highly familiar with--after all, dragoons use jumping to dispatch dragons of their lives, it's their bread and butter in terms of fighting. What he isn't familiar with is how the wings offer a considerate amount of drag, and thus throw off the trajectory of his jump. Atop the roof he aims, but right into the second story window he lands.

Face first, and through the glass. A sorry display if there ever was one.]

Closed to Aymeric:

[After his humiliating run in with those around town, he's decided to give in ere he becomes Nidhogg himself. Slinking around the barracks as he can, avoiding what guards might be around, he finds Aymeric as quickly as he's able.

A feat that might have been easier through the journal, but he cannot entertain the idea of writing with these hands. He hopes Aymeric will aid him--he cannot begrudge him if he wouldn't. Not many Ishgardians would wish to bed a half dragon, after all.]

Aymeric. 'Twould seem the Mistress' word is far more good than I had hoped. I fear I need your assistance if I am to shed this horrid display.

[Help him Aymeric, he done cosplaying Nidhogg...]

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[Aymeric, too, had hoped that the curse was a bluff. Not likely, however, with the rampant and powerful magicks of this realm. He had pled with Estinien in the previous weeks with the first changes, knowing that likely nothing would come of it. He hoped only now that whoever would not be forced to bed an actual entirely-formed dragon by the time he relented.

So, in a very, very small way this was kind of a victory!

Aymeric is resting on his bottom bunk, curled up with a book and a glass of wine on a simple bedside table. He's dressed simply in leggings and a loose shirt, freshly bathed if his still-damp hair is anything to go by. He looks up as his name is called, trying to keep a neutral expression. All of this nonsense reminded him too potently of painful memories that Estinien did not share just yet.

He closes his book, puts it aside, and sits up in the bed with his feet over the side.]

Aye, I had wondered how long you might allow this problem to fester ere you could bear it no longer. Come here, and I will tend to you. [He gently pats the space next to him with a soft expression.]

[Now that Estinien has had the chance to take in exactly what Aymeric's doing, he stares for a moment. Really, Aymeric? Just gonna sit there with a glass of wine and a book in the barracks?

Had he the mind to read the title of the book, he'd mock him for his choice in literature (Political Seduction, really Aymeric?), instead he stays focused on the task at hand. Or claw, as it were.]

She will pay for this.

[The low growl is enough to showcase how much he means the statement, before he makes his way over. He pauses, looking the spot over. Had he not the wings or tail, maybe sitting next to Aymeric wouldn't be a problem, but as it were, he's rather large and cumbersome.]

Mayhap we should go somewhere more spacious. 'Tis not like my size has diminished with these changes.

That she will, but that will require patience. We needn't be hasty, my friend.

[He glances at his wings, then the space between the bed and Estinien's bunk. It would be more comfortable for a myriad of reasons to change locale. ]

Then we'll go to the inn rooms. Would that we could have our own home as Yenh does, but alas. We can carry up a bottle or two to preface the act.

[As he, too, dances around the subject. He knew this was very uncomfortable for Estinien. ]

... We can try a more conservative approach to start, if you like.

Edited 2017-08-20 00:47 (UTC)

[Patience. Something, that in the right circumstance, Estinien can have a great deal of. This, however, was not one of them. But for now he allowed this part of the conversation to die, there were far more important matters at hand.

The mention of bottles was a comfort, shallow one though it was, but getting well within his cups to get through this seemed far more appealing than dealing with it in any measure of coherency.]

Would that we did not have to deal with this at all.

[But with a pivot of his heel, he headed towards the door. The inn idea obviously not being rejected. Unfortunately for Estinien, had he hoped to make a quiet exit, it was ruined as his horn caught the door frame, causing him to stumble back with a swear on his breath--before storming out with new found spacial recognition.]

Edited 2017-08-20 23:58 (UTC)

[He manages not to laugh. It is both very funny and totally unfunny. Poor Estinien. The ruckus shakes Aymeric's cat loose from underneath the chair he was sleeping, darting out across Estinien's feet and down the hallway. ]

As Yenh has pointed out to me, it could be worse... as far as curse-reversal goes. No blood-letting, no difficult ingredients. [He walks astride with Estinien. As much as he's thought of this, it's not really how he wanted it to go.]

What caused your change of heart? The scales aren't uncomfortable, I hope?

[Another swear could be heard as the cat nearly gets trampled underfoot. He had forgotten Aymeric requested the bloody thing, or perhaps he merely hoped it had died from old age. He knew better than to expect such a blessing.]

Change of heart. Have you gone blind, Aymeric? The proof of such a change is quite plain indeed.

[For emphasis, he allows his tail thwack him on the backside.]

Had the cure been as simple as a potion, 'twould have been dealt with already.

[Just how many elixirs of shite has he downed? He dare not say at this point.]

Ah—! Estinien! That's hardly what I meant!

[He rubs his whipped buttocks in offense.]

Yet the curse is born of the Mistress' displeasure in how you conduct yourself, unfortunately. I understand the desire to not give into her, but we have little choice.

[a beat] If you can whip your tail, can you fly?

A change of heart implies I want this. I no more want this, than I want to transform into Nidhogg himself. She is forcing my hand, pray do to entertain the thought that any of this is a choice.

[He seethes as he speaks, a sharpness to his voice that is usually saved for those he sees as enemies to strike down. Or moogles. But those could fall into the same category.]

I suppose I could, but I've no practice of such, and even less desire to do so.

[If Aymeric looks closely, he can see some fresh scratches on him, clearly evidence of his window-based blunders.]

[he sighs]

I merely meant that you are now seeking assistance. I know better than most that you do not desire that shape for yourself.

[he stays alert as they make haste out of the barracks. Thankfully, their trip to the outdoors was quicker than it was for most other residents of the castle, it being imperative that the guards could respond quickly to a threat at the gates.]

I shall reserve discussion of particulars for behind closed doors, but I hope that you carry no trepidation of what is to come.

Edited 2017-08-21 00:39 (UTC)

I seek assistance because this curse will not cure itself if I remain alone.

[And if he's to seek anyone, he would rather someone he knows and trusts, than some random fool seeing him in such a horrid state.]

Aye. 'Tis punishing enough that others have to gaze upon me in such a poor form, little do I wish for them to hear in length such particulars.

[And with obvious haste behind each step, he's ushering on to the inn till they finally make it to their destination. With obvious noted carefulness, he makes his way inside without catching a wing, horn, or his tail. A conscious effort he hopes will not beg repeating once this is done and over with.]

You must needs pay for the room. I have not a coin.

[BECAUSE HE WASTED IT ALL... ON POTENTIAL CURES...]

[He looks over his shoulder with astonishment. Estinien has never been broke, not once that he can remember, in their ten years shared together. He was ordinarily excellent with his money, in that he did not spend any of it on frivolity. Or necessities, in his opinion.]

Pray tell me you haven't been buying snake oils! Oh, Estinien... I can give you some coin until we are paid again. [As long as you don't go buying dubious concoctions with it......

[He turns back to the innkeep, buying their room and some bottles. In all the time they had spent drinking there, they had never purchased a room. The innkeep gives them an irritatingly correct knowing look with the keys. He hands a bottle to Estinien, a thick-bottomed ale jug.

[He looks back at him with almost a nervous glance before they head upstairs. ]

Shall we?

Edited 2017-08-21 01:02 (UTC)

[Estinien gave no answer to his question. It was a monument to just how low the Mistress had pushed him, a shame he would rather not be a conversational piece. With the room purchased, and a bottle of ale presented, he took it and the lead up the stairs.

It's rather clear he wished this to be done and over with. His shame was great, and he tired of this. Making it to the door, he waited for Aymeric to brandish the key so that he might hide with some of his dignity intact.]

... Pray forgive me for subjecting you to what most might consider heresy.

[He knew if he were in Aymeric's position, he was not entirely confident he'd be able to do the same. Well, he would, but not with such grace.]

[He bites his tongue. The matter of what was heresy and was not heresy was a deep and muddy water even now.]

No act to help you would I ever consider heresy, Estinien.

[He unlocks the door for them, making haste within. While he would ordinarily not mind being seen with Estinien, he knew Estinien minded being seen with himself right now.]

As long as you never get much further than this... level of change. I should not find my sensibilities challenged overmuch.

[Once inside, he was quick to close the door. Almost too quickly at that, a brief pause allowed his tail to slip past being caught between the door and its frame. He felt like a fool with how little he was used to this body's changes, but he knew well that it was hardly his fault to act like a foal learning to walk.

The Ishgardians that knew how to deal with such appendages did so of their free will, such he had not done in this case.]

I am blessed by the Fury for having such a loyal friend.

[With the door locked, he turned to Aymeric, clawing at the top of the bottle in an attempt to open it... had he hands the deed would be done, but alas...]

I have said the same many times, Estinien. Think nothing of it.

[Without drawing too much attention to it, he takes the bottle from him and uncorks it easily, handing it back. Ordinarily here, he would start to undress, pour himself a glass of wine and get comfortable on the bed. Would that be alright here? He figured he can at least pour himself a fresh drink, his last left to turn to vinegar within the castle walls.]

So... Full eager am I to see you return to your proper state. The Mistress was not explicit in her terms of the curse, so I think that perhaps we could start with something... less.... [And he fails to find a word in time.] Penetrative.

[There truly is no proper way about this. Estinien feels himself growing more awkward by the second—a feeling he is a great stranger to, considering he is not generally effected by things of a social nature. Taking a long drink of ale, mindful of his horns, he lets Aymeric continue talking without interruption.

Before nearly dropping the bottle. Surely it's because of his grip, and not because of the idea of penetrating Aymeric. What else could it be?]

Aye. She merely made mention of committing the act, but not to the lengths of which counted towards my cure. I would rather do as little as possible, if 'tis all the same to you.

[His voice is even, and he seems fit to lay claim to what dignity still remains, but the entire nature of this, all of it, leaves him so far out of his element. It is as if he's a babbling babe once again, or the scrawny child who first picked up the spear and could no sooner hit a target than drop the lengthy weapon to the floor with deftless hands.

Again he finds himself sipping at the bottle of ale, if any would be an indicator of his nerves, this would be it.]

Then... May I suggest I perform fellatio? You needn't do anything, and you can close your eyes and simply think of aught else.

[He was quickly uncorking a bottle of wine, about to pour it before he realizes that he has no glass. His eyes dip to it, he shrugs and drinks directly out of the bottle. He hadn't realized how nervous this would make him... But now that it was staring him in the face, it was somewhere north of terrifying. But he had his composure, and refused to show his true feelings on this. Someone had to stay grounded, here.]

You seem undaunted by the thought.

[A jest to make light of this awkward situation. It doesn't help.

He makes his way over to the bed, and in an attempt to seem casual about this all, he sits down and looks to Aymeric. Bottle of ale still in... claw?]

Let us get this over with, then.

I have little to lose. Who are you going to tell if you think I'm terrible?

[He chuckles, coming to kneel between his legs. He sets the bottle of wine on the other side of Estinien's leg. He tries to still his quickening pulse to no avail, his face just a foot from Estinien's dick. He tries to keep calm and casual. "Let's get this over with."]

[He pulls Estinien's thong aside. ]

Estinien... I... Must inform you.

That... Your cock. Is missing.

Edited 2017-08-21 06:16 (UTC)

[Estinien was already taking another drink of ale when Aymeric knelt before him, pulling aside the guard thong he had been cursed to wear. He nearly chokes when Aymeric speaks, and in his struggle to work the liquid down his throat, he looks between his knees to see the issue.

It would seem that his genitals had shifted as well with this bloody curse. He did recall feeling something down below feel off, but he was too distracted by everything else to think to check.

Now there's naught more than a patch of scales where his genitals used to be, and a vertical crease of some sort.

By the Fury...]

... How am I to cure this ailment without a cock.

[His voice is low, but less angry than one might suspect. He's left in disbelief. Little does he know, he does indeed have a cock... it's just... well, inside. Time to play a fun game of whack-a-cock, except the object is getting it to emerge, than hitting it back into the hole.]

[He sits there, looking at it, just slightly too afraid to touch it. He covers his mouth with a hand.]

Do you reckon that 'tis alike a chocobo's?

[That adds an entire layer of unappealing to this entire situation. But there is no backing down here.]

Perhaps I'll... just... [He closes his eyes tight, reaching out to make contact with his lips. He swipes up with his tongue, pulling away. This was weird, very... Just very weird. He never thought he would have to lick a dragon's slit.]

Perhaps you have to become aroused first. [The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.]

[Any words that would make their way out of Estinien's mouth die in his throat as Aymeric's tongue runs across the slit. A shiver leaves him, but not much more than that, however, he does feel a bit of twinge in his groin, so maybe Aymeric isn't completely off beat.]

Mayhap... What a vexing situation this has continued to be.

[How inconvenient he must be aroused to have sex, oh the rotten luck!!]

I cannot say I am greatly familiar with any of this, so if you have ideas, pray enlighten me.

I know little and less about this than what I have already said. The rest will be mere conjecture, I assure you.

[But that did cause some...? sort of reaction...]

Mayhap... [He lifts a hand, fingers shaking in nervous anticipation. He runs his palm against the flesh and scales, pressing his thumb into the slit. He honestly has no idea what he'll find or what's going to happen here. His heartbeat is loud in his ears.]

We have... other options, if this doesn't work.

[But he doesn't want to scare Estinien into the ineffective embrace of another round of weird potions, so he presses his mouth to him once again. What... sort of mouth stuff do you even do for this situation. It's not a cock, it's not a cunt... So...]

[He just errs on the side of cunnilingus, hoping something happens here.]

I did not mean this situation I am in specifically.

[He would hope Aymeric has never fucked a chocobo. A thought he certainly doesn't want to entertain when he's supposed to be getting aroused, no less. But with all of Estinien's obsessing over revenge since he was 12 summers old, it's not as though he's had time or the patience for anything remotely intimate.

He barely stands people enough to acknowledge their existence outside of what's required of him, let alone to court anyone. This is all too new, and in no way how he's want or expect it to go. He did not have high expectations to begin with.

Wincing as the finger pries at him, he allows Aymeric to explore as needs be. He knows so little about himself sexually, this is as much of a seek and find for Aymeric as it is for himself. When the tongue returns, he allows his eyes to slip shut, trying to focus on the feeling, and letting his dick (he hopes he still has one) emerge.

Be it nerves, or maybe he's not much of a fan of cunnilingus, but what little stirring happens, does little to push the cock from its sheath.

A clawed hand pushes Aymeric's face away.]

Not that.

What, then? Have you any ideas to remedy this?

[And Estinien so kindly puts his dragon claw in his face while he's trying to doing something here. It earns Estinien an irate look. He stands, taking the bottle with him. He takes another long swig, noticing that the bottle was near a third of the way empty now. He drops his weight onto the bed next to Estinien.]

We could engage in a bit of foreplay, see if that heats your blood any.

[He places a hand on Estinien's scaly thigh. He would have tried to go in for a kiss, but those damned horns...They're blocking a clear path to it.]

[Please do not skewer yourself on the horns, Aymeric, kissing Estinien is not worth it.

The look goes ignored, seeing as Estinien is likewise annoyed with this whole thing. Sure, Aymeric is helping him, but his uncouth ways about things isn't going to change even if he's grateful for it.]

Foreplay, hm?

[Sounds like a waste of time, but fine. Whatever gets this going, Estinien can't completely complain. He looks to the hand on his thigh, then to Aymeric, quirking a brow.]

Is that supposed to do something?

[he's of no help at all.]

[He bites off his annoyed breath.]

If you would be patient, it will. [He takes a hand to Estinien's shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He straddles his hips, careful not to pinch wings or a tail. He's quietly pissed that his normally very arousing hand-on-thigh was met with just... nothing]

I know it's difficult, but you have to try to relax a bit.

[As he avoids touching a horn to touch his jaw - he doesn't want to remind Estinien of them too much - He closes the space, pressing his lips against Estinien's, just hoping he wouldn't be met with bloodied lips.]

[Estinien allows Aymeric to guide him, letting out a huff at being called out on his impatience. Relaxing is out of the question, and for Aymeric to suggest as such was laughably absurd. There isn't a single thing about his situation that could allow for relaxing, and to think otherwise is folly.

However, he lays on his back, wings and tail adjusting so, and he holds still as Aymeric descends upon his lips. As much as he might not wish to remind Estinien of the horns, it's hard to not see the bone-like structures out of the edge of his vision.

Lips meet his, and he freezes for a moment. Not being such a virgin that kissing is a complete mystery, he eventually kisses back with the grace of an inexperienced lad. He seems hesitant, whether from inexperience, or lack of desire—which it is is hard to tell—but he does not push Aymeric away. Clawed hands grab at his back and sides, as he clumsily attempts to smooth them over his body.

It's none too surprising if a claw catched on Aymeric, they are rather sharp, and Estinien is a bit more distracted with the kiss than anything else.]

[He bears the pain for the sake of moving this along. It was nothing at all compared to the sources of his other scars. He never thought seducing his best friend would be so irritating and awkward, but here it was. Honestly, he never thought he would get so close or even have the chance to seduce him, and had really hoped it would go differently if he had. ]

[It would really help if Estinien would admit a longing affection for him or a penchant for blue eyes. Anything would help here.]

[His own hands move from his neck to his chest, his hips rolling rhythmically against Estinien's. He parts for breath, looking at Estinien's face. He could barely believe he had just kissed him. This isn't how he thought this would happen at all. Well. He was a man of flexibility, at least. As it was, Estinien's sweet, boyish kisses were melting his heart.]

[He sits up to look at him and to catch his breath. He pulls the laces loose on his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal a bare chest.]

[To be frank, the fact Estinien came to Aymeric should be more than enough to show where Aymeric stands with him. Being not quite the sexual creature, his usual techniques are falling flat. However, the heat that begins to flush his cheeks a touch show well the effect of the kiss. He can feel a slight increase in his pulse, as he stares at Aymeric when he sits fully, his hips grinding against his own.

Eyes scan over his shirtless torso, tracing the scars that painted him like a canvas—though their numbers were dwarfed by Estinien's own. There's some raw beauty to it, something that stirs Estinien far more than Aymeric's failed attempt at pleasing him orally couldn't achieve.

Claws settling on Aymeric's hips, Estinien grinds up against Aymeric, hoping the continued motion might further stir this foreign feeling, so that his loins may play their part as well. There is pressure forming down there, a feeling almost uncomfortable, but Estinien has suffered worse for less, and so he's content to continue.]

..'tis passing strange. Never did I imagine the situation where you would straddle me like a chocobo.

Edited 2017-08-21 08:25 (UTC)

[Ordinarily, he'd be easily fully hard by now with the contact and the promise of lovemaking. Promise is probably too strong of a word here. But.

[The nerves and the pressure had thrown him, but he was still half-hard and making a valiant effort. Spurred on by Estinien's reciprocation, Aymeric braces himself on Estinien's chest, doing his damnedest to keep the pace of the grinding consistent.

[Why was the topic back on god damned chocobos. He would have to fix that.]

I might have imagined it. 'Twas more of a youthful thought, however.

[ Yenh sees him soaring through the air and through the window with all the majesty of a thrown brick. Her ears fold back to brace against the sharp sound of shattering glass. Ouch. Even if she presumes he wants to be alone, she really can't let him—knowing what she does and what he doesn't, she can't imagine this is easy for him. And also, he might be injured physically, which is less terrible for him probably, but still concerning. ]

[ And that is why Yenh hurries into this building and up the stairs, quickly tracking the dragoon. ]

Estinien? Are you hurt?

[When Yenh happens upon Estinien, he's still stuck in the window. A wing didn't quite make it through, and the broken glass was proving an annoying obstacle. There's certainly a splash of red along the shards of the window, but fortunately it seems rather mild--the scales offering him protection for the most part.

He looks to Yenh with an expression twisted with annoyance and humiliation, and he releases a low growl of exasperation.]

I have suffered worse wounds.

[a beat.]

... Would that I could say the same for my pride...

[Another fruitless attempt at freeing himself from the window inspires a begruded plea:]

Pray assist me, Warrior of Light.

[No comment will be made. Even if it was only the matter of bruising his ego, she wouldn't. But it's impossible to forget how Estinien was warped by the true shade of Nidhogg. Even if, some extremely dark part of her notes, the Mistress' take on the two is a ridiculously aesthetically pleasing one.]

[Yenh crosses to the window and begins puzzling out the way the glass and moulding have trapped him. She lays a hand on the wing's wrist.]

Can you feel them? Your wings.

Aye. 'Tis not a mere illusion. They are as much flesh and blood as any part of me.

[With uncharacteristic patience, he waits to attempt to free himself more. Wanting to look no more like a fool than he already does, he much rather Yenh take the lead. She could see his predicament with far greater perspective than him, after all.]

[Yenh was ready to tighten her grip on his wingwrist and Fight Him, for good or for ill, if he struggled. Fortunately, he does not; she merely uses it to guide him out ilm by ilm as she shifts the tangled shards of wood and glass.]

[It's careful work, but he's freed with only minimal new hurt. She draws her hand away so he can have his wing back.]

There.

[A sound leaves him—a mixture of relief and agitation. Dusting himself off and standing at his full height, he's quite the display. Unable to wear his drachen mail, he's taken to the guard uniform—if only because it accommodates the new appendages much too easily. The black wings sprouting from his back, scales adorning his body and face, the tail that curls just above the wooden floor... those imposing horns. He looks like a mock of Nidhogg in human form, and he hates every ilm of it.]

I thank you. However, I would much prefer to take leave of your presence. My pitiful form is not one I wish to inflict on any, least of all you.

[Alas, she's not turning to leave, even if there was part of her that said to. Instead, she kneels down to start very carefully gathering the larger shards of glass. The leather gloves she wears certainly help, but she's not going to take any chances by just grabbing willy-nilly. She starts putting them in a neat little out-of-the-way pile.]

If you wish to leave, I'll not stop you—but if you're trying to protect my sensibilities, then you can put your concerns away.

You're still Estinien, no matter how you look.

[Estinien watches her, and for a moment he considers assisting. One quick quick glance at his clawed hands convinced him otherwise, however. He doubted he'd have an ample grip to pick up the shards, and his fumbling would merely make matters worse.]

Be that as it may...

[he pauses, because he's not entirely sure where he wants to go with that train of thought. Yenh is not Ishgardian, she did not live a life that ingrained horror and discussed at scalekin like he and Aymeric. It makes sense she is undaunted by his grotesque appearance, but he cannot help but feel he is doing her a disservice by inflicting himself upon her vision.]

...Regardless, I must needs find a cure for this, ere I become a true mock of Nidhogg himself. A horror that should never come to pass.

[Yenh is glad she's looking away, because the face she makes is one that Estinien probably shouldn't see. But then again, she's wondering if it would be better that he knows. That, though, she isn't sure.]

[She dusts her gloves off, then turns back to him.]

[What she wants to express is that what he feels is understandable, but it isn't what she feels. That she considers him a good ally and friend, and that things will decidedly get worse before they get better, and that they'll all see him through. That he can count on their support, no matter what happens, in the ways they're best able to.]

[This is what she says, instead, in a perfectly earnest and serious tone.]

If Aymeric is unable to aid you, then I'm confident I can. You need only say the word, my friend.

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