mallowhallow | 004 〖 ♍ ♑〗 video

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004 〖 ♍ ♑〗 video

[The feed opens up slightly shaky, obviously being held by someone quite upset. There’s some hushed muttering as the camera focuses on the front door of a small residence in Orlea. Bright green spray paint is scrawled across the door and windows and siding, spelling out hateful messages such as ‘ALIEN FREAKS’ and ‘GET OUT.’

Porrim, from behind the camera, sighs, and then calls out towards the house:]

Kurloz? You might want to see this...

[From the doorway you can hear footsteps, hurried due to the pitch in her voice. He comes down the stairs and is by her side still out of shot. No sound is made, something that wouldn’t be unusual with the mime, however it’s like the world just stopped. Slowly he steps forward into the view and touches the paint lightly—it was fresh. He looks back at Porrim, face blank and expressionless, the only real way to make a mime speechless

Porrim turns the camera of her phone toward her own face, and it’s like a storm cloud has passed over her normally serene expression; her brows are drawn downward and there’s a toothy scowl on her mouth. But when she speaks, there’s not just anger but a hint of sadness. Who would do something like this...?]

It seems like our neighbors aren’t too happy that we’ve invaded the neighborhood. Too bad we can’t get back in our SPACESHIP— [She raises her voice and shouts that word toward the neighboring houses, before taking a deep, calming breath]—and fly away home. Is anyone else having problems like this?

[[ooc: replies will be coming from both Porrim and Kurloz (

kurloz_makara)!]]

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[Her teeth scrape along his chin as he twists, and she grins, tasting a hint of blood. It appears that her plan has worked, and he's gladly taken the bait. But she doesn't have enough time to dwell on it, because soon his horns are clashing against hers, and she cries out loudly in response through gritted teeth, leaning in so that she can return his rutting, trying to lock the hook of her left horn against his. Her claws dig harder into his neck, now even as her hips rock upward, bulge already unsheathed and squirming in her pants.]

[He could feel the sharp sting of pain from the new wounds, but the contact between their horns wipes his mind clean of all other thought and feeling. He doesn't care if he fell into some sort of trap, he was confident he could turn the situation around in his favor. For a while he avoids the hook, aiming inwards to continue the rutting but not letting her gain the upper hand. But then he lets her hook him, suddenly pulling up so that, that hook scrapes along the grooves of his own horn, reaching nearly to the base. The action forces her head away from the door and incidentally bares his neck for a moment, but he’s sure to not let those teeth get close enough to do anything.]

[For a moment he has to pause, the actions causing an immense amount of pleasure to course through his body. It took all of his control to keep from crying out in pure need, although he couldn't hide the tremors that wracked him to the core. But the game wasn't over yet and he takes advantage of their current positions, using his horns to toss her aside. Not with a violent force but enough to get her off balance. And then he's on her again, tackling her onto the ground with a flash step, door slamming behind him. He makes sure not to hurt her but he is trying to show off and get her to submit. Also he was in a rather kismesis like mood right now, so he was rougher than usual. ]

[The force with which he's rutting against her is really starting to get her going, and she grits her teeth again when her hook finally catches and scrapes down the spiral of his horn. She can't help but let out an animal sort of cry, before she's thrown to the ground like a doll, and he's on top of her, huge and heavy.

Porrim snarls and her claws scrabble at his back, hips pressing up into his hard, accompanied by a shock of pleasure to her bulge. Usually, the two of them lean towards the red end of flushed, but sometimes, like today, they like to get a little concupiscent. She's fine with it. Labels are stupid, anyway.]

[That cry continues to echo in his ears, determined to draw more out of her. By the time they were done here he wanted her voice to be raw.]

[Suddenly he's arching forward as he feels those claws digging into his back, tearing apart skin along with the tank top. Suddenly it becomes apparent that her voice wasn't going to be the only thing that was going to be raw, and just as he's about to retaliate he feels her bulge grind up against his own. He definitely wants more of that, but he's not ready to give her the satisfaction of the win. He pins her down, holding her there as securely as possible, and then he begins to sing. He knew how much that drove her crazy last time, and now he planned to use it as a weapon. Calling her forward yet pushing her back, another challenge to see if she can get herself out of this predicament.]

[He was not going easy on her, hitting her physically and mentally.]

[She grins, breathing jagged, when she feels him arch under her claws, but it's soon replaced by a slight whimper as he pins her down. She squirms, finding that she's unable to move almost completely, but doesn't give up struggling until she hears it. She hears him singing to her, that mating call that's been known to send her into a sort of catatonic state, and her whole body freezes up save for her panting breath. She's trying hard not to react the way she wants to, with a needy cry, because this is still about dominance. So she stares up at him, eyes half-lidded, breathing hard, and if her hips occasionally twitch, then, so be it.]

[His singing grows louder as he doesn't get the reaction her wants, leaning in towards her so their faces are only inches apart. He wants her to cry, to scream, to struggle against his hold. But she certainly is holding out well. In a moment of desperation he presses his bulge down against her's, needing the friction. Staring seems to be working in her favor. The singing stops as he growls lowly in frustration.]

[Fuck. She really can't take it anymore. By the time he stops singing, she's built up a steady crescendo of whimpers, fighting hard against him, trying to move so someone's bulge can be in someone's nook. She doesn't even care by now; that sound has her totally undone. The press of his bulge makes her groan, and she immediately wants more, now.]

[Oh god he can’t stand it ANYMORE! He grinds against her for a while but even that doesn't satisfy the itch, the CRAVING he had for more contact. Suddenly he moves, hands scrambling for his pants as he pulls them down releasing a very frantic bulge, fully unsheathed and leaking. He put on a good show of being in control, but that was all it was, a show. He keen’s, relishing in the release, the appendage wrapping around his wrist as it searches for something better. Good thing the blue jeans where ruined anyway, because now there was a nice purple stain from where it had been previously writhing in his pants. His nook was not helping matters, wet and ready and still leaking from between his legs to stain more the material. ]

[Meanwhile, Porrim is a hot mess underneath him, crying out for him, face flushed jade. God, and it's embarrassing that he's got her undone this quickly; something about the rather black turn this has taken has just done her in.

He's pulling his jeans off now, and it gives her enough of a break from the intense attentions he was giving her before that she can recollect herself a little bit, and she throws herself upward in an attempt to roll him over and get on top of him.]

[He was just about to hold her down again but she was too fast. He tried to counter but with one wrist still tangled around his bulge he ended up going to the side, hitting his shoulder against the floor. He winces and lets out a roaring cry, muffled due to his mouth, which slowly died down into a growl. After all that work we wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand now. He moved onto his back to work his wrist free and grabbed for her, planning on retaking control. But he was also worried about his now free bulge, and it wasn’t helping that his legs where tangled up in his jeans.]

[Porrim snarled triumphantly, excited that she'd managed to catch him off his guard, and tumbled on top of him. While he worked his wrist free, she made a grab for his bulge, taking advantage of his rather vulnerable position. It coiled itself around her wrist, and she hissed in pleasure.]

Gotcha.

[Sitting on his stomach with one arm behind her occupied with his bulge and the other firmly on his shoulder, she went for his throat again with her fangs bared, hoping to distract him from trying to overpower her again.]

[He gasps, his movements stalling as she grabs him by the bulge, his hips arching up into her hand. Shit, he's not sure what to do now. Part of him just wants her to touch him more and bring him to release, the other wanting to fight and reclaim dominance. He lets out a cry of frustration and glares at her, eyes flashing with the power of chuckle voodoo's but the power itself is still locked away.]

[The distraction works as he goes from attacking to defense, arm coming up to block her and the other grabbing the arm holding him down. Usually he would let her bite him, in fact he asked for it, but he knew he would lose if she did this time. His first impulse had been to try and clash with her teeth against teeth, but obviously that wasn't going to happen, not with the stitches anyway.]

[She's actually caught off-guard by the flashing of his eyes; it isn't something she's used to seeing directed toward her, and it makes her back off just for a moment.]

Oh! [ He blocks her from biting him, anyway, and she's surprised enough by this sequence of events that he could overpower her, now.]

[There. He doesn't miss the opportunity and pushes forward, his arm coming underneath her chin and flipping them so he's back on top. He presses down, not to choke but to hold her there, his face hovering above her's. He takes a moment to stare deep into her eyes, the interchanging purple still going. And then he's kissing her again, the claws on his free hand ripping at her clothes. All he could think of was getting her out of them so he can finish this.]

[But he'd also like to make this just a bit more interesting.]

WHAT DOES A BROTHER HAVE TO DO TO GET A SISTER TO LIGHT UP LIKE THE MIRACULOUS ANGEL SHE IS?

[He says straight into her mind, his voice deep and hallow like the dark magic in which it came.]

[She would struggle more, if it weren't for the hand around her throat; she swallows hard and eyes him cautiously, and the slight restriction of her breathing is sexier than she'd have expected. Porrim whimpers as he tears at her clothes, and then suddenly he's in her. In her mind, talking straight into her with a voice like a thousand black wing-beasts. She gasps sharply, and that's enough to make her lose control completely. Like flipping a switch, her skin goes a milky white, glowing in the dim light of their entryway, and her eyes glow yellow and lamp-like.]

Fuck, Kurloz.

[His grin spreads, eyes lowering as he takes in the milky white skin. So beautiful, so exotic, so her...He loved it all. Once he's completely torn to shreds her shirt he pulls down her bra until he sees one of those pierced nipples, bending down for a moment to kiss the edge of it and scrapes it with a stitch on the way back up. But the gentleness in his actions is gone as quickly as it came, bringing down more pressure on her neck and glaring straight into her yellow eyes.]

DON'T YOU EVEN MOTHER FUCKING THINK ABOUT MOVING.

[He sends out as he releases her and sits up to take his own shirt off, keeping a trained eye on her in case she tries something. He wasn't about to lose control again, he already deemed himself the winner, only a matter of time before he gets Porrim to agree.]

[She would have lifted her head to watch him, but the fingers closed around her throat prevent that. So instead, she tries to catch her breath, inhaling sharply when she feels that stitched mouth brushing against her nipple. His return to roughness sends a thrill through her, and she's transfixed by that glowering stare, the overwhelming command to stay still. She can get behind that; instinct is taking over and telling her that to disobey would be a very bad idea. The only movement is the flickering of her lashes as she watches him take his shirt off, a slight clenching and unclenching of her fingers.]

[It takes him a moment to get the tight tank top off, it coming away like a second skin, revealing what can only be the canvas of her desire. What once was untarnished was now littered with small scars and recent wounds of bite marks and claws. Small trails of purple still came from the open wounds on his back and the light shown against barely healed over marks from breakfast. He gets it over his horns and tosses it to the side.]

[After a moment he moves, lifting himself up and releasing her fully. He takes her hand and makes a motion, beckoning her up.]

RISE MY BLOOD SISTER, FOR I AM IN NEED OF YOUR ASSISTANCE WITH A MOTHER FUCKING ANNOYANCE.

[He brings an arm around her and pulls her flush against him, a small gasp escape from his throat as he feels her heat on his naked skin. Every time their skin touches it's like explosion of flame and electricity setting his nerves alight. He brings his face close to her's, their lips nearly touching.]

CUT THEM.

[She can't help but gasp at the mess she's made of his torso, even though it's a familiar sight by now. She also can't help but think it's sort of beautiful. Like artwork.

She clasps his hand tightly, rising, a little shaky, and molds easily to his body. Porrim tilts her face to meet his, and shivers at his next instruction.]

Gladly. [She whispers against his lips, before using her fangs to bite through each and every one of his stitches.]

[He stays still as she works, eye's lowering but never leaving her face, watching and waiting. After a while he begins to pull on the remaining stitches, widening his mouth and allowing the thread to tear into his lips. It stung; it always stung and hurt like a bitch but the end result always made the pain worth it.]

[And he did so love to bleed for her. She could do whatever she pleased to him, put him through hellish pain and it would still come out as pleasure. But he still refused to think of himself as a masochist. He liked pain, but this kind of allowance was reserved for her, because the pleasure came more so from watching/feeling her feed.]

[Rainbow Drinkers man.]

[One of his hands gropes down her back before slipping in what was left of her pants as she finishes. Then he turns, breathing in her scent and letting his teeth gently trace over her skin and down her neck. He stops along a bare piece of shoulder and with his jaw opening wider as his only warning he bit her. But he didn't bite her hard enough to cause permanent damage, only to leave a mark that won't be fading anytime soon and to draw blood.]

[As she works, she savors the little hints of blood she can taste from the wounds being opened back up. Kurloz's blood was among her favorites, sweet and dark and rich as its color might suggest. When she's finished, she pulls away to admire her handiwork, enticed by the possibilities his open mouth allows for.

Her ass wriggles under the hand down her pants, and the hint of his claws against her skin makes her shiver. She doesn't have much warning, and then suddenly he's biting into her. She tenses, letting out a cry that's both pain and something more akin to pleasure, chin tilting upward and her chest heaving as she acclimates to the pain radiating from the teeth in her shoulder.]

Fuck.

[The stitches still hang from his lips, blood coating the black and bringing out the brutality of those scars. he takes a deep breath, the air entering his lungs make him feel like he's been blessed. And blessed he was, cause he knows what he can do now, and he knows how long he can go now without the worry of suffocation. It was another kink of his, but this moment felt different from all the others and he planned to make the most of it, pailing her until the wood was stained with their material.]

[He let his teeth sink in as the blood comes up and flows between his teeth and lips. He couldn't taste it, but the feeling of it did terrible things to him, brilliantly terrible things as he moans deeply around the wound before detaching, lips stained with jade and his own indigo now. Quicker than the eye could see he's pulling her roughly in again and devouring those lips, forcing her to taste her own blood as he lets it flow from his mouth into hers. His nails digging into her soft flesh and marking her down below as well, his hand coming up and leaving jade streaks behind.]

[She gasps at the way his teeth slide out of her flesh, feeling blood pool at the wound, but she doesn't have much time to focus on it before he's kissing her, and she's tasting her own blood. It's not something she's done often, but she does quite like the taste of it—lighter than his, quite a bit warmer, more refreshing. She tenses up, gritting her teeth and letting them clash against his at the sting and scrape of his claws. She's going to be sore in the morning, and she won't be forgetting this anytime soon, she can tell. It's a good thing she doesn't have any tattoos on her ass for him to fuck up.]

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004 〖 ♍ ♑〗 video

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