unknownballad | ❝ Let you play me like an instrument ❞

Entry tags:

❝ Let you play me like an instrument ❞

{ but i’m addicted to it, yeah, i’m addicted to it }
🌸 feurian 🌸 vena 🌸 nagare 🌸 aqua 🌸

Once upon a time, Feurian was new to this place. Once upon a time, the Red Tent (as Nagare and Vala call it) was a foreign place to him. It has been long since he's called it home. Believed it home. Now, he has no desire to return to the life he had before, a life that now seemed like a distant dream. To most residing in the compound, Vala and Feurian are fixtures; Nagare's left and right hands. As such, Feurian is part of the unofficial welcoming committee.

But Vena needs no welcome. Vena is no rabbit-hearted creature. Vena is here by his own choice, not trickery, coercion, seduction, or outright kidnapping. Vena is cut from the same cloth as Vala, the resident succubus. It never hurts to have those creatures who encourage the more amorous nature of those around them in a brothel. And it benefits them as well. So much sexual energy on which to feed.

Today is a closed-door day, as most are. Which means the residents of the compound are free to do as they will. Many entertain their own hobbies. Others help out cleaning, stocking supplies, mending clothes and cushions, lighting lanterns and incense. Feurian sometimes oversees the work on supply days. Today, though, he's more interested in getting to know their newest resident.

There's hardly any question as to his intent when he knows so gently on Vena's door. At least he has the decency to bring his instrument with him so they can both pretend there's to this visit than on its face (what else could one intend when visiting an incubus?). While this place is decorated all in rich reds and golds, with splashes of deep violets and blues, Feurian arrives dressed all in desaturated blues accented with whites (to better accentuate his silvery hair - once upon a time, Nagare chose these colors for him). They're thin silks, barely even there at all. They hide little, hanging from his broad shoulders as delicately as the many fabrics curtained from the ceilings.

"I have yet to pay you a proper welcome." Another excuse made when Vena opens his door.

There was nothing sneaky or underhanded to get Vena here. No manipulating or kidnapping. Nothing but a simple sales pitch. Very simple. The owner of the establishment needed to do nothing more than mention that it was a brothel where Vena would be given his fair share of the clients. And plenty of sexual energies, besides, to keep him well fed.

Nagare had to say very little for Vena to agree to spend at least at least some time here. And so far, it's been time well spent.

Today, however, is less than. Today, there are no clients. Today, it's just the residents left to their own devices. Some find ways to entertain themselves while others busy themselves with helping around the compound. Vena does neither. He lays on his bed like a maiden on her Victorian chaise, looking wholly displeased. He's here to take and be taken by clients, not to do chores. So he's not so politely refused.

Slowly, he lifts his head to look toward the door when he hears that gentle knocking. He pushes himself up and climbs to his feet, padding across the room and pulling the door open. Nagare's elf. If Vena is surprised to see him, it's only because it's taken longer than expected for Feurian to come sniffing around. In contrast to Feurian's desaturated blues and whites, Vena is dressed all in black. A sheer robe and little else is all that covers his thin frame, the robe loosely cinched at his waist and hanging loosely off of one narrow shoulder, exposing much of his pale skin.

"I was invited here and put immediately to work. I haven't been feeling especially welcome." Throwing the door open wide, Vena saunters over to sit in one of the cushy chairs in the room. Silent invitation for Feurian to enter.

The door, at least, gets closed behind Feurian. Not that privacy is a major concern. Yes, everyone has a private room. Yes, there are even more rooms for those who prefer to keep the work separate from their personal space. Yes, there are hundreds of little nooks to hide in. But there are also just as many open spaces. During the open houses, it's more common to see many people engaged in many acts on cushions in the main hall. Privacy when it comes to sex isn't something many here feel is a requirement.

But Feurian isn't a client. And this room is Vena's space. If the incubus wanted to screw in the hall, he would've come out instead of inviting Feurian in. Normally, he would look around, try to glean something of the resident's personality and tastes based on how they adorn their space. However, in this instance, his eyes are drawn to Vena and the elf is unable to pull them away. To be expected, surely, but in the midst of the incubus' spell, it hardly feels like anything but nature at work.

"Oh," Feurian sighs, tipping his head to the side as he moves deeper into the room. "A true pity." A pity that a sex demon who came willingly to this very elite brothel has had to do the one thing he came here to do. Feurian's familiar with the magnetism of these creatures; he's spent so many years beside Vala. That doesn't make him any less swayed by it. Vena's a small creature with a powerful aura. It almost makes his slight, delicate stature surprising.

As he comes closer, Feurian lays his instrument on the nearest surface. Did either of them really think he was going to play for the incubus. "How can I make you feel more welcome?"

The door is of no real concern to Vena. It's comfort that he seeks currently, not privacy. Privacy is a very human concept brought on by a sense of shame. Shame, which is something a demon like Vena does not feel. He simply doesn't see the need to hide himself away behind closed doors, and conduct himself in hushed tones like some humans do. If he wants to get screwed out in the open, there's nothing stopping him. Especially not here. Vena fully intends to learn how every surface in this compound feels against his bare skin.

For now, his room will do. That's not to say that this is where they'll stay, but it'll do for now. Vena lets his head fall back against the top of the chair and rolls it to one side so he can watch Feurian cross the room, admire the way his body moves beneath the silks. Even without having tried the elf out for himself (yet), he can see why this one might've caught Nagare's eye.

"A true pity," Vena echoes, his tone sounding not entirely unlike that of a petulant child. Truthfully, coming here to find out he could start taking clients almost immediately was about as warm a welcome as he could get. He's even already gotten himself a small collection of gifts given to him for the pleasure of his company. Those are the only things, currently, that mark this as Vena's own private room. He hasn't really taken the time to make it his own yet.

Vena picks up his head only once Feurian grows closer, eyes following the instrument as he sets it down. Neither of them ever thought he was going to play. No one who saw Feurian approaching Vena's room with the instrument in hand believed he would play a single note. There is a reason why someone may visit an incubus and music is not it.

Ah but he's a large one, isn't he? So tall and broad. Muscular. A far cry from the lithe, fragile looking thing that's practically draping himself over the chair now. It would be easy to mistake the smaller one as the weaker of the two. A mistake not often repeated.

Vena hums thoughtfully as he stretches one leg out to hang over the arm of the chair, the robe sliding off to the side to expose his thigh. "Give in to me, and give in to your urges."

Before becoming a fixture here, Feurian was a ranger. An elite warrior protecting the outskirts of his forest home from all intruders, human and monster alike. It shows in the powerful, toned muscle moving beneath those robes.

There once was a time when Feurian felt shame for falling so far. Tricked and captured by a mere human! Forced into acts he once thought unspeakable. Now? Well, as stated, Feurian's a fixture. He's Nagare's right hand. He's Nagare's favorite. Does any of that mean he doesn't work like the rest of the residents? Not at all. Feurian has his own following of devoted clients that he services regularly before turning around to pay the same care and attention to his master.

Since neither of them wish to dance around the reason for Feurian's visit, the elf simply chuckles as he closes the distance. Stopping just in front of Vena, he practically looms over the incubus with all his height. He tilts his head to peer down at that sultry creature, eyes moving with a nearly physical weight over the barely concealed planes and angles of Vena's body. Ah, deep in the back of his mind he wishes he could give this stunning creature a different experience than he must usually get. How he wishes the desire didn't burn so hot it made him feel feverish and muddles his thoughts before even their first touch.

Alas, he's never been a match for Vala either. It's enough to stop when his legs bump the chair Vena is sitting so ridiculously in. It's enough to stoop just a little to trail his fingers over that tempting leg.

"My dear friend, giving in is all we do here."

And now that same care and attention will be paid to Vena. His new master? In a sense, Vena likes to think.

As Feurian draws ever closer, Vena's eyes slowly climb higher, taking in the full height and size of the elf in front of him. Were another in Vena's place, they might feel intimidated by the looming presence. Vena is not so easily intimidated, however. Not when he knows that he holds all the power here.

Reaching out toward the elf, Vena runs his fingers over the soft silk, gathering some of it in his hand and tugging on it gently before letting it fall back into place. Such lovely silks will look beautiful discarded in the corner. Or perhaps he'll instruct Feurian to keep them on. He always did enjoy the feel of silk against his bare skin. The beautiful elf draped in silks, draped over him. Delightful.

Vena rights himself in the chair just enough to allow him to easily lift his leg from the arm, pressing it more into Feurian's light touch. "And yet there you stand." Further up, he lifts his leg so he can plant his bare foot in the middle of Feurian's chest, using it to push the elf back to give himself barely enough room to stand. He climbs to his feet, his body brushing against Feurian's as he does, then shrugs out of his robe, allowing the sheer fabric to pool around his feet.

"Show me why you have so many devoted clients. Show me what makes you the favourite."

Why is he the favorite? Well, not being hurried is one of the reasons. Any beast can pounce a mate and rut to completion. A lover is someone who has a care and a hand in their partner's pleasure. Perhaps another reason the incubus' spell is so irksome. Ah, but it's a pleasant spell, isn't it? Beginning warm and growing in temperature with each passing moment. Making the world around Vena blur softly and leaving only him in sharpest focus.

Him and sound of black silk slithering over his skin as gravity pulls it to the ground. As beautiful as the sight of it, the revelation of now bared skin that was barely hidden before. That's more than enough to get a noticeable response from the elf. Feurian isn't quite as scantily clad as Vena, but a thin layer of silk does little to hide the way his cock is filling out just beneath it.

For now, at least, two can play the touching game. Feurian reaches between them, the back of his hands brushing against that impossibly soft skin (is it really or is that part of the spell? Does is dull some senses while heightening others? Will Feurian eve truly know?). With a practiced move, the sash holding his robe barely closed tumbles to the floor. A roll of his shoulders and all that pale blue follows, fluttering as it goes.

Without another word (what more words are needed?), Feurian reaches out, fingers tracing Vena's jaw, tiling his head back to the tall elf can lean in for the first touch of those luscious lips. So inviting, it's as if the first taste of them makes him feel starved, as if Vena's mouth is all he's ever craved. Any beast can rut, he reminds himself. The incubus asked something of him: show him why Feurian is Nagare's favorite, why he has his loyal clients. He can't do that if he lets his mind cease to function in favor of a sloppy fuck.

So the kiss, while heated, is soft. It's slow, utterly exploratory. It lets Feurian map the shape of them with his own lips and tongue before slipping into the wet heat of that wanton mouth. One hand remains cupped against Vena's jaw, but the other goes wandering. Across the incubus' chest, fingers dallying too briefly to toy at his nipples before moving on. Down his sternum to the soft spot where the rib give way. Lower still until his hand trails to one side. His fingers follow the hollow inside his hip, up over the iliac crest, along his side, before slipping to the small of his back to tug the slight creature closer.

Ah so taking his time earns him favour. Giving the illusion of a precious lover there to ensure their partner's pleasure. A far cry from Vena, the beast who will pounce a mate and rut to completion. Or entice the mate to pounce him. He is not a lover who'll be sure that his partner is well taken care of all throughout the encounter, he is a creature built around the very act of sex, itself. His very being makes them want it from him and keep wanting it. Yes, they feel deep love and devotion to him, but he feels nothing for them. It's merely a side effect of getting too close to an incubus, after all. It's to ensure that they choose him and only him, that they keep seeking him out for more, so he can keep taking and taking from them until there's nothing left. He's a very selfish creature.

In time, it's likely that Vena will establish himself as a favourite among clients, but not because of anything special he does for them (though isn't getting to lay with an incubus quite special? Vena certainly thinks so), rather it's simply because of what he is. They really can't help themselves.

Vena inhales slowly and deeply when the elf's hand brushes his bare skin, and his eyes drop down the creatures statuesque body, watching as his hand makes short work of the robe's sash in the barely enough space between them. "Big everywhere," he purrs as the pale blue robe slips to the floor, leaving the elfin man bare before him. His discovery is hardly a new one, as the silks did little to hide Feurian's body from him, and he could feel it starting to press against him once he removed his own robe, but now he gets to confirm it with his own eyes.

What to do with it first, though? Touch it? Taste it? Take it inside of him and claim the elf as his own? Alas, he's never given the chance to make the decision because Feurian reaches out and touches him so sweetly, tips his head up and claims his mouth so hungrily. Just how much of that hunger was put there by Vena and how much of it belongs to the elf, he wonders. An idle thought. Who can know for sure? Vena's influence is strong but perhaps Feurian's wants are as well. He could almost feel bad for Feurian who may never again know if any feeling is his own or put there by the incubus' spell. Almost, if that weren't part of its purpose.

The kiss is frustratingly soft and slow. Hungry, heated, but soft. But he follows Feurian's lead for now. See where this is going. He instructed Feurian to show him why he's so popular among clients and his human master so this must be a part of it. It's frustrating, but not unpleasant. Especially not with the addition of the hand moving over his body. He slides his own tongue against Feurian's and reaches up to drape his arms over those broad shoulders, a soft sigh slipping into the larger creatures mouth as deft fingers briefly pass over his nipples. He lazily sways his hips every so slightly as Feurian's hand moves further down his body. Ah, but the swaying doesn't stop once Feurian tugs him close and Vena presses in closer still. The swaying doesn't stop because it's rubbing him against the cock pressing into his skin. He pulls back from the kiss. Barely enough for it to truly end. Little enough that Feurian's tongue can remain in Vena's always inviting mouth. Only enough for Vena to breathe out a hushed, sultry moan against the broad creature's lips.

What makes Feurian the master's favorite is simple: Nagare trained Feurian to be everything he wanted. He's a good student. He learns quickly, mimics well. With clients, he often mirrors their body language to help the enticement. Yes, they know they're getting sex no matter what, but Feurian makes it seem like their desire is matched by his own. It isn't that he doesn't like it — no, indeed, Feurian enjoys sex immensely — but he'd definitely more eager than some of the residents.

But now he has to learn quickly. He wants to learn what Vena wants. Surely a sex demon can enthrall his partner to do anything he desired. Yet he's allowing Feurian to demonstrate his skills before resorting to that. Is Vena truly curious? Does it even matter to Vena if the sex is good or would any three-pump-chump suffice as long as he got his hit of energy?

Feurian wants to ask questions. He wants to be a satisfying partner for this creature. Ah, but he also simply wants to map out every inch of him with his mouth. He wants and wants and wants. He wants those sultry lips on his cock. He wants those lithe legs wrapped around his waist as he humps into the incubus with all his might. He wants to fill him up again and again and again. He wants...

Those strong, calloused hands make one more pass down Vena's sides. Giving in is what Vena said he wants. So, give in Feurian will. Surely there will be more opportunities for them to sleep together in the future. Without any preamble, Feurian slides his hands to Vena's ass and hefts him off his feet in a single easy motion. Better get those legs around him, Vena. One arm loops around his waist to support the incubus' slight weight while the other feels around beneath him to guide his cock to the hole he's certain is more than ready for him.

Feurian's eyes fall closed as the swollen head breaches that tight ring of muscle, spreading the channel wide for the thick shaft that follows. It's utter bliss the way Vena's body provides just the right amount of resistance, allowing him to penetrate deeply in one smooth thrust, but still feel so maddeningly tight. AS if this body was made to fit him like a bespoke glove.

While he could twist up Feurian's desires even further to more align with his own, making him do as the incubus pleases, he truly is curious about the elf. He wants to see what Feurian is capable of when he's not falling victim to the heavy push of Vena's wants and desires. What can he do? Is he able to stand out in a sea of partners, or will he be no different than the rest? See, it does matter to him if the sex is good. That doesn't mean he won't take mediocre or bad, but he has his preferences like everyone else. Good and varied, adventurous sex (can sex still be adventurous to an incubus after so long or is he just curious where the adventure might lie for others?), a big partner with a big cock, and a deep pool of stamina. He can intervene and make them ready for more when he needs to but he does prefer a partner who can go the distance under their own power.

So any quick fuck will do in a pinch, but he'd prefer it be good. If he's going to spend his entire existence eating the same meal, it should at least taste nice, right?

Vena threads his fingers together at the back of Feurian's neck, staring up at the elf through half-lidded eyes and running his tongue over his lips as though intimately aware of the man's wants. And isn't he though? Even if it's not a want he put there himself, it's hardly difficult to tell. Many a man, human and otherwise, has wanted to slip their cock between the lips of the incubus. There will be plenty of time and opportunity for that, though. If not now then soon enough. This will hardly be their last time together. Vena's chosen Feurian to be his which means this is only the beginning. He will feast on this elf.

Kicking his legs up, Vena wraps them tightly around Feurian's waist. Thick yet slim. Shapely. He can feels the veins on Feurian's lower abdomen against his inner thighs. He'll taste each one another time. Later. For now, he can feel Feurian searching around beneath him, guiding his cock to its rightful place in the body of the incubus.

Vena's breathing deepens and his back arches as Feurian pushes himself inside, stretching out Vena's body in a way that's like pure ecstasy. He lays his head on Feurian's shoulder as he sinks deep, breathing out a sound that's equal parts moan and a sigh of relief. Like Feurian's finally scratched a centuries old itch. Oh, but he feels so satisfyingly full already. He chose well, didn't he?

"You belong to me now," he purrs into the elf's ear, tightening his muscles to squeeze the cock penetrating him so deeply.

There will be time for more. Of that Feurian is sure. The residents of this place have little but time on their hands. And, well, he's at least passingly familiar with the appetites of sex demons. Vala and her seemingly divine cunt have been the downfall of a many a man. She certainly provided Feurian with more than a little comfort in his early days here. She always seems to restrain her powers with fellow residents, more so than with clients.

For a moment, a few blessed seconds when time seemed to go soft and stretch long around them, Feurian's mind went completely blank. In that moment, nothing exists but the hot body against him. Those deceptively strong limbs wrapped around him, the heat and grip of Vena around his cock making him desperate for movement. The sound of Vena's sighed moan helps to pull Feurian back out of the sensations alone.

If there was going to be movement, Feurian has to initiate it. Perhaps some other time he would take the time to simply enjoy warming his cock inside Vena, but now is not that time. Once his brain remembers that it controls his body, the elf's hands move to grip Vena's legs just beneath his ass. He wastes no time in lifting the incubus, then letting gravity aid in pulling him back down, dragging his tight hole along the full length of Feurian's aching cock.

You belong to me now. Is that really Vena's decision to make?

Probably. It very probably is. It's well-known how easily anyone can become addicted to sex demons. If Vena wants Feurian, Feurian he'll have.

Some other time, Vena will simply enjoy some time sitting on the elf's cock. He'll take pleasure in the way it stretches out his body and presses against his insides, he'll delight in how it makes him feel almost too full. Some other time, Feurian will have his chance (plenty of chances) to warm his cock inside the incubus, but not now. Now, Vena craves movement. His greatest desire is to be fucked by the beautiful elf. He wants to see if Feurian really is worth Vena's claim over him. Does he have it in him to satisfy the sex demon? His dick, alone, is already making a pretty compelling argument.

When Feurian lifts Vena and allows gravity to do the rest, it's time for Vena's mind to go a little blank. Just a flash of nothing but pleasure. There's a full-bodied moan followed closely by a grunt of effort as he tries to pull himself back up, back along the full length of Feurian's impressive cock. Keep going, Feurian. Don't stop. Keep putting your strong arms to work.

Vena tangles one hand in Feurian's long hair as his moans become a little softer, more breathy. Feurian belongs to Vena now. He fully believes that is his decision to make. The one he has his eye on rarely has a say in the matter and Feurian's human master can't possibly compete with the allure of an incubus. So that leaves the decision solely in Vena's hands, does it not? Vena certainly thinks so.

"You'll stay here with me until morning?" he asks when his pleasure allows it. "Or longer?" Though it's posed as a question, it isn't meant as one. They have some time before Nagare opens the doors to clients again, and Vena intends to spend as much of that time exploring Feurian as he can.

Don't worry, Vena. Stopping is the farthest thing from Feurian's mind. A breathy moan escapes him as gravity pulls Vena back down on him, as he's once again enveloped by the heat of that incubus. There's barely time for Vena to even try to hoist himself up again. Feurian's already setting a steady pace, essentially bouncing the small incubus on his dick. Why withhold what they both desire?

It's been some time since Feurian's been with a significantly smaller partner. He almost forgot how much he enjoyed it. No doubt being able to manhandle the little incubus somewhat regularly will remind keep that pleasure fresh in his mind. Maybe being Vena's won't be such a bad thing after all.

"If you like," he manages to pant out.

Vena tightens his arms around Feurian's shoulders to pull himself closer to the elf's body, as well as tightens his grip on that blond hair. Each small movement draws out a moan or pleasured sigh. Each time he drops back down onto Feurian's cock, it's like the whole world drops away, like there's nothing else beyond just the two of them. The two of them and their combined pleasure.

Shame on Nagare for keeping this creature here where Vena couldn't find him sooner.

It's times like this, when he's being so easily and effortlessly manhandled by Feurian, when he has real appreciation for his human form. Even without his innate abilities, a staggering number of men gravitate toward a smaller, somewhat effeminate young man. It makes them feel powerful. It makes them feel more comfortable about sticking their dick in a partner who appears to be male, until they're fully taken by the incubus' power and it no longer bothers them. But so rarely does he have the pleasure of having a partner who is significantly larger than him. A partner who can make him feel as small as he appears. A partner who can make him feel as though he's entirely at their mercy, even though that will rarely ever be true.

"I'd like," he sighs into the elf's ear, the words followed closely by deep, sultry moans.

Vena pulling himself closer is most welcome. Feurian likes contact during sex generally, even more so with this incubus. Yes, there will be time for him to map out Vena's body later, but he craves more of it even now. It isn't enough for those lissome limbs to be wrapped around him. He wants to feel everything Vena has to offer right here, right now.

There's nothing wrong with them both enjoying the illusion. Especially when they're both aware it's nothing more than that. Perhaps that knowledge puts Feurian at an advantage compared to others who want (or wanted) Vena. Feurian's very aware that Vena holds all the power. And maybe that makes this all the more enjoyable.

With Vena's lips against his ear, it's too easy for Feurian to turn his head, to drag his lips and tongue over the tender skin of the incubus' throat. Hot, wet kisses, the subtle scrape of teeth, tender nips and bites. All until he finds a delectable spot to suck. Can he leave a mark on the incubus? He doesn't even know.

The contact is incredible. Feeling so much of his partner's body against his is like a drug. He can't get enough of it. Feeling the heat rolling off of his partner's skin, the sweat as they really start to exert themselves. Feeling the way their heart pounds for him and him alone. It really adds to the experience. It heightens it. It also helps him to establish himself as the thing his partner needs most. It forms a connection between them. Humans do often rave about skin to skin contact. That's something that he agrees with the humans about.

There's most certainly nothing wrong with the both of them enjoying the illusion that Feurian is the one in control. There's no harm in playing into the idea that Vena is truly the dainty thing he presents himself as. They both know the difference. Maybe that really is an advantage that Feurian has over others, the awareness that Vena holds all the power between them and of the situation he's in. He knows and that gives him an edge over Vena's other partners.

Vena's breathing quickens and his moves his head a little further to the side, letting the elf explore more of his exposed neck. The feel of lips and teeth and tongue, the suckling at his skin, it draws out moan after moan. With enough effort, Feurian may be able to mark the incubus, but he'll be fighting against Vena's body at its peak, when its healing is at its fastest. Yet Vena slides his hand up through Feurian's hair, up to the back of his head, holding the elf's face against his neck, practically demanding he try. See if he can't leave his mark on the incubus, temporary though it may be.

Feurian may realize Vena’s in control, but that knowledge is, very quickly, becoming wholly unimportant. It’s simply burning away under the taste of the incubus on his tongue, of that perfectly tender skin beneath his lips. And of course that mind-numbing friction Vena’s body provides with every move they make. Maybe they’re both fortunate that Feurian’s had previous experience with the resident succubus so he’s not so lost in the sex demon’s spell to be an embarrassingly unsatisfying partner.

The elf’s fingers knead at Vena’s ass cheeks even as he continues to bounce the incubus up and down on his cock. It won’t be much longer before he seeks out some surface to stabilize Vena so Feurian can have a fuller range of motion. But for now, he’s content to move his body as much as this position will allow. He can’t complain about the perfect depth that lets him bottom out every time Vena drops back down on his aching length.

And, yes, he is challenging himself to see if he can suck a bruise into existence, however briefly on Vena’s throat. The hands in his hair demand it! Well, even if he can’t leave a mark on Vena, Feurian’s sure to leave a little something behind inside him when all is said and done.

"Do you want to see something neat?"

That was all it took for Aqua to go bounding off after the strange man. No questions or second thoughts, nothing more than an enthusiastic nod of his head and an excited 'yes'. There's still so much on land that he hasn't seen yet so he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to see even more.

He needs to learn to ask questions. He needs to start thinking before immediately agreeing to something. He needs to be just a little more skeptical of people. Stop blindly trusting them just because it hasn't gone poorly for him yet.

But he made a big circle and it looked watery and he'd never seen water do that before! Walking through it changed everything around him in a way that's so different than slipping under the waves. It's different in a way that's not at all like the differences between the land and sea. This is indoors. And there are people. And he can't smell or hear the ocean anymore. Is he suddenly far away from the ocean (he doesn't like that) or perhaps this place just blocks out the smells and sounds of outside (still distressing but not quite as bad).

Even still, he seems intrigued by the change of scenery. He's smiling as he looks around, waving to anyone he sees. Humans and... not? Oh that's fun! He doesn't run off to talk to the other people like he normally might. In such a strange place where there are none of his usual comforts, he sticks near the one person he's even marginally familiar with: Nagare. In fact he actually wraps his arms around one of Nagare's.

"Where did we go? Where are we now?"

Travel between dimensions and worlds isn't something Nagare can explain. He's sure there's some part physics and some part magic to it all. It's not common anywhere he's been to (or else everyone would just up and leave shitty places, exactly as he did). It took some doing and more than a few 'favors' to get his own little, completely autonomous pocket dimension set up. Why did he bother? Because moving his ever-growing collection was getting harder and harder. And finding places where they could exist without the dangers of social mores and politics getting in the way was also getting harder. So, Nagare built a place where he called all the shots and if you didn't play by his rules, you couldn't ever return.

Walking through the portal was somewhat like passing under a sudden, cool mist. Almost immediately, it sealed up behind them. Where it once was now stands a solid wall with a large, ornate mirror. The mirror, of course, has nothing to do with their passage; it's just a convenient landmark that Nagare uses to navigate his way back home. Nagare barely spares a curious look when Aqua wraps himself around his arm. Instead, he simply leads him down the hall, each archway they passed draped with sheer fabrics, mostly in reds and golds, but other jewel-tones as well.

"This place is called The Red Tent. It's a secret world for only me and my lovely creatures."

At a crossing, Nagare makes a single turn and the room opens up. Were it out of doors, one could've called it a courtyard. More of the colored cloth draped over the ceiling giving it a tent-like atmosphere, something Nagare wonders if Aqua will recognize being so new to the land. The room is a large a banquet hall, full of low tables and colored cushions. Every table is adorned with flower petals along the radius and a hookah positioned in the center. Incense censers dangle from the canopy above them, filling the large room with a warm, welcoming scent. There are even a few people milling about — some appearing human and some obviously now. Some seem to be busying themselves with arranging the tables and cushions just so, while others recline against those cushions, picking apart fresh fruits and taking long drafts from the hookahs.

At some point, Aqua releases the death grip he has on Nagare's arm, instead opting to take his hand and just remain incredibly close. So he's not exactly glued to the man's side now, but he's still not giving him any space either. This is his temporary comfort human, which is necessary for a strange place with no familiar sights or smells. He needs Nagare right now. Oh how that'll change in time.

"Pretty," Aqua muses to himself as he looks around at the beautiful fabrics, reaching out to touch them whenever they get near enough for him to do so without having to move too far from Nagare's side. Those fabrics are such beautiful colours and so flowy, almost like if they were a barely solid water. They look like they'd be nice to wrap himself in.

When Nagare speaks, Aqua tears his attention away from the draped fabrics to listen carefully. He's trying to take in everything about this place so it stops being so unfamiliar. The Red Tent (what's a tent?). A secret world. Just the human and his creatures (does he know that Aqua is a creature too?). Creatures Aqua waves to as he sees them, even if they're not looking at him. He's trying to be friendly!

This whole place is incredible though. It seems so cozy and inviting. Though the onslaught of new smells is a little overwhelming and the lack of ocean smell is still distressing. "Is there more that we can see?"

Everyone's reaction is different. Of course, not many came here by their own choice. That difference alone makes Aqua's introduction to his new home a unique one, for him and for Nagare. Typically, his creatures are not conscious when they arrive here. When they wake, it's in a strange room, in a strange place they never agreed to go. Nagare rarely gets the option to tour one of them like this.

Many of those present take note of their master and his companion. Some look surprised, others merely wave and smile in turn, some of both groups remain curiously watching. It's as rare for them to see Nagare walking someone through who isn't a potential client. The only giveaway that Aqua isn't one is the way he clings fast to Nagare. Nagare wouldn't tolerate that from a potential client.

"There is much more. There are several buildings on the compound. Many creatures and many things to see. Shall I show you a place to swim?"

Aqua came here of his own choice, but he had no idea where 'here' was or what it was going to mean for him. He didn't know that he was agreeing to stay here, almost like he was agreeing to his own kidnapping. Had he had even half an idea of what was happening, he would never have come along with Nagare, curiosity be damned. Then he would've been no different than many of the others. Brought here by force, unconscious.

For now, though, this is actually nice. It's a nice alternative to a situation he didn't even know could've happened.

His smile brightens and his waving grows more enthusiastic and vigorous when some of the others smile and wave back. So far, this seems like a decent place with good people. He'd like to get to know some of them sometime. Maybe ask some of them why they're looking at him with such shocked faces.

Aqua is about to ask about the other building and the many creatures, but all of that is pushed aside when he hears the word 'swim'. He's like a sleeper agent finally hearing his activation word. He practically vibrates with excitement and that nervous energy he was feeling is momentarily gone. Gently, he tugs at Nagare's hand. "Yes please! I would like it see!"

Oh, there is a very specific demographic that this little one will appeal to. Nagare will have to keep an eye on some of them, of that he's sure. While they may not have exhibited any untoward behavior in the past, there's always the possibility. There are some who prefer to break nice toys like this. Nagare won't have it.

"Now, keep in mind it's no ocean and manage your expectations. It's only a pool." A very large pool, but a pool none the less.

He leads them through an open-air walkway that leads outside the building proper. It seems to be the back of the building, but stretching out very far just behind it is a shimmering clear pool. The main body is somewhat round, like a small lake or pond, but in two directions, river-like tendrils sprout and vanish into the distance.

"One leads to a cave like structure our siren prefers. The other stays in the open air like this."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

❝ Let you play me like an instrument ❞

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Is there some ~other~ way I can pay?

why yes, hunky service worker~

Re: why yes, hunky service worker~

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a totally temporary visit to the red tent

oh yes, totally temporary. aqua's not stuck here 5ever now

just a quick tour and then he's going home right? RIGHT??

Hahahahahaha... hahaha... haaa...

STOP LAUGHING AND SAY 'RIGHT'!! D:

Okay, okay. (ahem) Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.