WickedCadrach

Not Guilty. It feels like the idea is better than the reality. Also, I have no poker face, so I'd be sipping my coffee like The next person has a particular scent that always turns them on.

golden boy

Gotcha. Yeah, Robin doesn't have anywhere to stop. She might anxiously check her phone since she still hasn't heard from Charlotte, but she wouldn't stop off anywhere. I'll let @DreamsnThings chime in if she has an idea.

Originally, yes. Velvet planned on stopping off somewhere with Robin, but I think we ended up chewing the scene a bit longer on the heart (which I love) and haven't gotten there. @DreamsnThings I'm happy to follow your lead here, if you still want to do a little something in the Hotness thread before we get to the party. Otherwise, I think we could show up looking hot and bad and with 'an energy' between Robin and Velvet that hasn't fully resolved yet.

*unnerving cello slowly plays behind silent cuts between Dylan in the basement, Selene's mounting worry, and Velvet and Robin's intense closeness. The only sound is the dull strike of the chisel hitting the table, growing faster with each moan from the cello*

Robin listened, her lips pinching together against the waves of emotion rocking between the two girls as her pale eyes glimmered in the starlight. Velvet's cool had collapsed, and now, in a state more vulnerable than she'd ever seen her, Robin heard the honest admission of how Velvet had expected this to fail... how she'd expected Robin to run away. And it broke her heart. Reaching up tenderly, Robin's thumb caressed the black tear trailing mascara down Velvet's cheek, stopping it and wiping it away and drying it with a little dab of white jacket sleeve, the dark makeup blossoming in a penny-sized stain on the cuff. In a whisper meant only for the other girl's ears, Robin said, "No matter what happens, I will always be your friend." And sliding her arms over Velvet's shoulders, Robin sank into an hug, pulling Velvet against her and squeezing, her fingers bunching the white T-shirt at the back before releasing it to rest her open palms against her instead. She lay in that hug long enough to feel the chill of the night breeze on her legs again—despite the summer heat, the wind off the sea always held a touch of the cold depths behind it. And as Robin hugged Velvet tightly, she began to rub the other girl's back. But it seemed as much as she held her and caressed her, she couldn't get the other girl warm. Robin didn't know what this meant or where it was going—not really. She knew that she'd been so terrified of being seen as a lesbian that she'd never stopped to consider whether she may actually be one. She knew she liked boys. She knew her feelings about Derek and the way she thought about Dylan while lying in her bed were real. But so was this. These feelings clinging to Velvet, feeling her softness and kindness... feeling the expression of the other girl's affection against her skin... this was all real too. Didn't she owe it to Velvet to at least... see...? It wasn't like she was actually with anyone else... not right now. The God she had believed in loved the world... didn't she at least have enough love to spare for Velvet? It was confusing, but Robin decided in that moment, no matter how confusing it was, she wasn't going to run from her friend. She wouldn't hide or turn her back on Velvet. Not for anything. Slowly releasing the hug, Robin smiled and pushed a bit of Velvet's dark hair out from her eyes, admiring the way the purple dye caught the moonlight. "Do you... still feel like going to the party?" Robin asked shyly. "I-if you wanted to... maybe talk...? Maybe talk a little more, I'd be ok with that. We can be a little late. But I think we should get out of Sam and Lizzie's driveway."

Aww, thanks! And I love the Velvet panic, it's incredibly cute and the underlying tension of whatever her arrangement is with Mr. Ascars is just winding in the background like this rubberband I'm expecting to snap back at any second. ❤

Totally. When age-appropriate, they can be a lot of fun. (Or even when not age-appropriate, apparently)

I just remembered the time a friend of mine ordered what he thought was a 'beginner box' for Dungeons & Dragons (he wanted to try hosting a game), and it turned out to be a board game version intended for 7-year-olds. And then we made him run it anyway. Not the worst 40 minutes I've had in an RPG

No worries! Have a happy Easter! ❤

Dylan is going to get a level up before we even reach the party, and I'm here for it. Also very excited to see when all the rejection and impotent rage will finally make them crack.

That actually makes so much sense. I do wonder how Billy would react to that (not to mention Selene and Charlotte).

I don't know if Selene or Charlotte want to be rescued from Billy Bongwater, but as a player, I'm sitting here like: "Dylan, please get these girls away from Billy Dongwater before someone catches something."

Guilty. They aren't the only movies I see, but they are the easiest to get other people to see with you... or at least they were. I haven't seen one in a theater since Endgame. And actually... Is a drive-in theater a cinema? I might technically be not guilty, but I'm not doing the math. The next person hasn't seen a movie in a theater in over a year.

Guilty. Never been called a crotchety old fuck. I even double-checked in the mirror and everything. Next person had a trading-card phase (might still be in it).

"Right on time, Ya," Emily called back, feeling a wash of relief through her limbs at Captain Payarkoon's voice on the comms and again as the eruption of kaiju blood drew a furious roar and the full ire of the beast onto Patune. Emily felt the stomach-dropping sense of freefall as Scylla launched herself from the kaiju's broad back, spinning in a coil of tentacles as she tucked and hit the earth in a roll that sent cascades of wet dirt showing up under her claws. Moving evasively, Emily tried to keep the feisty BioFrame out of the kaiju's periphery as she allowed it to be drawn by Patune's shot. Inside the cockpit, Emily felt her heart racing, her skin tingling as Scylla's connecting tentacles, large and small, vibrated with the relief of being able to focus on just one task again, coming back into synch with her pilot. Emily smirked as the tendril latched onto her clit hummed and coiled, drawing a soft grunt from her as well as an appreciative nip at the fold of sensitive flesh in front of her face. "That's it, girl. Let's take that drone." Emily's fingers joined her tongue, feeling the slick, viscous neurofluid against her lips and in her mouth as she lost herself in the shared sense of Scylla's sophisticated sensors. The sweet, heady smell mingled with the ambient feeling of the drone's wireless—like a note of music she could faintly hear in the open air. And joining her in the effort, Scylla purred, and the thick black tentacle coiled around Emily's thigh squirmed higher. She felt its tip sliding through the boy-cut shorts she wore under her rugged pants, edging toward the glistening softness where the tendril on her clit throbbed and caressed her. A moment later, the tentacle pressed to her folds, slipping up between them and nestling in a prehensile curl as it teased the pink ring of her pussy's entrance. Emily felt her body on fire with anticipation, the intimate connection playing out in physical space as much as it did in the buzzing ether of the wireless simspace where they picked apart the drone's defenses together. Scylla's tentacle pushed forward, and with only a momentary resistance, it sank into the warmth of her core. Emily let out a cracked gasp, her back stiffening as her toes curled in her boots. The twisting tentacle's tip circled her insides, riding the bumpy walls of her cunt as it corkscrewed in delicious slowness against the bundle of nerves inside her. And with each pulse of that electric pleasure, Emily felt her senses overlap with the BioFrames, becoming one as she felt herself melting with the mix of neurofluid and her own lubricating nectar. //Rolling Stealth to get away from the kaiju without drawing its attention. 5 = (roll -1, 0, +1, +1) + (Stealth +2) + (Slippery as an Eel / 1 Fate Point + 2)// //Rolling Burglary for the hacking attempt. -2 = (roll -1, -1, -1, 0) + (Burglary +1) // //I would like to propose a Stunt: Mek-Hax. Putting all Emily and Scylla's focus together on hacking, they trade off defense and awareness for more powerful hacking ability. +X to a single roll to hack a mech, drone, frame, or computer/electronic system for -X to Fight, Shoot, and Notice until the hack succeeds or is abandoned. If the Stunt is acceptable, I'd toss all 4 points on to give it a net +2 in exchange for -4 penalties, as described//

I'm going to rely on the MC to give Robin some hell when we get to this party. For now, she can have seven minutes in heaven with Velvet.

A long moment hung between them as summer air rustled the grass and a sea bird screamed somewhere in the moonlit darkness. Small strands of Robin's dark braid, caressed free on the wind's gentle fingers, curled across her face before being tucked behind her ear in a shy, thoughtful motion. It felt as if the entire world was holding its breath and waiting for her answer to Velvet's confession. The kind words and the quiet vulnerability in Velvet's expression as she spoke them made Robin's eyes narrow as she felt the hot threat of a sudden, silent tear that wanted to escape over her pale cheek. She had been in chapels and seen boys and girls alike with similar faces as they confessed their shameful secrets in 'come to Jesus' moments, surrendering themselves up to the forgiveness of their peers and the mercy of their God. It was a sight that never failed to stir her in the past... one that did not fail to stir her in its new form here... There was something holy in what Velvet did, something brave and awe-inspiring in her honesty... in her surrender to whatever fate Robin handed back to her. But even as the thought crossed her mind, Robin's heart folded and one of those threatened tears broke free in a quick race across her cheek. Because what Velvet described as 'like', Robin saw as 'love', a purer, truer form of love that wasn't hindered or constrained by shape or form or what's 'below someone's belt' as Velvet put it. But it was also the sort of love that her church had told her in no uncertain terms was 'unholy', 'impure', 'abomination'... that it was a love that God hated. As a second tear spilled, something cracked inside Robin, something that Velvet had helped loosen in her all through this night. A hymn rose out of memory telling her that 'God is Love', but Robin rejected it, shunting the echo of the memory from her brain in a moment of mental violence that made her neck tense and her hands tremble. She surged forward, closing the space that she had made edging away from Velvet moments before. Her palms cupped the sad smile, framing those black lips that were darker than the new moon. Her lips pressed to Velvets, urgent if a little clumsy. Her fingers cold, the tear on her cheek met Velvet's and finished its journey on the edge of her soft jaw. And Robin once again smelled that scent like far off fires in the night mingled with honey, tasting echoes of the same as her lips parted and she invited Velvet's tongue to hers. And as she surrendered to the kiss, giving herself what she craved... giving Velvet what she wanted in the same moment, Robin's heart made room for a new hymn, no longer whispering that 'God is Love'. Now it sang softly, 'Love is God'. And when their lips parted, Robin whispered. "You're not just practice. You are beautiful, and you are just as good a person–no, you're a better person than me."

*Claps and points* She gets it. ❤

Didn't feel short at all. It felt sweet and lovely, and now I'm wrestling between what makes sense and explores Robin's struggles and the part of my brain screaming 'kiss her!!!!'

Robin found it easy to give small, reflexive sounds of agreement to Velvet's warnings about boys who would always want more. While her mother had never been that 'blunt' about what it meant, she was well acquainted with the subtext of Little Red Riding Hood. Robin was also aware that her father's sharp attention to her clothing and hair growing up was not simply from an over-exuberant sense of Christian modesty, and her sense of men had been—for better or worse—been filtered by her father's assessment that they were, to the extreme, incapable of restraining their baser instincts. In the moment, a quiet part of Robin noted her own lack of restraint for her 'baser instincts' as she planted another kiss on Velvet's soft neck, feeling the pulse of the other girl's artery as she did. It was true that she had permission here... this was 'practice' after all... just girlfriends helping each other out. But that small part of Robin still wondered if perhaps this, this desire to press, to kiss, to taste and smell... if this was what it was like to be a boy. If she were a boy, would Velvet still be reacting the same way? Would she be hot like Robin felt, unraveling in her skin and feeling that warm, melting feeling deep, deep inside? If this was the natural state of a man, a state that was birthright to them and forbidden fruit to her, then there truly was no justice in nature. But that wasn't what Velvet had said. No, Velvet had expected this, told her it was natural and encouraged her that she ought to feel sexy and hot and— These were the thoughts that abruptly came to a halt as Velvet said something Robin hadn't expected. "What?" Robin said, blinking as she stepped back far enough to meet Velvet's eyes, looking between them in confusion. But she didn't really need it repeated. She had heard what Velvet said: I am bisexual. Honestly, I have had a mild crush on you. Velvet was gay. A lesbian. Robin forced her eyes closed a moment as misappropriated vocabulary engraved in her mind by rote repetition from a pulpit and youth group folding chairs fought with the snippets of more progressive terms stolen from dramas streamed on her laptop in secret. Bi. Two. Velvet liked boys and girls. As Robin's mind scrambled for a handhold in a situation that had gone from strange to truly alien, the appearance of the pink jeep only seemed to complement the surreal feeling that had settled on her. "Wait... You like me? You have a crush on... me?" Some of the residue of her church upbringing tried to tell her things like this didn't happen. It wasn't real. Velvet was just playing a prank—taking a roundabout route to masturbation via a lie to Robin about feelings that— No! Robin didn't believe that. As she stood facing the goth girl, her heart drumming in her chest, she didn't believe for one second that Velvet was lying or manipulating her. The beautiful woman wearing grinning skulls on her clothing had only helped her... She'd listened to Robin, walked her through her confusion... She'd drawn Robin to places she had never been before—places as beautiful and dangerous as her guide. But was this really Robin? She'd spend nights twisting in her bedsheets, wondering what Dylan's arms would feel like around her. She wondered what Derek's lips tasted like more than once, and his invitation to the party felt like a gift from God... a sign she was supposed to take. So why did she want to kiss Velvet's black, midnight lips so badly? Why did she want to feel her fingers on her bare skin again? The turmoil was coiling in her stomach tighter and tighter; she could feel it wringing the blood from her, making her fingers cold as she fidgeted beside the jeep. "I... I don't know what to say..." Robin said quietly, looking off into the night with a distraught look on her face. "I just–I thought we were practicing, Velvet." The summer air ghosted over her bare legs like the phantoms of dead fires, and Robin found herself edging anxiously toward the car. "Wh-what do you want me to say to that? Now that I know it was real for you..." She didn't finish, but in her mind, Robin silently added, How do I know if it was real for me?

Oh, that's going to be fun to unpack ❤ I am sadly out of time today, but looking forward to replying to that tomorrow.

"...and they were never seen again..." No, I'm actually loving this. Robin's going to look for Dylan at this party and see them emerge in a cloud of smoke from the side of a van with an airbrushed wizard on it.

Robin's eyes flared open and she let out a little squeak of surprise as she was lifted in Velvet's shockingly strong grip, her hands scrambling for support on the other girl's shoulders. Even as she was given the warning, her arms wrapped around her gothic guide's head for balance, the ring of her bandeau top brushing Velvet's cheek before she was resettled low enough for Velvet's dark lips to kiss her blushing throat. "Oh, r-right," Robin said, "I guess that makes sense." She didn't quite see why a guy would randomly pick her up at a pool party—even as Velvet gave the explanation that college boys would use the excuse to touch her butt and put their faces to her chest, it all seemed so brazen and hedonistic that it felt more like a lie to prank the 'new girl' than something that could actually happen to her. At Velvet's behest, Robin's slim legs curled around her hips. The bikini, which had seemed small to begin with, now felt like it was losing its tenuous grip over her cheeks, making room for Velvet's palms, and the sensation of being held made her anxiety melt into a sort of nervous giddiness. It was playful and sensual all at once, and the small movements of Velvet's fingers—the dark nails tracing the pale flesh of her bottom—added to the kindling warmth that she felt low in her pelvis. "Oh, my god... Velvet... Can you imagine? Wh-what if Dy-What if Derek picks me up like this?" It was hard to imagined Dylan doing anything so brash and forward, but it had been her first thought. However, it wasn't this first thought that made her look away, the whites of her teeth showing as a smile broke out. It was the second thought, the one that told her Dylan seemed more the sort to ask her to walk with him under starlight... to lie down in the grass or in the white sands of the shore... Trying to follow Velvet's direction, Robin leaned back, her hands held behind Velvet's neck, and she pressed her waist tight to Velvet's stomach, holding on with her knees. But as she was carried, every step the curvier girl took rubbed against the front of her bikini. Even the small, incidental contact felt indecent and Robin fidgeted as her ingrained nature pleaded with her to let go and step down. But that Robin wasn't in charge right now. No, the new Robin, the one Velvet had given permission to exist, was giving the orders—and that Robin told her to hook her ankles at the small of Velvet's back, holding tight in spite of that soft pressure against her sex—no, because of it. Her dark braid bounced over her shoulder as Robin leaned forward again, her fingers feeling the bare line of Velvet's back as they traced over her white t-shirt. Velvet was showing her so much, but Robin felt as if she was still simply standing outside the door looking in. And she wouldn't ever be in—not unless she took that first step. Hesitantly, barely moving at all. Robin's lips hovered over Velvet's neck, below her ear. They brushed the skin, still and unmoving as her nervous breath ghosted over the smooth, sweet smelling surface. Then, closing her eyes, Robin pressed her lips forward. Slow and unsteady, she began to move them in a tentative pulling motion... then pushing... exploring what it meant to actively move her lips against another person—to give attention and not simply receive it. The walk to Velvet's car was not as long as Robin would have thought and as they reached it, she slipped down from the other girl's grip feeling the sort of vibration that usually only ran through her body when she'd had entirely too much coffee. "Wow, that was..." But she didn't have the words. Instead, gripping her elbow, Robin squirmed where she stood, her heel kicking out as one leg twisted on the ball of her foot. "I-Is there something you do–or–or say to, um, to get a guy to pick you up? Like that?"

Jumping at the first sign. Definitely.