Frostbyte waves sleepily to all present.
Camilla, hands in sleeves, cranes hir long neck and nips Frostbyte's ear.
Frostbyte smiles and leans in to those teeth. "Good afternoon, Camilla."
Ryokouka WOOFS AT fROST.
Ryokouka fixes her CAPS LOCK.
You say, "Hey there, Ryoukoua."
Arine noses at Ryo, in that little kitty way. She drapes her head backwards over the arm of the gel couch that Ryo is sitting on with Ari across her lap, and makes a face at Frostbyte. Not an insulting face, but a rather childish one. Then she says to Ryo, "I SAY HAVE YOU ANY WATERMELONS?"
Camilla rrrrrmbles, with lots of teeth. "Frostbyte."
You say, "The data buffers must have been full."
Arine comments, "You have the Hero's Sweep Exception."
Ryokouka giggles a little at Arine, and pets down her head and back, saying, "Aww, such a cute little kitty..." She then smiles, and pats Arine's head, instantiating a *huge* watermelon.
Arine purrs both sweetly and smugly, soaking up every bit of attention like a hungry sponge. She squirms her supple spine, wriggling across Ryo's lap. When the watermelon appears, her eyes boggle wide and she exclaims, "Wow, doggy. I never knew that you had such huge melons! You'd never think, to look at you."
Ryokouka snickers at that, and tickles down Arine's back, saying, "Hey, don't look at me. I didn't build this body, and I don't go for breast augmentations."
Arine smirks and says, "Regardless, it's a pretty nice body to inhabit. I /know/." She turns into little miss squirmy cat at the tickling, all but flopping around across Ryo.
Ryokouka nodnods at Arine's comment, then eeps as the kitty starts squirming around in her lap, giggling and wiggling under her.
Arine's squirminess slowly subsides, and just as it looks like she's about to breath and relax, she bites the side of Ryo's chest. Not hard, and with the side of her mouth that's now sans fang, but nevertheless she clamps down lightly just outside her bosom.
Ryokouka eeps as Arine bites down on her chest, tickling the cat behind the ears as she asks, "Hey, what's that all about?"
Arine speaks out of the side of her mouth, which makes her one remaining fang all the more prominent, saying, "Ah dunno. If'n'it feels gud, duh it." Her ears begin to twitch, as twittering little giggle sneak out past her lips.
Ryokouka has disconnected.
Arine unclamps her jaw and pokes at Ryo a few times. "I've been killing her so often, lately," she says.
Arine shrugs and says, smugly, "Guess I'm just too much for the old dog to handle." You say, "She never struck me as old, to be honest."
Arine blinks once, her eyes rolling over a little cloudily. "She's never struck me at all," she says. "I'm not surprised that she wouldn't tell you her age, though, if you did something bad enough to warrant being hit."
Camilla whispers, "We have to wait until AFTEr the opera for the sex?" to you.
You say, "Next time I'll have to approach her slightly less aggressively."
Ryokouka is automatically deleted to free up local space.
Camilla rumblechuckles. "Frostbyte? *Less* aggressively?"
You say, "She seems so conducive to a random humping."
Arine bounds off of the couch, thrusting her head up and landing square on her feet, Jackie Chan style. Hey, she is a cat. She cricks her neck back and forth, then adjusts and smooths down a jacket that she's not wearing. "In that, we agree," says Arine. A pause, and then, "Did I just say that? Guess I did."
You say, "Arine, when did you become so... cattish?"
Frostbyte settles himself against Camilla, enjoying her proximity.
Camilla's tail thumps the ground. Hir fingers slide around to Frostbyte's sides, and hir teeth perforate his other ear. >.<
Arine smiles a bright, smug smile. "Oh, long about a week ago. Do you like it?" she asks, looking down over herself, "I think it's quite fetching, myself."
Frostbyte nnf's as his ear is bit thru again, and nods softly to Arine. "Yes... Yes, it's a good look for you. I quite like it. How does it fit in to your narrative?"
Camilla puts hir hand on Frostbyte's pate, bends his head to the side, and chews on his exposed neck.
Arine chuckles a bit, pausing for a moment to ponder that. She picks absently at the slash on her right arm a bit, before finally saying, "I'd call it a little bit of foreshadowing, a little bit of the outward appearance approaching the inward character. Like in Jaws II, where the shark gets that big scar that makes him look sinister. Now, if /I'd/ been making that movie, I'd have given him an eye patch and a peg-fin."
Frostbyte nnffs. He grinds his thighs together and clenches his hands white-knuckled.
Camilla slurps Frost's neck, then whispers something in his ear.
Frostbyte struggles to wrap his mind around the word 'peg-fin' and entirely fails. @.@ He leans back in to Camilla's teeth and utterly surrenders to her grasp.
Camilla whispers, "I'm not going to have sex with you anymore. I'm simply going to eat you, and make you mine forever." to you.
Frostbyte nods absentmindedly. "Okay," he murmurs, "Just don't stop nibbling."
Arine smiles brightly, seeming to delight in the fact that she's once again broken a very small part of someone's mind.
Camilla clamps her large jaws on Frost's shoulder, chewing slowly. Hir long fingers wander over his torso.
Frostbyte grinds back in to Camilla's thigh with his rump, pressing his smooth fur in to the silk-clad dragon. "No sex at all..? Not even before dinner?"
Camilla snorts. "Sex is over-rated. Is that ALL you think about?" Sie rests hir chin on his shoulder.
Arine continues to pick at the wound, and says, "Yeah. Sex is nothing compared to petting and fish and tastykakes."
Frostbyte huffs quietly. "I like sex. I think if you're going to devour me I have the right to make a few requests, that's all."
Camilla grinds hir teeth, rumbling from low in the throat. "You only have the right to do as I say, and you will *like* it." Hir clawed fingers grope Frost's rump.
Arine grins as she sits back on a crate marked on all sides, "Danger: Kittykitty".
Frostbyte stands straight up and rigid, both in back and in the loins, and nods with wide eyes, pressing back in to Camilla's teeth and claws. "Yes ma'am."
Camilla gwurfs, and lets Frostbyte go, runs hir fingers through hir hair. "Rrf, you bring out a nasty side of me, you do."
"You simply /must/ get me the number to where ever you took assertive management training," says Arine, apparently to Camilla.
Frostbyte turns and nuzzles against Camilla with a very happy expression. "I _like_ it. Boss me around some more."
Camilla licks hir dry lips. "I've spent all this time on physical and mental discipline. You're a bad influence."
Frostbyte grinds his thigh gently in to Camilla's. "I don't care. I want to be bossed around and I'm willing to force you to do it," he purrs.
Arine says, "..."
Camilla says, "Well, then ... take me to the opera. A *good* opera."
"No bubbledolls or Strange mutants," Camilla gestures dismissively. "Proper actors. And none of those subtitles on scrolling screens, how *gauche*."
Frostbyte eyes roll back in his head for a moment as he churns through the metasphere, looking for a good spot. "I know a *good* opera," he says warmly, nibbling along Camilla's neckruff. "Let me take you there."
Arine smirks and wiggles her fingers, saying, "You kids have a good time."
You offer to let Camilla walk along with you.
Camilla decides to walk along with you.
Camilla bows hir head goodbye.
Transit Nexus
Frostbyte enters, with Camilla walking along next to him.
You say, "Do you mind if I get properly dressed before we arrive, madam? William requested that I procure an outfit of more Toppish bent, and for his pleasure I did so, but I'm sure it would fit well at the opera as well."
Camilla says, "Do I *mind*? I insist."
Camilla's tail flicks excitedly. "I need to change, myself."
Frostbyte huffs. o.o "Yes ma'am." He is definately in a shout-at-able mood today.
Camilla tries to make hir face a politely mask, but hir tail flicks excitedly.
Frostbyte leads you to a public bath-house, a good spot to change or otherwise be chastely undignified. The changing rooms are segregated in to individual booths, so you do not see the awkward process of donning his clothes - only the end result.
>> You quietly morph to 'Male Hedgehog, Depraved Marquis'.
Frost is a hedgehog with ice blue, nearly white, fur and quills, and a sleekly muscular body, an even five feet tall - Five foot six if you count his quills, long and gleaming like icicles, a deeper blue than the rest of him. He wears an outfit more suited to a 17th century Marquis of Italy than here.
Atop his head, he wears a tricorn hat adorned with a tight-curled golden feather. O'er his shoulders, a thigh-length frogged coat open at the back down to his tail, allowing his thick quills to provide modesty. Not only is the front held shut with buttoned frogging, but the frogging (an ornamental looped cord of silk with knots for fastening) continues over his quills, attaching to them to hold it modestly tight. Both are cream-colored silk embroidered with entwined floral and geometric patterns.
'Bout his neck is a white silk scarf with ruffled tassels tied in a french twist, and about his waist he wears a vest with pearl buttons. From the waist down, he has knee-length silk shorts and gleaming white stockings brighter even than his fur, ending in short leather buckled loafers with a one-inch heel.
To simplify, he is dressed like the guy on the left:
Camilla has to slip out to her OptHab in Up, herself, but returns quickly. *^.^*
Camilla is a humanoid dragon, standing somewhere over 160cm when hir head is held high. Hir bristly hair is white, draped below hir shoulder-blades. Two catfish-whisker barbels descend a dozen centimeters from eithir side of hir pointed face, curled lopsidedly. Irregular whiskers protrude all about hir cheeks and jaw, culminating in a rather thin Van Dyke beard on hir chin. Two pointed nubs are visible on hir head, the beginnings of stag's horns. When sie smiles, hir bony cheeks reveal delicate dimples.
Camilla wears a Qing-dynasty jifu "dragon robe", red silk adorned with golden thread; when outside, sie wears a long-gua surcoat adorned with auspicious bats, clouds, and Buddhist swastikas, with black satin hat adorned with a single peacock feather. Sie often keeps hir hands in hir sleeves and stands stock still, though hir long, tufted tail can't help but twitch, or thump the ground angrily. Camilla sees the world through heavy-lidded, large yellow eyes, and sie moves with economical grace.
Camilla's scales are sea foam, but hir hair remains white, hir horns are a dull gold. In the right light, the tiny diatom scales of hir hide can be seen, as well as the larger ventral plates of hir neck and belly.
Camilla says, "Why, Frostbyte. You look simply charming."
Frostbyte bows deeply. "It is a pleasure to present myself so well to you."
You say, "You, in turn, are as striking to the eye as the vivid leaves of autumn as they release themselves to the wanton urges of the wild wind."
Camilla says, "In the costume you usually reserve for titillating William, I presume?"
Camilla blushes a deeper green. "Ahem. Yes."
You say, "Titillating William and scolding Buck."
You say, "I feel regal in it. I feel it suits me."
Camilla draws hir fingers along your arm. "It is impressive what proper formal wear can do, isn't it?"
Frostbyte licks his lips softly, and nods. He has a bit of flush to his cheeks, a bit of tension in his movement. "It can be _very_ comfortable. Do come with me... I will show you the opera house."
Camilla extends hir arm, and waits for you to thread your arm through.
You offer to let Camilla walk along with you.
Camilla decides to walk along with you.
Frostbyte does so, with careful motion and restraint.
Camilla sneaks a hand to the small of your back, and rubs.
Frostbyte leads you down the winding roads of Top. Were this any other Warp, our clothing would be mangled by now, from the long twisting wilderness trails and clinging branches and twigs, but the biomes of Top are better behaved than that. In the span of perhaps twenty minutes of small talk and quiet flirtation, we arrive at a nestled glade in the forest, where two tall, elven creatures in elaborate decorative dress bow welcomingly. "Thank you for coming to the Operata of Spring's Dawning. Frostbyte - I have not seen you here in some time. Welcome back. And who is this lovely madamoisellammo who graces our humble theatre today?"
Camilla growfs?, whiskers stretching, then composes hirself. "I am the Good Xin Jin Meng. I have not had the pleasure of attending your house before today, I am honored to be here."
Frostbyte pipes up, quietly, "I saw on your metasphere node that you had a performance by a Terran opera troupe today, yes?" The other elf, who had thus far remained silent, nods and says, "Indeed. They shall be here until Friday. Today they will perform The Marriage of Figaro - context candies are available as a complimentary service for our guests." The elf speaking to Camilla smiles and bows deeply. "It is an honor for us, as well. Do come in - the play will begin in precisely twenty minutes, local time," he declares, checking his watch.
Camilla quickly walks in ... and then pinches Frostbyte's butt with hir claws. "You've *been here BEFORE*?"
Frostbyte nghs at the pinch, fingers and toes curling as he strains to mask his reaction to your fierce touch. "Yes, ma'am. They were showing some performances written on a world I once did... work on."
"You knew about this opera house and never told me?," Camilla says, "%n snorts, nostrils flaring, barbels drooping, tail rising. "I'm not sure what to make of that, I'm really not.""
"You knew about this opera house and never told me?," Camilla snorts, nostrils flaring, barbels drooping, tail rising. " "I'm not sure what to make of that, I'm really not.""
Frostbyte blushes softly. "I presumed that you could discover it via the metasphere without undue difficulty, but I presumed in error. My apologies, ma'am."
"It ... doesn't respond properly to my brain waves." Camilla frowns. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't take this out on you."
Frostbyte mnfs, licking his lips. "Oh, no, please do." We begin to approach the refreshment stand, where tiny winged fey prance through the fonts. "Do you want to get something to drink?"
Camilla giggles. "Hydration is key. I could use some tea." Sie rests hir head on your shoulder, tail curling around to your midriff.
Frostbyte smiles to the fey, pressing himself ever so subtly in to your touch, and murmurs, "Two iced teas, please."
Camilla nuzzles your cheek, fingers venturing up and down your side.
Frostbyte stands ramrod straight, breathing slow and steady and deep as he presses himself gently in to you. Your teas are delivered and he offers you one mutely, looking a little dizzy with lust.
Camilla sips hir tea, hand stroking your shoulder-blades, before sie recovers herself and decorum returns.
Frostbyte leads you to your and his seat, which, like all the seats here, is a private booth. The orchestra is warming up, easing their freshly instantiated instruments in to full readiness, familiarizing themselves.
Camilla seats hirself, tail folded in hir lap, eyes held forward, as if willing hirself to enjoy the show. Sie places hir drink on the small table between us and folds hir hands in hir lap.
The orchaestra's random sounds die down, and for an instant, all is silent, and the sole show is the other watchers, a veritable panoply of the Mess's many species. Then, with an eruption of joyful noise, the curtain is raised upon Scene 1, Act 1, where Figaro busies himself in his bedroom, determinine where to place he and his wife's nuptial bed.
Camilla's eyes have an annoying habit of blinking twice -- once with hir eyelids, once with hir lizardy nictating membranes. Sie quietly mouths, "Delle belle turbando il riposo, Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor."
Frostbyte likes the double blinking.
Camilla sniffs, and daubs hir eyes, even though it's not even a sad part.
Camilla gathers hir tail into hir lap, and swallows uncomfortably.
Figaro's wife, Susanna, tries on her bridal hat. Soon, she falls to disagreement with Figaro over their new bedroom because it is too close to that of the Count and Countess, and in the discussion, it is revealed that the Count is plotting with her music teacher, Don Basilio, to get her to sleep with him... She rushes off, when the countess rings for her. Alone in his bedroom, Figaro vows revenge, "Se vuol ballare, signor Contino..." and storms off in a cold rage.
Camilla shakes hir shoulders. "I'm so terrible," sie mutters, tail tip rising in the air as it flicks.
Camilla takes your hand, squeezes it, threading hir fingers through yours.
Frostbyte smiles to you softly, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes and prominent lashes.
Camilla rrrmbles like a great cat. "I should watch the show." Sie lifts your hand to hir lips and kisses your knuckles. "I really should, it's so beautiful." Hir teeth gingerly play across your wrist.
Frostbyte grins. "You can do anything you want... Besides, you've seen this before, if I'm not mistaken. I, for one, am curious how it goes."
Camilla shakes hir head. "Never. Never seen it. It's in my schooling, they printed it on my brain."
"Then we should watch it together," he purrs, sliding his fingertips around yours.
Camilla clamps hir jaws around your wrist, and chews harder, eyes shut, breath cold and panting.
Frostbyte looks at where your teeth crease the silk of his glove, and smiles. "My goodness."
Camilla pulls back your sleeve rather roughly, licking at the small of your wrist. Hir tail curls around hir chair as sie squirms, face flushed, nostrils flaring.
Frostbyte reaches out with one hand to gently draw the curtains of the booth seats, closing us off from view of all except the performers themselves - and they've surely seen it all before.
Camilla takes your hand from hir mouth and places it in hir lap, the firm bulge of hir arousal quite evident. "I'm so terrible," sie whispers, rubbing hir eyes. "I'm finally here, right now, and I'm not even watching the show."
Frostbyte clutches that firm bulge with his strong hands, and smiles at you. "You watch the show," he purrs softly. "I'll keep you entertained. How does that sound, madamoisellamo?"
Camilla grinds hir teeth against each other, and hir hips against your hand. Sie nods hir response, eyes unfocussed as sie tries to look at the stage.
Frostbyte slips out of the chair, on to his knees, and carefully begins to un-knot the fastenings of your dragon robe - no more than three buttons left undone, letting your shaft ease out of the gap.
Camilla's knees part, hir blushing member sliding free, but sie only rests hir hands on your head and remains riveted on the show.
Frostbyte wraps his powdered lips around your cock gingerly, carefully sliding it in deeper. Every inch of it vanishes demurely in to his kiss.
Camilla rocks back and forth in hir seat, but sie lacks for discipline and has been pent up far too long. As soon as the Countess Almaviva sings the first few notes of "Dove Sono," Camilla tears hir collar from hir rope and bites down on it to keep from crying out, just as hir bonobial orgasm ruptures in your mouth.
Frostbyte's eyes go _wide_, and he nearly chokes on the sudden flood of seed rich with pleasure and purpose. He presses his lips tight to your cock, forced to hold close to keep from uncouthly spilling, and swallows, over and over, feeling the contents of your gland settle in to his belly, all at once. His quills are quivering with emotion.
Camilla's teeth rip through hir collar, hir belly sloshing quietly as the large gland pumps away. Sie bends over your head and snorts hir cool breath as sie spends hirself, claws scrabbling at your raised quills, petting them down as they keep rising.
Frostbyte moans very softly, pinned down on his knees by your hips, with his head between your legs and his mouth wide open around your cock. He closes his eyes and presses in to your crotch harder, his drool beginning to run down and leave bright trails on his chin.
Camilla nips at your ear, just as hir own passion ebbs away. Hir long fingers wipe at your chin, as sie lifts your head from hir, leaning over to kiss you.
Frostbyte mmphs as your cock slides out of his mouth, his regal bearing shattered and not missed. With infinite worship he arches in to your kiss, still on his knees, supplicant and soft.
Camilla tosses hir ruined collar aside. "I'm," sie pants, "I'll embarrass myself if you don't have a gag or something, tell me you have something, a hankerchief or something."
Frostbyte instantiates a leather bit gag, and offers it to you without a word.
Camilla quickly bites into it, and bows hir head, waiting for you to tie. Sie pushes the chair back, then kicks it, dropping to hir knees.
Frostbyte ties the gag nice and tight, holding your mouth well shut, pressing as close as he can without actually touching you.
Camilla nuzzles your hand, eyes closed, and then puts hir hands on the balcony railing, pushing hir rump high into the air, tail whipping about.
Frostbyte grips your tailtip and quietly winds it about his wrist. He leans his hips in to yours, and begins to gently raise your skirt and lower his breeches.
Camilla arches hir back, presenting hir slickened sex eagerly, hir tail constricting your wrist and the tuft on the end brushing against you. Hir long, heavy robe bunches up against your own cumbersome clothes.
Frostbyte's cock presses in to you, slowly but surely as the tides. The thrust begins as Figaro catches one long, deep note, and as he finishes, so does Frost - hilt deep inside you.
Camilla utters a guttural, strangled cry, which might've been louder but for the tight gag around hir long jaws. Sie quickly clenches hir folds around your length and shudders when her blushing spot presses firm.
Frostbyte leans down and nips the back of your neck, quite gently. "I did this to William, not too long ago," he murmurs. "Not here, of course. Perhaps you'll have a chance to, soon." He gives you another swift deep _thrust_.
Camilla only snorts a response, claws digging into the veneer of the railing, and hir pelvis contracts instantly. This time, hir orgasm is slow, measured, mechanical, .. and rather in tempo with the current aria.
Frostbyte smiles softly, riding it out with you, letting it merge with the music as he watches the opera over your shoulder. From the right angle, you and he might just be cuddling - conceivably.
Camilla bucks against your thighs, a gesture even the most virgin ingenue would not mistake for 'cuddling'. The second half is mostly fluff and winding up the story, anyway, or so Camilla would tell you if she was paying any attention to anything but the twinges of hir arousal against your stiffened member.
Frostbyte shivers, his fingers digging in to the curves of your hips through the robe, his eyes tightly shut. "You'll make me release, if you don't halt, madam..."
Camilla draws you down and then up, as sie bucks harder, a trickle of hir meager juices sliding down your thighs.
Frostbyte chrrrs quietly, eyes opening again and looking over the small of your back, that shred of exposed skin which is so forbidden. "Alright, then." He quietly presses forward, and then comes, bursting in to you with a quiet hiss of heat inside you.
Camilla's teeth dig deep into hir gag, and sie lists a bit to hir side, still pumping you. Hir color blossoms into an iridiscent blue, clashing with hir robe.
Frostbyte stands firmly still, letting your cunt ripple around him, taking his time. Finally, after you have drawn his juices wholly in to your body, he steps back, wipes himself and you on his handkerchief, and settles his breeches back in to place.
Camilla drops to the floor, knees together, head resting on hands gripping the railing. Hir chest heaves as sie pants exhaustedly, clawed toes clutching and releasing the air.
You say, "I trust, madamoisellamo, that you feel well?"
Camilla gwurfles, then remembers that sie's still gagged. Sie smiles weakly.
Frostbyte politely ungags you.
Camilla gasps, and rubs hir throat. "I ... " Sie lets that trail off, and then pulls hirself to hir feet. Hir first attempt to sit in hir chair is met with a tender wince. -.-
Frostbyte settles himself next to you in the booth, dapper as ever, and quietly does up the buttons of your dragon robe again.
Camilla licks hir dry lips, and gives you a quick kiss, before sitting in hir chair and making an effort to enjoy what's left of the opera. *^.^*