mallow_logs | [closed] hey bitch

Since Kurloz was going to be living in a room again, he of course had to go shopping for a few things. Luckily, the store he often frequented for his face paint also had a lot of merchandise he could use to decorate the room with. He spent a few good hours buying things and then returned to the cemetery to say good bye to the dead there. He noticed that a lot of humans would come to talk to them, so he felt he should pay the same respect. Still, a part of him really wanted to bring some of the skulls he had found with him. Maybe he'll sneak a few later, bleach them a perfect white and act as though they were fake.

Now that everything was settled he moved on, heading for Porrim's place. Well, possibly soon to be their place. If everything went right he would be moving into the same house as the other. He was still rather excited, and more than a little nervous. He wasn't used to living so near another troll, or even a luses. His goat dad would often leave before the sun would rise so he's always had a place by himself. This was alright, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t lonely.

Living with Porrim was going to be interesting. He already spent a lot of time at her place due to their “arrangement” but never stayed long enough to fall asleep around her. And it would be nice to have a place that stayed relatively the same temperature rather than fluctuate depending on the weather outside. Once he reached the house he knocked on the door, leaning against the frame as he waited for an answer.

She heard his knock and rose, going to the door and opening it wide. This was a normal interaction between them now, him coming over and her answering with a smile, but this time it's different, and it's noticeable. She looks at the bags he's got with him and gives him an approving look.

"You went shopping."

She's used to talking to him and him not talking back, by now, so it's less uncomfortable than it once was, and so she turns back into the house, moving and perching on top of the breakfast nook (heh), legs swinging freely under the hem of her skirt. Once he's safely inside and the door's shut, she goes on.

"First, we should talk about boundaries. Ground rules." A toe points at a pad of paper and a marker (indigo, she'd found it in an art shop and couldn't resist) on the coffee table.

Kurloz nods, following her into the house as per usual. Lately he's been getting more and more comfortable in this place. He smiles a little as he thinks back and eyes her on the counter.

Well, at least he knew most of the house. But he never did find out where Meenah's room was, or maybe he was just too distracted to ever notice it.

He blinks, fallowing that leg down before glancing over to the coffee table. He places the bags over by the wall and takes up the marker, eyeing it and looking over to her again with a grin (nice color). Then he gets to work, writing down a few things and then pausing, marker hovering over the paper as he thinks of what else might be important.

Eventually he just decides that's good enough, if anything else comes up they'll discus it then. He hands her the paper, capping the marker and twirling it between his fingers.

The note reads:

I'M FUCKING GOOD WITH ANYTHING SISTER, AS LONG AS WE KEEP WHAT HAPPENS IN THE HIVE BETWEEN US. PEOPLE DO NOT NEED TO GET ALL UP INTO MY LIFE.

HAVEN'T FOUND ANY WICKED EILXER YET IN THIS PLACE, BUT WHEN I DO I'LL TRY TO KEEP IT IN MY SPACE. SAME WITH THE“NIP”.

Then suddenly he remembers something and carefully takes the pad from her and scribbles a question.

WHATS THE LAW ON MUSIC IN THIS PLACE?

(ooc: In case you can't read the Rage italic, aka kurloz's hand writing... it reads: "I'M FUCKING GOOD WITH ANYTHING SISTER, AS LONG AS WE KEEP WHAT HAPPENS IN THE HIVE BETWEEN US. PEOPLE DO NOT NEED TO GET ALL UP INTO MY LIFE. HAVEN'T FOUND ANY WICKED EILXER YET IN THIS PLACE, BUT WHEN I DO I'LL TRY TO KEEP IT IN MY SPACE. SAME WITH THE“NIP”." And then "WHATS THE LAW ON MUSIC IN THIS PLACE?")

She takes it from him, smirking at the end of that first sentence, and then going on to read the rest. It all seems reasonable, and she's into privacy just as much as the next guy. She hands the pad back blithely, content to answer him all at once, and once she's scanned his addendum, she crosses one leg over the other and goes down the list.

"I definitely agree with you on that first bit. I don't exactly want my sexual escapades plastered all over the morning news—not that you'd do something like that, of course, but you get the idea. I think between the two of us we can keep things quiet." She has to laugh a little at the irony of that statement, before moving on.

"I don't particularly care what you do as far as substance abuse goes, either, as long as there's not going to be a drug raid on our hive. I don't think I'm up to sweet-talking our way out of that." Another toothy grin, and then she addresses his question with a shrug.

"Not sure, really, as long as it doesn't disturb the neighbors." She's all about keeping the peace and neighborly love and all that, after all.

Kurloz also had to smile at the irony, but he was glad that they had an understanding on the first rule. He knew Porrim was into gossip, which did worry him somewhat, but he also knew she wasn't nearly as bad as some of their friends.

Then again, he also silently chuckled at the fact that it's when their together he makes the most noise.

He looks up at the corner of his eye, though this couldn't really be seen, and thinks about that for a moment. As far as he knew this place didn't have any drug laws, and if there was a raid he could easily twist their minds. So there wouldn't be any worries on that end.

It's that last word that draws the most reaction out of him, eyes going wide and he seemed to grow in size as suddenly his posture straightened up. Oh hey, they had NEIGHBORS He looked to each side, knowing he couldn't see them but also knowing they were there.

He never had neighbors before! It was always him, the beach, and the few sea dwellers that managed to escape goat dad, although the old goat always got his prey in the end. Now he was wondering who they were, and what where they like. And he was excited but also worried if they were the type to spy.

His reaction to her mention of neighbors garners him a double eyebrow raise, an amused smile spreading across her lips. "I don't know what any of them are like, but I think they're natives. To be honest, I think they're all frightened of me."

She laughs, mirthfully. "Why that would be, I have no idea. But they shouldn't be any trouble."

Porrim nods towards his shopping bags. "Did you bring things for your pile?"

Kurloz looks at her, listening to her speak about their neighbors. HA, “their neighbors”...man that was going to be weird. He grins, a glimmer of mirth and mischievous intent in his expression.

Surely they'll relax now that Kurloz is living with her. I mean really, he just looks like such a sweet and kind lad.

He can't help but think that it might be interesting if they did, he hasn't tried his chuckle voodoo's on a normal human yet other than a little telepathy...and that wasn't really on a human. More like a demonic cat girl with a penchant for taking on things a lot larger and stronger then herself.

The mime glances towards the bags and then back to Porrim nodding before taking them back up. Most of the larger things he purchased were stored safely in his miracle modus. He keeps the bags to himself; Porrim can see what all he got when he has his room was set up. But when he lifts the bags you can hear a small honk, yep there was definitely a few mandatory horns in there.

She lets out a laugh at the faint honking of horns. Of course. What else? Then, she swings down from the countertop and heads toward the side of the house opposite her room.

"I guess I should show you your room. Follow me."

Meenah's old room has wood floors, a desk and a dresser resembling those from a certain Swedish megastore, and a faint smell of the ocean. She leans against the dresser.

"You're welcome to get rid of anything in here you don't want. It's not like I had to pay for it."

Kurloz does as he's told, keeping only a few feet behind her. He enters the room and looks around slowly, taking in everything and already knowing he's going to have to do some serious painting.

The indigo blood then catches that sea scent and he closes his eyes, head leaning back as all sorts of memories flood his think pan. Oh man, he should have expected this from Meenah. If there was one thing he was going to try and preserve it's this scent. He turns a full 180 before letting the bags drop from his hands.

When his eyes open their flashing through different shades of purple, he wasn't attacking anyone's mind though, just an impulsive reaction. As soon as it had come it was gone, switching back to the white void. He smiles, liking the room, it was nice and basic and he was glad it smelt like the ocean instead of fish, or fresh boonies.

But the next time Porrim sees it, the room will be completely different. He eyed the walls, thinking about painting a base color of black and then painting over it with numerous colors. Maybe he’ll keep the colors focused above and make it look like blood running down the walls. He’ll also paint skull designs here and there and write out his favorite lyrics in white. He’ll keep the floor clean, and instead drape a large purple rug in the middle of the floor. He eyes the dresser and spreads his hands over the surface. The top will work fine for an altar, and he could display his voodoo dolls and ‘fake’ Skulls here. He’ll probably also paint it black, with a red under coat. Eventually he’ll chip the black paint in places and make it look like someone had tried to paint over dried human blood.

He’ll get long indigo colored curtains to block out the sun, and set up two tall lamps that emit minimal light. And then of course theirs the table which will probably be the only thing in the room not horrified too badly. Though he did plan to claw into it and make it look like someone tried to grab it while being dragged away. Oh yes…he had many plans for this place. He thrums his fingers over the wood of the dresser. Now all he had to think about was where to put his pile, hm…

But in his spree of imagination he suddenly realizes that he was practically trapping Porrim against that very same dresser. He looks down at her, blinking semi innocently. Hello there.

(I'm a marshmallow and forgot where she was standing...whoops...Edited)

Edited 2013-05-07 04:42 (UTC)

She's content to sit and watch while he looks around, and she can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he turns around and around, and she has to blink back surprise when she sees his eyes flashing. It seems to go just as quickly as it came, though, so she doesn't mention it out of respect.

When he approaches her, she assumes it's on purpose at first, but when he doesn't do anything other than continue to be lost on thought, she realizes her error, and when he finally looks down, there's an amused smile playing about her lips. She angles her head up toward him, raising her brows.

"Is it to your liking?"

Kurloz pretends to be thinking about it for a moment before leaning down and kissing her. He keeps it long with light pressure, thanking her for all this. Yeah, he liked the room. And as for roommates, he feels lucky to have found such a beautiful girl to be living with. Not to mention kind, understanding, cool, and just plain old wicked.

And as per usual, when he doesn't have a sheet of paper to write on he begins to delicately write along her skin. "Needs Paint."

She's expecting it, but that doesn't make it any less pleasant when he kisses her, and when she pulls back she can feel her face flush pale jade. She cocks her head, attention focused on his finger tracing along her skin.

"Needs...paint."

She pulls back to look at the room, and nods after a moment.

"I think you're right. Black, maybe? And indigo, of course.

Kurloz watches her, smiling. He then opens his arms, indicating for her to get a wider view. This entire room was his canvas, though he would not mind sharing in the fun.

He then gently brushes a hand against her cheek, thumb tracing over that jade glow. There was definitely going to be jade somewhere...eventually, and it didn't necessarily have to be paint or blood.

She leans her cheek into his gloved hand, lips curling into a black-painted smile.

"I'd be happy to help, if you need any."

She's been thinking of painting her own room, anyway, to add a splash of color; might as well make a day of it.

Kurloz purred, he would like that, and what he would like more than that was seeing Porrim covered in different shades of paint. He was of course going to have to use the store bought kind, but that was fine, it would still look wicked as fuck.

Though he might ruin the paint job by accident. Oh well, it would be worth it.

He leans down and kisses her temple, a movement that has become accustomed between them, before placing light, innocent, kisses down her cheek and against her neck.

He stops, stitches still pressed against her pale skin as he glances up at her with lidded eyes, a silent question to his gaze. Wondering if she was hungry or not. After all, blood paid the water bill might as well make it the rent too.

She angles her head to the side, letting him kiss her happily. Her fingers tighten against the front edge of the dresser, and she gets a giddy feeling in her stomach. She's never been one to get weird about intimate gestures with someone she's just fucking around with; any kind of affection is always fine by her. When he pauses, she looks down, catches his glance, but she doesn't get it right away.

"Problem?"

Kurloz kisses her neck one last time before moving away, arching his own and bringing two fingers up to pull down his shirt collar. His clothes were perfect for hiding their activities, even though he wasn't interested in that. He could care less if the world knew or not.

Below the collar was a few little puncture marks, some deeper than the others where he had pushed her teeth in further. He was far less worried about it now then he had been his first time, even starting to get really into the activity. But this was for her, not him; at least that's what he told himself.

"Oh," she breathes, "that would be lovely." She eyes the puncture marks she's already left on him; there's starting to be quite the little collection, and she likes it. She brings a hand up to skim over his neck gently, over the jump of his pulse. She's always thought it's weird that they still have pulses, heartbeats; weren't you supposed to give that up when you died?

But she's not complaining. She leans her face in until her lips are almost touching his neck, huffing a breath against his skin before she closes the gap. She plants a soft kiss before sliding her fangs in, what's become a practiced movement.

Kurloz hardly counted this as true death, and he doubted it really was. If they were really dead, what about all those trolls they left to die under the fiery onslaught of the meteors? Wouldn't they have run into them by now? Nah, he believed the dream bubbles was like a hard drive and their souls was information set into storage. Well something like that, that's how he explained it to Mituna anyway.

A shiver runs through him in anticipation, arching his head back further to give more access to the rainbow drinker. It should feel wrong to want to be bitten this bad, but it sure as hell didn’t feel wrong; in fact it felt so, SO RIGHT. He verbally moans when those teeth sink in, the hand still against the desk clenching and he was sure if he hadn’t been wearing gloves there would be deep scratches in the wood. Damn that felt good and even better now that he didn’t have to hold back for the sake of ‘behaving himself’.

Once she hits a vein, and feels his pulse pumping blood into her bite, she pulls out cautiously and attaches her lips firmly to his skin, letting out a muffled groan as his blood hits her tongue. She doesn't think she could ever tire of the taste, thick and sweet and decadent. It's the rainbow-drinker version of dark chocolate.

Her arms slip around his neck, clinging to him as she takes from him, relishing the taste of warm blood. It's a nice change from refrigerated human blood from the bank; there's just something better about it when it's fresh. He'll notice that, as always, she grows noticeably warmer, and her skin starts to take on a faintly indigo tint, a by-product of his blood rising to the surface of her skin.

Instantaneously his hand buried itself into her hair; right now being one of those moments he wants to just push those fangs in deeper. But he doesn't, letting her drink at her own pace but still letting her know what he'd like. His other arm wraps tightly around her waist, pulling her in close so he can get more of that warmth. He was never one for the cold, always preferring low bloods, and especially those that expressed life to the fullest. It had taken him awhile to find the same fire brewing in Porrims soul, but eventually it had caught his heart within its flames. He was going to enjoy living with her, and learning more about her.

To the human onlooker they just looked like a couple who was hugging each other, celebrating as a boyfriend moved in with his girlfriend. If only they knew…

She's bent up into him, tucked neatly into his body, sucking and lapping at his neck, but she can feel his muscles tense with the effort of bending down for her, and she has another idea. Hesitantly, she pulls back, not worried about the wound because she knows that he heals quickly. Instead, she reaches for the hand that's buried in her hair, tugging the glove off with her teeth and then kissing into his wrist. She looks up from where her nose is buried against his palm, giving him a questioning glance.

"May I..?

He sinks into the feeling of her mouth against his neck, eyes closely and nearly purring before she separates herself. He nearly whines, looking down at her wondering why she stopped. But then he notices, and feels, as she takes his hand and pulls off his glove.

Okay, he can get down with this.

But with her question comes confusion, blinking slowly at her and wondering what she means. She’s so close to his wrist he can feel her breath against his pulse.

…Oh…

His eyes widen a little and he nods, fuck yeah you can. He tilts his head and watches her closely, interest shining in those dead eyes.

Her lips curve against his wrist, smearing black lipstick, and then she hums in meditation before going ahead and sinking her top fangs into his wrist. The sound of his flesh tearing is just audible over her breathing, already noisy from beginning to feed. God, she loves to dig her teeth into him—and something tells her he doesn't mind it, either. So she leaves them in for now, lips curving around his skin and tongue tracing lightly below the point of entry.

A shiver runs through his body as she hums against his skin. It felt more sensitive than ever now that he knew what she was up too. Sometimes he wondered if she teased him on purpose or if it was all in his head.

He couldn't hear it like she could, but he could see it and god it just blew his mind. As those fangs tore into his skin he gasps, fingers twitching from the sharp pain. But soon that pain turned into pleasure and keens at the feeling of that tongue. This was new yet oh so familiar, and perhaps that’s why he was so eager and sensitive. He closes his eyes for a moment to cool his head, but he could feel his blood well up around those fangs, forcing it’s way to the surface.

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