Shhh. I'm Hunting Boy-Toys. [Bre]

[jack]

Worn fingers--rough hands, hands of someone born and raised pampered...but who had found a much more wild world much more worth living--tugged softly on the rope, making minor adjustments with a giggle of excitement. Bare feet shuffled on the dirt-covered floor, the young man walking on his toes as he crept across the street, adjusting another thing or two before looking up, and licking his lips at the dangling cage above him.

"Its perfect." He cackled, rubbing his hands together as he stretched his neck out, looking to the sun and nodding to himself eagerly. The sun was rising..soon there'd be an onslaught of people from the Hold. And some of those people would come through this alleyway, younger people wanting short-cuts. But older than kids. In other words...his kind of people.

T'el licked his lips again and skittered to his hiding spot, perched on a nearby roof-top with a fishing pole in hand. The pole was connected to a rope, that connected to a pulley, which connected to another pulley, which was connected to a rock. And beneath the rock was another rope, which was connected to his poorly constructed--and island hermit-esque--trap.

Any minute now, some tasty little soul would stumble past...and he'd wrench his line..and that trap would fall. Then Sjueth--very well hidden behind a building with a palm tree over his head--would lunge out, and snap his claws over the trap, effectively pinning T'el's new toy!

A loud--too loud, really--cackle burst from his lips and the blackette ran a hand through his hair, bouncing on the balls of his feet even as he crouched over the lip of the building, cheerfully awaiting his prize. After all, T'el was such a good boy...surely he deserved another what-not to break?

[Admin]

I don't like your tragic sighs,
As if your God has passed you by, well, hey fool,
That's your deception,
Your angels speak with jilted tongues.

D'ror came on foot. Abeneth was too distinct a dragon, with his size and scars, and he wasn't a moron like T'el. It wasn't as if Sjueth was any less noticeable, attempting to hide behind a building much smaller than the King with a useless palm tree over him. The cloaked figure glided down the streets amongst the scant early traffic, and paused once to look, under his hood, over at the lurking dragon. Then he continued on as if it was nothing. His eyes, those quick eyes, hunted out the sight of a head peaking over a rooftop. Then he ducked into an alley on the opposite side of the street.

It took him a little bit to be able to approach the proper side of the building were T'el was without being noticed, but he didn't rush it. He could make it before whatever he was planning could get enough a crowd to cause to much damage. With surprising strength and ease for a man his age, he pulled himself soundlessly onto the roof. The padded boots made no sound as he moved forward, body hunched over slightly so that he wouldn't be noticed. With some distraction. Sjueth! Where are you? Abeneth was a great actor, sounding utterly honest and just a tiny big angry.

With his dragon bothering the other dragon's, D'ror crossed the roof, reached for the back of the ironrider's shirt, and yanked to throw him against the roof. He let his hood fall back in the process, exposing his face. "What do you think you're doing? You really think that you have that much control? That you can stand what may happen from this?" His voice was icy, and sort of like a growl, though very clear despite that. "You're a fool;" he hissed at him. He was furious, but he didn't let himself go by that. He had to keep in control, to make sure that his plan was finished.

Offer what you can, I'll take all that I can get,
Only a fool's here to stay,
Only a fool's here to stay,
Only a fool's here.

[jack]

Sjueth lifted his head at the sound of the voice--having not really been trying to hide in earnest anyways--and glanced to the side, lazily grinding his teeth before answering with lazy distaste, as though annoyed at being wakened from a nap. Going along with another of Mine's schemes. I should think that is obvious, Abeneth.A smug look glinted in his eyes as he rose fully, frightening a woman--who somehow hadn't noticed in him the slightest--and stretched out. What else am I ever doing? I assume you need Mine?

T'el, oblivious and content as always, didn't even notice the twinge of warning from Sjueth, his eyes set on an attractive red-head--ooh...eighteen at the most!--striding his way down the street. And he was coming close! Grinning ear to ear and practically announcing "sexual deviant" to the world, he leaned a bit closer, silently begging the lad to come a teensy...weensy...bit...closER!

A snarl of a squeal--sort of like what happens when you mix a wild dog and a pig together and then scare it--erupted from his lips, being grabbed and wrenched back clearly hitting a bad note to the youth. He fell instantly into a survivalist's fit, allowing himself to roll backwards as the other planned, before bracing himself with his upper back and shoulders, hands digging into the roof as his back feet curved forwards towards D'ror's head.

As narrowed, furious eyes--fierce and cold in their unprotected stage--moved to look at his attacker, however, his feet stopped mid-way, a cheerfully drunk look fading back onto the boy's face. "Oh hey there, D'ror!" He chirped, looking a bit like a puppy dog wagging his tail even with his feet mere inches from D'ror's skull and his bum partially in the air, "I'm not doing anything so bad," He added, childish in his innocently naughty smile, "I'm just huntin' fer a toy or two. Mine seems t' have run away. Can't have that, now can I? And besides! No one will miss a handsome man or two~"

Cackling cheerfully he rolled to all fours, back arched delicately before he stood completely, moving back to his trap, only to giggle as his prey moved a bit closer. "Ooh. This one's nice looking. If ya don't mind, Bossman, imma get an afternoon snack fer mahself~"

[Admin]

My wicked ways,
They might be here to stay,
You've been turnin' my head 'round, baby,
With the things you say and the tricks you're playin'.

D'ror didn't flinch at seeing feet aimed at his face. When they stopped short, he blinked at them once, then looked back at their once again simply cheerful and disturbing owner again. Fury had faded back slightly and he listened honestly as T'el insisted that he wasn't doing anything that bad. He was polite, letting the foolish boy wheedle on about it, but he crossed out every bit that he was given. Morally, kidnapping people was very wrong, especially with what T'el would likely do to them. Not that he had much of a problem with that. Morals weren't something he cared much about. He had a problem with the fact that, in fact, people would miss a man or two, especially handsome ones that simply vanished into thin air. It was the ironrider's fault that he'd lost his last one too. When you kidnap, you have to keep an eye on your prizes.

The brownrider turned to see the ironrider's soon-to-be snack. The other boy was nice looking, he supposed, though it hardly made much of a difference to him. He took two slow, firm strides forward, took the top of fishing pole that started the trap in one hand and gave it a sharp snap. That set everything into motion, and made it entirely useless for T'el's plan of catching the approaching individual, who seemed to be starting to thinking better of coming over towards them. He moved very close to the other rider and leaned in. "If you want pretty boy toys, talk to Y'nis;" he said softly, with a grin that certainly didn't reach his eyes whatsoever. Problem fixed, for the moment. He whirled on his heel and stalked off towards the edge of the ledge. He had more important things to take care, like plotting the end of their world and the social order.

Back at the camp, Abeneth rolled over on his side, his outer eyelids closed as he rested and waited for orders from D'ror. He was not actively involved in the situation. Yes, you could say that we need him; the brown said, going along with the mild, halfhearted amusement that his rider was putting forth as he replied to Sjueth, not bothered that it was a bit late. The time had been a bit intentional, though he wasn't the best at all of that.

Southeaster blowin' from dusk till dawn,
Honey, where I'm goin'?
Oh, the streets are mean,
And the guns are drawn.

[jack]

Just...a...few....more...ste--a keening whine erupted loudly from the man's lips as he lunged for the fishing rod, bottom lip jutting out far as he watched--half over the ledge with his ass in the air--as his beautiful toy-to-be walked away. Eyes almost watering, he gave another whine, rumbling to himself as he slunk down, sulking at his escaping meal.

"Well....that wasn't very nice of you." He whined, licking his lips as he got a last look at that lovely ass before it got completely away, "S'not like I was gonna hurt him or nothin'...just..." He licked his lips again, eyes narrowing, "...play...with him....a bit."

A long sigh slid from his lips and he lazily returned to his feet, hands on his hips as he continued to pout, glancing over his shoulder with minor annoyance at the other man. "Been there, done that." He replied, frowning, "Got bored, moved on." He sidled closer, grinning ear to ear in a manic sort of way, "It takes more than a one-trick pony to keep me occupied, darling."

[Admin]

Une fille jolie,
Passer tout pres de moi,
Elle arreter le temps
Au coin de St. Catherine et St. Laurent .

As if he cared about being nice. D'ror kept on walking. If T'el wanted to 'just play' with some boys for a bit, he could get them the old fashion way by flirting his way into their pants and then screwing them over. This was exactly his problem with the world. It had gone to the canines with how everything went. But he did end up pausing, upon hearing that the ironrider was bored with Y'nis. Bored with that crazy purplerider? Talking about wanting something more interesting? His feet hovered over the lip of the roof. He'd heard the young man come closer.

Twirling around to face the maniacal T'el, he briefly considered him, then stepped forward. One of his hands came up to gently catch the other's chin. "Oh, is that so;" he said, voice smooth like silk, not something most would expect of him. "Now then, compared to that fellow, I'm more than one-trick anything, aren't I;" he dared. That grin he'd be wearing spread a little, and something did play in his eyes. "I mean, for a start, Varya certainly shouldn't know about these sort of things;" he trailed off. His hand dropped, but his face hovered inches from T'el's.

Elle ma fait penser a rien en ce moment,
Et comme le vent elle s’en aller,
Et moi j’suis reveiller,
Ouai moi j’suis reveiller.

[jack]

Flirting, needless to say, hadn't been T'el's style for a long, long time. Sure, he'd been good with it once. Had at least one kid he sort of kinda knew about--assumed, rather. When a lady getting fatter and fatter kept coming and yelling at you you kinda assumed...--and had inklings about others. S'why he turned to men--again, sorta. He still liked the occasional lady, men were just hornier and far more predictable. Girls were bloody insane! And coming from him...that was impressive. But men...mm. They were more often than not just as good looking--if not better--often stupider and easier to manipulate...stronger...more durable...and the fact that some were hard as iron to break and others shattered like eggshells amused him to no end.

Nevertheless, types aside and gone...he didn't bother flirting anymore. Not that he couldn't, he probably could if he went to a lot of effort. But why bother? He personally enjoyed breaking his toys. There was something addictive to the sound. And what could he say, he liked it rough. Liked the adrenaline rush from pinning prey...the feel of power, as though tasting what he could have, should have had if those lying bastards hadn't turned the blame on him...and the outright brutal, animalistic instincts it brought out. But hey...he was a messed up guy. He could do whatever he wanted to get off.

The blackette shifted slightly when the other man whirled around, stiffening his jaw and his muscles as though preparing to dodge or take a hit...something he would expect from his boss. But when a hand grabbed at his chin--soft, yet clearly there--his pupils dilated, and a look of intrigued starvation--not that he didn't always look a bit like a starved something or another--spread into his eyes. The other man's words made him shudder, the smooth trill of his voice enough to make the Ironrider's brow arched, nostrils flaring subtly as he unconsciously leaned forwards, before leaning back as though distrusting. Which, considering the danger of the person--not that he couldn't take him, of course!!--before him, wasn't all that surprising.

At D'ror's next words, T'el's grin broadened uncontrollably, both brows up and eyes displaying a thousand comments--most were lewd or rude--as he outright cackled, licking his lips slowly. "Well, well, well~" He crooned, tilting his chin up as though silently beckoning that hand to move down, "Aren't we feeling bold this evening."
Snickering to himself--and sounding a tad bit like a snake giggling in a bird's gullet, what with that random chattering snuck in there--he cocked his head to the side, unruly locks falling to one eye and his expression fading to an oddly reserved one. You could almost say well-mannered even. Not all of his old habits had been forgotten, you know. "But ya might wanna be careful, bossmaaaan." He added, leaning in further even when the man's hand fell, his own hand lifting so that just the barest tip of his finger brushed the underside of the Brown-rider's throat up to his chin. He cackled again, grin taking an almost predatory air, "Yer startin' to sound like you're makin'....an offer of sorts."

[Admin]

Before I fall too fast,
Kiss me quick,
But make it last.

T'el's reaction to his words and touch brought a feeling of pleasure in D'ror. It was satisfying to see what he could do, even if it was only with someone as crazy as the other renegade. It was satisfying to read the thousands of inappropriate comments hidden in the features of the younger man's face. As of late, he hadn't spent much time in any sort of public place, or with any company but the handful of riders that made up his own, personal, uncooperative little army. Though Varya held her place to him, she was partially just another piece of the puzzle, a rider of an orange, a rider of a dragon capable of producing eggs. Alizadehth was closer to Abeneth in terms of where the romance lay between them. Temptation aside, an ego stroking from knowing that he could still get the interest of another male pleased him. Though, for the most part, he'd kept his interest to females, at one point, long ago, he'd spent sometime with his boys in his bed as well. Then he'd gotten a bit more selective, and it hadn't seemed necessary.

With ironclad control, he refused to give into the invitation to slid his hand lower on T'el's neck. With that same control, he gave no reaction to the ironrider's crooned suggestive comments, cackles, or the touch to his neck. He wanted control the situation; he had a goal to reach, even though some personal enjoyment seemed to be likely to be involved. "Who said that I wasn't making an offer? I know that fair trades;" he began to reply. Then his conversation was broken up as he leaned forward and gave T'el a peck on the lips. After that, he danced away so there was a distinct distance between them. "Are the only way to get anything;" he finished, before giving his lips a few theatrical smacks and then ran the tip of his tongue along them. He wanted the ironrider to be the one to jump him. He wanted to be the one with all the cards.

"I'm making the offer that, if I let you try to go a few rounds with me the way you like, you won't go around the holds or Weyr anymore without my permission;" he said, speaking slowly and clearly. He was serious for a moment, fixing his eyes on T'el to make him understand what he was saying. "And I wouldn't advise trying to double cross me if you agree;" he added, voice stern and dangerous. But then there was a grin that really lit up his face. "Maybe that's part of the fun though, eh?" There was still that dangerous edge to his voice, except there was more lightness to it then. He was dangerous. He was temptation. He was the devil himself. That was who he wanted to be. He was who he wanted to be whenever he wanted to be it. He got what he wanted; that was what he did. Ever so carefully, he moved back towards T'el closing the distance between them. He wanted to make it so that his offer wouldn't be refuse.

Keep it sweet,
Keep it slow,
Let the future pass.

[jack]

Those wild eyes gleamed with mirth, amusement and plain, simple lust dancing unhidden in his stare as he licked his lips where he'd been kissed, snickering softly. That snicker grew louder, and slightly higher, and he moved suddenly forwards, following the other man's movements with fearless predation. He dared not touch, his thumbs in his pantline and his eyes gleaming, but instead circled, moving around D'ror with wandering eyes.

"So it is an offer." He repeated, looking the man up and down as though criticizing a prime piece of meat, seeming to be endlessly amused with the fact that the man had offered in the first place. It was as plain on the nose on his face that he was interested in the offer--not that he was trying in the least to hide it--but was not entirely sure that he liked the stakes. "But it sure is a boring one."

Grinning ear to ear, with his inner decision made and eyes gleaming with challenge, he took a stand just in front of D'ror, an armslength away. "You make it sound like I would be the one struggling to keep up..." His grin twisted and he licked his lips wetly, tilting his head slightly to the side and showing off his smooth neck, "But really now. Are you so sure you would be able to keep up with me?" He gave a soft cackle, nibbling on his bottom lip with an almost pouting expression, "Honestly Bossman, I have my doubts. You don't seem to be...nearly as active as I know I am...and I only play with the bestest of toys." His eyes flashed and he sashayed a step out of the way when the man moved forwards, "Why should I give up my right to break the things that suit my fancy, for a one-time gig? Oh no. I need more than that, darling."

[Admin]

Cause all we know is falling, it falls.
Remember, cause I know that we won't forget at all.
Now we can follow you back home but we won't.
Is this what you had waited for? Just to be alone?

D'ror watched T'el intently as his expression constantly changed well he circled and then darted out of the way. He kept his cool and control, even though he was sorely tempted himself. Still, after a long-haul, he wasn't going to mess things up by giving into the actual urge to have a one-night stand with a man twenty turns younger than him who he was entirely crazy. He smirked though, seeing folly in the accusations and explanations from the ironrider. He could get him. He could still get what he wanted. He was going to make the other be the one to give into temptation in the end.

Before he even spoke a word, he took one slow step, paused, and then took another. His expression pleaded, as much as he would ever plead, for just a little bit of trust, so he could get close, so they could have some fun. His eyes screamed that he dared him, for once really bright and lively, dared him to let him be close. "Well, I certainly think we'd be pretty well match in a fight;" he said, wheedling to be allowed to get close by reminding T'el's ego that he thought he could take his boss. He closed the gap between them till they were a short length apart, then leaned in.

Placing his head right next to the other man's ear, he spoke ever so softly. "I'm twice your age, boy. Maybe I haven't been frisky as of late, but I can assure you that I still know what I'm doing. And who said this was going to be a one-time gig? I said a few rounds, didn't I? And I'm not a one-trick runner, am I?" His voice was as hotly suggestive as the air it blew against the other rider's skin. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to show a scar at one hip, which he traced with a finger seductively. "I don't really think you can break me, but wouldn't it be fun to try?"

You never, you never said,
This wasn't what you wanted, was it? Was it?
This isn't what you wanted.
This isn't what you wanted.

[jack]

The other's movements caught the youth's full attention and he stood his ground, eyes meeting with D'ror's with a rare spark of total intrigue and total concentration. He seemed split with staring right back, reading the man's eyes, and letting his gaze wander to his Boss's feet, every slow step forwards a warning flare he couldn't seem to obey. "Of course we would..." T'el mumbled thoughtlessly, eyes trying desperately to stay locked with the other's, but continually distracted by his own intentions, "I wouldn't have bothered to...even bother to assist your little scheme if you didn't seem strong enough...to at least slow Sju and I down."

Snickering slightly he licked his lips, biting his bottom lip in a trademark action as he gave an absent laugh. His eyes wandered down again, noting with a soft flare of his nostrils that the other had stopped entirely...and was entirely too close if this was all a nasty little ruse. But while he wouldn't put it past his boss to do such a thing, that would be very much a boring thing, and he was noticing that the Brownrider was anything but boring as of late. The man leaned in and the Ironrider instinctively tried to lean back, eyes flashing with warning at the intrusive move, but forced himself to freeze. Eyes darting over the other's face, struggling to read him, he licked his lips again, a brow arching cleanly at lips very close to his ear.

"Twice my age, hm?" He copied, a snide little look on his lips as he tilted his head, a challenge of his own in his stare, "Are you trying to be a turn-off, Bossman, or just hinting at worlds of experience?" A soft giggle--not nearly as insane as usual--rumbled in his throat and he licked his lips once more, a mannerism that he was indulging in more than ever lately. "A few rounds, eh?" Back to repeating things he tilted his head to the side, one ear twitching visibly as he swallowed, mind whirling with decisions. "No...clearly you've got more than one." he added after a moment, outright cackling, "But that's just all the better. You should have figured out already..." He leaned in just as close as the other had leaned in, if not more, and at last gave in to the eurge to touch, opening his mouth to gently tug on the other's earlobe almost teasingly, "I always ditch things that get boring."

Cackling with glee he leaned back and whisked himself out of reach again, watching with unusually rapt attention even as he moved away that hand and that scar. His eyes flashed, clear acceptence of the offer in the sashay of his hips as he moved around the other once more. Looking a bit like a buyer who'd agreed to paying for an especially nice runner, he surveyed every inch of the man as though hunting for any sort of flaw--anything that could make the price a shade bit lower.

But his decision would be made and the deal was agreed to in his eyes as he finally came to a stop, letting his hands reach out to touch that scar that had so attracted his attention. The very pads of his fingers brushed against that marred flesh, fascination and want in his gaze as he licked his lips, exploring that mark even as he knelt in front of the other, a lop-sided grin on his face as he stubbornly refused to break eye-contact. "I suppose that could be...an entertaining game."

They both knew that this wouldn't stop T'el's kidnapping ways. They both knew that he'd be back to his old antics when he got bored...or wanted to...but they also both knew that the treat would keep him obedient...for a little while. He snickered, lips curling in almost a sneer and he licked them, leaning in to run the very tip of his tongue through the middle of the scar before making a second pass, using the whole muscle.
Sju.

Behind them the Iron turned his attention to the pair, just in his vision. He gave a soft, wordless rumble and rose into the air, gliding close enough for the tips of his claws to rake the occasional bit of buidling as he landed in the middle of the street, not bothering to hide in the least.
"Well, bossman~" T'el chortled as he rose, backing away with his fingers the last to leave the other's hips, as though he were reluctant to leave, "I suggest we take this elsewhere. Wouldn't want us to...scar any tiny villagers more than we already have, hm~?"

ooc: Shall we move this? xDD OR WE CAN SCARE VILLAGERS.
T'el may be feeling sane about now...but Jack would still like to scare them~ ;DDD

[Admin]

And the tears come streaming down your face,
When you lose something you can't replace,
When you love someone but it goes to waste,
Could it be worse?

There had to be something under the layers of conman and villain, didn't there? There should be something behind the man whose only history seemed to be a connection to an orangerider he'd cropped up with about a turn back, shouldn't there? Somewhere in there, under it all, there was a man who wasn't all cool confidence and mystery and a presence of discomfort and ill ease. There was at least the hint of a human, a primal and instinctual human but a human nonetheless, in the fact D'ror just very much wanted to go be very inappropriate with his reckless subordinate. Perhaps it was because he'd had that fantasy before. Not that he could allow himself to be distracted by that. Even if Varya fulfilled another little wish from way back when, in the dark recesses.

And that it was very distracting to have T'el tugging on his ear with his mouth and then dancing around him. It was more distracting to have him touching his scar and kneeling in front of him. But then his the ironrider gave verbal conformation to the terms of their little agreement. He let out a nice, soft groan as a tongue rolled over the ill-healed flesh, once, then twice. But he still let his shirt drop back into place as his soon-to-be lover, because he had no plans on not going there by that point, stood in front of him. The hulking form of an iron dragon, Sjueth, landed in the street next to the building they stood on and he turned his head away from T'el to look at his dragon. He appeared to be thinking, but with a smirk that bade no good for much.

"Oh, I don't know about scarring them, but how about some of that havoc that I promised you? I know how to make some powerful people very upset;" he crooned softly, turning so he could grin at his warped friend. Without waiting for an answer, he snatched up a hand and tugged the other individual along after him as he moved towards the edge of the roof where Sjueth waited for them. They'd started gathering some attention, the two of them, and the large dragon had gathered a full crowd, all attention focused between him and them. The Weyrwoman and her new Weyrleader had kept everyone so quiet. He didn't want quiet. It had never been his attention to stay secret, just out of the way.

"Hello, everybody! Yes, yes, look over here!" He raised his left hand, his free one since the other held T'el's, and waved it at everyone so they looked towards them. His voice was cutting and commanding, neither very reminiscent of the flirt he'd been being or his usually more subtle way of acting. It held authority, more the wind piercing call of a wingleader, or perhaps just a guards' captain. "My name is D'ror, renegade rider of brown Abeneth. The scarred brown. One of the scorned of Kalith. This is T'el, renegade rider of iron Sjueth. You'll be seeing us around;" he informed all those gather. Then he turned to the man he'd introduced and swept him into a kiss, both hands cupping his face.

He was going to have to lie to Varya later and tell her that it was just another of his stunts that she wouldn't approve of. That he hadn't gone and done whatever was going to happen after that point. The point that he'd planned up to. That point was somewhere in the make-out type, open-mouth, passionate, forward, face-sucking kiss he drew out for a minute well everyone stared on. He pressed forward as he did it, asserting dominance over the moment, not really over the kiss, just over their appearance to the crowd. So he looked like a hero sweeping a heroine into a kiss at the end of a ballad. When he wanted to be, he could be romantic, in a vigilante sort of way. He pulled away once he thought the effect was done, and he was done kissing T'el.

Releasing the ironrider entirely, D'ror turned back towards the crowd again. There was a pause, as he posed and looked them over. Someone gave a whistle; someone giggled. He grinned, and then he leaped from the building. As he fell, he felt sheer freedom and elation and triumphant at the moment. He landed neatly on the ground below and moved towards Sjueth. No one got in his way; high shock value was good for that. He cut a clear path to the iron and clambered up without a care for the fact that it wasn't his dragon. Settling into the back of the little nook between ridges that made riding a dragon so easy, he waited patiently for his friend.

And high up above earth or down below,
When you're too in love to let it go,
But if you never try you'll never know,
Just what you're worth.