come, little birdies

[numbers96]

[One of the fountains in the square is acting a bit odd.

Instead of flowing with water, it's dripping with strange, black sludge, mottled with some sort of violet liquid.

Approach?]

Comments

[numbers96]

[The struggles don't seem to discourage it at all -- in fact, it presses in closer, and when he starts to flick his tongue it takes hold of the tendril and pushes it an inch or two further into Mizael's mouth, to take advantage of that as well.

It trembles in its bliss, "skin" beading with droplets of purple moisture that eat slowly at Mizael's clothing, and it strokes at his cheeks just shy of where his lips are stretched around the tendril.]

Go on, little bird, go on...

[And then he swallows, finally, and it sighs in contentment, moving one hand down to massage his throat and encourage the same to happen again.]

That's it...drink, Barian, let me in...

[tachyondragon]

[ Once he's started he can't stop, not with the Number's hands massaging his throat and forcing him to swallow. The liquid burns all the way down his throat and he shivers and squirms.

It seems to drain all the strength from him, because he's stopped struggling now, and even if he could he doesn't have the power to anymore. He feels weak and numb and he hates it because Mizael is anything But that. He wants to scream and struggle until he can't anymore, until the starlight fades from his body and he's no longer alive.

(he wants to struggle, he can struggle, but his body won't)

And then the breeze hits his skin and he shivers even more and what is this Numbers going to do to him--

(the liquid is warm, his body is cold, and some traitorous part of his mind thinks to drink more) ]

[numbers96]

[It croons out its approval when Mizael swallows again, wrapping both of its legs around one of his as a tendril lifts the limb up so it can rub against Mizael as it speaks.

(attaching itself, like a parasite, feeding off his weakening mind and adding to its own pleasure)

When it opens its mouth to speak again, the words are layered over themselves, shifting between odd, alien harmonies.]

Ｙｏｕ’ｌｌ　ｂｅ　ｓｏ　ｍｕｃｈ　ｂｅｔｔｅｒ．．．

Ｈｕｍａｎｓ，　Ｂａｒｉａｎｓ，　ｔｈｅｙ　ａｌｌ　ｗａｎｔ　ｔｈｅ　ｓａｍｅ．．．

Ｙｏｕ’ｌｌ　ｂｅ　ｈａｐｐｉｅｒ　ｔｈｉｓ　ｗａｙ．．．

[Tentacles smooth over Mizael's skin and peel away the scraps of fabric left on him, and one begins to creep up the inside of his thigh.]

[tachyondragon]

[ ｓｏ　ｍｕｃｈ　ｂｅｔｔｅｒ

(would he really be better for this? to be under this Number's control and mercy? his pride screams no but his body screams yes and he, himself, is caught)

He inhales again as the tentacle slides up his thigh, and it sends sensations all through his lower regions and what is this Mizael thinks because this is foreign and new and. and strangely. good.

(but then it says ｈａｐｐｉｅｒ and) ]

Mmph...!

[ ｈａｐｐｉｅｒ

That word is a catalyst, and suddenly it's as if his whole body has regained his strength and he's struggling and fighting and coughing and coughing to try and expel this foreign substance.

(he sees flashes of a golden dragon and high mountains and a temple)

(flashes of white tunics and warm scales)

(and he thinks that's--that's his happiness; on mountains too high to climb, embraced by creatures too misunderstood to be understood--ripped away so quickly that he can't even remember anymore--)

He's not going down, not yet, not yet--

(his lapis glows again, almost gets back its usual shine and he tries to shake and get this parasite off of him)

(the smoldering starlight sparks) ]

[numbers96]

[It can feel Mizael sparking, feel that his light is threatening to overwhelm, but it needs this new pet--

unless...

(there's a way to make its hold on this Barian so much fuller, so much stronger)

The tendril in Mizael's mouth gushes liquid one last time and suddenly they're all withdrawing, dropping Mizael's naked body on the wet flagstones as the slime retreats back into the fountain.]

...but, if you won't be good...maybe you don't deserve my power.

Think about it, won't you, little Barian?

[And then its body melts, all at once, and as its mass slips back into the drain the water of the fountain grows clear again.]

[tachyondragon]

[ He hits the ground with a thud, and the air is knocked out of him for a split second, but it's back as soon as it went and he's breathing again. He coughs, spits out the last spurt of liquid deposited into his mouth, and forces his jaw shut.

(that was too close, he was too close)

(even now he can still feel its tendrils running over him like a pet being stroked) ]

Nngh.

[ He wipes his mouth and exhales, finally. Next time, he needs to be able to fight this Numbers, and whatever it was planning on doing to him.

(next time? why would he ever come back?)

(some part of him says he has to)

He opens a portal with his depleted reserve and teleports away--preferably to get some new clothes now that his old ones no longer exist. ]