Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 9, 2014 22:56:52 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ It had been almost two weeks since the escapade with Rafael, and things were finally starting to settle. Tamiel had felt bad leaving before things were resolved, but he still didn't feel as though he was really supposed to go home. He'd been away for... at least a month, now, and it had taken a toll on his funds. The toll, of course, would have made much more of a dent if he hadn't been rewarded handsomely for his generous donation of blood to the Council (a substance that they were now jokingly referring to as Tami-Sun or Sunny T, depending on who you asked). He had a feeling that he was still wanted in-town for a bit while they figured out all the side-effects, but he didn't have a whole lot to do in the meantime. So he'd taken to bringing his notebook out to Central Park and writing down ideas for his next novel.
On this particular day, though, he'd taken quite an interest in a man with a sketchbook sitting not so far away from him that he'd caught looking at him at least twice now. Not that he hadn't also been looking at the other--he was quite attractive, and Tamiel hoped that this one wasn't a Thrall for somebody else. It was still light, though it was reaching dusk, so he couldn't have been a vampire. There were some who weren't affiliated with the vampires here, though they were fewer than those that were.
Figuring it was worth the effort, Tamiel walked up to the man with his usual slow, sensual glide and sat down near him--just far enough to make it seem like he wasn't trying to look over his shoulder, but just near enough to be able to catch a look at what was on the paper before he turned it away. Many artists were sensitive about their sketches in progress, and he was similar. He just wanted to know if he was the one being drawn. The style looked incredibly familiar to that of an artist he'd commissioned for a painting of one of his characters not so long ago, and it drew his interest.
"Hello," he started, voice low and sensual. "I was feeling a bit lonely over there, so I thought I'd introduce myself." He held out his hand with an easygoing smile, attempting to project an air of ease as he did so. He hoped the other man wouldn't run away from him--some of the more skittish types tended to do so. "Logan Holloway."
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 424 :: notes :: nerd :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: cheery, trying to put off easygoing sexy vibes ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 10, 2014 5:19:53 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 623 ]
MOOD [ star struck ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ Portal 2 soundtrack ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ mickey uses self destruct! it's not very effective... mickey fainted! ] | Mickey had been having a slow week.
He hadn't had many designing jobs, which was both a relief and a curse. On the one hand, he didn't think he had the energy to do to some housewife's penthouse the exact same thing he'd done to every single one of her friends' places – they never liked to give him room for creativity, those ones, they just wanted what everyone else had. On the other hand, however, that meant less money in his pocket, and less things to do with his day. To try and alleviate the inevitable boredom, he'd decided to drag himself to the park.
When Mickey went out, it was never just to go out. He didn't have many friends, even after living in this city for years, and he wasn't the type for quiet contemplation. For him, stepping outside the apartment meant sketching whatever and whoever caught his eye – and today, someone really had caught his eye. He'd sat himself down in an unoccupied bench, and from there had spotted a rather handsome man, someone who he was sure was completely out of his league, but someone who was definitely going to become the subject of his next painting, regardless. Mickey stole glances at him, trying to only look when his subject wasn't looking, and after a few good looks he began to sketch.
The first thing he felt when the other man began to move was disappointment – he'd only gotten a couple of face studies slapped down, he hadn't at all had time to go into dirty details, and he definitely hadn't had the chance to attempt anything full-body. But then it began to dawn on him that his subject was not leaving. On the contrary, and much to Mickey's horror, he was making a beeline right for him.
The strawberry blonde tried to control his own pulse, and failed horribly. He tried to stop his hands from shaking and also, unfortunately, failed. He eventually settled for shoving his face into his sketchbook, pretended that he didn't notice the other man and the direction in which he was headed. Maybe, if he hurried, he could make the sketches look like someone else--
“Hello.”
Fuck.
"I was feeling a bit lonely over there, so I thought I'd introduce myself. Logan Holloway."
Mickey had to force himself not to stammer or shake or just generally look like a deer caught in headlights. Logan Holloway? As in... the Logan Holloway, or as in another, unrelated Logan Holloway? Come to think of it, Mickey realized he really should have recognized the face of the author, especially as a fan, but photos and real life were two entirely separate things. He swallowed, opening his mouth to speak, closing it once he realized that no proper words were going to make their way out, and finally opening it once more when he thought he had composed himself once more.
“I... Michael Weiss,” he said, taking the other man's hand and shaking it firmly, if quickly. His accent had decided to turn Glaswegian in his nervousness. “M'... M' friend's call me Mickey. Are you...?” He felt stupid having to even ask if Logan Holloway was the Logan Holloway he was thinking he was, so he let the unfinished question hang there and hoped the other man knew what he was referring to.
Jesus, and if it was, what the hell was he wearing? Some stupid shirt his sister had gotten him because she'd thought it was funny (and, fair was fair, he thought it was funny too), some paint-covered ratty old jeans... he looked a bloody mess. He suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious than he had a few minutes ago.
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
|
Post by Tamiel on Aug 10, 2014 15:32:21 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ Suppressing a grin, Tamiel focused inward and tried his best to keep his breathing steady. His empathy had gotten better--he was able to tell more than just sadness, now--and he was detecting nervousness, self-consciousness, and just a speck of repressed emotion that he'd only ever been able to mentally describe as "oh no he's hot." That one he'd come to expect, especially with the shirt Mickey was wearing displaying his sexuality clear as day. This was good. This was... this was very good. It might even end well for the both of them, for once, especially if this Mr. Weiss was the type to keep up on Twitter feeds of those he knew about. Of course, he was assuming that there were no Americans of considerable fame named Logan Holloway, but he doubted it. Besides, this one sounded like he was from the Britain area, which was where most of his fame was contained.
"Mmm..." Tamiel hummed, "if you're referring to the English novelist of the same name... yes. I am that Logan Holloway." His tongue slipped outside his mouth and wet his upper lip slightly before he'd noticed what it was up to, and he quickly withdrew it. He didn't want to make it too obvious.
"By the way. I caught a glimpse of what you were drawing." Before Mickey had the time to look horrified and bolt, he smiled. "Don't worry, I didn't catch much. I just recognized the style. I believe I commissioned one of my characters from you some time ago. I'm... actually quite a fan of your art, myself." He did his best to scoot closer without Mickey noticing too much. "I'd like to get to know you better." Maybe his eyes did scan over Mickey's body when he said that. Was it really all that important? He hoped his natural grace and sex appeal would be enough to get the point across, though. He didn't really like being blunt about it.
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 327 :: notes :: hte sex :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: sensual as heck ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 10, 2014 22:34:10 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 407 ]
MOOD [ flustered ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ Portal 2 soundtrack ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ mickey. mickey stop with the words quit that. shh. stop talking. ] | Oh. Oh, my god. Oh my god. This isn't bloody happening. This can't be bloody happening.
Mickey was close to hyperventilating from sheer excitement. Not only was he talking to the Logan Holloway, one of his absolute favorite authors, but the Logan Holloway knew who he bloody was. And on top of that– on top of that, he was a fan who had commissioned him. Now that Logan had brought it up, Mickey could actually remember the piece in question; he'd been very fond of it, though he'd lamented not being able to have a proper conversation with someone who he'd thought, at the time, was a fellow fan. Mickey felt like his brain was short circuiting. He felt like he was in a dream that he couldn't wake up from, but in an actual sort of good way. He just... he couldn't mess this up. He could not, under any circumstances, fuck this up as royally as he fucked up most of his face-to-face meetings.
God above, though, is he attractive... Mickey bit his lip, unable to stop himself from glancing down at Logan's own mouth and having to quickly meet the other man's eyes again to try and cover his slip. He was afraid of the observational skills he was sure the other man had – he was a fellow artist, in a sense, and he had caught him sketching. Mickey swallowed. He wanted to move closer, to sneak a touch to try and get a snapshot of Logan's mind, but he didn't dare. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if it would work; when they had shaken hands, he hadn't felt a thing.
“I...” He hesitated, then turned the sketchbook in Logan's direction, face going beet-red. “It was... you that I was drawing, actually. I-I'm sorry, I didn't actually realize it was you you, but I... I thought you were han– you caught my eye. And I wanted to draw you.”
Bloody smooth.
“God, it is– it is such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hollo–” No, no, too formal. Jesus. He's not your design professor... but okay, fair's fair, he does look like him. “–Logan? Is it okay if I call you Logan? I'm sorry, I jus'...” He gave a little laugh, rubbing at his neck. Finally, he began to relax, and his eyes softened just a touch. “...I'd like to get to know you, too.”
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 11, 2014 15:14:43 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ Tamiel's eyes were drawn instantly to the art, and though it was only a few face studies, the fallen angel felt the breath catch in his lungs. He knew that people found him attractive. That much was obvious, and Mickey had been no exception. But the artist had seemed to capture the essence of him with a few lines on a paper. He'd noticed things about Tamiel that the demon had never caught while examining himself in the mirror. A slow grin crept up his face, and he bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from appearing too giddy (though the corners of his mouth did not fall as he did). Maybe it was just because he was an artist, but Mickey had taken an active interest in Tamiel at least for the amount of time that he'd been drawing.
"I... I'm flattered," he said, his voice a little shaky. "People find me handsome quite often, that's nothing to be ashamed of. But it's rare that anyone draws me... and when they do, they're not of your caliber. If you can draw and talk at the same time, we can converse and I'd be more than happy to let you continue." God, he was grinning like an idiot now. His chest felt strange like it always did when someone took a special interest in him outside of something he could provide for them. He wasn't bitter when they didn't--after all, most often his special interest in them was for sex--but there was something very different about Mickey that he couldn't put his finger on. His stomach was doing weird things, too, and he could not stop smiling. Well. If that were the case, surely soon Mickey would think him a fool and leave in embarrassment. Then the feeling would leave. Probably.
"Of course," he murmured. "You can certainly call me Logan." He put his hand down beside him, a subtle invitation for Mickey to lay his hand there as well, if he felt like it. He wasn't certain he'd be taken up on it, but it was worth a shot.
"Tell me a little about yourself, if you don't mind." He felt like he was ready to open up to a stranger he'd only just met--well, and had commissioned and checked his deviantART at least once a week, but still--and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He was fond of lying, but he didn't want to lie to Mickey for some reason.
Maybe, he thought, Mickey was some sort of supernatural being with the ability to influence things to be drawn toward him. At this point, Tamiel didn't care.
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 443 :: notes :: WHAT A NERD :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: borderline smitten ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 14, 2014 21:56:23 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 548 ]
MOOD [ nervous/confused/attracted ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ Sweet Transvestite from Rocky Horror ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ fucking dorks ] | At first, Mickey was half afraid that Logan was about to shout at him, curse him, drive him away. Sometimes, people got angry when he drew them – and he didn't blame them for that, he didn't, but it was always... disheartening. Logan inhaled sharply, and Mickey froze like an animal in headlights, waiting with baited breath for him to speak.
"I... I'm flattered . . . it's rare that anyone draws me... and when they do, they're not of your caliber.”
That, and the permission to continue drawing him, made Mickey grin like the giddy idiot that he was.
Almost immediately, his pencil was back to the paper. If nothing else – if they never spoke after this, if they ended up just not being interested in one another – he wanted to capture this man. There was something almost unearthly about his looks; it wasn't quite what you would call “alien beauty”, but it was definitely inhuman, in ways even Mickey with his trained eyes could not explain. He wanted to capture that, have a record of it... Hell, he wanted to paint it. Though he wasn't sure, really, if he'd be able to get it right with a brush in his hand, not if he didn't have Logan sitting right in front of him.
“I... You really think I'm that good?” The words “of your caliber” had just registered with him, and Mickey had begun to blush; he glanced up, both to check a detail, and to try and catch a glimpse of Logan's eyes without Logan catching a glimpse of his.
"Tell me a little about yourself, if you don't mind."
He hesitated, looking for the right words. “I... there's not a lot to say about me, no' really.” Now that he had calmed, his voice was a lot less Scottish; it rang much more more of the streets of London, where'd he'd lived as a child. “I draw and paint for extra cash, and because I love it. I'm an interior designer by trade. I... I have a twin sister.” The blonde bit his lip, eyes flicking upwards again. What the hell was acceptable “first meeting” fair? “We were born in London, bu' my aunt in Glasgow mostly raised us. I have a dog? 'M sorry, I'm... I'm bad at this.”
That's when he noticed the hand.
Logan had laid it down between the two of them, inside of Mickey's “bubble” but not quite close enough to cause discomfort. Normally, Mickey would not have reached for it; not only was he in the middle of drawing, they had also literally only just met. But... he was curious. And his telepathy only worked through touch. He pushed his pencil into the rings of his sketchbook, then let his hand lower.
The contact made his stomach do a little jolt, and his skin felt electrified, just for a moment. But as the moment passed, and his mind cleared, he felt the other presence. It was... Weird was the only was he could describe it. Definitely inhuman, to the point where it almost made his head hurt.
Without meaning to, he ended up sending out a feeling to Logan's brain, the equivalent of texting it with simply, ? ? ? ? ? ?
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
|
Post by Tamiel on Aug 15, 2014 0:39:58 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ Mickey's smiles made Tamiel's heart leap. This had happened before, many times, but combined with the strange feeling in his stomach, the demon knew something was different. It wasn't a bad different, just a very strange different.
"Of course I think you're that good," Tamiel said, smiling. "Your talent is obvious." The other man was blushing, and Tamiel seemed unable to stop himself from doing the same. There were a whole lot of red flags going up in his head--he'd felt these emotions before, but never to this extent. What the hell was going on?
"I suppose small talk is a little weird and doesn't say much about a person," he admitted, his voice quivering slightly. "But, um. Thank you for telling me. I think you sound quite interesting." When Mickey touched his hand, Tamiel felt validated. Like his advances had been met, and that things were going well. Then, an unwarranted confused feeling appeared in his mind, and his eyes widened.
Now more than ever he was certain that Mickey was influencing him. Perhaps he'd influenced him to come over in the first place. More red flags rose in Tamiel's brain, but they were quelled by sudden, raging lust. The slightly queasy feeling in his stomach must have been his resistance, he thought, and it would likely remain as a part of him rallied against this mental domination. But Tamiel didn't want to fight it. What harm could come of being toyed with by a non-angelic, attractive artist that was just as gay as he was? He opened himself up, laying himself bare for Mickey, and leaned in slightly.
God, he wanted to kiss him. He hardly even knew him and he wanted to kiss him. He blamed the obvious mind control, but that didn't make him want it any less. Hell, he'd probably have come over even if he hadn't been influenced to.
Briefly, the fallen angel thought of some of the things that Mickey might do to him via subtle suggestions, but tried not to linger. Better to focus on the present.
"I hope you don't do this to everyone," Tamiel commented. "That'd be quite heartbreaking for me." He realized what he'd said, then stopped cold.
He needed to calm down. He needed to be rational about this. He needed to think things through. He... he needed to stop thinking about how soft and pleasant Mickey's hand was on his, he needed to stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss every inch of him. He needed to stop thinking. Certainly Mickey was going to make him stop thinking soon--no. He couldn't start thinking like that, or else he'd be too far gone in thirty seconds.
Tamiel considered moving his hand, but in an effort to show his dominance in spite of himself, he left it there and locked eyes with Mickey. "So," he purred, his voice suddenly difficult to resist as his other hand cupped Mickey's chin, "tell me about your... special abilities."
He may have been irrevocably turned on by the idea of subbing to this man, but he wanted the both of them to be aware of the circumstances before making any rash decisions.
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 531 :: notes :: i need to come up with a name for this ability :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: definitely smitten ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 17, 2014 1:46:34 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 517 ]
MOOD [ literal panic attack just unable to show that ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ n/a ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [whispers i hope you're happy ] | At first, Mickey was content to just sit there, hand on Logan's, blocking out any sort of coherent thought but allowing the feelings to filter through. It was a bit to get used to – for whatever reason, they were much more potent than everyone else's that Mickey had experience with – but it was nice, once he calmed and let it all sink in. The headache even went away. The man smiled contentedly, using his free hand to brush his hair back.
But then Logan sent out shock, followed by what seemed to be awe, followed by– oh, dear god, he was turned on. Mickey immediately recoiled in his confusion at the sudden rush of emotion, only pulling back further when the other man started to lean towards him. Shit, what had he done? Shit, what did I do? It took him a minute to figure it out: he'd given himself away. He'd projected something without meaning to in his confusion, and Logan had felt him, and... and being inhuman as he was, he'd become intrigued as well as horny, of all things. Mickey swallowed, hard, blue eyes widening in what bordered on fear. Logan was much more intimidating like this.
"I hope you don't do this to everyone, that'd be quite heartbreaking for me."
“I– Do what? What did I do?” Mickey let out a little whimper, pulling his hands to his chest. His voice slipped back to Glaswegian as easily as it had earlier. “I was just... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was just tryin' t' get a little glimpse, was all, y' interested me, I– I didn't mean to intrude. I didn't read anythin' concrete, either, just emotions, tha's all, I swear. Nothin' else.”
Even as he prattled on about what he considered his innocence, Logan's hand rose to cup his chin. Mickey froze like a deer in headlights, his breathing becoming considerably faster and more shallow.
"So, tell me about your... special abilities."
Visibly, Mickey calmed. He began to breath deeply, his eyes drooped into something more normal, his heartbeat slowed. He even smiled a little, again, just the left corner of his mouth pulling upwards. The voice was so soothing, so soft, so beautiful, he found it hard to resist...
...and so, inwardly, he was trapped, beating against the cage of his body like a newly-caught bird. He wanted to stop himself from talking, from saying anything – he was scared, and rightly so. Flashes of the panic he felt went through him to Logan through their skin-to-skin connection; he couldn't hold them back.
And he spoke.
“Water. 'S it, mainly.” His voice was a soft, quiet croon. “I can manipulate it...” To demonstrate, he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out a bottle of the stuff. He opened it, then began to move his hand; a little trail of water floated out of the top, spinning around his finger as he bade it to. “And I can read minds, or let others read my own, if I'm touching someone – only if I'm touching someone.”
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 17, 2014 2:49:09 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ Shit, what did I do?
The confusion was a bit... well, confusing for Tamiel, but it hadn't been enough to keep him from acting. As his skin made contact with Mickey's face, he listened to the man talk about how he hadn't meant to intrude... but he spoke anyway, and then Mickey's appearance changed. The Divine Speech had pulled a mortal... or, he supposed, pseudo-mortal, under his sway. Though he'd gotten it back some time ago, he'd still missed it for the time it had been gone. He couldn't use it too much, surely not... but a few more words couldn't hurt, could it?
Especially since Mickey was giving away his panic in Tamiel's mind. The poor boy was terrified. It was only right to calm him down a little, to help him feel more secure. But first, he would allow him to speak as Tamiel had asked.
Nodding as he listened to the explanation, Tamiel processed the information. So he hadn't been controlling Tamiel at all. This had all been of his own volition. The strange confused feeling must've been a simple projection after their hands had touched... It was slightly disappointing, but far more relieving. Not to mention the water was interesting in its own right. He watched it swirl around Mickey's finger, smiling in the brief silence they held together. He was still so afraid. Tamiel closed his eyes, then opened them again to project as much kindness as he could.
"It's alright, Mickey," he said, a light smile spreading across his face. "You're safe with me. You can calm down, it's okay." His tone, though firm and commanding, was also similar to the way one might coax a frightened animal from a chair. He squeezed Mickey's hand with his own, the one not lingering briefly on his chin, then allowed the voice to drop with his other hand as the weight of mild exhaustion settled on his shoulders. The fingers on the hand still touching Mickey flexed slightly.
"I'm sorry about all that," he began, chuckling slightly. "I... I got a bit jumpy. You projected an emotion, and I'd thought that you had the ability to influence minds, rather than read them. I'm sorry I reacted the way I did." The lust was still pooled in his gut, though. That was fair enough, he supposed. He would've lusted after Mickey anyway. "In return, I'll tell you about my abilities. So that I don't surprise you again like that." Oh, here he went again, being honest to someone he hardly knew. Now that he had the Speech back, though... things would be easier if something went downhill.
"I can shapeshift, first off," he said softly. "But now's not exactly an opportune time to demonstrate. Second, I'm a Vessel of the Divine Speech. That's, er, that's what I've just demonstrated on you. When I speak in a commanding tone... others listen and do as I ask. It is quite tiring, though, so I try not to do it too much." Contemplating it for a few more moments, he finally added, "Third, I'm an empath. I, er, I'll admit. I sort of feed off of sadness--sadness makes me happier and more energetic. But I don't need it to survive, and I always try to help those that are sad so that they can be happy as well." That was it. He'd divulged too much information without realizing it until it was too late. He had to do something, something fast--
His first instinct was, apparently, to have giant black feathered wings pop from his back. Not the worst thing that could have happened... he supposed.
"And that," he added, giving a sheepish smile before realizing they were still touching hands. Mickey probably already knew he was lying. Shit.
"Okay, not really that," Tamiel admitted, though he didn't make the wings disappear--they simply drooped slightly to show his shame and embarrassment. "I, um. I know you didn't get a very good look. But I want to let you have one." Everything inside him that was less than noble was screaming no, that Mickey would run the instant he got a glimpse at Tamiel's true self, but there was a glimmer of hope and light inside him that offered the chance of something he'd been pursuing his entire life thus far. If the strange fluttering feeling hadn't been resistance against mental control... well, there were only so many other things it could be.
Bracing himself, Tamiel squeezed Mickey's hand again. "So if you want to... know more about me, since I've just forcibly invaded your privacy in a sense, I'm giving you express permission to look at whatever you'd like."
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 757 :: notes :: whispers back yes. yes i am :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: a bit scared, but very hopeful ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 24, 2014 2:32:18 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 578 ]
MOOD [ awe/admittedly a bit of lust i'm not going to lie ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ n/a ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ "i must paint you and also i must paint an abstraction of what your mind looks like hnnng" ] | At the sound of Logan's voice, Mickey's mind stilled to match his body. He supposed... he supposed that, maybe, he'd overreacted. In fact, he had overreacted – he'd been on the verge of a panic attack, and why? Logan had been curious. Mickey felt a bit guilty, having tried to read him in the first place. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, it was the worst way to get into someone's private business, even if you were just trying to feel what their mind felt like and not dig into any actual thoughts. He swallowed, his gaze dropping, his shoulders slumping.
“I mean, I... I don't blame you for gettin' jumpy, actually.” His voice was soft, sincere. He gave Logan's hand a little squeeze, gently running his thumb over the other man's knuckle. “I did it without permission or warnin'. I deserved to be jumped at, for that.” Mickey gave a small, sad smile. “I guess... I guess I'm just bad at this sort of thing. At the new people sort of thing. At the new, attractive people sort of thing.” His ears reddened; he couldn't help it, it was still weird to admit to finding someone attractive. He'd only ever had one long-term boyfriend, and that had been when he was a teenager, and that... hadn't ended well.
Just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.
He didn't want to be used again. He'd spent the whole of his adult life fighting against that and avoiding it at all costs – and perhaps that was the reason he hadn't had anyone else for long. Mickey had, admittedly, gotten a bit awkward around men, specifically men who were potential dates and not just one night stands, because he'd denied himself the experience of dealing with them. He'd also earned himself a case of mild paranoia.
The blonde listened intently as Logan spoke, his head slowly tilting and his hand returning the water he was still holding up to its bottle. The voice... that was what had made him panic, then, and that was what had brought him back down from it. On top of that, Logan was an empath. The two of those were scary, actually, in ways Mickey didn't want to think about – but he wanted to trust him, almost desperately so. There was something about Logan that seemed to call to him. The whole time, his stomach had been doing flips like he was still sixteen and naïve and reckless.
It was a nice feeling.
He was taken aback by the wings, even though the moment Logan realized they were still touching, Mickey knew they weren't real. The blonde looked at them in interest, hesitantly holding up his free hand. “Can... can I...?”
"I, um. I know you didn't get a very good look. But I want to let you have one."
Mickey was almost reluctant to take him up on the offer... but his curiosity got the better of him, as it always did. Slowly, he slipped deeper into the other man's consciousness, and was only reminded further of how tantalizingly different he was.
“You're hard to read, actually,” he murmured, a shudder rolling down his spine. His eyes softened in his awe. “You're... you're like light. And shadows. Hardly anything coherent, and almost all of it is painful, but,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “but beautiful. God, you're beautiful.”
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Tamiel
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Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 24, 2014 21:50:32 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ Mickey hadn't run from Tamiel, and that in itself was a whole new sort of invigorating.
Granted, he probably hadn't quite figured it out yet--after all, it was quite difficult for non-demons or angels to discern one of the Fallen when they saw one, even if they saw the inside of their mind. But he'd figure it out. And then he would run, and then Tamiel wouldn't have to get his hopes up. He hadn't gotten his hopes up in... what seemed like forever, and he didn't want it to happen again. They come, they bang, they leave. That was his lot in life. It wasn't a lot, but it was his life.
He hoped, more powerfully than he'd ever meant to while still allowing Mickey in his head, that maybe he'd have it all figured out and would stay anyway, because something just felt right about him. He felt like he could open up to Mickey without having to worry about him leaving, even though he was. So he opened up a little further, trying to let Mickey see anything and everything he wanted to see while keeping it as painless as he could.
"Yes," he murmured, nodding to Mickey's question. "I don't mind. They're quite soft."
It took him a moment to register the compliment, and when he did, he couldn't stop a smile from rising on his face. "Oh. Well, um, thank you." A small blush spread across his cheeks, and he squeezed Mickey's hand a little. "I get a lot of compliments on my appearance, but... I've never been told my thought process is beautiful. In fact, usually quite the opposite. Um. If there's anything I can do to make it more coherent or less painful, let me know." He tried to think more clearly and less loudly, to see if that would help Mickey. "If it's hurting you so much that you'd like to stop, feel free at any time. I don't mind, though."
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 329 :: notes :: what a nerd :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: uncertain, still hopeful ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 28, 2014 22:38:37 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 551 ]
MOOD [ shocked ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ n/a ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ notes here if any ] | Mickey reached out as soon as he was given the okay, his fingers brushing gently, carefully over the wing. One of his friends had had a bird, once, and the texture was exactly the same – except, of course, the feathers were much larger. He couldn't help but smile a bit, a blush starting to creep into his cheeks. The touching, and the mind-searching... it was odd to think about, but it was the most intimate he had been with someone in a while. It was certainly the fastest he'd gotten so close to someone.
It was enough to make him shudder.
“I'll be fine,” he murmured, licking his lips. “It... once I get used t' it, it doesn't hurt. I jus' don't think my mind has touched something like you before. Jus' something I need to adjust to, I think.”
God, he wanted to... he wanted to kiss him, honestly. He threw up a wall around that line of thought before it could escape, not wanting to embarrass himself even further. Either Logan was even more attractive than he'd initially thought (which was hard to accomplish, as Logan was incredibly attractive), or his latest testosterone injection was starting to make him feel more “antsy” than he rightly should. But you couldn't just kiss people you'd just met. It wasn't proper, and it was unwarranted and probably unwanted.
And he'd be lying if he said he only wanted to kiss, truth be told.
He threw a wall around that thought, too.
The lights and shadows in Logan's head were finally beginning to form pictures, shapes, and words, each one still dancing and vibrant, as if they were made of neon, but now dim enough that he could truly see what it was they were supposed to be. There was a lot of them, almost too much to take in, so Mickey kept flitting back and forth, his attention taken by anything and everything that jumped out at him.
“You're older than I thought, aren't you?” He meant it to be teasing; his lips curled up just slightly, though after a moment it was clear he was nervous about what he'd said. “I mean– 'S nothin' wrong with that, but that's... Well, I didn' expect it.”
A single memory suddenly flashed in front of him. He didn't quite grasp all of it; he just felt pain, suddenly, enough that he almost pulled away, and it took him a second to realize that it wasn't his own pain he was feeling. He held back the whimper he so desperately wanted to let out, another shudder running through him. There were chains – possibly metaphorical; a pit – probably literal; and the sense that he was going to be swallowed up by that darkness and never escape. A flashforward, and freedom was suddenly at hand, but he'd lost... he'd lost... something...
The muscles in Mickey's back tightened and spasmed, like someone was slicing through his shoulder blades, and this time the man really did pull away, staring at Logan with wide, horrified eyes. The false pain didn't stop as soon as he'd broken contact, instead taking time to gradually fade away. Mickey reached over his shoulder, gingerly touching the spot where he'd felt it.
“I... What... What are you...?”
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 28, 2014 23:30:28 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ “You're older than I thought, aren't you?”
Tamiel chuckled, just a little, then bit his lip. Mickey was so close. He was tempted to draw back, to pull away, but he couldn't. He'd already gotten this far. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft. "Yeah, I am."
The memory of the pain he'd suffered when he'd fallen ran through his mind, and he winced, his back arching slightly. Mickey pulled away from him, and there was no mistaking the look on the other man's face: terror. There was nothing else quite like it, and Tamiel could've felt it from a mile away. As Mickey stared at him, he felt his face fall, felt the pain and fear roll off of him. He could feel himself broadcasting his emotions--that wasn't supposed to happen--but there was something in him that was in hysterical waterworks, and it was taking all of his willpower not to break down with it.
“I... What... What are you...?”
Tamiel felt like he was going to lose his last meal. "I..." he started, his hands shaking a little. He had told himself he wasn't going to get his hopes up. He had promised himself. And now, he'd gone and gotten his hopes up. He barely even knew this man, and he was already experiencing... what, heartbreak? He supposed that was close enough--he was on the borderline of rejection, and Mickey had already seen too much to believe any lies he tried to weave unless they were more intricate than Tamiel could currently weave given his emotional state.
"I used to be an angel," he said quietly, taking such a firm grip on his elbows that his knuckles turned white. "Was a messenger. One of God's professional liars. I'd tell people it'd all be okay when I knew it wouldn't. I got a promotion, I was so good at it." Taking a deep breath, Tamiel tried and failed to rein in his fear of Mickey's rejection. He hadn't felt this strongly in... centuries, and he couldn't figure out why he was now.
"I got promoted. Watched humanity for a while. Then... interacted with them. Fell in love with them. Took them as lovers. I taught them things they weren't supposed to know, about the stars and abortions and about harming one another. I'd meant for it in a consensual context, but... they got out of hand very fast. Myself and the other Watchers... we fell from Heaven. We were bound in a valley. Stayed there for... too long." He felt heat on his back. He knew it was imagined, but it was like he felt his wings burning all over again. Maybe the wings on his back were actually burning. He wasn't about to look.
"Then we were found by Lucifer. He... gave us the choice. We could either remain bound until we drowned in the flood, or we could join his side and eventually fight against God." With a shudder, Tamiel closed his eyes. "Not a single one of us chose to stay bound. We all became..." The word stuck on his tongue, somewhat foreign and inappropriate. "D-demons." He'd stuttered slightly, and he took a heavy, shuddering breath as he bowed his head. "I just wanted to see the humans again. I just wanted to be able to live. I didn't do anything wrong." Tears were starting to stream down his face, now, and try as he might, he couldn't stop them. "I taught people how to be happy. I taught them new ways of being happy. Knifeplay wouldn't even exist if it weren't for me. BDSM wouldn't exist! I wanted them to do it safely, and... I... I didn't want it to happen the way it did." He curled into himself on the bench, his elbows touching his knees.
His mouth said, "I'm sorry. You should... you should probably go," even as his emotions said, "I need a hug, and I think I love you. Please don't leave me."
With his eyes squeezed shut, Tamiel waited to hear the sound of Mickey standing up and running as far away as he could.
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 684 :: notes :: ANGST AHOY :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: hurting, scared ::
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Mickey Weiss
he/him/his
Artist
Single
Homosexual
Tony
11 posts
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Post by Mickey Weiss on Aug 30, 2014 2:16:45 GMT -6
WORD COUNT [ 474 ]
MOOD [ reassuring ]
OUTFIT [ click! ]
MUSIC [ Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion soundtrack ]
TAG [ Tamiel ]
NOTES [ mickey uses Mom Voice. it is hopefully super effective ] | Even though they weren't touching any more, Mickey could taste Logan's emotions in the air. Fear, hurt... They were salty and metallic, and they left a sourness in the back of Mickey's throat. The blonde swallowed, as if that would rid his mouth of them, but of course it didn't help. Logan was scared. And it didn't make sense as to why, until Mickey heard his explanation.
It was a lot to take in, the fact that he was sitting right across from an angel – a fallen angel, mind you, but an angel nonetheless. The term “demon” just didn't seem to fit Logan so well, for reasons Mickey couldn't quite put his finger on. It was funny, now that he thought about it. He'd named himself after an angel, after all, in some sort of mockery of his quest for goodness and as a pun on the name he'd been given at birth. He was next to a twisted version of something he had strived so desperately to emulate.
But he wasn't scared, that was the thing. Even as Logan named himself demon, Mickey couldn't find it in him to be afraid – and he was so, so afraid of so many other things that other people would call insignificant compared to this. Mickey just felt... sorry for him, of all things. As Logan began to cry, the blonde could feel his heart squeeze, and he could hardly take it any longer. He reached out, starting to wipe the tears away from the other man's face.
"I'm sorry. You should... you should probably go."
“No, no,” he murmured, both voice and expression soft. His thumbs brushed under the other man's eyes, and he made little shushing sounds. “Logan Holloway, you stop that this instant. You're alrigh'. 'M not goin' anywhere. I jus'...
“I pulled back because the memory hurt, 's all. You didn't scare me, it did.” He cupped Logan's face in his hands, trying to smile for him in the hopes that sort of expression would make his tears stop. It just ended up looking sad, though, probably due to the fact that Mickey was trying not to cry, himself. Waterworks just set off a reaction in him; he couldn't help it.
Almost inappropriately given the situation, he kept going back to the BDSM comment. So, this was not only a fallen angel, but a kinky fallen angel. That... that could actually be pretty interesting, if this led to anything. If this leading to anything didn't end with Logan balking at what was under Mickey's trousers and pants – and he didn't mean the silicone packer, though that probably wouldn't help. He remembered one would-be partner pulling that out of his pants on accident in the moments leading up, and that had been enough to make him run.
post template by Tony |
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Tamiel
he/him/his
Fallen Watcher
Single :(
Homosexual
Sunny
82 posts
birb
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Post by Tamiel on Aug 30, 2014 3:09:56 GMT -6
[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"] i'm one part saint and two parts sinner and the last part is still on the line
logan holloway
~~~~~~~~~~ The thing Tamiel had expected second-least was for Mickey to stay, and the thing he'd expected least was what came next--the reassurance and comforting. So many before him had run at the first sight of Tamiel being a demon. Hell, Raf had trouble trusting him, and he'd gotten into scrapes with Aleena because of who he was--because he was deemed untrustworthy by nature. Tamiel would far prefer to have been proven untrustworthy by his actions.
Mickey was choosing to trust him, to speak soothing words and to wipe away his tears that seemed to be turning themselves off already, and that meant more than he knew how to articulate. He savored the contact of Mickey's hands on his face, watching his expression strain, and blinked away the tears that remained, slowly drawing his emotions back into himself. Then, as if drawn to Mickey like a magnet, Tamiel wrapped his arms around the other man and buried his face in Mickey's shoulder.
"Thank you," he murmured, quivering slightly. "You're... you're not running, and you're not trying to use me for something. That means more than I'll ever be able to articulate." With a deep, shuddering breath, he continued, "You can... you can look, if you'd like to feel it and you feel like you need permission. The fall is the worst of it, so you can... do what you were doing before if you want."
Shaking his head into Mickey's shoulder, he chuckled slightly. "I am so sorry. We've only just met properly and I'm already telling you all my dark secrets and letting you poke around in my mind. That's got to be weird. I'm... honestly surprised that you haven't run by now." And he was. Anyone else would have.
That wasn't to say he wasn't glad, though, and maybe a little bit glad below the belt again as well.
~~~~~~~~~~ word count :: 310 :: notes :: last post so big. this post so small :: tagged :: Mickey Weiss :: outfit :: here :: mood :: grateful ::
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