Over the course of finding and opening the letter, he read and re-read its writing several times over, attempting to commit its contents, particularly the names, to memory as diligently as if they were on his next finals. The Negaverse agents mentioned didn't ring any bells, but how could they when the majority of the other powered beings he had encountered so far were White Moon Senshi and knights? Perhaps this was partially due to the fact that the Negaverse didn't share the same interest in the Chaotic auras of the Dark Mirror Court that the Order beings did. The latter seemed intent on pouncing on any Chaos signature whether out of curiosity, prejudice, or a combination of the two. What reason did the Negaverse have to confront them, though?
If they weren't going to seek him out, then Ptolemy would just have to take the initiative on his own. He had become especially interested in them after the fiasco at the music festival. The fact that he'd found a knight being extorted by them only bestowed him with further motivation to dig and learn more regarding what they were about.
Richard, of course, was part of the Negaverse as Lieutenant Huntite, but when they'd discussed the topic, it hadn't sounded like he was in too deep or had been a part of the organization all that long. Still, if he had these names to go on, maybe he could provide some clues and point Ptolemaeus in the right direction.
If he was fortunate enough to meet one, though, then what? The senshi hoped to talk to them if they would allow it; explain to them he was intrigued by their cause and methods. Perhaps he could get friendly with some. After all, that was how he'd met Richard, even if he hadn't realized the man was a member of the Negaverse at the time. And why would the organization have reason to fear a fellow agent of Chaos? It wouldn't be betrayal or a lie to say he wanted to learn more about them because Ptolemy truly did have an interest in others both as individual people and groups. He was almost never opposed to extra company, either, which made his invitations to join him and offers of his time entirely sincere. There would be no reason for them to find him suspicious, particularly if he spoke only on behalf of himself as a single entity rather than his court.
Of course there was that claim that the Negaverse had once tried to work with the White Moon in the past in order to exterminate the Dark Mirror Court. Ptolemaeus couldn’t have guessed why, and neither had his source, but this could have been a good opportunity to find out. If he got close enough to the Negaverse, he didn’t plan to betray anyone, exactly, but perhaps there was a way to negotiate for Scholomance’s ring. And if not, what was the worst they could do to him? Not corrupt him, from what he knew. And he highly doubted he could have been subjected to anything worse than what they had already inflicted on the Knight of Saturn. Whatever the case, he deemed it worth the effort to at least try.
It was early evening when the Dark Mirror Senshi perched upon a hotel roof and dialed the number given to him in the knight’s letter into a burner phone of his own. He wasn’t sure what would have been the best time to call or whether Scholomance kept his phone on him consistently in his powered and civilian life, but he had to start somewhere. After a few rings, he cheerfully spoke into the receiver, unsure if it was relaying his voice to an audial mailbox or directly to the person he was deliberately contacting, but acting as though it were the latter.
“Hello there, Beautiful. It’s Blue. I got your charming letter and handwriting be damned, you have a way with words, whether written or spoken. I was wondering whether you’d been lucky enough to find any action since we’d last spoken and if you were busy now.”
The day wore on at a crawl, and Isaiah spent the better part of the day behind the counter of his business. Vargas (rightfully) demanded his time off after an unduly busy Christmas season, and with powered tidings pulling Isaiah farther and farther from his joie de vivre, he found no better place to park himself. Transactions occurred with little fervor, and while he still retained his uncanny ability to express details about the pieces he sold, he no longer flirted with or chatted with the customers. Even as Mjolnir's words about impossibilities rang at the back of his mind, the clarion sound traveled too short to touch his current mood.
Isaiah trod home in the new snow, often tracing over steps pioneered by others. His leg ached more terribly in the last weeks than it had since the start of winter, and he knew why. He struggled to find reason for putting an end to it.
The sun bled its dying fingers across the horizon, and Isaiah hesitated to watch the lurid scene. All around him, he heard the evening bustle of day shifts ending and grocery shops beginning and mass migration and squealing tires and honking horns and lovers flirting and he felt untouched by the lot of it. Like ice, he thought in vague humor, I've just slid across the top of everything.
The sound of an unfamiliar phone ring failed to stir him until the accompanying vibration jostled his butt. Starting, Isaiah ducked into the nearest alleyway that permitted no curious prying. He rounded a dumpster, plugging his nose, and checked another alleyway for lurkers before he donned the familiar coat of bones. Only then did he deign to answer the call.
He caught the caller on the last ring, expected to say something in greeting, and found no words in his throat with which to answer. Instead, the caller carried the conversation. Scholomance stewed in his embarrassment while he listened. "Blue." He paused, smiled to no one but the walls around him. "Yes and no. I get offers, sometimes, occasionally the odd piece of advice from someone who's never faced this situation before, but…" What qualified as action, precisely.
He didn't know, but levity felt easier than solemnty. "No, I'm afraid not. I haven't gotten laid since I had two arms. Fancy that. Did you want to meet up? 'Discuss' some things? I hear tell that three tongue rings can be very persuasive."
A splash of laughter was elicited by the comment on piercings. Perhaps it was influenced by the odd joy the senshi felt at hearing the voice on the other end of the line, but his grin grew broader than he knew it could. “I’d say I was sorry to hear that, but I’d be lying since that means more for me.” He studied his metallic silver nails. “I would like nothing better than to meet up right now. Not sure what you think I need to be persuaded for, though. You’ve already got me curious wondering what three tongue rings tastes like. And what other secrets you’re keeping from me.”
The tattooed young man pushed himself to his feet. “Was there someplace in particular you wanted to meet? I’m at a hotel right now, but if you’ve got company, I’d imagine that might be awkward.”
Scholomance drew a breath and held it for a moment, then released it as a fog into the evening air. "Be serious. Don't tempt me so." While his tone remained light, Scholomance delivered deliberate implications in his statements. While he enjoyed the occasional sensual repartee, he loathed to endure baseless play now. "I'd tell you what they taste like, but that would be spoiling it." Briefly he thanked his workplace for his busy day; without a minute to smoke, Scholomance's breath no longer tasted of nicotine.
"I like hotels." Scholomance leapt and crested the adjacent parapet of an old coat factory. Wincing, he readjusted his heeled foot. His leg still protested the cold openly. "Which one are you at? I'm in the middle of the business district currently, but it's never far from a handful of seedy hotels. You there on business or pleasure?" Pleasure is my business.
And how did he expect to get there quickly? Zalmoxis proved a potent option, but he knew not how long he could maintain the summon. A minute, ten? Thirty? He never bothered to test it fully. If he had his signet ring, he supposed he could know…
Another reason to bury the pair of generals in the ground.
There was a brief bout of silence as Ptolemaeus’ lips parted slightly in astonishment. He licked his lips. “I’m always serious, Angel-face,” he responded more gently, recalling the knight’s self-depreciation during their last conversation. “I wouldn’t offer otherwise.”
The senshi stared thoughtfully out at the city view spread before him. “Looking forward to it. I’m at a place called ‘Sweet Repose’ and there’s a fairly decent restaurant on the first floor if you haven’t had dinner yet. I booked a room here for the night in case you feel like staying over. Not that I wouldn’t have offered my own place, but you seemed pretty adamant about not learning too much personal information last time we spoke.”
The corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “A bit of both, I guess, though I’ll admit I had the latter in mind more so than the former.” It’s a pleasure merely talking to you. “I wanted to ask your opinion privately on a certain plan I had regarding your...close friends, but it shouldn’t be too tedious, I hope. Would you like me to meet you part-way?”
"Oh, Sweet Repose. I know where that's at." Scholomance once spent an entire evening shooting back and forth between his business and the hotel in a desperate attempt to broker a deal. The private collector who stayed in the area only did so for one night - the woman was smart, and disliked putting her life at risk in a city no better than Detroit - so Isaiah pleaded desperate and burned the midnight oil for a chance at one of her less favored collection pieces. He never closed the deal, either. So much for repose.
Scholomance dragged bone heels against the tarmac to mitigate the pain of his hip. In case I feel like staying over? Damn, this is like all the payout of flirting with none of the effort. I like it. He hobble-walked toward the end of the building, where the view over the parapet offered a great expanse before the next building - and he knew that, even with the strength of a knight, he could not cross it himself. With the phone grasped carefully, he touched a pointer finger to the bone charms hanging from his crown. Soon, uncharacteristic mist unfurled and Zalmoxis stood at his side. It grunted, and Scholomance hoped the sound did not translate over the phone.
"It won't take me long to get there. I've got someone who will do the legwork for me. Be right out." He ended the call, moved the phone to his coat pocket and mounted the horse with some difficulty. Zalmoxis often proved easy to guide, and with a click of his teeth, the horse sailed over the gap between buildings. He could've crossed it, he knew, if Labyrinthite hadn't tried to take his leg off nearly a year ago.
The city passed beneath his summon's hooves easily. Soon, the pale horse brought the tall hotel into view, and Scholomance urged it toward the roof in stepwise fashion. Mist traveled behind them, and soon vaporized over the snow. Another building hopped, another ledge crested, and eventually Scholomance gained sight of the Mirror Senshi that he felt.
"Blue." The word was spoken gratefully, and Scholomance conveyed more meaning in his tone than in the word alone. Zalmoxis delivered him the handful of steps in closure. "This is, ah… This is Zalmoxis. He's not really a horse. It's…" His hand searched the air in spiral motions and found no words to compensate. "I'd explain it, but it's complicated." And dismounting, he knew, was similarly complicated. A pat to the horse's side and it crouched as much as it could. It would do, he figured, unless Blue wanted to help him out.
Despite the knight’s assurance that he had someone to ‘do the legwork for him’, Ptolemaeus began to wonder and then worry a little. Maybe it was a little far, but surely for a powered being, the journey shouldn’t have proved an obstacle, especially if he was already familiar with the place. The senshi thought he’d heard some strain in the other man’s tone earlier, too, and pondered if it was really just his missing arm giving him so much trouble or if there was more damage to his body than he let on. He didn’t look old enough to have acquired such aches and pains gradually, especially when his position as a managed knight was so much more probable as a cause. If he’d known, Ptolemy would have asked where Scholomance was first and sought him out before having picked a hotel.
The scout was just about to head toward where he thought might have been the business district of the city when he caught sight of a horse and rider appearing to float on mist. It took him a moment and recognition of the name ‘Blue’ to comprehend that one of the newcomers was his invited guest. The other must have been the companion who had helped assist his acceleration. Ptolemaeus chuckled when he was introduced.
“Zalmoxis, huh?” he repeated, impulsively reaching out to touch the creature’s side. “Fancy name. Did you choose it?” With a tilt of his head, he added, “Do all knights have a steed like yours? Or is that also complicated?” The Dark Mirror paused when Zalmoxis crouched before realizing what his rider was attempting to do and reached over to grip him by the waist. “Hope you don’t mind me getting a little handsy,” he cautioned with a sheepish smile as he did his best to lift Scholomance from his mount’s back.
"It is a fancy name, but it wasn't my choosing." Scholomance did not pause when Ptolemaeus touched his sides. He did not resist, either, and rested his arm on the taller senshi's shoulder during the dismount process. The Mirror Senshi's move proved useful without the need of asking for assistance; Scholomance grew tired of it after a time. "Zalmoxis was the name of my ancestor's last resurrection project. I didn't really know what else to call it.
"As far as I know, every knight's summons is different. I've seen three including my own." With each mention, he extended a finger. Inwardly he thanked his narrow experiences for not exceeding four. "One was a snow leopard belonging to a Mercury Knight. One was a caribou belonging to a Cosmos Knight. The last is what you see here. It begs the question of if summons are standardized across knighthood factions like aspects but I think that's probably false. The horse is mine, and I don't see anyone else going about fetching a summons in the same way. If they're even something you fetch." He dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. "But this is me going on tangents for miles.
"You said you had something you wanted to discuss?" He looked to the senshi, to the brilliant flecks of blue beneath his cheeks. Another touch of the bone charms from his crown and the horse unfurled in a temporary mist. Soon, nothing more remained to indicate his summons. "Or should we go pleasure first, then business?" He grinned and a few short clacks belied the tongue rings that he ran across false teeth.
”Was this guy your ancestor’s project, or did you just give it the same name?” he questioned, trying to imagine what the summons could have been if not the animals they appeared to be. Or perhaps merely Zalmoxis wasn’t what he seemed, though as likely magical creatures that knights could conjure up or call, he doubted it. “So not all of them can be ridden, I take it? Lucky you. And here I was beginning to suspect you’d gotten someone to carry you here.”
Instead of letting him go once the knight had dismounted, Ptolemaeus bent to try sliding an arm under the back of the other man’s knees before lifting with his legs. “Up we go. Tell me if it’s uncomfortable. I’d carry you on my back, but I don’t know how tricky it’d be for you to hold on that way.” He headed toward the entrance that lead to the stairs going indoors. “Business won’t take long. And it actually has something to do with pleasure, if you’d believe that.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he asked, “But aren’t you tired or at least hungry? I bet that restaurant on the first floor is still open.”
"He was my ancestor's project. Blaine built the horse out of… I didn't ask and I'm fairly certain I wouldn't want to know, but he had me help him complete the experiment. It felt very Frankenstein to be shocking an animal into life using the power of my Wonder. Weird stuff." He snorted at Blue's comment of hitching a literal ride on someone, and considered inwardly that the kinds of rides he enjoyed didn't often lead to reliable locomotion. Undoubtedly the senshi understood the double entendre.
The bridal carry proved unexpected enough that Scholomance floundered for a hold momentarily. The hood proved a viable handhold and he curled fingers into it to hoist his elbow up higher - then he could clutch the taller man's shoulder without hindrance. "I think I've been carried all kinds of ways now." Scholomance looked outward in the direction that Blue started, and he expected the senshi would deliver him to the dining area regardless. The thought caught in his chest, sticky and cold. He swallowed. "I can ride shoulders fine; I just figured you didn't want my nuts on the back of your neck." Scholomance failed to manifest a smile.
Of course, food came to mind with mixed results. Scholomance knew that he should eat, that he spent the last nine hours of rigorous activity without eating and that shoveling calories into his system proved beneficial both from a metabolism standpoint and a functional one. Old habits paved his distaste. "Tired, yes. I have a day job and all that. Hungry? Not so much. If you want to discuss this over food, you can." I'll stick with water.
While he lay in the grip of another, Scholomance tried to sit up enough to reach across himself for the empty sleeve of his uniform. He disliked the feel of its dangle, and if Ptolemaeus intended to walk into a dining hall looking as they did, then Scholomance preferred a more disguised position for the extra fabric. He seized the sleeve from where it hung and tucked its cuff inside his right coat pocket with some difficulty. It would suffice, he supposed.
“Ancestors...so knights have past lives too?” the younger male inquired. “Huh. Makes me wonder if it’s the same for the Negaverse. Or even us Dark Mirrors.” His cheeks were starting to hurt from how hard he was grinning, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “I didn’t realize you could still talk to them, these ancestors of yours. Or that you had the power to create life, Wonder or not.” Ptolemaeus gazed ahead distantly as he opened the door and descended the first set of stairs.
He turned down the corridor into a hall lined with doors and passed the elevators without so much as a glance toward them. He didn’t halt until he had reached a particular room, and even then, the pause was only brief enough to allow him to pull a key card from a pocket and slip it into the designated slot. With a consensual blink of green, the lock opened and Ptolemy leaned his elbow down on the door handle while pressing against the door itself.
The heavy barrier gradually gave way, eventually retreating enough so the senshi could enter and allow it to swing shut behind him. He carefully continued toward the large double bed where he briefly spared an arm to pull back the covers before setting his captive down on the clean, newly-exposed sheets. “Mind me asking what you mean by ‘all kinds of ways?’” he hazarded, his smile softened but no less mirthful. “As for riding, I’d be fine with anything of yours on whatever of mine, so that’s not a problem. You’d only need ask.”
The Dark Mirror found himself feeling somewhat anxious about coming on too strong which was odd and unfamiliar because he rarely cared what anyone else thought of him. Nevertheless, he couldn’t hold back the urge to lean over so that he could access the knight’s ear, flicking out his tongue to lightly lick its interior. “My meal’s right here,” followed a faint whisper.
Scholomance filled the travel time with as much information as he could readily recall. In exchange, Blue navigated the corridors and managed the stairs without beating the knight against any hard surfaces in the process. "Yes, knights have past lives. I expect that anything with an analogue to Knights or White Moon senshi may have a past life too, but I can't prove it - I've met very few who have actually crossed faction lines. The one I know - a Saturn Knight by the name of Ploutonion, now Ashanite of the Negaverse - had a past life. Theoretically, if the analogue for a Negaverse senshi was a White Moon senshi, and the analogue for a Negaverse agent was a Knight, then the whole of the Negaverse faction has past lives. It's just a theory, however. I don't know enough about the Dark Mirror -- wait... " Scholomance chewed one of his tongue rings while he planned his phrasing.
"I met someone. She was a senshi for quite a long time, I believe, because she was around before the Dark Mirror Court came to be. She said that the death of a cadet paved the way for the Blood Moon Court - a splinter faction of the White Moon Court - to become the court you call home. So even if there's no preexisting ancestor or past life for you now, there must've been one for the Dark Mirror senshi who came from the White Moon." He wondered, then, if the Court manufactured senshi out of people who could not previously manifest such power, and if the Negaverse acted similarly for their agents. If that were the case, then the theory of past lives existing for anyone was debunked.
Scholomance caught a glance of himself in the stainless steel doors they passed, and the blur of blue dissipated without a single discernible detail. To the general public, he gathered, they looked like a whorl of black and blue with a few bones added for good measure. "My wonder doesn't create life, by the way. I expect the experiment with Zalmoxis is closer to using electricity to power a computer. I think… I can't promise it's true, but creation of life might require the creation of a starseed, too. If I was a Negaverse agent, I'd check by popping my hand into my cat's chest, but she's been through enough."
Finally, after some uncomfortable maneuvers at the door to the hotel room, Blue earned them entry into the suite. The decor spoke of the blanket neutrality utilized by all hotel companies, urging a surfeit of beiges paired with dark woods for that splash of sorely needed color. Even the bed stood smothered under white blankets and sheets, with only their texture as a delineating factor between them. As Ptolemaeus left him to the bed, Scholomance felt the spinous processes of his coat digging into his back. "If I have to ask, I'm doing it wrong." Scholomance pulled the half-mask from his mouth and started on the buttons to his coat, but found them much too finicky for his mediocre dexterity.
He felt the hot press of tongue to his conch, and turned more fully to his company. "How about a trade." He spared no time for confirmation - instead, the knight seized a fistful of loose cloth to bring Blue closer, and caught lips in an open kiss.
The information about the Blood Moon Court having stemmed from the White Moon and transformed into the Dark Mirror intrigued Ptolemaeus and he was sorely tempted to ask the name of the senshi who had told Scholomance of their origins. He had suspected as much about the corrupt senshi of the Negaverse being paralleled with the White Moon’s, but he hadn’t realized that Negaverse agents were essentially corrupted Knights. The more he learned, though, the more questions sprang to mind - why were there no Dark Mirror Knights? How did the Blood Moon Court turn into the Dark Mirror and what did the cadet’s death have to do with it? When he mentioned a cat, did he mean a Guardian Cat? Ptolemy had assumed they only aided senshi. And what did he mean by the creation of a starseed? They could be created?
They had spent the majority of their last encounter conversing, though, and Ptolemaeus didn’t feel much like simply talking just then. His breath hitched when he was forcefully drawn by the grip on his uniform, the action completely catching him off-guard. He shut his eyes for a moment, immersing himself in the ecstasy of their intimate contact, and was about to press forward with the muscular organ of his mouth that begged entrance when he reminded himself of something and exercised self-restraint with all the will he could muster just then.
He drew back a few inches to regard the knight’s face, reaching out a tentative hand to cradle the side of it. “When I said you needed to ask,” he said breathily, as if the kiss had robbed him of all his air, “I didn’t mean for permission; I meant to give me some notice since I can’t read your mind. Although,” he continued, eyeing the dark-haired knight with an amused look, “evidently you’re not much for that, either. Why are you giving me so much information, Angel-face? Don’t you normally charge for all this?”
Ptolemaeus ended the kiss before Scholomance could establish some of his longstanding skill in carnal communications. Scholomance felt his skin prickle at the touch to his face; encounters like these proved far too few in the last few months and left him starved for these attentions. He did not retract far from the other man; a breath's space remained between them for close conversation. As Blue spoke, Scholomance searched his features from their uniquely close proximity. His senshi companion did not thread his eyebrows as Scholomance often did, but Blue also had natural beauty to compensate - a cupid's bow on full lips, a nose with just enough ethnic character to be unobtrusive against smooth, androgynous cheeks. "I'll make demands," he conceded simply.
"You're right. I normally charge." On a whim, Scholomance sought to graze false teeth on the warm skin of his company's neck. The choker barred some access, but such accessories were easily removed with a swift tongue. He continued to speak in fleeting breaks between nipping kisses. "I'm already getting paid." He paused with lips pressed to skin, searching for gooseflesh. "You're going to help me with those generals. Besides, this information is easy." Another kiss, and teeth closed slowly against supple skin. "Besides, it's not like I'm giving away secrets."
No, he knew the fallout from that practice. The prices he charged seldom covered that cost - especially with a permanent reminder of a retraction from the deal. The thought of it soured his mood somewhat, so he abstained from further ministrations until Ptolemaeus got the rest of his questions out of his system. Straightening, Scholomance surveyed the man with a carefully neutral gaze.
The knight’s thirst for physical intimacy was almost palpable to the senshi. How could it not be when he himself was almost constantly starving for it? But he had to remain at bay for the time being lest they start drowning so deeply in each other that there was no more air for a single coherent word. He most definitely wasn’t used to being the one holding back which made it particularly difficult, but with a tremendous amount of effort, he thought he might have been able to hold on a little longer.
While Scholomance’s statement that he would make demands sent enough shivers down the olive-tanned young man’s spine, what really made the hackles stand up on the back of his neck was the sudden graze of teeth against the skin of his throat. He made an involuntary sound that was part whimper, part moan, but abruptly cut himself off by deliberately biting his lower lip. He still had words to speak before he became completely unintelligible. “About...about those generals…” he managed to push out through gritted teeth. “I’m going to...need help practicing my plan...if it has any hope of succeeding. Ahh - !” Ptolemaeus bit down another unintentional noise as he was nipped, but not before part of it managed to escape him.
He panted when his companion finally let up a little, considering his mental and physical state of being. It was no good. This wasn’t the way to go about things. Not unless he somehow managed to develop a will of steel, but hedonistic as he was, he’d never been one to deny himself his pleasures for prolonged amounts of time. “I...I thought if I could learn how to get friendly with them...they would...talk,” the senshi explained, examining the angular structure of the other man’s high cheekbones. “...assuming I have more self-control with them than I do you. Which is usually the case.” Ptolemaeus managed a defiant smirk, a few beads of sweat already condensing on his brow. “But if I can resist you, I could probably resist anyone.”
Scholomance discerned the audible cues that Blue wasn't done with the conversation. As much as his nature urged him to tease, Scholomance sat back against his arm, which acted like a buttress for balancing and support. His expression grew serious under the consideration for Ptolemaeus' request. Practice resisting the Negaverse? Did he fully understand what that meant?
"My experiences and yours are going to be very different. I approached the Negaverse as a business affiliate. You're approaching them as a friend? I'm not sure I can help you; I'm no agent myself. If I had to guess easy agents to cozy up to… Ashanite, perhaps. Though…" He shifted. In rolling his sore shoulder, the low pop proved audible and he made a face at it. "If your definition of friendliness is getting into their pants, I'm not sure who you could practice on. I try not to sleep with business partners." Try became the operative word.
The knight's libido cooled somewhat at the broach of this conversation. In some ways, he wondered if planning against the two generals only contributed to their interpersonal wealth - if, by skulking about for some Negaverse friends, Ptolemaeus may get himself pinned down in a similar fashion or repurposed to suit Negaverse needs. Scholomance knew better than to voice these thoughts; worry often occurred out of a vacuum and he lacked the experience with Dark Mirror senshi to know how the Negaverse would react. He wished, then, that if they must converse, he could redirect the conversation back to the fantastical origins of the differing factions.
The easy road provided no solutions, however.
"What's your plan?" Scholomance inquired directly. Eye contact remained steadfast.
The young man snickered softly as Scholomance began to compare their experiences. He allowed him to finish before replying, partially diverting his attention to the buttons on the knight’s coat that he had been attempting to undo earlier, freeing them slowly, one by one, as he spoke. “I don’t mean through verbal advice, Sweetheart. And I know I said ‘friend’, but that doesn’t entirely encompass what I had in mind. Are you saying we’re business partners, then?” he asked, calmly finishing the last of the buttons. “They might have the same policy, but my policy is that all things are changeable, which means anything is possible if you go about it in the right way.”
He exhaled deeply as he lay himself down on the bed beside the knight, folding his arms behind his head. “If I get close enough to them in whatever way, I figured I might be able to negotiate for your ring. If it turns out to be more difficult than just asking and I don’t have anything they want, all I have to do is to obtain something of value to them; something like an important possession of theirs that might have mysteriously misplaced.” Ptolemaeus lifted a leg to rest atop his companion’s. “Do you think that’s unwise? As I am now, I figured it’d be more pointless to try fighting them head-on. Not much of a fighter, even with my magic.” He gingerly curled in his calf and rotated more on his side to link his limb with Scholomance’s.
"No, I wouldn't call you a business partner. Person of Interest, maybe." Scholomance chewed one of his tongue rings. As Ptolemaeus worked, Scholomance felt the tightness in his coat relax, and soon the double-breast parted from beneath the half-cage. At last, the knight could shrug away some of the bone accoutrements that unnerved him so. "So what's this plan you need to practice? You're leaving me hanging."
Once Scholomance worked his arm from the sleeve of his coat, peeling away the rest of the outer layer demanded less effort. Really, the greatest difficulty came with scooting off of the long train and pushing the lot of it to the floor, where it lay in an unceremonious heap. Bone poked out from the mess and formed a morbid caricature of a skeleton ensconced in old clothes. Beyond it, the knight now sat in a billowing shirt that barely clung to his shoulders. The cream cloth remained tucked into the dark trousers that often disappeared beneath his ornate coat. Briefly he considered taking his shoes off, but knew not how far he might push his outfit before his power started to falter.
Blue captured his leg regardless, and Scholomance allowed him to take such a hostage. Were he of better condition, Scholomance would've reciprocated with further entwining; doing so now meant sitting up or forsaking balance altogether. Instead, he wound their legs together enough that his ankle crossed over the top of his companion's. He looked to Blue then, and Scholomance's two long wefts of hair reached outward by the crook of his shoulder. "I think there's some considerations you should take with that. By virtue of negotiating for the ring, you're revealing both your knowledge of my circumstances and your relationship with me. Well, maybe not so much the latter if you spin your story out in such a way that they think we're antagonistic of each other.
"It's definitely pointless to fight them head-on," Scholomance conceded. His focused passed through his companion then, and reached for memory. "It's always a risk, and stating so is a little obvious. Your plan might just work, however. People are pretty gullible." His focus returned to the now, and he schooled his expression carefully. "Including me."
He gazed at the coat under Scholomance as he shrugged more of it off, wondering vaguely just how much clothing would have been safe for him to remove before his civilian identity was in danger of being found out. “I need to practice resisting you,” he teased. “But if I don’t have a decent taste of you first, it won’t be as much of a challenge.”
The senshi sat up partially, his leg still tangled, and reached over to try helping the knight get rid of his most obstructive article of clothing. He hungrily eyed the way the other man’s billowing dress shirt underneath almost seemed to drip down his chest. “That was the plan,” he declared, not budging his gaze an inch as he did so. “You’re Order and I’m Chaos. It shouldn’t be too hard for them to believe I’d run into you before and had a bone to pick with you.” The pun had been unintended, but it caused Ptolemaeus to smirk just the same. “As for knowledge of your circumstances, lots of Negaverse people know, right? I’ll just tell them I heard it from a friend of mine in their organization.
“Yeah, well life isn’t much fun without risks and sometimes you have to do seemingly pointless things to feel alive,” he countered. “I’m glad you seem optimistic about it, though.” The knight’s inclusion of himself in his statement resulted in a soft laugh from the Dark Mirror. He closed his eyes, still grinning, and leaned down to touch his forehead against the other man’s. “You said you would make demands,” Ptolemy reminded him. “So tell me, how do you want to do this?”
"Ah, so that's what this is about." Resistance proved its own inimitable game, and Scholomance enjoyed it for the unique challenges it provided. He wondered, though - how much difficulty could he pile onto the other man before he capitulated? "Usually they call it edging, not resistance. Or peaking, really. Alright, if that's the game you want to play…"
Scholomance rolled to lay between the other man's legs, where he could pool an arm across Ptolemaeus' midriff and rest his chin upon the bony peaks. Hazel eyes drew upward past the loose black fabrics of the Mirror Senshi. "You're right, you've got a good setup there. I couldn't say either way about the Negaverse's knowledge of me; on one hand, I would think the lot of them knew. On the other, I could see little splinters wanting to keep that information to themselves. Much of the Negaverse has a sense of ambition about them; I'm sure it could be used for something." I know I didn't pick the right venue for it.
He lifted his head, and a brush of fingers rippled the fuku fabrics upward, exposing lean muscle. His dotted tongue traced a quick path between navel and hip, where the balls of his tongue rings applied uneven pressure across the skin. He stopped only when his teeth found shallow bone and teased it accordingly. His lone hand found the senshi's opposite hip to equalize the sensation. As he spoke, breath rolled across the skin. "Of course. For my first demand, I want you to sit still. For my second, I want your brooch."
At least this way we don't have to discuss my purported optimism.
Strickenized
((FTB~))
