50 years later meme

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Fast forward into the future of Station 72 where your character has been a part of the Hive for however many years. Are they still themselves? Have they integrated fully with the symbiote? Are they the only ones left of their brood? Have they formed other connections in their brood's absence? Do they remember anything of their life before the station? How do they relate to the other Hosts still around, or to new ones who have come in since others have fallen? What else can you come up with?


HOW TO PLAY
STEP ONE: POST WITH YOUR CHARACTER

STEP TWO: Either set up the scene or give some info of what your character is like X years down the line.

STEP THREE: TAG OTHER PEOPLE'S CHARACTERS

STEP FOUR ?????

STEP FIVE: PROFIT

Comments

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ If Sam does his job right - he'll make Kavinsky forget about all of those other times tonight. He's not planning on this being a one time thing, so it's not like he has to try to fit five years worth of payout in one night, but he sure as hell is going to try anyway.

Hopefully Kavinsky has learned not to mind constant talk, seeing as Sam doesn't even need to breathe to keep it up anymore. Kavinsky'll adjust, even if Sam has to tie him down for it.

He doesn't slap Kavinsky's hands away, but he doesn't move to help, either, mostly because he doesn't want to let go. Instead he presses a little harder with his thumb against Kavinsky's throat until there's a clear indent in his skin - not for a warning, just because. Because he loves getting to put an edge to his gentleness, and he knows Kavinsky wouldn't appreciate it otherwise.

Sam's dick is already half hard when Kavinsky frees it, and he rolls his hips slow and easy, rocking Kavinsky's body against the railing he's trapped by. ]

( So demanding. You in a hurry to get this over with, huh? Way I see it, we got all night. ) [ He does drag his hand lower, though, palming over the head of Kavinsky's cock before he gets a good grip on it and starts stroking. ] ( How about this - I'm gonna jerk you off nice and slow, and you can tell me if you wanna come like this or you wanna wait for something more. Better make it good, though, 'cause it's the last time you're gonna get to make the call tonight. )

[ He's got two plans for how he wants to spend the rest of the night with the kid, and both of them sound pretty damn great to him. Might as well let Kavinsky pick, even if he doesn't exactly know what he's choosing. ]

[100mitsubishis]

[The way Sam sees it is ludicrous; the only way they could spend the whole night together would require the fight down below metamorphose into a war of attrition. That, or they could begin act two after a brief intermission in which they'd abandon the planet. Kavinsky snorts as he allows his thoughts to stray--only for a second--to how the hive would take being subjected to that. He can practically hear the yowling already. But they'd enjoy it, too. We always do, Kavinsky thinks, right before Sam does as he's told and touches Kavinsky's dick head on. Assuming there is a God, He must have made extra time for Sam's making; he's so hot Hell has to be colder to compensate.

K's high, now fueled by more than what he took off the railing, stutters when he's given options followed by what sounds suspiciously like a threat. Heat coils around Kavinsky's spine, descending to his tailbone after taking a pit stop at his gut. He's followed Sam's orders in the past, but only for missions where K was an asset due to his supernatural talent and eagerness to cause commotion. No one ever wanted K to put together a strategy. The same is being asked of him now: trust Sam to come up with a viable plan, pick the weapon that'll get 'er done.

No. Kavinsky lunges forwrad, snapping his teeth like anything he can do will intimidate Sam into taking it back. K knows best he's all bark when his cock's finally getting the attention it deserves. At the same time he shows off his incisors, upper lip curled, Kavinsky humps his dick up into Sam's hold.]

( Hey--fuck you. I'm making all the calls, man. Bend over. )

[Lest Sam think he actually caused an upset, K issues his demand without removing either of his hands from Sam's crotch. His fingers sample skin in taps and strokes; he learns Sam's shape without ever giving him a fist to fuck. It's the coke mixed with an ingrained series of behaviors that promise death should K ever go too still.

Another explosion blisters the sky behind Kavinsky orange-red-white. He's made less human in its glow, and there's no question of whether that's how he'd prefer to be seen.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ All right, all right, maybe not constant all night - but that's exactly what he's gonna be angling for. Their part in the fight is done, no reason not to spend the rest of it like this and then pick right back up once they're back on the Station.

He can feel the way his words spread heat in their wake, grins at the way Kavinsky bares his teeth in response. Sam knows Kavinsky now, has too much of him under his skin and in his mind, and between the teeth snapping and the roll of Kavinsky's hips, Sam knows which one he's gonna listen to. ]

( That's how it is, huh? You know exactly what you want? )

[ The too light touches are exactly what Sam wants right now, honestly. He likes it, the here and there grazes of Kavinsky's fingers, enough to keep him interested but not much else. Still, he pulls his hands away, but only enough to start pushing Kavinsky's shirt up. Sam tugs the front half over his head, hooks it behind his neck - and leaves it there, distracted.

He gets his mouth on Kavinsky's neck, teeth grazing sharply down the line of his throat before he kisses his way back up. He doesn't have to take his mouth from Kavinsky's skin to talk, but he does anyway, because he wants to see the way the explosion lights his boy up. And wonders briefly if Kavinsky would protest that, would mean it if he did, but decides he doesn't care. There's admiration obvious in his gaze. ]

Look at you. [ It's a low murmur, rough with desire and the fact that he just doesn't talk out loud as much as he used to. ] The fire's got nothing on you.

[ Then he turns his attention back to Kavinsky's shirt, pushing it down over his shoulders - and aiming to use it to pull Kavinsky's arms behind his back, to hold it tangled around his wrists. ]