xistentia | o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

Entry tags:

o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

Characters: Janus Lefevre & you
Summary: Closed and open threads for Janus, which I'm starting now ALTHOUGH I PRObably can't tag back til next week. An erstwhile murderer goes about their business in a post-apocalyptic world, such as picking people up at the bar and eating cookies. It's fine.
Date(s): August & September 2017
Warnings/Notes: Possibly some sexual stuff, non-graphic references to violence

open { bar;

[in the past few years, janus has learned a thing or two about being a person, doing regular person things, like for example the time-honored tradition of kind of sort of maybe picking someone up at a bar. making friends. contributing through some mystical means to the defense of a refugee city outflung in the reaches beyond the multiversal apocalypse. you know, the usual.

janus is at the citadel tonight. though defense systems and mysterious laboratories may take up much of the building, the lounge still has its cheesy music and dance floor and opulent indoor forest. it's a little weird, but then again, so is janus— a shadw under 6', muscular, dressed all in black, without enough facial expressions, quiet as a shadow until they abruptly appear at one's elbow.]

Allow me to buy you a drink. [a beat. they remember that things in xistentia are in general free-- the booze at this bar, especially.] Or make you one. I'm very exact with measurements. Goldilocks' ideal partner, once she's legal.

[look. a few years ago, they were a lot less smooth than this.]

open { misc! weird stalking;

[it's not that janus is following anyone specifically, they just have a habit of watching people wherever they're at. it's surveillance. it's tactical.

so maybe that ends up being you, going for a cup of coffee in the morning or helping to move produce to a grocery store one afternoon, building a shed for the new crop or teaching or preparing defenses. whatever you're doing, it's the weight of an indiscreet stare that pulls your attention. the young man looks both a million miles away and weirdly intense, like a hawk focusing a teeny tiny field mouse from a mile away.

but if you but look at them, janus stiffens and then looks apologetic, looking away and then back again, unsure if the formality of an apology would make the offense worse or better. murder is a lot easier than this, u no u no]

closed to team oreo (rafa, arthur, era) { teeeeam oreoooo;

Hello, this is Janus

[you remember. the stilted young man from the internet, who boasted a truly incredible ability.]

I have come into possession of Oreo cookies or a reasonable facsimile thereof
Please let me know when you are available and where to meet you, as I would like to share this bounty
:D

[:D]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

You must keep your back straight, [janus tells her, their voice as soothing as they can make it-- calm, mild as the misting rain under which orchids flourish and springtime advertises its gauzy sense of romance. it's actually really similar to their murder voice, sort of toneless and quiet, but fortunately rosie has none of that for frame of reference!] And then let yourself fall. Trust that I will catch you.

[in reality, it's both less and more than that. you don't have to trust in someone else to protect you, if you can trust in yourself to survive the fall itself. however, there's something to be said even for the simple pretend. it could mean anything. it could mean nothing. but she falls, a slender body through space, music thumping again her skin and the chilled air of the lounge whisking her hair. and when she lands, it's squarely in the hunter's arms.

and then they're smiling down at her, their face close enough that she can make out the freckles on their nose, smell they'd had something mint to crisp their breath before they'd drunk the long island ice tea. and she can tell that-- mainly because then they're moving, with careful optimism, to kiss her.]

Oreos are like other small, sweet things that look like they might be complected a bit with chocolate, [janus says, feeling a bit absurd !! but it's not too difficult. rafa makes it seem easy, amiable and warm, like. he'll play along, even if janus falls short of perfect on things other than parting oreos.] What makes them cooler to touch makes them--

[oh god what are they even saying.]

More intriguing-- to get into.

[what. look, the whole oreo thing was new, janus hadn't really expected for it to take off on the network as such and thus had not practiced any sort of script. they pull a little face that's half-smile, half-grimace, and then tilts the one half of the cookie that has the icing attached toward rafaello.] I mean-- it's not difficult, you could peel that discus off with your nails.

The way you do your slashing and stabbing, [janus says.] The angle of it.

[they step toward her quick, easy, maybe a little presumptively, but -- something about the language of combat is familiar to them, comforting in a way that most things in this life just aren't. they tap a finger against the edge of her wooden sword, running a finger along it til they reach the middle, tipping it up with a nudge, the calluses on the digit rasping very faintly against the slightly chipped grain of the practice weapon.]

You've learned in a way that's embedded in your muscle memory. You don't even have to think about it. [unmistakable approval in their voice. they drop their arm.]

How long?

[ Rafa listens to all of that with a growing smile. Leaning forward, he plucks the half-cookie with the icing out of Janus' fingers. ]

Well then, I shall have to try.

[ Try he does, and it turns out that Janus is right. The cookie doesn't particularly feel cold to him, but there's an easy enough reason for that. He peels it neatly away, and then finally lets Jessie eat the remains. She dives on the icing first, and stops bothering Janus.

Just in time for Rafa to start bothering them. He leans forward, elbows against the arm of Janus' chair. ]

Very well, I concede. I think you are tricky, to make them cool, but I have a fondness for trickiness.

I believe I made you a promise in return, did I not?

[ While she might not have a frame of reference for Janus personally, it does call to mind both pleasant and unpleasant associations. She thinks of Ren reassuring her in hushed tones after a fight when all her thoughts were rattling around wildly in her head; simultaneously, she hears the whispers of It'll all be over soon, you'll be alright from men in white coats who she never truly believed her her best interests at heart. The only thing they'd been interested in was the coin lining their pockets.

But she knows how to fake it until she makes it with the best of them and thus she allows herself to fall. Rose closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, and manages to refrain from squeaking as she drops back. It says a lot, maybe, that she's pleasantly surprised by the soft yet strong feeling of their arms holding her up instead of having met the hard floor below.

She's also (not as) pleasantly surprised that when she opens her eyes, she can count their freckles and smell minty freshness on their breath and then meets their lips with hers easily. ]

[rafaello had. janus remembers. they look at him for a half-beat, a half-a-heartbeat, their eyes clear and unblinking. you have to see better than an ordinary man or woman in order to land hits, and janus has been hurting people since their hand was large enough to hold a weapon. it wasn't until later in their life that they learned to channel something of this accuracy, this intuition, into the pleasures of flesh, but they took to it easier than they'd ever thought they would.

it's like learning a second language that's like enough to your first.] Buonasera bellissimo, [they say.] Our prizes were a little similar, I think.

[and then they kiss him. a hand around his little waist, like gentleman holding his date at cotillion around her fine white dress, respectful of the elegant shape of the cascade of her skirts— even while there's nothing particularly reserved about his mouth on her mouth, the initial surge as fierce as a bite, then the hungry brush of their lips after, testing the feel of a body absent breath.]

[this part

this part is nice. janus wraps their hands around her waist, pull her up. they can bench nearly a ton, so she's light in their grip, like— like they sometimes suppose dancers must feel their partners are, with the familiarity of anatomy, the certainty of how one is supposed to move together. they hitch her up against their body, ducking their head to make up for the disparity of their heights. kiss her again, tongue delving into her mouth, their coarse, callus-worn fingers nonetheless smooth on her back.

she tastes like liquor and— you might as well call the other flavor freedom, probably. that's what they'd call it if they were talking to her. but they aren't. instead, they're leaning her up on the bar, smiling against her mouth, a little proud of themself, a little charmed by the wolf woman and her blonde hair.]

[ Rose had convinced herself at one time that this part wasn't nice. She had told herself it wasn't anything she was missing. Yet, in this moment, she wonders how she could have ever truly believed that. When she feels Janus' hands at her waist, the effortless way they lift her up, and the warmth of their body against her- Well, she wonders why she'd allowed herself to subscribe to that lie for so long.

Rose parts her lips to allow their tongue to dart into her mouth. She's smiling, too, just as equally charmed. Her hands find their way to anything she can grab onto. The only time she breaks away is because the pesky need to breathe. For as non-mortal as she is, she still has some similar functionalities. Normally, breathing is such a non-thought but right now it's so obvious. So hindering.

She just wants to kiss the cute hunter more. She wants more. Rose always wants more. Indulgence might be one of her vices but she's not about to stop when it means she gets to make-out with super hot people like Janus. ]

Honestly? Only a few months. Less than a year.

( Clary eyes Janus with something like curiosity in her eyes. She's used to mysterious people just appearing to talk combat with her. Shadowhunters make it a habit to appear and tell her where she's going wrong anyway. Janus isn't doing that, actually they sound almost impressed. She can't help but feel pleased about that. )

I'm still learning.

( The runes help, of course. But she had to work hard to prove herself, to even get to a place like this. It's been a long few months. )

What about you? What's your weapon of choice?

[it's no great vice. janus is very discerning about vices— things that will poison your body, damage the mechanics of your mind, pollute the substance of your soul and the runoff to your dreams. consensual banging is like most things in life— crucial for the survival of life in the multiverse, safe short of excess, and if you aren't trying anything like erotic asphyxiation using the coils of a live cobra or anything.

they wind up in a bedroom. there are a lot of them at the citadel, empty, full of mystery and remote hygiene concerns that janus tells themself probably get magicked away like all the other logistics of this world. it's fine. it's actually better than fine. the mattress is firm and bouncy when they swing her onto it, watching her blonde hair jump off her shoulders. it's not real trust, not really, but that's what's fun too. real trust would be scarier.]

Do you speak any languages other than English? [they inquire cheerfully, kissing her neck, then her mouth, planning long hands down her hip.] What was your first one.

[ Rafa has just about the time to smile before their lips land together. His head has tilted, and with a sound somewhere between surprise and laughter, he leans into it. His lips are soft and eager, moving against Janus' until they find a steady rhythm together. His hand lifts up to stroke through Janus' hair, brushing it back from both of their faces. The other arm slides around them, idly, holding just tightly enough to tell Janus there's no need to pull back just yet.

No need at all. Rafa's tongue flashes over their lips, stealing a taste that makes his own mouth curve beneath Janus'. He's tilted up just now, with very minimal space left between their bodies.

It feels nice. It tastes sweet. At length his eyelashes flutter shut against Janus' cheek, and he loses himself in that kiss. ]

[there's a flattering edge of surprise in janus' expression when she says that. she's advanced for that time. a natural born murderer. congratulations, clary fray. a fellow murderer appreciates your skills, even if it's not exactly their personality to pop confetti over her head about it.] Small knives, [they answer.] Because of the stealth. Also, I used to be a much smaller person, and it would surprise people if I tried for close quarters combat.

It was an advantage, to be underestimated. You might have found that. I don't know how people are about diminutive redheads with only six months of training in your world, but in mine, people would have been bastards about it.

[they offer her a half-smile, and then walk across the square training area. they pick up a training sword of their own, out of the rack on the side. they grasp it by the hilt, and start to pull— then pause, looking at her with a question on their face. janus has a hell of a propensity for alone-time too. they'd get it if she'd rather.]

[ Don't worry, that's not a kink Rose plans on whipping out during a first time. That's not to say it isn't something that might sound exciting down the line, however, if there is a down the line. She's actually almost comically bad at the 'hit and quit it' mentality but has definitely taken most encounters here a lot less seriously than Eudio. Since being so intense actually might have scared away a perfectly good opportunity, especially.

So, she's casual now. Or trying to be. It's easy to tell herself that, anyway, as she bounces onto the bed with a bit of laughter. It's easy not to think too much into things when she's being kissed and asked interesting questions. Rose herself grabs at the fabric of their shirt, wondering why they're still wearing it. Why there's still far too much clothing between them both, honestly. ]

The language of wolves, [ which probably sounds very profound and deep. In reality, it's just the truth. Her mother tongue wasn't anything spoken by people but animals. It isn't anything she thinks she can truly convey, however, to someone that's not so- ] But after that, Japanese.

[nice and sweet. both are adjectives that fit the two of them to some extent, and not at all, but it's never been the way of survivors to be only one thing. there is a time to be a monster.

and there are evenings to kiss a diminutive and lovely man, feel his mouth slant over your own and his hips dish a little when you spread your fingers over the smooth glass cut of their bones. janus smiles a little, palpably against rafa's mouth, but they don't take a breath to come up for air, partly because fitness, and partly because they've spent almost a decade practicing this, you know, how to breathe and kiss at the same time.

it's only a matter of moments before there's a hand sneaking under rafa's shirt, cunning as a thief, but not especially subtle. the pads of janus' fingers are callused, snagging slightly on the smooth slope of his spine, even as their mouth moves over to try his ear.]

( There's something strange about Janus. They're intriguing, and she's always been too curious for her own good. She won't worry about strange people appearing to make proclamations over fighting right now. Not when there's something more interesting at hand.
)

It works in my favour. ( Being small, being rough around the edges. People look at her, and they expect someone slow and easily manipulated. Or they expect a pawn. Valentine's daughter. A threat because she exists, but not much of one. Not a girl with fire bursting from her at any given moment. Not a girl who'll fight tooth and nail. ) I just have to prove them wrong.

( They approach the training area, taking one of the wooden swords. Clary's smile is bright and mischievous. )

Okay then.

[janus likes them some making out, but the skitter of slender hands up their sides tells him that the woman would like to move things along. they lift themself off her a moment, effectively doing a push-up that emphasizes the cut musculature of their shoulders and upper-arms. and showing off a little, maybe. showing off a little never killed anybody. (showing off has definitely killed lots of people, just not like this.)

reaching back with one hand, they manage to support their whole weight above her on just one arm, which is definitely showing off slightly more. they smile at her, lopsidedly, friendly, a little lustful, a little more than a little lustful, and then they reach back over their own shoulder, hooking long fingers in the fabric of their shirt. and pull. the shirt skims up over their stomach, chest, hikes over the breadth of their shoulders. and they drop it just past her shoulder.

freckles dust their delts, the rift between their pectorals is deep and taut. there are only the faintest scars. hunters don't keep the wounds they're given.]

Do you ever lose English?

[they lay back down, halfway on her, halfway braced on the mattress beside her, running a thumb up her belly, skimming up the hem of her shirt until her breasts are exposed in her underthings. another tug, urging her to raise up her arms.]

[ There's a sight Rose doesn't think she'll ever tire of. It's like unwrapping a present every time, new and exciting; there's something so splendid about the first clothes being peeled away and only skin left underneath. Janus' is beautiful, too. There's so much personality there in their freckles, some story too in the scars even for as faint as they may be. She wants to kiss every inch of it that she possibly can and maybe she'll be able to if given the opportunity.

Their showing off is doing quite a lot for Rose, she'll have them know. ]

Sometimes, [ she says, shifting to follow their lead and raise her arms. It's just as swift a moment before her shirt's gone and- Somewhere. She doesn't care. She'd rather smile at the cute person atop her and answer their question. ]

I forget some words, or- English generalizes a lot. Most people just say 'seaweed' but there's so many different types. Nori, wakame, hijiki. I don't know how you can just call them all the same.

[ Rafa feels wandering hands, and knows it's more than what they agreed. He allows it anyway, liking Janus' eagerness, and liking the feeling of their hands beyond that. He presses closer, hands stroking their way into their hair, and trailing down over the back of their neck.

His lips stay soft and pliant, happy to taste Janus and enjoy them. Then as they move, his head tilts, and he lets out a little sound at the lips on his ear. His eyes half-lid, and he trails his own fingers down their back. His mouth finds Janus' neck, and without error he finds their pulse point. His lips kiss at it, and his tongue presses lightly against it. He keeps his teeth away, just about. It's tempting. It's always tempting. ]

I am growing tired of the floor.

[ He says, after a moment, and one fluid movement sees him slide up into Janus' lap instead. It seems appropriate. He cups their cheek, and lifts his eyebrows. ]

Does this suit you?

[janus' half-smile turns into a full one. they heft the weapon of their choice, a wooden sword that's not much larger than hers, and the same style. they stoop agilely then to loosen the laces on their shoes, take their feet out of them one by one. they then nudge them aside with a heel, and straighten. swing their sword, side to side, familiarizing themself with the weight and balance of it.

they come to a stop four meters from her, and then drop their tall frame into a front stance. one leg forward, the other back. their weight leaned slightly to the fore. they study the smile on her face in turn. she looks sharp enough to cut, wooden edges or no.]

Did I get your name?

[they kiss her at some point after the three types-- formats?— iterations of seaweed in japanese. her mouth is precious and bright, her eyes warm with friendly interest. they like this too, when things are amicable and pleasurable. to be in the bed of a beautiful woman who doesn't ask for anything but

more words for seaweed, apparently.]

Does it happen more often if you're distracted? [long, rough fingers under her back unhook her bra. the elastic straps relax abruptly, losing their taut stretch, going wiggly and soft atop her shoulders. they tug it up off her arms, and then start on her clavicles, a small bite placed at the center peak, where one wing meets the other below the hollow of her throat. a smile tucked against her after that.] Fall yourself lapsing into the Japanese?

[in general, people don't weigh a lot to janus. when you can hoist nearly half a ton around, because a harpy's stronger than a human and a hunter will be stronger than their harpy, too, any of your standard assortment of bones and muscles and hair and clothing aren't going to be much. rafa's smaller than most, fits tidy on their lap. they wonder at his secrets. how it came to be he can walk in the sun.

but he's still cool to touch, and it's more marked as janus' skin grows warmer. they wonder, but they don't think too hard about it really— distractions at hand, like the way rafa's little palm conforms to their cheek, how soft his eyes look. it'd be a sight that people would joke might make a good death, if the fangs came next in the dark.] I like it more than I like chocolate, [they tell him truthfully, smiling,] which I never got the infamous effects from, anyway.

[ In the past, many had experienced the exact scene Janus is imagining. This moment would have been their last, and Rafa would have considered it a kinder death than most humans ever got. These days, he is trying to be better than that. It has been a very long time since his teeth have been anyone's cause of death. He is trying to be better for Shane's sake, and for Alec's, and for Dick's, maybe, even though there is no Dick to be better for anymore, and even though Shane claims not to require it. He is trying.

He thinks he is more or less successful. But that doesn't remove the temptation, especially when he's this close to warm, flushing skin, and soft lips, and gentle, willing hands, and smiles that seem to trust him. This would be sweeter if he could bite. He could make Janus enjoy it, even, the way he made all of them enjoy it.

But then the warm hands would grow cold and the smile would disappear, and Rafa would care about that in a way he didn't used to. So he doesn't bite; he only nips, and then kisses, and lets his hands trail down over a warm cheek and warming neck, and beneath them there's a firmer chest than he was expecting, sloping to a taught stomach, and hips he can neatly fit his own against.

And then there's the trail of kisses back up to Janus' lips, the soft tug of blunt teeth against their lower lip, and the way Rafa's smile curves onto theirs before he speaks. ]

You taste better than chocolate. I never liked it much, anyway, but I like you.

[ He nudges his nose against theirs while leaning in to kiss them again. ]

[ Only the sexiest of requests from Rose. It seems to serve her well, at least. The tightness of her bra suddenly isn't and she's wiggling her shoulders a little at the newfound freedom. She so loves her freedom, especially when it leads her to getting progressively more naked in bed with a handsome new acquaintance. That's the best kind of freedom, in her opinion. She might be biased though. Just a little.

She can't help the giggle that escapes her lips at the feeling of their lips brushing against her skin, the fleeting graze of their teeth there too. Janus is learning something that very few people know: Rose is extremely ticklish. ]

When I'm emotional, [ she answers, her own hands resuming their roaming. Now that their shirt is off the next order of business would be those pesky pants. ] Which is kind of funny, when I think about it. That when I get upset, I use one of the most polite languages there is.

[flattery. this kind had never moved janus the way that good grades and hunter accolades had, because they're a brittle and boring little soul inside the freckles and jawline, but there's an artistry to it, to the way that rafa does it, his voice a molasses-smooth purr housed in the slender barrel of his chest, his hair in his eyes. and it seems sincere, besides. precautions sit in the back of janus' mind like a sword waiting in its sheathe.

they're enjoying themself. running their fingers down the nape of rafa's back, then onto the fabric of his shirt. feeling the subtle hills of vertebrates through the material, how fine his muscles, nearly as smooth as the razortoothed kisses going up janus' neck. when rafa comes up for their mouth again, they kiss him back.] I always liked salty things, [they admit.] With a little bite to them. You're both to me. [another kiss lapped off his mouth, and then they nose his cheek, placing another on the crook of his jaw.] Salted caramel, that kind of thing.

I suppose-- [and then their nose is poking up companionably alongside his. eyelashes lifting so they can look at rafa half-mast, a warm smile to go with the nuzzle.] None of it sounds good to you now. I should compare you to silk and finer things. Do you like silk?

Best not to get upset at times like these, [janus agrees, light but not mocking. they pull the trousers off her hips, a quick hitch, a little rough, that exposes a smooth, inch-wide slice of bare skin on her sides. after that, they're a little gentler, easing the fabric off her thighs. her scars don't make them stop or fumble, and then they're equally sure-handed about working their own jeans off their narrow hips. their dick pops out to say hello, tenting under their black briefs.] Good emotions?

You don't tend to lose English then? [but instead of trying to put it to her immediately, there's a long coarse finger in their own mouth, licked for moisture. and then they reach down between her thighs, plying up the flesh of sleek muscle, to her groin. looking to find her clit and coax it out gently to play.

their hair falls in their eyes. they smile at her.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 4 of 6

o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

powerposing more, moving this along, poke me if not ok!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ffw a bit lmk if not ok

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wow that icon is beautimous shoves jace's face

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject