December Catch-all(-ish) [Open]

[odinpusrex]

WHO: Barnabas, his Behemoth (the monster, not the, oh nevermind--), and YOU!
WHEN: All through December baby!
WHERE: Mostly Stonhyrr, but some threads could be elsewhere too!
WHAT: Oh you know, big ol' fortress showed up, there's also a giant muscle cat, maybe people wanna see the fortress. Maybe they're gonna get mauled by a cat. The world is our oyster. Also going to use this for general purpose threads, doesn't have to be Behemoth related!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will update as necessary!

While Barnabas has never proven himself the social sort, ever intending to remain as such, when people come to Stonhyrr to inspect it, they will not necessarily find him there to greet them. This does not mean that Barnabas is not within the bounds of Stonhyrr, he most assuredly is, but he has no interest in playing host. That is, unless he is given reason to.

What most will find is a singular bridge that connects the imposing fortress to the mainland, and the waters around it prove unnaturally violent. As if the very place itself causes the waters to churn and clash wildly against the jagged rocks which act as the foundation for the whole thing. The bridge is wide enough to adequately fit a pair of carriages, or cars if that better serves. The stone is sturdy, so there isn't any worry about weight being an issue. Most certainly not when one arrives at the arena that acts as a mid-point for the bridge.

There are no guard rails around it as the bridge possesses otherwise, just a sheer drop off into the treacherous waters below. Certainly a poor fate to any, whether they survive the fall or not. A fate all the more possible given the snow and bits of ice that has accumulated upon the structure. Even furthering the difficulty to avoid it, should they find themselves greeted by the bridge's guard: the Behemoth. From its rocky perch it will land with the grace of a feline, but with the impressive force of a creature befitting its size. More than twice the height of an elephant, and thrice as wide, the hulking beast will stare down the interloper(s) with murderous intent. Intent it means to make good on.

However, not everyone who crosses the bridge will meet the beast there, and should they find themselves able to make it to Stonhyrr proper, getting through the metal gates and into the winding outer paths that encircle the central castle, they will find it depressingly...empty. What living quarters there seems to be are indeed stocked with beds and linens, oddly enough, but as all else in Etraya that is not inhabited by those whisked away from their homeworlds, there is no one. They are modest, however, what one might expect for those living as communal soldiers in a medieval era.

Though, should they linger for too long, they might hear the telling breaths and foot steps of a prowling beast searching for the scent its picked up. Perhaps hiding isn't a terrible option, but who knows how much the creature cares about the architectural integrity of whatever part of the fortress they're in! Only one way to find out.

Some of the internal buildings are not merely for housing soldiers or weaponry (though said weaponry is distinctly missing presently). One may find themselves stumbling upon an podium of some sort, with six-legged horse statues on either side. The shape of the room almost suggests an arena of sorts, and the podium seems to embolden this suggestion. Perhaps it might have been a room to judge contests of combat and the like. Who is to really say? Should one linger here overlong, they might find themselves no longer alone. At least, they certainly feel as though someone is in the room with them. Someone watching them, perhaps from the shadows, or from above...

Those lucky enough to make it to the docks will find them bereft of any ships of any kind. It's clear that there probably should be some, but whoever brought this fortress in clearly did not bring any of his ships along! Though, one might take an interest in the surrounding area, and the structures nearby. Most will be empty, some with myriad things like rope, or scant pieces of wood, perhaps an empty crate or two, but it is, like most else, otherwise hollow. There are more of those weird horse statues though... The place is anything but bereft of them.

If it weren't for the behemoth prints left in the snow throughout the wide outer paths of the fortress, and its eagerness to find (and remove) intruders, the place would otherwise seem completely abandoned. Between the snow, angry waters, flashes of lightning, and claps of thunder...the place is cold, oppressive, and desolate. Should one find a way to reach the entrance to the castle, they will be stopped short from reaching the door proper. Not by the behemoth, but by the sudden emergence of Barnabas himself. A billowing pillar of black mist will form from the ground, reaching roughly the height of a man, before Barnabas takes form and the mist disperses and dissipates.

There he will stand, staring down the intruder, waiting for an explanation.

(ooc: Feel free to place your character wherever around Stonhyrr, not only just the places mentioned. Barnabas will keep an eye on any aerial intruders as well (he can also fly). Just date your top level for when this is happening, and if you wanna plot something specific or have any questions, please do not hesitate to hit me up at Zornsable or on Discord(Zanono)! Feel free to have your own threads here too if multiple people are wanting to explore the grounds of the fortress (just specify in the subject line), I can provide information, a kitty, or an old man should it be needed! Anyway, enjoy this weird haunted-ass looking place, it sucks!

I will match style, prose or action are both good ✨)

Comments

[odinpusrex]

[There is both relief that fills him and dread that grips him as Cid flips him over. The mere moments the action takes feels like eons as his sensitive cock is fished out from beneath him (which he angles his hips to make the task simpler). He shudders at the feel of the fabric of the sheets and Cid's warm hand against it, but there is almost something more alluring about it being pinned back this way, otherwise neglected. Save for how his own balls rest upon the shaft of it.

That he can bury his face into the bed while Cid buries his cock deep within his core is its own blessing too. Barnabas is almost alarmingly easy to press into, the way he opens to Cid misrepresents his actual inexperience. Despite everything, Barnabas finds his body relaxed, wanting, and accommodating for Cid in ways he did not quite imagine himself capable.

His eyes are screwed shut, but his mouth hangs as his forehead presses against the mattress, hot breaths panting against it as his back flexes and his core begins to grip Cid once he's fully inside. His own cock leaking its excitement in a small wet spot at the tip, but he keeps himself still.

He wants Cid to properly claim him. If this is what he's truly doing, right now...]

Go on, then...

[levindicated]

[Cid’s breath hitches as he bottoms out, deep inside the other man. He drops his weight onto Barnabas’ back, fully meeting him skin to skin. He lays against him, head against his broad back as he lifts and tilts his hips to fuck him. It’s close, it’s intimate, it’s almost cuddling- Cid snakes an arm underneath him in any gap he can find. And then he’s just rolling his hips against the other man, fucking him like this is a private affair, like he’s fucking a pillow in the dark. Or like a rutting beast, taken by instinct alone.]

[He screws his eyes shut as he enjoys it, the press of their skin fully together, the heat of him. The smell- He groans as he adjusts his legs, finding a way in that strikes even deeper. He picks up the pace, fucking him hard and desperate, chasing, his hips slapping loudly against Barnabas’ soft ass.]

[He snarls against him, gripping him tight around the middle as he bites the flesh under his lips, animalistic in its intensity. ]

[odinpusrex]

[The animal yet intimate nature, something driven by the physicality, the almost gentle domination of it makes something snap in Barnabas' mind. The feel of Cid's bare skin to his, the smell of his scent, of their sex, the sound of their breath as Cid slides into him again and again...

His mind blanks and his body and soul gives into him. An euphoric haze infiltrates his mind, his senses, and the only thing that seems to keep him grounded into reality is every brush of Cid's cock against his prostate. Except each hit against it only feeds deeper this frenzy of pleasure, and he feels he might never escape this ruin.

He's not entirely sure he wants to.

Barnabas' body moves with Cid's, almost in perfect tandem, each rock he meets, each press he welcomes. His muscles flex and his hips quiver, but he accepts him each and every time. His hand grip at the sheets in lieu of anything better. and the fiery heat of Cid's hands upon him is truly transcendence.]

I...I am... [He huffs the words out, breathless and whining.] ...Claim me... Release yourself...

[A pleased groan as Cid hits his prostate again, his cock near ready to burst.]

[levindicated]

[Cid kisses down his spine as he lifts himself onto his hands for leverage, each on either side of Barnabas’ head. He adjusts his hips, and though he lifts himself, he does not move far from the other. The damp heat still runs from him to Barnabas, closing him in against the bed.]

[He fucks into him, Barnabas’ words grabbing his mind and flooding it. The desperation, the begging to be taken- how different this was from every time before when his words ran almost directly in contradiction to what he wanted, what they did.]

[He wants to resist, hold out, continue to fuck him at this punishing pace- But it feels entirely too good. When was the last time he did this? He doesn’t even bother to check on Barnabas. He would either come or he wouldn’t, and that was a problem that could wait.]

[Cid shifts once more, his nuts resting on top of Barnabas’ ass as he hammers into him, shallow and frantic, chasing his orgasm with single-minded focus. Cid moans, deep and reverberating against the back of Barnabas’ skull as the heat and friction finally builds and he begins to spill.]