[Fury] The Admiralty (Aug 5.1)

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August,

Admiral leads you out of the skybox and back into the Yacht Club. He gives a nod to Valentine who doesn't acknowledge it, ze is so busy settled debts and wagers. Needle is there, with Ivar, too, a throng around them at the bar, shouting and showing their chits and arguing for their safecoins.

The rain continues on the roof, beating down on the metal outside, the

The hardholder leaves Valentine to zir work, heading towards his VIP room. Have you ever been in this posh place, the finest suite in all of Safeco?

Admiral
Admiral opens the door, gestures for you to enter. "Would you like a drink, August?"

What do you do?

Comments

  • edited November 2015
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    I haven't been here before. But often wondered why not.

    "Whatever you're having," I reply, leaning against the wall just inside the door. I watch the way Admiral regards his own belongings, the way he's decorated. I look for what possessions he truly values, not just the ones he puts on display.

    My body is still tingling with endorphins from watching Dog in the arena. She made me proud today. Me and all the Arrows.
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    August,

    This VIP room's in pristine shape, a big king-sized bed in the side room, a nice work station here, looks like he uses it for multi-purpose. The east wall is covered with full maps of the area and tacks in hot spots, areas marked by red and green. Admiral also has a ledger, and quite a few electronic devices.

    He walks over to the counter by his small kitchenette, gets a fancy bottle filled with amber liquid. The view from his room is of the arena, behind bulletproof glass. Nothing but mud and drizzles of bloody rain out there. He pours two glasses of the stuff, walks over to hand one to you.

    It's obvious he treasures whatever is in that locked gun safe that takes up a few feet of the wall near the window, and there's a door to a couple smaller rooms that is closed, might have other treasures.

    Admiral holds up his glass, waits for a toast from his storyteller.

    What do you do?
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    I relinquish the wall and stalk over to the table. I pick up my glass, give the liquor an appreciative sniff and entwine my arm with Admiral's. I lock eyes with him too. "To victory, to great leaders and to seizing the moment." My toast is solemn, but direct. I sip or throw it back, following Admiral's lead.

    I insinuate myself further within his arms, regardless. "What's next for you, Admiral? Build your walls higher? Reclaim more of the city? Lure more and more innocent maidens to your bed?" The last is said self-deprecatingly -- we both know that I am no innocent.
  • Admiral
    Admiral meets your glass and drinks a long, slow sip, savoring the alcohol like a connoisseur. "Today's gambit will help secure the perimeter around Safeco. When the rain clears, my outside gang will head out to finish off the Tax Patrol. With the big raider gang down, Vignette and I can offer terms to the others. Safeco will keep Pike secure, and Pike's market will open up to Safeco."

    It's a simple and short-ranged plan, August. Feels like maybe there's more, but Admiral's seeing if that's enough to suit you. He is quite pleased to have you in his arms, though. That is for certain.

    What do you do?
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    "A solid plan," I say. "I am not surprised to be in such good hands." The sound of the rain on the windows is that strange mix of comforting white noise and insistent, like in the stories of dead men, when they rise from the ground scratch away at your door. Until they have you.

    I shake off that feeling. Tap into the exultant rush that Dog's victory gave me.

    I put my glass down, mostly untouched aside from that one sip. I begin to undo the buttons of Admiral's shirt. "I hope you won't be offended if I tell you that I didn't come here to listen to you talk." I find the last button, take Admiral's drink from his hands and pull the shirt from his shoulders. I hand the liquor back with a smile.

    I run my hands across his chest -- such different bodies, Admiral's and Bon's. One smooth, taut, marked with the lives of those she bears witness to. The other broader, dusted with surprising blonde hair, punctuated with constellations of freckles instead of ink.
  • Admiral
    Admiral watches your hands as you button his shirt, lets you manage the action with your prosthetic and patiently waits. "I'm not easily offended, August." His body is strong from years of labor and training, hands accustomed to holding weapons now rest on your hips. He leans in for another kiss, his passion growing, hunger building. "I want you, August. I want you like I haven't wanted a woman in a very long time."
  • edited November 2015
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    "Show me," I say in return.

    I've wondered before, what Admiral would be like as a lover. He's certainly made it clear that he desires me, or more than a handful of occasions. But he's always shown an unfortunate restraint.

    I think about just taking this time for pleasure. But the lure of that between-place is too strong. I know that when push comes to scrog, I won't shy away from letting my mind go untethered, flitting between the here-and-now and the what-is-maybe-some-day, the what-is-somewhere-else.

    But I will fight it, for a while, and come to this union fully present.

    Admiral is not the most monstrous of the powerful men and women who I've taken to bed. Not by half. Working for him for so long, it has a different frisson of danger to it. Scrogging the former boss. And I wonder what will move him, bring the sweat to his brow.

    It is easy for me to incite lust, break the strong of their prohibitions. Make them beg me to do things they'd never thought they'd yearn for. I peel back the shame of it, give them their pleasure honestly. And take my own, of course. But I think sometimes it makes me something of a collector, of private lusts. Truer truths that most of the ones that we say with our mouths.
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    August,

    Admiral's hands are sure as he works to free you from your clothes. He's insistent, but gentle, confident enough to resist checking in, but aware of your responses. After indulging in your lips and the taste of them, he picks you up in his strong arms to carry you to his bed, laying you down as he quickly disrobes.

    There's no hesitation from him, August. Do you stop him before he joins you on his large, comfortable bed that smells lightly of lilac?
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    Not the sort of bed that you stop a man from joining you on, is it?

    Opening my brain, when the time comes. Thinking about the man from the forest. Thinking about Vignette. Thinking about Dog, and Bon and old Char, the one who taught me my first stories. Thinking about Gates and how much I hate his stories.
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 7)
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    August,

    As the passion grows and clothes are removed, Admiral is a powerful lover. The feelings of his lust, his love, coupled with the pleasure of lovemaking, it swirls in your head.

    Images flash and flicker in moments, between kisses and movements, the many things on your mind morph and merge and decouple in weird and confusing ways. All of them connected to water. You see...

    - Rain in a forest being pulled beneath clear waters
    - Dog and Bon slipping into a steamy bath, their passion matching your own
    - Char walking slowly towards the shore, removing clothing and embracing oblivion
    - Gates, surrounded by the people of Yacht Club, glasses of boiled water raised in salute and adoration

    The vision fade and things come to an end and you lie with Admiral on sweat-soaked sheets. Admiral's arm is draped over your shoulder, but Admiral himself seems a bit distant, thoughtful.

    Admiral
    "August," Admiral murmurs, "Thank you. It has been a very long time. I don't know if Hope has told you, but I don't scrog her. But you. You're... a shining jewel in this place and I'm lucky to have you here."

    What do you do?
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    Skinner Special: Admiral is hypnotized as if I rolled a 10+.

    "I don't hate the compliment, but let's not pretend that I haven't made my admiration for you clear before." I stretch luxuriously, pick up my discarded prosthetic and slide my hand into the glove. Crawl across the mattress to lower myself atop Admiral's body, my hips between his thighs, my chin against his chest. "Why the restraint? With me before, or with Hope of late?" No judgement, just curiosity.

    The image of Dog and Bon leaves me with a bemused, warm smile when I think of it. Dog deserves someone right now, and that someone being Bon is exquisite. The image of Char haunts me though. Have any of my visions been anything but a true seeing? If any of them might be metaphor or a preventable future, I would pray it be this one.
  • Admiral
    Admiral chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound, genuine and unaffected. "Hope's a whit of a girl, and she's half-baked. She's beautiful, but she doesn't, ah, stir my loins." The leader of Safeco leans his head up, pressing his lips against your temple. "Resisting you? That was a real challenge, but I'm sure you know that. I guess I was still in mourning for my wife, tempted, but not ready to move on." He pauses, caught in the moment with you, adds, "I didn't want to upset my daughter, either. But now, well, that ship has sailed."
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    I twist upwards, catch his lip between my teeth, gently bite down. "Indeed. Speaking of ships. How'd you earn that name, Admiral? And what were you called before then?" I transfer my ministrations to his neck, his throat. Work my way to his nipple, his arm. I slide off of his body, swing my legs over the side of the bed and look over my shoulder, truly interested in the answer.
  • Admiral
    Admiral notes that you don't ask who his daughter is, August. You sense it, but he doesn't push for that, probably because he's distracted. "When I was a little one, my father called me Runt. I was the smallest of his kids, smaller than my two sisters, even. He worked hard on the docks, back before the red tide grew and killed everything. We ate and lived pretty well, considering. When things got worse and he died, my brothers and sisters looked to me. They were strong and bigger, but they looked to me. I led them inland, and they started calling me Admiral. It was a joke at first. But eventually, it... fit better than Runt." He shifts a bit, a hand coming down to stroke your back affectionately. "Especially after I hit a growth spurt."

    "Why don't you join me, August? Help run things here. I could use someone I could trust, who holds sway with people without carrying a gun, who can tell the people that I have a plan, that we can make life work again. I just..."a tremor of doubt colors his tone. "They don't listen to me without force."
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    "Runt," I echo, smiling in disbelief. "What a difference a name makes." My mouth is open, about to make a provocative comment about growth spurts, when Admiral makes his offer.

    I whistle, a low one, when I hear his plan. Shake my head slowly, side to side. "That's a fine direction to be thinking in, gotta say. Specifics won't work is the thing. People like to look at me, listen to what I have to say, but part of that is because they don't know how long I'll be around for, whether the wind will up and cart me off. You, they listen to for different reasons." There must be a draft, I'm shivering a bit. I pick up the shirt of his that I discarded earlier, pull it on like a shawl. "They listen because you keep them safe. And yeah, you do that with force. That's how we keep safe out here. I keep myself safe with force too, when I have to."

    I think of all the folks we know, here in SafeCo and the environs. I think about who talks about a way of doing things that isn't with force, who has something more of a vision. It doesn't take too much thinking to come up with a name. Even if it isn't exactly my sort of vision. "You know," I say thoughtfully, "Who you should really be talking to?"

    I turn back to Admiral's side, my hand taking liberties with his unmentionables, getting him riled up for another scrog. I leave the question hanging until we're dovetailed again, his hands hungry at my back. Perversely, I'm thinking about Admiral making his offer to my candidate in the same way, the two of them sweaty and thrashing in his bed. The thought of it brings me to the edge, and I'm saying their name like a mantra, like a prayer.

    "Gates," I say again finally, my mouth still panting against his. "You should make an offer to Gates."
  • Admiral
    Admiral takes pleasure in the moments, the sensations. A dam has broken in him, something he's held in check for years. As you lean over him, his hands greedily gripping your hips as you join together in a winding ascent to climax. You pant Gates name and for a moment, he looks at you oddly, confused at the tone, the flavor of how you say his name. He's too enraptured to respond until after the summit is peaked, and later, as he idly touches your prosthetic hand lightly, pulling it to his chest where it seems best suited.

    "Father Gates?" Admiral says his name finally. "Would he even approve of my methods enough to back them?" He muses this aloud, but he knows you wouldn't have suggested the name if you didn't have confidence something could work.

    After brief consideration (he gives you something you want), he says, "I don't want to be seen poaching from my daughter. Can you speak with Gates for me? I can provide for him and his flock, of course. Offer him protection, safe travel, safecoins, an audience for his sermons, even. I need someone like you, August. But Safeco probably needs someone more like him."

    What do you do?
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    "Of course," I agree idly, sated. Pleased that talk has shifted to something less like Admiral owning me. I like being needed, but I need room to breathe. I shift around in the bed so that I can spoon him from behind. I like this shirt. I think I'll keep it.

    "But for now, let's sleep until the rain stops falling."
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    End Scene.
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