July TFLN Time

[folkie]

Texts From Last Night

Welcome to Folkmore's Texts From Last Night meme! This meme can be used as a branch off from our Test Drive Memes and be used as game canon or just for casual fun in the setting! You do not need to be in our game or be invited to play on our TFLN. This can be a great way to meet current players for future invites, get a feel for the setting, or just have some fun.

This can be used for samples on our applications and used as spoons for players accepted into the game!

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT GENERATOR

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[fogsong]

Mayerling's emotions exist in between her own, these brilliant little bursts of him. Even the familiar ones, the ones that blend almost seamlessly with her own, feel new. Fresh. Pops of temptation (bloodlust, an echo of hunger) and then the satisfaction of control. This will take time to adjust to but... Fuck, she likes it. A connection she never knew she wanted until it was in front of her.

Her own lips twitch upward—better than sex, he says—and she can't help the dramatic way she responds, breathless with longing, "Oh, what temptation." The words are punctuated with a cheeky grin before she exhales, grin softening. She's always been curious about the bite, it's hard not to be when it's been described to her in such ways, but she knows the consequences of it. D made sure of that and reiterated it when she begged him to bite Falco.

"I'll never ask it of you," she tells him as she reaches to cover the hand upon her cheek, holding it there. "Even if there comes a time where I want it." Her curiosity doesn't count.

"But I do wish there was something more I could do to lessen your struggle."

[whowillmourn]

Sharon's emotions have long been plain, the twitching of her lips accompanied by the change in her breathing, the temperature of her skin, the way her heart beats in her chest, and all the other myriad physical signs that others may not be sensitive enough to pick up yet are plain to him and to his senses. Yet that knowledge differs greatly from feeling her emotions within his own, no longer separate but intertwined. Like quantum physics, the one cannot be separated from the other, not entirely, not even as Mayerling knows his feelings as he has known them for thousands of years (even when he cannot entirely control them), not even when he can observe hers and identify the way she burns brightly within him. No, there's something else, something more now. Some might even say it's better than sex, he muses and jokes to himself.

"Thank you," Mayerling says seriously. Being bitten can itself be tempting and enjoyable when the vampire wishes to make it so. There are all sorts of reasons to find it an irresistible temptation, and Mayerling does not blame those he's loved who wanted it for wanting it. They have, to a one, not been afraid of him, not had that visceral fear of vampires and the bite that most humans on the Frontier have. That gone, they had their reasons. Sharon, too, could want it one day, could have her reasons, yet no matter what they could be, Mayerling appreciates her promise not to ask. Temptation grows stronger when the one he loves and wants so adamantly asks or even begs him for it. It is so much harder to find reason to resist.

"It shall always be a part of who I am, Sharon. As much as I remember the time Johan spent in Trench, the food he ate, all the activities you did with him," the memories make him smile, "they are someone else's memories, not mine. What you can do may be little, yet should you notice the bloodlust get stronger, helping me politely disentangle myself from any social engagements and get away from people will help." There's a reason he does not live in Epiphany.

"It's not nearly so bad here as in Trench, surrounded by blood and blood pollution."

[fogsong]

Sharon can't help the flash of disappointment that rises up within her at how little she can genuinely do to help him but the feeling is quick to fade, replaced with a quiet, albeit frustrated, acceptance. The bloodlust may always be there but she vows to do the little she can whenever she can to help him through it—even if he's entirely capable on his own.

"I will rescue you," she starts, her blue eyes fixed on his deep red (gods, he's pretty), "any time I notice you may need it and I will do it as politely as I am capable." It sounds lighthearted and gently teasing but she means it genuinely. Whatever he may need of her, he will have it, even if all she provides is a moment of distraction or distance.

"But I'll have you know I am as confident as ever in your self-control." She leans forward to press her lips to his and then whispers against them, "You are really very impressive and I admire you."

[whowillmourn]

"Thank you," Mayerling says and means it wholeheartedly, though it's surely not what she wanted. It's not her inclination to do things politely and with the mere exchange of a few words when a more direct avenue can lead to what she wants. Oh she was the queen of deception and leaning on his feelings when the time called for it and her own desires were turned against her by the unfathomable interests of that month's Pthumerian, Dorothea. Yet that was only because the direct approach failed.

"I appreciate your efforts not to draw attention to it, should I need rescuing," Mayerling murmurs against her lips, "At best it is an embarrassment to have others realize, and I greatly hope no one will come to fear being in my presence, however much or little I can do about those who already distrust vampires." Rhys came around in time. Rhys pulls on his heartstrings in a very different way since April.

He kisses her again, softly. "I admire you too, Sharon," Mayerling says, "At the moment, I should like to admire you at length and perhaps whilst we make the argument certain activities are not in fact better than sex. What do you say, love?" Because he knows how she feels, but Sharon's choices remain, as ever, her own.

[fogsong]

"Then I will make certain it is the most inconspicuous rescue ever," she promises him, "No one will think twice of it." She smooths out a fold on his chest as if to do the same to his future worries. The lengths she would go to protect his peace of mind. The messes she would make. And yet she's just as willing to soften her approach for him. It's how he feels that matters the most.

Love is wild.

The lead-up to the question has her raising a brow. Her smile curls up as her heart climbs its way up her throat and a heat settles into her belly. There's no hiding her interest, though she playfully tries and makes a show of consideration. Steps back. Looks him over, smile coy.

And then she abruptly turns to exit the dining area, already hiking her shirt over her head as she sing-songs, "Come on!"

What an eager beaver.