calderamemes | TDM #5

Entry tags:

!mod post,
!tdm

TDM #5

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

FLAMEFRUIT SANGRIA a deep red wine based punch with chunks of softly glowing fruit floating in it. A single serving makes you feel relaxed, social, and maybe even a little flirty.

MOLTEN MEAD Though the thick drink itself is room temperature, it bubbles sluggishly, and feels very warm going down. The bold flavor affects your mood. You feel very bold! Like you could do anything!

BESALT BRANDY a hopefully staple drink for the brewery, this liquor is smooth and rich with a peppery bite. Ironically after consuming it, you kinda want to bite someone! Not hard! Just a little nip and nibble!

THAT ASHY ESPRESSO a single potent shot of dark espresso swirled with a gold-tinged cream. Intense and bitter with a hint of caramelized sugar. You are now very awake, hyper, and excited.

PYROCLAST'S WHISKEYa glossy black whiskey that turns a vibrant glowing orange when swirled. You now breathe fire.

EMBERMARK WINE a rich, velvety, spiced wine that immediately makes one feel mellow and calm.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

IGNACIA'S CRADLE/EMBER VEIL

Months ago, a piece of land from Heaven’s Bow fell from the sky and scarred the land below, damaging a part of the city. From that chaos and ruin rose new life, a new ruler, and a new city: Ignacia’s Cradle. Just a short walk from the edge of Grey Ward, the gates of the city are guarded by two massive obsidian golems, and any who did not rise from the lava itself are warned at the entrance that to travel about the city will be most difficult, unless they have obtained a way to mitigate the extreme heat: be that with a charm, an ability, or a potion. The very streets themselves are paved in slabs of volcanic rock, tall spires of buildings constructed and shaped by rapidly cooled lava. The main method of travel are the mine carts, with tracks that wind through the spires ready to take one to almost any location.

Currently, the main feature of Ignacia’s Cradle is the Lava Flats, home of skilled smiths that use the extreme heat of the lava to melt the strongest metals and create unbreakable weapons, glassmakers and jewelers who fashion elaborate headpieces, rings, and amulets. These items are sold at the Ember Market on the outskirts of the Flats.

At the edge of the city lies the Ashfall Terrace, where a small farm using the rich volcanic ash and soil is in its infancy, as well as the Basalt Brewery where clever alchemists are researching ways to use the extreme heat to craft new and unique beverages that they are eager to find folk to test them out on.

The hot spring of Ignacia’s Cradle is a breathtaking anomaly located just beyond the Ashfall Terrace, tucked into a secluded crater formed by the celestial impact that gave rise to the city. Here, molten veins from the Lava Flats weave beneath the earth, heating a natural reservoir that bubbled to life amidst the chaos. The spring’s waters shimmer with an ethereal brilliance, hues of deep turquoise blending with molten gold and fiery orange, as though Heaven’s Bow itself left behind a fragment of its essence. Steam rises in curling wisps, carrying the tang of minerals and faint traces of sulfur.

The spring, known to locals as The Ember Veil, is both a sanctuary and a marvel of natural wonder. Its soothing waters are reputed to heal wounds and fortify the spirit, with the temperature kept in perfect balance by an intricate system of naturally formed vents and channels. The edges are lined with intricately carved obsidian benches, where patrons can soak their feet or meditate in the rising steam. Plants resistant to the intense conditions—vivid fire lilies and ash ferns—dot the perimeter, their resilience a symbol of life’s ability to flourish even in the harshest environments.

Sometimes, when two or more individuals share the waters, the spring creates a subtle connection between their minds, allowing memories to surface like ripples on its surface. These shared memories appear as glowing, translucent scenes that hover above the water, visible to all within the spring. Participants can relive moments from their lives, experiencing them through each other’s eyes, fostering profound empathy and understanding.

Another of the spring’s mystical properties occurs when bathers who enter the waters feeling drained, injured, or burdened by grief often find their vitality restored. The waters seem to draw out negative energies and emotions, replacing them with a warm, invigorating sensation that spreads through the body. In rare instances, the spring has been known to accelerate physical healing, mending minor injuries and soothing chronic aches, as though the magic itself is stitching the body back together.

A lesser-known but equally fascinating effect happens on particularly clear nights, when the moonlight reflects on the spring’s surface, some bathers report fleeting glimpses of potential futures. These visions are often cryptic, appearing as brief, dream-like flashes, but they have guided many to life-changing decisions. The alchemists of the Basalt Brewery believe this effect stems from residual cosmic energy, and they have begun experimenting with enhancing it through the addition of rare minerals and lunar elixirs.

RADIANT SUN

The day begins like no other, with the skies painted in hues of golden-pink as the Radiant Sun ascends. Its light spills over the world, warm and soft, caressing the land and filling every heart with a sense of peace. Beneath its glow, emotions of love and connection bloom like never before. Strangers exchange heartfelt smiles, old friends embrace as though no time has passed, and lovers find their feelings deepened, their bonds strengthened.

Even the air feels different—lighter, sweeter, as though the universe itself is celebrating. The songs of birds harmonize with the melodies of impromptu musicians who feel inspired by the sun’s radiance. Those with magical abilities sense their powers of healing and creation magnified, as if the sun itself lends its strength to their intentions. Long-held grudges seem to melt away under the sun’s tender gaze, replaced by tears of reconciliation and words of forgiveness.

The Radiant Sun touches every heart differently:

◾A widow finds peace as memories of her late spouse no longer bring sorrow but gratitude for the love they shared.
◾A timid youth finds the courage to confess their feelings to the person they’ve admired for so long.
◾A gruff warrior lets down their guard, laughing freely with their companions for the first time in years.

For a fleeting moment, the world feels as it should be—unified, harmonious, and drenched in love.

But as the day wanes and the Radiant Sun dips below the horizon, an unease begins to settle...

JEALOUS MOON

The golden light gives way to deep purples and silvers as the Jealous Moon rises, its glow pale and cold. Its light pierces the heart, not to warm it, but to expose the insecurities that lie buried within. Where love had flourished during the day, doubt begins to creep in.

Under the Jealous Moon’s influence, emotions twist and darken:

◾A once-reconciled pair of siblings argue over old grievances, as jealousy over perceived favoritism resurfaces.
◾A couple, who had spent the day lost in each other’s arms, now question each other’s loyalty and intentions.
◾A nobleman, inspired to be generous during the day, grows suspicious of those who received his gifts, fearing they may exploit his kindness.

The air grows heavy with tension, and the magic of the Radiant Sun fades, replaced by the sharp sting of distrust. The moon’s pale light seems to follow people like a judgmental gaze, amplifying every fear, insecurity, and lingering resentment.

Worse still, the night seems endless, as though time itself has bent beneath the weight of the Jealous Moon’s envious glow. For three long days and nights, the moon lingers high in the sky, its pale, piercing light casting a shadow over hearts and minds, amplifying discord and despair. Its power sows strife among even the closest bonds, driving some to dangerous extremes. Yet, when all seems lost, the scholars of the three factions unite their wisdom and uncover a glimmer of hope—a means to dispel the moon’s cruel influence. For those who have not yet succumbed to jealousy’s grip, there remains a chance to reclaim harmony, a chance for redemption before the damage becomes irreversible.

The solution lies not in complex rituals or rare relics but in the simplest and most instinctive actions: physical connection. To weaken the moon’s hold, people must embrace one another—offering a hug, a handshake, or even resting a hand on someone’s shoulder. These gestures of closeness disrupt the isolation and mistrust that the moon thrives upon. Sitting side by side or holding hands creates a barrier against its oppressive light, reminding the afflicted that they are not alone. Even small acts, like sharing warmth through proximity or clasping arms in solidarity, build a shield of connection that the moon cannot penetrate.

As these actions ripple through the night, the Jealous Moon’s light begins to dim, its sharp, cold glow softening until it fades from the sky entirely. The tension in the air lifts, replaced by a quiet calm that feels almost foreign after the chaos of the past three days. Slowly, the world seems to exhale, and the darkness that clung so tightly to the hearts of many begins to loosen its grip. People step back from the brink of despair, their minds clearing as if waking from a long, disorienting dream. Relationships strained by the moon’s influence begin to mend as apologies are exchanged, tears are shed, and bonds are reaffirmed.

ALL IS WELL(?)

With the Radiant Sun rising again, its golden-pink hues spilling across the horizon, life begins to return to normal. The birds resume their morning songs, markets reopen, and the hum of daily activity fills the air once more. Though traces of the moon’s influence linger in whispered memories, there is a collective sense of relief and gratitude among the people—gratitude for the light, for connection, and for a second chance to heal.

In the outskirts of Ignacia's Cradle, Aella and Terra, two of the three leaders of the factions, come together to address the gathered crowds. Together they assure the people that this celestial event was a rare anomaly, something never before recorded in the annals of history. They explain that while the Jealous Moon’s influence was unprecedented and deeply unsettling, it was a unique alignment of cosmic forces that is unlikely to occur again in their lifetimes—or ever.

The leaders thank the people for their resilience and compassion, emphasizing how their acts of unity—simple gestures of closeness and connection—proved stronger than the moon’s envy. They commend the scholars for their quick thinking and the Visitors for their role in guiding others through the chaos. Finally, they urge everyone to move forward, not in fear of what has passed, but with the knowledge that even in the darkest moments, their strength lies in the bonds they share.

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

*February will be the last month to complete quests for this rotation. New ones will go up on March 1st.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's fifth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

All locations are available to be explored! Ignacia's Cradle and Ember Veil have been added, along with details about the Violet Drop regarding the Cult of Triton.

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

Participation in the Radiant Sun/Jealous Moon effects is not mandatory.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Barcus chuckles, almost a giggle, but he's quite flushed now, subtly excited. There's probably a joke of some sort that could be made about luring a drow into his bed, but at this point he's not a drow, he's Bel. It doesn't seem worth making the observation, and that's kind of beautiful.

"I always forget that elves don't sleep," he admits, mildly sheepish. "But I don't mind as long as you don't. It's...nice, not to sleep alone. Just knowing someone's there to...well, not watch over me, exactly but--you know what I mean." Feeling one's own inherent vulnerability and smallness is just a fact of being a deep gnome.

He leads the way through the portal into Grey Ward, and immediately turns to the left, taking a shortcut through the alleys toward their shared home. When they come within view of the house, they can see Satchel sleeping peacefully in the window of Barcus' workshop, where she prefers to rest in nice weather.

Drow weren't allowed to be vulnerable. It was an invitation to the cruel, or people who thought you might be cruel and needed to strike first, or just people feeling impotent and trying to hurt someone below them. Which is why it appealed to Bel: knowing he was safe to be affectionate, or sleep in the arms of a lover.

He was having complicated but pleasant feelings about seeing the house. It wasn't just about anticipation regarding sex (thought this was the first time in a long while he had the sense of knowing someone well before asking them to his bed). It was mostly Barcus's house, but he'd been adding things for himself, enough that it was starting to feel like his home as well.

"Satchel will probably wake up as soon as she hears the door open," Bel noted, with the exasperated affection of someone who has been claimed by a cat. (Satchel nominally might be Barcus's cat, but she seemed to have decided Bel was an acceptable backup humanoid.)

It's their house now, as far as Barcus is concerned. He made that commitment when he invited Bel to stay with him in the first place, and it feels right, now. As much as he loves Ashton, thrives on their visits, it wouldn't be right to separate them from their friends--but he doesn't really want to be alone, either. He's been alone for too long.

He laughs softly. "She will. She'll come right for us as usual, but I think if I feed her she'll take the hint."

One good thing about a fluff-brained cat, they're easy to distract.

True to form, her ears perk at the sound of the doorknob turning, and she runs to meet them. Barcus gives Bel an apologetic look and vanishes into the kitchen for a moment to pour a few treats in a bowl for her. But once that's done, he re-emerges and makes a beeline for the drow, putting both arms around his waist. "Now I'm all yours."

Barcus having to make sure Satchel is distracted does mean that Bel has considered matters and decided he can wait the few seconds it takes to walk towards Barcus's bedroom. Feeling Barcus's arms around his waist, and hearing those words does cause Bel's pulse to pick up. "I'd say those are dangerous words, except, at the moment, I'm also all yours."

Well, that and while 'I am going to get laid' is a thought in Bel's head, most of the rest are along the lines of 'where does Barcus like to be touched' and 'I wonder what he sounds like in the throes of passion'. He bends to kiss Barcus's forehead while walking them towards the bedroom door.

Now that they're in private, Barcus is more comfortably handsy than he was in the tavern. Their height difference is significant, two feet of clearance between Barcus' head and Bel's, and he has to reach up to hold him around the waist. This is the opposite of a problem as far as the gnome is concerned, and he tilts his head back to rest his chin against Bel's stomach, looking up at him with hazy, darkened eyes, which flutter closed at that kiss.

There's a feeling of want, but also, strangely, comfort and security.

He follows along easily enough, letting go only to shove his door open. "Are they dangerous, though? I think you're the sort of man who handles his lovers well." Even if they're one-night-stands, which this isn't.

"Not to be too presumptuous, but do you prefer to top or...?" His hands slide down to strokes the drow's hips. "I'm comfortable with either, though the size difference between us means some, mm, care and preparation is important."

"I do try," Bel grinned. "Haven't heard complaints. Though at the moment I'm enjoying how you're handling me." Between the way Barcus is looking at him, and the feel of his hands, even through several layers of cloth, Bel is feeling his own ability to plan peter out into enjoying the sensations of now.

It would be slightly better if his hands could touch more than Barcus's head and shoulders. Now that the door was open, Bel was making a beeline for the bed -- sitting down would do something about their current height difference.

"I'm also comfortable with either," Bel answered. "But, I assumed you would be topping." Because, frankly, while Bel knew there was some level of size difference where no among of care and preparation would work, he hadn't known on what side of that line Barcus fell. Considering it more fully, now that Barcus had offered -- and while Bel wasn't sure if the flush he felt would be visible, the way it was hard for him to keep his eyes from Barcus was probably a giveaway that he was considering the options -- "I'd rather get more comfortable with your body before trying things the other way. I am a quick study when it's a pleasant topic, though."

Though at this point, Bel wasn't feeling particularly exacting; he would be equally pleased to stick to hands, or mouths, or almost anything else.

Barcus follows him to the bed boldly, pausing only to shed his boots and socks, because it's rude to put your shoes on the bed. Even your own bed. He pushes the door mostly-closed behind him, only for the sake of keeping Satchel at bay.

"We can...experiment a little, then," he smiles at him, and the way he crosses the room to the bed isn't exactly sultry, but it is reasonably confident, and he gives the drow a little push to encourage him to sit, or lie down. "I'll see if I can be spontaneous."

Once he is down, Barcus wastes no time joining him, climbing into his lap and settling with one knee on either side of his hips. And then, for all his playful demeanor, he looks up at Bel with eyes practically shining with warmth and affection. Taking his hands, he kisses the backs of his knuckles, right then left. "You're beautiful. You know that?"

Bel had kicked off his own shoes, and let Barcus nudge him onto the bed, since it was what he wanted to do anyway. Especially with Barcus now straddling his lap, holding his hands.

The compliment caused him to smile; look, Bel knew that drow generally were considered good-looking by others. "Would you believe me if, right now, I said I found you equally good-looking?" It was something about how Barcus moved, how he took up space when he wanted to, and how he was looking at Be, particularly right now.

Body language is at the root of attraction for a lot of people. Barcus himself would say it's that, and personality, that draw him to a person, far more than looks. Credit where it's due, though: Bel is beautiful. The bone structure that tends to be more angular and pointy in a gnome is sleeker in his face. Cheekbones that, while angular, have a little bit of a softer curve to them. A fine jawline. Eyes so dark they're almost more brown than red.

"I mean...this is more about who you are than what you look like," he amends. "I feel safer with you than with nearly anyone I've known." Counterintuitive. Weird. Wonderful.

The compliment makes him blush, but he grins in response and lets go of his hands in favor of putting them around his shoulders. "I believe you mean it. Might be the brandy talking, but I believe you. C'mere..." He tugs him gently into a kiss, slow and soft for the moment. However long the moment lasts before they start getting impatient again...

If anything, Barcus telling Bel that he felt safe with him caused Bel to smile even more. Because Bel knew that he had not been starting from a neutral position there. Because growing up, Bel hadn't seen many examples of the difference between 'safe' and 'incapable of harming you' (with the latter equated to weakness), so he'd had to figure it out.

Bel was going to respond, but Barcus's pull made kissing the other man far more urgent. At first, he just focused on the kiss itself: the sensations of Barcus's mouth on his, the lingering taste of the brandy, and their close position and the privacy meaning Bel can actually enjoy having Barcus's body held against his own. A sigh of contentment actually escaped his lips in between breaths.

Bel had started just wrapping his arms around Barcus's waist, but it was difficult to keep them still. He let one slide down Barcus's body a bit, not exactly grabbing but definitely resting on ass. (Should he used a more refined word? He couldn't think of one.) He was still going what he'd consider slow and focused on how Barcus responded, as if the path towards sex was full of hazards that might snare an unwary hand. Call it the learned caution of a man unused to getting what he actually most wanted, and was still having trouble believing it could be this easy.

Barcus presses against him, not quite grinding his hips but definitely making sure they can each feel the warmth of the other's body through the clothing they still have on. When they meet in that kiss, he can feel the smile on Bel's lips, lingering from the moment before. There's a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, as if that joy was being passed back and forth between them in the kiss they share.

The gnome lets his hands wander, running through Bel's hair for a little, then moving to trace over his shoulders, his collar, the edge of his clothes. It's half petting, half strategically searching for buttons or other fastenings. A rogue, Barcus is not, but he's dexterous enough to undo Bel's shirtlaces and slip his hand beneath fabric to stroke down the center of his chest.

When the drow's hands find his ass, which is small to match the rest of him and yet a surprisingly cushy handful to touch, Barcus makes a low gasp, then a giggle and a faint moan. He breaks the kiss then to pay attention to Bel's throat, placing open-mouthed kisses down the front. "I hate the thought that I'll have to leave your lap for us to get undressed..."

Bel can feel what Barcus is doing, and still the first feel of Barcus's hand on the skin of Bel's chest draws a gasp and a sigh. Call it the rush of letting down a guard after spending long periods where he was even sleeping in his leather armor, or just the sensation of skin on skin. It was also bringing the urgency back into his motions because he wanted to do the same.

Though he did stop to give a delighted laugh slightly at the sounds Barcus made, and then add, "I think I can manage your shirt from here, if you can bear to take your hands and lips off me for a moment. Or I can go first and move so you can get my shirt off."

Not that Bel wasn't already adjusting his own posture so Barcus could better kiss him, because gods, that felt good. Not the worst dilemma to have -- continue this, or actually undress and have more places to kiss and touch. Bel tried to refocus, to remember what Barcus had been wearing, and see if he could figure out how to loosen fastenings without looking -- why not split the difference and see if he could at least get things most of the way off before Barcus needed to slightly disentangle himself.

Oh...! Barcus recognizes that little gasp for what it is, the sound of a man hungry for touch he can trust. Takes one to know one; for all that the gnome has spent plenty of time in someone else's arms since coming to Caldera, he still carries the aches and scars from long periods of time alone. Small wonder if Bel is the same.

Well, they'll have to remedy that now, won't they?

Barcus makes a low, needy sound and bites the side of the drow's neck, but then he relents and sits back a little, nodding his agreement. Undressing is going to take cooperation from them both, after all. Having had some success with Bel's shirtlaces already, Barcus unbuckles his own belt and discards it, then stretches his arms up obligingly to let his tunic be pulled over his head.

Caldera has been a breath of fresh air for Bel as well. Even before indicating his interest in Barcus, Bel had never stayed in one place long enough since coming to the surface to get to know and trust people, and Lolthite culture fostered distrust.

A part of him -- the part that is reacting to what Barcus is doing with audible appreciation -- might be content with just focusing on the parts left uncovered with clothing, but the feeling lower down reminded Bel that he will want to be undressed soon, and that the rest of him will want a lover's focus. And that while it is hard for him to maneuver his head when Barcus is kissing his neck, his hands can find what parts of Barcus he wants to touch, which means getting the gnome's shirt off.

Bel tugged Barcus's shirt off, and paused for a moment to enjoy the view. Resting a hand on the gnome's chest, over the heart, he adds, "Much as I'd like to explore, it's only polite to ask if you'd rather help me with my shirt now or give me a moment." Some people were less comfortable if their lover was more clothed than they were; some people didn't care.

It also hadn't escaped Bel that Barcus had also removed his belt, and that was definitely being incorporated into his plans. Yes, probably difficult to get Barcus's trousers off without him getting off Bel's lap, but Bel is willing to give it a try.

Typical of deep gnomes, Barcus doesn't have much in the way of body hair, skin mostly sleek and smooth all the way down to his belly. Scars are few and far between on him, too, except that on his lower back, low on the left side, there are six parallel marks deep enough to be felt with Bel's fingertips. The gnome is slender; the majority of any muscle he has is in the cords of his forearms from tinkering, and his chest and upper back, from working at the forge.

Some part of Barcus seems to melt at the touch, the hand on his heart. Sex is all well and good--very good, in fact--but that little taste of tenderness is better.

"Only polite," he echoes with a soft laugh. As if politeness was a matter of primary concern at this point. Still, he wastes no time applying his attention to Bel's request. Those sensitive, artificer's hands make short work of unlacing the drow's shirt, undoing the cuffs of his sleeves, and easing it off of him.

And the trousers really do have to go, but Barcus has to take a moment to touch and hold Bel closer first, skin against skin, dazzled by the look and feel and scent of him.

It is surprisingly difficult to let Barcus work, rather than to ask him to let his amazing hands linger on Bel. But it is worth it for the moment when he can embrace Barcus, and feel bare skin against his own. Most elves don't have much in the way of body hair either, and the feel reminds Bel that at some point, he'd started thinking of human bodies as 'normal' and his own relative hairlessness as an exception. Obviously the size difference was still there, but holding Barcus close felt familiar in a way he hadn't quite expected.

Bel's hands were already on Barcus's bare back, feeling the muscle there from forge work. He craned his neck to the side and down, trying to kiss the place where Barcus's ear joined the line of his neck, with a soft, "Tell me how this feels, dear."

Bel's hands, were reaching lower, exploring the scars -- not that Bel hadn't his own, mostly the sort that come from armor and reflexes that weren't quite good enough, and healing more for patching things up than ensuring it looks and feels good as new. Of course he wants the story, but not at the moment. They are just one more part of Barcus to learn.

The waistband fo Barcus's trousers also merits an examination. Enough to know that Bel is going to wait until Barcus is ready and pulls back a bit to start working him out of his trousers and undergarments, but Bel's fingers can still take pleasure in slipping under the fabric, tugging it down to get more skin to touch. Another pause in kissing. "You feel wonderful to me."

It does feel familiar. Smooth skin, the colors of stone: slate, granite, obsidian. Barcus finds himself watching his own hands sliding across Bel's shoulders and down his back, a visual echo of every tryst he's had with another deep gnome. It's a shame that they couldn't have this so easily in Faerun. There is a kind of kinship to be found between the peoples of the Underdark--or there would be, if they weren't all so cruel to one another.

Any philosophical musings he might have voiced are gone in the blink of an eye when Bel kisses him just below his ear. That happens to be one of the top two or three most sensitive spots on Barcus' body, and he gasps, taking in a deep, shaky breath as his head rolls to one side, instinctively encouraging that kiss. More, please...

For a moment he's lost, hands kneading distractedly at Bel's shoulders, but finally he manages to get words out: "Perfect. You feel..." 'Like coming home' isn't particularly sexy and begs a lot of questions, but it wouldn't be inaccurate. "You feel like I've been missing you for years, and never knew it until now."

Oh, that? That is a good so Bel is going to keep at it for a bit, wiht more kisses, and a nibble on Barcus's earlobe, to shed the lingering effects of the brandy. Not only does Bel consider part of the point of 'sex with another person' to make sure everyone has a good time, but Barcus deserves intimacy and passion and companionship and all of those things.

"Yes. I... I didn't know how much I needed this. Needed you." He might not have figured out what was missing until he had a chance to stop and feel settled and... well, safe.

"My darling Barcus, would you be willing to move a bit so we can shed my trousers?" Because Bel is starting to be very aware that while part of him is satisfied by the kisses and Barcus's hands on his shoulders and backs, other parts are feeling very neglected. And... well, while Bel thinks he could get Barcus's trousers down without either of them moving, Bel wants to be the first one naked. He can't explain why. Maybe just a reminder how safe he is here.

The nibbling is gentle, almost ticklish, but it makes Barcus feel more like clinging and demanding more than like giggling and backing away. His urge to bite isn't completely gone, either, but there's something soothing about how it feels to just be close to him.

He makes a faint, hiccupping gasp as Bel's next words. Barcus has always been, and will always be, weak for romance and connection, and needed you is an utterly compelling phrase. He would do anything for Bel in this moment.

So it's good that what the drow asks of him is very much in line with what Barcus wants, too. There are a few seconds before he answers, during which he gives him a flurry of kisses all along his collarbone and the front of his throat, but then he makes an mm noise and detaches himself from his lap, shifting over to kneel on the mattress beside him, instead. "I would hate for you to be uncomfortable," he says belatedly, trying to keep up with the banter, but watching with hungry eyes.

Normally Bel might just quickly strip and get back to what he was doing, but the way Barcus is looking at him means he wants to give his lover a bit of a show. (If he'd realized this was how he'd be spending his night, he would have worn something fancier as undergarments, but hopefully there will be other nights.)

So Bel stands up, facing Barcus. He undoes his belt, loosens his trousers, then eases them down his legs. He'd already taken off his shoes before getting on the bed. He does set his pants aside before doing the same with his undergarments, making it clear that Bel is already erect after all of this. Still, he does offer a wry grin as he turns so Barcus can also see his bare ass.

(It should be noted that Bel is still wearing the medallion that Barcus has made him that winter, as well as a sea-glass necklace from Finnick. At this point, it's all he's wearing.)

He does sit down after that in the same position. "Much better. What do you think?"

If Barcus has anything to say about it there will be many other nights. There is a sweetness to this, even though they've had questionable liquor and are running on impulse. Bel is clearly an experienced lover, but also a terribly conscientious one.

And if the gnome squirms slightly at the sight of him fully nude, well, it's a shiver of excitement and bright-burning lust. He couldn't take his eyes off him to save his life, not now, and while his gaze lingers on his lower body, the visible signal of his arousal, it also trails upwards to rest on the two necklaces resting against his sternum. His gift is not just kept, evidently, but treasured.

"I...I think I'm overdressed," he manages to get out, and slides off the bed to discard his own trousers and underwear, with less grace than Bel, and a bit more anxious haste. When he returns to the bed, he wastes no time reaching for him again, sliding his hands down his sides to his hips, to his thighs. "You can tell me what you like, as we go on," he says, eyes flitting from Bel's face to his cock and back.

He leans in and nuzzles gently against his belly, warm breath almost teasing. "...may I?"

Bel is taking the opportunity to watch Barcus. While Bel admits he is a bit of a showman, there is a lot to be said for sincere eagerness. Barcus isn't messing around with getting undressed, because clearly he wants what's next as much as Bel does.

As soon as Barcus is back into arm's reach, Bel is moving his own hands to touch whatever bare skin he can reach. The feel of Barcus's breath against his stomach causes his heart to jump, among other sensations. "Gods, yes. Tell me if you need me to change position. I'm in your capable hands, for now. Or other parts."

Bel might be experienced in general, but Barcus had more experience with this particular size difference (even if it was a grand total of one other person). And he did intend to make sure both of them were equally satisfied.

Barcus has a mixed opinion regarding his own appeal, as well. In front of a statuesque, youthful drow, he might feel a little out of his league. He's not about to let that stop him, though, especially when Bel has so clearly been showing off for him. For him.

The size difference between them is slightly less than between Barcus and Ashton. It's a matter of only a few inches in height, between Bel and the genasi, but it's enough to make Barcus feel quite confident in his ability to take whatever Bel can dish out. It's still perfectly reasonable to start slow, though; this is about affection, not a physical challenge.

He grasps him, gently but firmly, giving him a few easy, slow strokes while watching his face. The gnome wears a tender, soft smile for the moment, captivated by the intimacy and wanting to be sure Bel feels it, too. At last, though, he ducks his head and places open-mouthed kisses along the aching path his hand has been caressing, before taking him into his mouth.

He's long since lost the urge to bite, fortunately. This is better. His eyes drift closed; he looks as peaceful and content as he ever has, just giving him this pleasure.

Barcus's first touch gets the expected rush of pleasure, but also of relief: Barcus had observed the very physical sign of Bel's need for him, and was addressing it. Bel knows that this is showing on his face because he sees no reason to hide how he's feeling; quite the opposite, since he wants Barcus to know how good he feels.

Gods, he has amazing hands. Which made sense for an artificer to have such exquisite control. "That feels wonderful, Barcus." Bel is smiling back, and was just about to suggest that Barcus shift in position so Bel could reciprocate when Barcus ducks his head and...

Bel gasps and a low moan escapes his lips. Right, change of plans. He'll be reciprocating later. In the mean time, he's making sure his legs are not in Barcus's way and his hands reach for the back of Barcus's head. Normally he'd be running his fingers through a lover's hair; he hopes that the massaging gestures feels good and not weird, because his hands need to be doing something for Barcus right now. "That's... yes, keep going."

Feeling Barcus take him in his mouth gets more approving sounds. Barcus's contented face strikes Bel as looking as if he could fall asleep in that position, which is an odd mental picture to have during sex. "Didn't think my cock was that soothing." He just blurted out because what even is a filter? Certainly not needed at the moment.

Judging from the approving hum the gnome gives, stroking his head feels good. He keeps one hand wrapped around the shaft of Bel's cock; the other rests on his stomach, where his thumb moves in idle circles. The heat and weight on his tongue is arousing; the bittersweet taste even more so. Once again, though, it feels as though there is something familiar here, like the familiarity of smooth, dusky skin. The scent and flavor of the Underdark, maybe, running through both their bodies.

He makes a little chuckling noise at the commentary and draws off of him with a soft, wet pop to speak. "I like it," he says, breathless. "I like doing things for people. Makes me feel..."

He licks his lips, searching for words. "Like I'm a part of you. For a little while."

Fortunately for Bel, that seems to be all the explanation Barcus can come up with for now, and he's eager to go back to what he was doing, taking as much of him as he can and sucking expertly. Bodies are a lot like machines, after all. Leave it to an artificer to learn how to make them sing.

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finally finding my way back to this thread orz

Re: finally finding my way back to this thread orz

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