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Test Drive Meme: The Overflow
PLEASE CONTINUE YOUR THREADS OVER AT THE LATEST OVERFLOW POST, THANK YOU.
Please note that all CR in this meme can be carried over when the game starts between characters that are accepted into the game.
Threads can also count towards third and first person samples on the application, just provide links.
Take a look at our OOC Meet and Greet post! Meet. Greet. Make friends. Have fun!
 THE OVERFLOW Since the last post is fast approaching 3k comments and getting laggy for some of our players, we have decided to go ahead and stick up the overflow post. Please continue your threads or start new ones here if you'd like. To make this easier on those continuing threads from the last meme, here's a handy form: Please remember to let your thread partners know you've bumped your threads over here as well! We started the meme early to give you plenty of room to do just that. With the City of Ariel grand opening only a month away, we are holding our first ever test drive meme. Tag in and see how your character would settle in the game. You're a fresh face in the city, newly processed, and arriving at a bustling time. The city is expanding and you are greeted first in the re-education center by your helpful counselors and then directed out of the building to a large festival. Be puzzled, make friends, have sex, or whatever you want! There are no restrictions on thread types played out here. Your first awareness that something has gone wrong comes during a groggy moment of semi-lucidity when you look around yourself and find that -- instead of wherever you remember being last -- you're in a chair, in a room with a man you don't recognize. He's sitting behind a desk whistling to himself and sorting paperwork. The whole atmosphere might remind you of a high school guidance counselor's office, only with far more comfortable chairs. You were brought to Ariel during a very special time! There's a large festival going on celebrating the new expansions to the city and everything is decked out for it. Everything is bustling and vibrant in the city today because of the celebrations. There are decorations up, food vendors set up all along the streets, kissing booths, games, and just about anything else you can imagine an event like this would have! The people of Ariel are out and about as well, some are in vibrant costumes and others are just checking out the sights. Some of the more exhibitionist types are even having a little more fun out in public than you may be used to seeing back home. As soon as the grogginess from your arrival passes, you are allowed to leave the re-education center and see it all for yourself. Upon exiting, you are even handed beads of various colors, several of each so you don't worry about running out. Each color has a special meaning listed below: pink - toys These are to aid you in making a connection with others. Show your interest in others and tell them exactly what you would like to do with them by sharing the beads. If you would rather take a different approach, feel free to walk around the festival and see what (or who) catches your eye. The point is to relax and get settled in your new home. | |
| TAG IN - Post your character's name, canon, and preferences. - Set up an opener in your comment or leave it blank. - Tag around and have fun! | USEFUL LINKS: [Premise] [Rules] [F.A.Q.] [Locations] [Local Citizens (NPC)] [Taken] [Wanted] [Reserves] [Application] [Main] [Logs] [OOC] |
Please note that all CR in this meme can be carried over when the game starts between characters that are accepted into the game.
Threads can also count towards third and first person samples on the application, just provide links.
Take a look at our OOC Meet and Greet post! Meet. Greet. Make friends. Have fun!
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I'm not asking for your opinion.
[It's a little more biting than he intends for it to be, because if Setsuna isn't going to cut into him, Mello is going to have to do it himself and that is far more dangerous. Not to mention, sitting so closely without a real purpose may lead to temptation, and with a chip in his head already, Mello does not want to put up with that.]
I'm not asking you to stab me or slit my throat. Just cut carefully.
[Mello moves in closer, to where any more movement will result in touch. Maybe if he manipulates this situation...]
Come on. I need help.
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No, Mello doesn't ask for opinions, he demands things and expects them to be done, but Setsuna is stubborn. Setsuna is also probably the better thinker between the two of them, amazingly enough, as he's about to demonstrate.
Setting the flick blade down, he instead traces the tip of his finger delicately over where Mello's scar is, right above the ear. Delicately, so as not to startle him. Mello's movements now are of one who is no longer masking sexual intent, but he's still not taking his chances in getting shoved off or told off due to crossing a potential line. ]
The point of incision is here, yes. But...
[ The finger trails up, to the side of his head, taps against it. ]
The chip is obviously embedded in the brain, to be affecting us so directly.
[ And Setsuna is sure he need not explain that cutting his skull open and trying to perform brain surgery with a flick blade is serious no bueno. He'll let the logic sink in for a moment, hide the fact that his breath is quickening and dammit, Mello, you're seriously ruining his stoic reputation here, and just waits to see what he'll do, more than a little anxious. ]
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The touch makes him consider pulling back. It's so gentle, and it is a far cry from the slicing of skin for which Mello is pushing. He doesn't, though. He lets Setsuna run his fingers along his head, sitting perfectly still.]
You don't know that.
[And yes, his voice is low, even a little dark.]
A chip doesn't have to be in the brain to send impulses or measure hormone levels.
[He reaches up and takes Setsuna's hand, pulling it downward. His other hand leaves the gun in his lap to pick up the knife, putting it into Setsuna's hand, but allowing his own hand to linger over it.]
Try.
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That does not mean he's willing to slice into someone to satisfy a morbid curiosity. Setsuna makes no claims that he can veer into unstable territory at times, and maybe has enjoyed slicing up certain opponents more than he should, but it's a side of himself he keeps carefully under wraps, stowed away under lock and key. Mello might wear it as a badge of honor, but Setsuna is more than a little ashamed that sometimes, he's taken just a hint of pleasure at tearing into someone.
It reminds him that he lost most of his sanity a long time ago.
Setsuna's fingers close around the knife immediately, around Mello's, but he won't budge another inch, or even do anything else, besides thin his eyes. ]
I don't want to hurt you, Mello.
[ He'll drop his tone too, then. That, combined with his half-lidded expression, should hopefully convey that this is Mello's last chance to cut the overtly sexual advances. Setsuna is controlled, but he is not quite controlled enough to stop himself if he is interested and if said interest is reciprocated and blatantly provoked. ]
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Setsuna.
[His tone is still low and suggestive, but there is a commanding quality to it, a pressure. He once again takes Setsuna's hand, this time bringing it to his face, pressing it to the burn scar, making a point in the gesture — look what I have been through, do you honestly think that a little cut means anything to me?]
I want you to hurt me.
[Cut it out, yes, find that chip and destroy it, even it takes blood and pain and unwillingness, but make this stop — it's more lewd than it should be, the statement suggesting more than just the cut for which Mello is waiting. It's desire that goes beyond that, a pull to get Setsuna to listen, and yes, to touch.]
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He's not even sure what gets him the most, the use of his name which Mello seemed so reluctant to do (too personal for him), the aggressiveness, the guidance of his hand to that scar and he can hardly believe Mello even let him touch it, and the unmistakable appeal of
I want you to hurt me
that he's having supreme difficulties suppressing, because he lied. ]
I'll hurt you.
[ Setsuna will lean closer, allow a familiar fleck of gold to circle his eyes, so close now that his breath, hot and heavy, dances along the younger man's cheeks and entices him. Setsuna is not a sexual creature, but he knows how to play the game, knows how to catch a target this way. And he's turning the volume up to about eleven here, because when he is sexual, he's infuriatingly so, teasing and denying his partner exactly what they want to entrap them. ]
But not like that.
[ So in summary, that's a yes to furious(ly awesome) sex, but a no to aforementioned brain surgery. You'll have to accept the compromise for what it is, because it's as good as you're going to get from him. No more negotiating, he's done with that and would like to get started on your mouth and everything else now. ]
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But no — no, he doesn't want to go back, because there's a chip that Setsuna will not cut out and there's breathing and hyper-awareness and Mello is hungry — hungry to take this further, to push some more, to close gaps and claim territory and mark.
There's anger too — a lot of it, but then again, could Mello enter into something like this without a healthy dose of rage? The how dare you deny me response to having his wish rejected only serves as further fuel for his arousal. His expression reflects this — some mixture of irritation and desire.]
If you're not going to do it my way
[And now the gun — Mello lets go of Setsuna's hand to pick it up, to press the barrel against Setsuna's chest, right above the left breastbone — the heart — and press, hard, leaning in so that they are almost lip-against-lip as he finishes his sentence.]
I'm going to fight back.
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The hunger is also present in Setsuna's features, a leanness and meanness shining in his unnatural eyes, boring into Mello's intently. Yes, push, close, claim, mark, stop thinking about this and just do it—
...oh.
Well, there we go.
The bottom of his mouth drops slightly, flashing a pointed grin, teeth clicking together, loud, snapsnap. ]
I'd welcome it.
[ And he really does, pressing himself into that barrel, his own knife slipping from its hiding place in its sleeve, into his palm and hand, which goes to Mello's throat. His control of the blade is so fine, so absolute, that Mello is in zero danger of a fatal slice, even if he lunges. The blade is finer than Mello's, sharper, more familiar, and therefore all the more fun. His other hand drifts to Mello's leather-clad thigh, massages ever so slightly, but goes no further. Take what you want, Mello. Fight for it. ]
And that's not going to kill me, for the record.
[ So do your worst, tiger. ]
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[Mello grins as he says it, as he feels the blade against his throat. His eyes meet Setsuna's as he pushes himself slowly into it, letting it pierce skin and draw a thin line of blood. This effectively closes the gap between his lips and Setsuna's — a fleeting kiss that is less about the meeting of their lips and more about the interaction between blade and throat. Mello wouldn't allow himself to be so tender without an ulterior motive. It's only a tease, a way to draw blood, before he pulls back just a little. He arches his neck so Setsuna can see.]
You've cut me after all.
[As for the gun...
Mello starts sliding it down Setsuna's body, from chest to stomach to groin. He cocks it.]
I bet it'd still hurt.
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[ Setsuna watches with a mildly sick (not morbid, there's a difference, it's not as bad, that's what he's telling himself) fascination as the blade finally cuts him and red drip, drip, drips down his neck. The tip of his tongue slips out to catch it and drag along the blood trail, up Mello's throat, before he can even stop himself, because he's high off the adrenaline here, the danger, the challenge, and there's no turning back now, Mello is right, haaa, that's good, and a not quite kiss is fine, too, he'll take what he can get.
Setsuna bucks his crotch up into the barrel daringly, and hello, he is definitely happy to see you now because even if he had a gun on him that's definitely not where he usually keeps it. ]
There, probably, but it'd be a mistake.
[ Can't please him nearly as well without it, after all, which is what he wants so badly to do. Just lose the attitude and the pride already and the clothes along with them, Mello, this is getting ridiculous. ]
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You'll have to do better than that.
[But his words betray him in that they are breathy and lighter than he wants them to be. There is a part of him that is already so far gone, and really, despite what he wants to believe, Mello is only holding threads.
He runs the barrel of the gun up and down along Setsuna's length.]
It doesn't feel like you really think it would be a mistake...
[Eyes down, collecting his breath, reassessing...]
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Setsuna exhales when he feels the gun and gaze upon him, curls his fingers into Mello's leg where they linger, and answers in dark tones that have no business coming out his mouth like this, but do anyway. Knife dancing around his nape, tracing a vital artery. One single, precise cut, and it's all over for him. ]
Then uncover the truth. You're good at it, aren't you?
[ Tilting his chin upward with the end of his blade, visible venom flitting through the circuitry surrounding his irises. ]
Because you'll have to do better than this.
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And then that statement — good at uncovering the truth? The surprise is easily and quickly replaced with an icy glare. Setsuna doesn't know the buttons he is pushing, how dangerously close he is to winding up on the wrong side of this situation.
Because like Setsuna, Mello doesn't lose. Being second-place is not enough, and has never been enough. He risks everything in the name of coming up on top and winning — and this will be no different. It will take more than a mere knife to make him submit, to get him to kowtow to Setsuna's whims. Mello is all-in, now. Say goodbye to any limits or holding back.
Stuck for the moment and staring at Setsuna with narrowed eyes, Mello just continues to ease the gun against him, calmly, down and then a nudge, and then up — and just when it seems like he's getting a rhythm, he jerks the gun up with the goal of hitting Setsuna in the head. And, whether or not it meets its target, Mello lunges with the intention of straddling and shoving Setsuna down, sword be damned. He has risked much, much worse before, a wayward blade is trivial, however deadly the hands holding it may be. He knows, too, that Setsuna is capable of overpowering him, which is why, if this is successful, he'll have to segue into his next move quickly.]
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Setsuna is glad being second place isn't enough. It's not enough for him, either, not in situations like this. He should realize that just because Setsuna may seem calm, reserved, and impossible to ruffle doesn't mean he actually is. He's simply accustomed to tailoring the nastier sides of his personality down. Mello lets it all hang out, so to speak. It's his style, and he won't judge him for it, but they differ in that sense.
Setsuna moves in time with the gun, up, down, up, down, a low purr slipping free, and then there's a jerk, a trigger, not in Mello's gun but in Setsuna's muscles. Mello's arm goes up along with him, an attempt at a strike that Setsuna catches with the hand not clutching his blade, a wrist seized firm in his grip, but Mello does successfully manage to force his way to the top, settle himself firmly on his hips. Setsuna grunts, pinned beneath Mello's weight, but they're evenly matched—he could break his arm if he so pleased in this position. Mello has escaped the knife, which now rests at Setsuna's side, but it could easily be retrieved at a moment's notice. Assuming Mello doesn't make a foolish attempt at swiping it. His blade, his hands, no one else's. Those are the rules. ]
Got you.
[ Straddling him might not have been the best of plans, as Setsuna proceeds to rub their crotches together, what's an obvious erection on his end against Mello's jeans. He's guessing he'll get smacked for that, too, but it'll be worth it. And he can take a beating, as Mello may have deduced already. ]
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Knowing that there's more to this Setsuna F. Seiei beneath what seems to be so calm a demeanor — so patient, talking about flowers and having faith in humanity — makes Mello want more.
He does not like being caught, though, and that much is apparent in his features. He still has the gun, but it is now effectively useless. Of course, Setsuna is strong — he knew that already — but jerks his arm anyway, tries to twist it free as much as is feasible.]
Not completely.
[It's hard to think with the way Setsuna is moving against him, and for a pause, Mello quells his struggling in favor of moving his own hips, arching himself a little, enjoying, and he himself is getting hard, any attempts at distracting rendered frivolous by this interaction. It's so rare that he gets to just feel, and so he lets it happen, taking a sharp breath —
and his free hand goes to Setsuna's throat, doesn't choke, but grips enough to be a threat.]
Let go.
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There is indeed more than meets the eye to Setsuna, a rage behind the tranquility, but Setsuna is not quite ready to give all his secrets away. Mello will have to delve deeper, uncover the truth, work for it if he wants it. Unfortunately for him, Setsuna's hold is steadfast, and does not relent, no matter how much Mello might writhe and squirm to make it happen. His arm is trapped until Setsuna deigns to let it go. ]
But enough.
[ There, much better, that friction is so good he'd kill to feel it again, and he tries to, but there Mello goes again, unpredictable firecracker, hand at his throat and squeezing. He can still breathe and move though, so... ]
Make me.
[ ...so he'll grab for that hand, yank it off, and direct it towards his own mouth instead, drawing a leather-wrapped finger inside, encircling it with his tongue and hummmmmming while he grinds into Mello's groin far more insistently than before. He'll bloody worship you, Mello, just say the word, but you've got to give at least a little first. Or he'll have to make you, and that's definitely a prospect he's not opposed to in the slightest. ]
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He forces himself to breathe steady, to try and come back into the moment. It's difficult, because all of this feels so good. But there's the challenge — make me — and he does want to win. He wants it so bad — wants all of this so bad that his desires start blending together, becoming more of an animalistic need, rather than a thought-out want.
And so his decision on how to make Setsuna release his arm is a combination of grit and desire, determination and arousal. Everything bleeds together as Mello takes his hand away from Setsuna's mouth and leans forward.
Mello kisses him.
A real kiss this time. It starts all lip, but before long, Mello urges his tongue inside to find Setsuna's. He kisses him in a way that Mello has kissed no one before — all intimacy and no bite, no threat, no feigned sweetness.
It's true — there is an ulterior motive. Mello wants to be released and he is trying to make Setsuna let go of his arm, trying to surprise him with uncharacteristic affection.
But the line blurs.]
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Mello's cracking. He knows it. Setsuna knows it. And were he the sort of person to bask in his victory, he'd shove it right in his pretty (scarred) face. But he isn't so he doesn't, instead welcoming whatever he's given, taking it in stride. As he does all things.
The kiss is not as surprising as Mello may thought it have been. Setsuna is caught a little off guard, yes, but again, he takes things in stride, takes Mello's constantly shifting temperament in stride, and so melts into that needy mouth while maintaining his grip. It may slip a bit, and Mello might be able to use this to his advantage, but Setsuna remains in control of the limb. It's his to do with as he pleases and Mello will need to do better than this to free it.
As incentive for him to continue along a more intimate path, however, Setsuna will sneak a hand between Mello's legs to cup his cock through the tight pants, massage rough and hard, half to distract from possible retaliation, half to tease into oblivion. The line is blurring, it is most certainly blurring, but Setsuna could care less as he fucks the other man's mouth with his tongue as easily (and as willingly) as he'd fuck his ass. ]
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But Mello still refuses to lose. Maybe Setsuna has claimed this battle as his own, but there is still a war between them, and Mello is going to come out on top. He pulls back from kissing, staring at Setsuna hungrily, grinding his hips against his hand. For now, he makes no attempt to try and release his arm.
And then, without any hint as to his next intention, Mello reaches with his free hand and grabs Setsuna's blade.
Mello has a hunch that this is a taboo move. If someone were to grab his gun, he'd be furious — and it is possible that Setsuna will feel the same way. Mello hopes he does — hopes to see a little more of that darkness that Setsuna keeps hidden. He grins, bringing it up to Setsuna's neck, leering down at him.]
Look what I have.
[And then he's dragging it along Setsuna's throat, pushing the point into his chin like Setsuna did to him earlier, drawing a small bead of blood as he does so. Then he holds it against Setsuna's jugular, leaning forward into him once more.]
Too bad you didn't let me go.
[Because now Setsuna's weapon is in his hand, and he's going to use it as he pleases.]
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Not that he's any of those things now, tongue dueling furiously with Mello's, arcing into the nails pressing into his scalp and encouraging them to bite deeper, because pain is something he likes, something he needs in these sorts of interactions, and Mello needs to hurt him more, it's what people like them deserve, after all, it's only fair.
Setsuna chases after those lips once they escape, because good hunters never let their prey go, pin it and ravage it until it no longer draws breath, but Mello reignites the spark of conflict and it's war all over again.
And then Mello snatches his blade, his, no one else's, and everything goes downhill from there.
His pupils dilate, black to blot out the gold, and he hisses sharply. No, Mello. His self-control snaps, Mello's arm is snapped accordingly (he's not sure if he's broken bone, doesn't think so, but also doesn't care), and even if he winds up nicking himself in the process, he lunges forward with a bite to seize Mello's wrist between his jaws, the wrist has his blade his to sink his teeth into and force a drop.
Drop it, Mello. Now. This is playing nice, and he's not going to warn you a second time. ]
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That is not to say that it isn't frighting, seeing such a drastic shift, being stuck in the jaws of an awakened beast. And as Setsuna lunges, unmindful of the blade, Mello's eyes widen. It had been so sudden, so quick, that even though he achieved his goal, he couldn't prepare for that rush of a reaction.
This dangerous, so dangerous, and Mello knows it, but Mello has always been one to flirt with danger, to push it beyond normal limits — to see just how far.
So he smiles, despite pain of those teeth around his wrist, and does not release the blade. He meets that dark stare, that other side of Setsuna, without any hesitation.
The threat is there. Setsuna doesn't need to say it, to give that order verbally.
So Mello answers, says words that Setsuna said to him just earlier.]
Make me.
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And you're going to give it back to him, Mello. Or else you'll see who he once was, what he once was and still is beneath the pacifism and understanding and not quite love, a tiger with fangs and claws and a ferocity that could've torn his whole world apart, but united it instead. A one man army who used his powers for good, but who could've been turned towards unspeakable evil.
You're going to give his blade back to him, Mello, or else.
With every second Mello refuses to return his property, the teeth sink in deeper, more painfully, and that is definitely going to mark, no question about that. Skin breaks open and there's red dripping down his mouth and if Mello continues basking in obstinance and being an obnoxious brat, he'll lose his wrist, or at least function of it. And there's something he hisses, something faint, in a foreign tongue, but from the sheer acidity in his tone, it is nothing pleasant. ]
Kalb.
[ Arabic. The lowliest of dogs. And only a dog, a street rat, would swipe what doesn't belong to it, greedy, filthy animal that it is. ]
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So much for like.
[He says it through clenched teeth before opening his hand and letting the blade drop.
Mello has seen you, Setsuna, but you have also seen him. The words dog or street rat are not far off. Mello left Wammy's at fifteen — no help and no resources. No one to hold his hand when he shut that gate behind him and left any fraction of a support system that he would ever have behind him for good. No one just makes it out on their own after living such a sheltered life — not unless they are willing to make ugly sacrifices. Sure, Mello climbed to the top of the mafia and everyone was so impressed with their new, young boss — but no one just happens to get into the mafia. Even if it were L, he'd have to do things to gain trust, to prove loyalty. Being gifted means everything at Wammy's, but it holds no weight in the real world.
And it all just spiraled from there.
Mello likes to think of himself as a good person despite what he has done. He has morals, sure, but they allow for this one grand loop hole that is the chase for Kira and everything he has done in its name.
But the truth is —
stealing is the least of Mello's sins.]
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Setsuna watches the knife drop, is pleased, and immediately lets go in return. But he's staring at Mello, now boring into him with inhuman eyes, thin pins for pupils, and a perfect return to his neutral expression from earlier save for the blood dripping down his lips. ]
I'm disgusting.
[ A curiously sudden statement to make, and though his gaze is intimidating, insistent, his words are softer, less barbed than that alien insult, almost like an apology for it. He makes no effort to wipe the blood away but he will lean forward, face-to-face and nose-to-nose with Mello again, and this time, he's as blunt as blunt can be, crystal clear in his intentions. ]
I want you. Lie back.
[ He's pushing, prodding insistently before Mello can even answer, because he wants he wants he wants, trying to guide him into place and spread his legs and fuck if he cares anymore, that snap of rage had sapped any reason or remaining self-restraint he had. ]
Let me touch you.
[ And solely because he's desperate: ]
Please.
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You're not disgusting.
[The words aren't tender. They aren't meant to be a reassurance. Instead, they're harsh — offended. Mello had wanted to see that. He forced that side of Setsuna out. None of it was disgusting, not the reaction and not the way his blood drips from Setsuna's lips.
Mello lets Setsuna push him down and spread his legs. As far as he is concerned, he has already won the game, so there is no point in fighting any further battles. All that has led up to this has been a twisted kind of foreplay — and he wants it. He's wanted it since the beginning — the chip is forgotten. There's only this. Them.
But Mello does glare as Setsuna adds that last word on.]
Don't beg. Take.
[They are beyond permission now.
And to solidify the point — to drive home taking — Mello pulls Setsuna the rest of the way and kisses him once more, only this time it's without an ulterior motive — there will be no more attacks — and Mello can taste his own blood.]
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