polylogs | Time for a Cinnabon!

Entry tags:

Time for a Cinnabon!

✖ THE MALL

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
You step off the ferry and find there is no beach. No, the concrete wharf opens up to a vast, flat plain of pavement. It goes on, and on, and on. Sodium lights on tall poles are spaced at regular intervals, and as you move forward you notice white lines painted in neat rows.Those of you from a typical earth world might recognise almost immediately that you are, in fact, in a giant parking lot.

Up ahead you can see a vast building, a long rectangle flanked on either end by an even larger square. In the very center there is a large, triangular glass awning hanging over an entranceway composed of several automatic doors. There is neon tubing running along the inside of the awning, lighting up the glass so it is a beacon shining across the expanse of pavement you’re crossing.

That’s right, Travellers. We’re going to The Mall.

The building is huge - it takes a good hour to walk from one anchor store to the other at the opposite end. There are stores selling damn near everything - clothes, housewares, books, kitchen supplies, movies and music, electronics - as well as hair salons, nail salons, and a ton of kiosks. The merchandise being sold seems to be from different decades - anywhere from the 1970s to the late 2000s. You can find almost anything you could want!

The flooring is faux marble, the pillars decorated with brass detailing halfway up their length. Potted palms are set at regular intervals. The mall’s concourse is huge and open, with a glass ceiling criss-crossed with metal supports. A fountain jets water coloured by lights into the air over and over in the center of the concourse.

Escalators and an elevator run up and down to the second floor, where the food court is, which is a heaven, provided you’re too worried about MSG. Food from across every conceivable world exists here - no matter where you’re from, you can find a fast-food version of something you’re familiar with. And there’s an Orange Julius!

Truly, a paradise. Kind of weird that the automatic doors won’t let you out the way you came in, but you have everything you need right here! Just be really careful on those escalators - wouldn’t want to get sucked under. And by the way, what’s that noise…?

Notes:
1. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.

2. These prompts are a jumping off point - how they affect your character and their development is up to you.

3. Any food is safe to eat, and is consumable by non-human entities.

4. The people inside the mall are normal humans unless otherwise indicated. Killing them is possible and will affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation.

5. Have fun!

Ⅱ. BLACK FRIDAY
CW: violence, mob mentality
One of the mall anchors is a huge department store that sells everything under the sun. As you walk through the empty aisles, you’ll notice that there are signs hung everywhere that read “SALE!” Indeed, prices seem to have been drastically reduced. The place seems eerily calm, however; you can’t see any shoppers anywhere.

But if you walk close to the exterior entrance on the far side of the store, you will see them if you look outside.

Hundreds upon hundreds of people pressed up against the glass doors. With a start you see that all of them, from children to the elderly, are missing their eyes. Black, empty sockets stare sightlessly ahead. Store employees, recognisable by their red smocks, stand at the ready.

“Alright, let’s open her up!” one of them shouts, and the employees move to unlock the doors. Immediately the crowd surges forward. The employees pull each other out of the way moments before they can be trampled. The mob rushes through the entranceways, stampeding towards… towards…

Oh. You.

The mob lacks any empathy; people push and climb over one another, uncaring if anyone falls to the ground. You’re pretty sure several of them are actually being crushed beneath people’s feet. Oddly, they aren’t screaming in pain. People’s mouths are moving, but only to form certain words:

“FLATSCREEN!”

“INTELLIVISION!”

“TICKLE-ME-ELMO!”

They are only screaming what it is that they want. They are single minded in their purpose, and don’t care who they hurt in their pursuit.

Make your way to the entrance that opens into the mall and you’ll be greeted with a nasty sight: the gates are closed. No matter what you do to them, they won’t budge an inch, impervious to brute strength, magic, superpowers. That means you’ll have to find another way out if you don’t want to join in the bloodshed. Maybe there’s a ventilation system or a loading bay...

There’s a chance you could just hide out until the sale ends - a store this vast has more than enough food and drink to sustain you, and you could probably get a good night’s sleep in a camping display if it isn’t torn apart by rabid consumers. Just be careful, because the longer you spend trapped in the department store the more likely you are to turn into one of them: mindlessly screaming what it is you want as you tear the store apart.

Notes:
1. There may be a few Black Friday shoppers loose in the mall, but primarily they stick to the department store.

2. Your character might find a way into the mall again, or the parking lot outside. However they manage that is up to you!

3. If your character does turn into a consumer drone, they can be changed back by being taken out of the department store. Maybe go chill out by the fountain in the concourse or get some chilli fries in the food court.

Ⅲ. UNDERGROUND PARKING
CW: potential starvation, dehydration

If the two floors of the mall are for eating and shopping, where do the down escalators go? Unsurprisingly they lead to an underground parking lot. More surprisingly, if you choose to enter the lot you’ll find yourself suddenly transported to the inside of a car. What car? Any car! It sure isn’t yours! It’s locked and you can’t get the doors or windows to open. Even trying to break your way out is futile.

Thank goodness you have a way to call for help: your ScryWatch! Although you can still access the public network, your ScryWatch will also now function as a private one-to-one device like a phone or a walkie talkie. You can ask a friend to come and help you!

The second person entering the lot won’t be magicked away, but a friendly mall employee will stop you and hand you a set of keys. Clearly they go to a car… but which one? Better start pressing that alarm button, huh?

The parking lot is massive. The party in the car would be wise to describe what they can see to their seeker. After all, teamwork makes the dream work! You sure don’t want to be stuck in a warm car for a couple of days!

Notes:
1. Your character can post/call the network or text/call an individual - in the latter case nobody else can read or hear the conversation.

2. The car might have some goldfish crackers or something in the glove box, or maybe an old gatorade bottle on the floor, but there’s not going to be enough to survive on for any length of time.

Ⅳ. MANNEQUIN
CW: automatonophobia

As you walk through the mall, you’ll see plenty of window displays. Gleaming cookware turning on pedestals under mellow lights, toys going round and round in fake wonderlands, personalised miniature license plates - although they’re all out of Borts - and of course plenty of stylish clothes draped over countless mannequins.

It’s always fun to window shop, isn’t it? Which is how you will come to notice that some of the mannequins look awfully familiar.

Everyone has, at some point in their life, treated someone like they weren’t real outside of what you wanted them to be. The romantic interest you put on a pedestal, the friend you only called when you needed them, or the poor bastard in the office who never did anything to you but who you hated on because it made you feel better. The mannequins greatly resemble that person or persons.

No matter which window you pass, they’re there. It looks like they’re watching you. But that’s silly, isn’t it?

With every mannequin you pass, the more your unease grows. Eventually the feeling of being watched is so great that it’s overwhelming. A sense of guilt grows alongside your paranoia, gnawing at your guts until you feel physically ill. Maybe if you apologise to the dummies for treating them like objects?

Or maybe if you just break all of them into pieces.

Notes:
1. Stating how you have wronged the person the mannequin resembles and apologising will cause the guilt and paranoia to vanish. But then, so will breaking them.

2. Could the mannequins sneak up on you? Move when you’re not looking? Sure! the floor, but there’s not going to be enough to survive on for any length of time.

Come on Jessica, come on Tori! Let's go to the mall, you won't be sorry!

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Maybe more so.

Kyle loves kissing Quentin, taking his time while an incredible and simple horniness bubbles just below that patience.

He gnaws gently at Quentin's throat when he turns his head. "Is that what you think?" He lets go of Quentin and pecks him on the cheek.

"I'm just gonna grab my bag to put stuff closer." He slides out of bed to do just that, sitting on the edge of the bed as he rummages for lube and sexy wet wipes. Yes, he bought special wipes. He sets both of these on the display night stand before burrowing back under the covers.

"We'll go slow, I promise."

The laugh that gets out of him echoes through both their minds.

Quentin's own patience is running thin. He hates to be the first one to show signs of a faltering willpower but Kyle has a penchant for pushing the buttons that leave him mewling when Kyle pulls away. He drops back to the pillow with a huff and tries not to touch himself. An ambitious effort that lasts about thirty seconds. Right up until he finds himself watching Kyle's adorably perky butt.

He drags a hand down Kyle's lower back and pulls himself across the mattress to look at everything his partner's squirrelled away in his bag. It's a sight that seems incredibly optimistic about their future.

He kisses Kyle's hip. You don't have to go too slow. I can take it. He promises.

Kyle's extremely optimistic about their future and has zero intention of letting Quentin get away no matter WHAT reality comes next.

"I know you CAN," Kyle says as he runs a hand through Quentin's hair. His hips rotate very slightly towards him.

"But I want it to be good. Better than my first time."

It's sort of freeing he thinks. Not to be the one who's too hopeful and making too many assumptions. It's easier, he thinks, not to fear being himself.

"It's always good," he reminds, kissing down Kyle's thigh and running his hand along the soft inside of his leg, teasing his way closer to Kyle's hard on. All it takes it that little movement. That little stretch of his hip to set Quentin's mind spinning like a slot machine, scrolling through every potential option at hand. Images of Kyle's cock in hand. In mouth. Kyle on his feet. On his back. On his knees. Hands on Quentin's head, his back, his butt.

"Was your first time crappy?" he asks. His fingertips graze up the length of him.

"So far," Kyle points out. "And I mean... even when we inevitably have only okay times, in the far future and crap, that'll be fine. I just mean like..." He's babbling, because Quentin's hand is distracting.

"Not crappy," he focuses on. "But nerve wracking. Partly that's my fault for fucking an almost total stranger. But it was also kinda rushed, and kinda scary. It was mediocre. You deserve more than that."

He sighs and trails his fingers along the back of Quentin's neck. "What's comfortable for you? When you like, fuck yourself?"

"You're planning for ok times?" he snorts a little. It's easy to make fun of Kyle when he's babbling like that but truth be told there's something comforting about it. "Actually, that's kind of sweet. Dork."

"Your first time was with a stranger?" It's a bold move he didn't see on Kyle. Or he sort of did. The man did allude to that. But some part of Quentin struggled to believe it. Someone as emotional as Kyle seeking something rather transactional feels like an ill fit. "You've already got that beat by a million miles, babe." He smiles and looks up at Kyle as his hand closes around his partner's cock and steers him in for a lick.

"Uhmmm," he admires Kyle's cock as he contemplates that between tastes. "I'm usually on my back. Mostly because I'm lazy. But sometimes I'm on my knees. You know..." out of demonstration he shuffles his knees in until he's bunched there with his head in Kyle's lap and his ass in the air. "Get up here more, let me blow you a bit." He sways his hips a moment as he lowers his open mouth around Kyle.

Kyle shrugs, cheeks pink. "It's normal for there to be like, times that are less mind blowing in long term relationships," he says.

His blush only deepens, partly out of embarrassment and partly because watching Quentin is hot. "Second date," he admits. "I. Wanted to try it to see if I liked it. I was figuring a lot of stuff out at the time."

He snickers a little bit because Quentin is ridiculous, but he does as he's told and shuffles up. One of his hands rests on Quentin's shoulder, the other pulling at the sheets.

"Okay," he whispers. "Then. Uhm. Whatever position you want. I want you to be... oh, yeah. Uhm. Comfortable."

"You're so... domestic," he smiles adoringly. Kyle's not a regular guy. Even a few of his stories about growing up in South Park prove that. But it's heart warming to Quentin to hear how banal he thinks his own life is.

"And did you like it?" he asks. He thinks he knows the answer, but he likes hearing Kyle explain things in his own way.

Perhaps he's stoked to have the comfort of a big, excessive bed to be with his boyfriend in. Perhaps he's just horny. Whatever it is, he's eager to take Kyle in his mouth and already slipping into his partner's mind for memories of the last time they fooled around. Picking out the moments that sit closer to the surface because they've been revisited most often.

Missionary? So we can make out? he says. At least for a little bit.

"Shut up," Kyle mutters, embarrassed.

He nods. "Yeah. The, uhm, next time I tried it it was better, because I was less nervous, but it still wasn't amazing. It's, uhm. Never been amazing until I met you."

Kyle gulps air when he's swallowed, fingers gripping Quentin's shoulder. His most recently accessed memories are mostly of Quentin's face the last time they'd managed to have sex on the carnival island, thoughts of how he'd tasted and how good it felt to be pressed so close to him Kyle thought he might die happily suffocated by his warmth.

"Yes," he gasps softly.

If the idea of Kyle leaving his first and second sexual experiences feeling a little let down wasn't enough to play upon Quentin's heart strings he has to go and make it sappier. "mmmhhh!" he mumbles with his mouthful. you can't just say that! his voice in their heads rings out and then so does Quentin's actual voice.

"You can't just say that!" he repeats, sitting upright just to climb back up Kyle's prone body and kiss him on the mouth. "God you're so stupid sappy and sickeningly sweet I swear I could just—" whatever violence he was envisioning finds frustrating satisfaction in a force, hungry kiss instead.

"You're so fucking cute it makes me furious," he says through gritted teeth.

Kyle starts laughing, because wow, Quentin in stereo. "I am NOT sappy!" he protests after returning that kiss with enthusiasm.

"I'm just being honest," he insists, hands finding Quentin's face and holding it gently. He smiles. "It's because I care about you. That's the difference. I didn't care about any of those people."

He tugs him forward to kiss him again, slowly, tongue doing decidedly lewd things to Quentin's mouth. "Lay down," he says softly.

Beaming devilishly he closes frames Kyle's face in his hands, perhaps more intensely than tenderly, and kisses him again with a kind of ferocity that seems like it might be trying to outdo Kyle's own.

"You ARE," he accuses. "oh my Gooood there you go again!" between the groan in Quentin's voice and the delighted smile his antics try to hide, this criticism comes off more like he can't decide if it's the kind of saccharine that's worthy of mockery or if the way it makes his heart feel overstuffed that drives him nuts about it.

Whichever is more true, Kyle knows how to salve his uppityness. For once, he does as he's told. Melting back into their bed and trying to drag Kyle along with him.

Kyle goes easily, kissing Quentin the whole way down. He shifts, wriggling between Quentin's legs. His tongue plunders Quentin's mouth as his hands run up his sides until his thumbs can chafe over his nipples lightly. He shifts again, finding an angle where he can rut gently against Quentin's thigh.

"So pretty," he says between kisses. He drags a hand lower and takes hold of Quentin's cock, stroking firmly.

"Mmmmh," he goes down purring against Kyle's mouth. Their legs tangle clumsily as they settle against each other but eventually Quentin is wrapped around him, dragging his heel up the back of Kyle's leg and breaking out in goosebumps when Kyle thumbs his nipples.

A pained little mewl escapes him when that touch gets firmer. He gasps a shallow little breath against his boyfriend's lips and rocks into the Kyle's fist, shameless and greedy about it. He blushes deeply at those words that seem so mismatched to the way he feels— horny and eagerly fucking Kyle hand.

"Pretty what? Pretty pervy?" he smirks. The mischievousness of that smile loses it's edge when he's so red-faced and distracted. His fingers curl in Kyle's hair to hold him there where he can kiss him. "Careful. I've been thinking about this for weeks. Don't let me finish too fast."

"Pretty pretty," Kyle replies, smiling before he kisses Quentin's lips over and over. He pulls back to breathe, eyes bright.

"Have you? I'm flattered." He nibbles at Quentin's pulse. "I want you to be really turned on before I start, you know. I think it makes it easier. But you tell me what you like, okay?"

It's as impossible to believe as it warms him to hear and he draws Kyle's lower lip into mouth before he can get away.

"Of course I have," he sighs, smiling when he can feel Kyle's stiff cock press against his belly. "Uh huh..." he agrees more easily with that request than he ever agrees with anything, but rather than keep talking he draws Kyle in with another kiss and another until their foreheads rest together and room around the bed they share falls dark. The shuttering sound of an old timey projection occurs somewhere in the dark and where the head of their bed once was there's now a grainy screen playing back Quentin's dirtiest thoughts like some kind of grindhouse theatre.

On screen he wrestles Kyle to the bed only to be held down and kissed obscenely. In one moment he's wrapped snugly around the man nestled tightly between his thighs and in the next he's gasping into a pillow while Kyle's hips slap roughly against his ass. The scenes are brief but frequent and snap unexpectedly between point-of-view shots, wide angles and graphic close ups. Some of them plucked from memory. Some wholly imagined. No matter what position thought the feeling is the same— heady and humid and drunk and wanting.

Kyle hasn't just grown used to Quentin's casual use of his powers - he's come to depend on them to help them communicate when things are hard to say aloud.

And as is so often the case, the sight/feel of Quentin's erotic thoughts gets Kyle turned on like nothing else he's ever known.

"Fuck yes," he murmurs. "Oh, Q. Yes." He devours Quentin's mouth, then mauls his neck. "Get comfy."

He pulls away so that he can grab the lube from the nightstand and coat his fingers generously.

"You can put a pillow under you, if you like. Kinda angles you up, you know?" Kyle says.

Kyle's comfort with Quentin's idea of sharing only makes him more likely to opt for connecting them that way when he can. Not only is it easier than saying something embarrassing out loud, the ability to share a thought and a feeling along with an idea provides the much needed promise of being understood.

He dissolves into a fit of giggles when Kyle swears and chomps his neck. "No one calls me that," he snickers. "I love it when you call me that."

Even as Kyle speaks the words, they're reflected in the film that plays overhead. A shot of Kyle's hand on his hip. The stretch of his stomach as he arches up. The new angle he gets looking down his own belly at Kyle knelt between his legs. Like a live feed of Quentin's thoughts as he considers the benefits of this suggestion.

His cheeks burn and he smiles, planting his heels to lift himself as he stuffs a pillow under his ass without taking his hands off of Kyle.

Edited 2021-12-04 07:19 (UTC)

"What, Q? It's cute! Like you. Plus it's like James Bond-y. Or Star Trek-y." Is he babbling a little? Yes.

Kyle kisses Quentin again once he's got that pillow under him. He runs his slick fingers up the insides of Quentin's thighs, edging up high towards his ass before withdrawing to tease over his shaft.

Kyle sits back again to get more lube, then presses up close once again. This time a finger gently circles Quentin's hole.

"Good?"

Some half formed thought about Q being in the word cute blips into his mind but before he can shape it into something clever Kyle's kissing him and touching him and everything that isn't that melts out his ears with a shudder. "Nerd..." he murmurs warmly.

"V-very good," he stammers like he never does and stretches closer to Kyle. Desperate for the warmth and weight of him to return. In lieu of that he reaches out to touch him. Smoothing his hands first down then slope of his shoulders. Then then across his chest. And down his stomach until he's just out of reach and grazing him with his fingertips is all Quentin can manage.

That projection behind him tracks his fascination, first with Kyle face. His darkened eyes and the shine on his lips. Then the angle of his shoulders and soft texture of his smooth fair skin occasionally sprinkled with flecks of red like his hair.

"Hng... again. More. Please," he squirms.

Kyle would probably be embarrassed by Quentin's projection of him, but he's focused intently on the man himself. He wraps his other hand around Quentin's cock and strokes him as he gently fingers his ass. He keeps his eyes on Quentin's face as he presses a finger in, fascinated by every shift in his expression.

Quentin is beautiful in Kyle's eyes. In addition to being turned on, his heart is also so very full.

"Relax," he murmurs. "I'll take care of you."

He's not known for his patience. His ability to sit back and let someone else lead things is atrophied at best. But before he can complain Kyle's hands are on him and in him and Quentin's head falls back to his pillow.

"Ahh," he groans and hisses a breath through his teeth. Quentin's hips rock forward and back as he tries to decide which he wants more of.

Telling him is relax is usually a good way to further inspire his irritation, and maybe Kyle knows that, but the promise that follows does everything to temper him. He blinks through the bleariness that obscures his vision of Kyle and blushes violently. I'm relaxed. I just... need something to hold on to, he admits, reaching for any part of Kyle he can get his hands on.

Kyle immediately leans forward so that Quentin can at least grip his hair. "I'll move more in a second," he promises. "I just wanna..."

He twists his wrist a little as he strokes Quentin's cock. A the same time he moves his finger gently. Slowly he pulls back again, shifting to lean further forward and kiss Quentin's lips again.

"Just a second," he promises again. He grabs the lube again and dumps more on his hands. It might seem excessive, but he is unwilling to risk any preventable discomfort.

He settles back down again, hands taking up their work again, this time working a second finger inside his boyfriend.

"You're okay?

He can feel Kyle's warmth on his lips for that kiss when whatever he does with his hands steals the breath from Quentin's lungs. The noise he makes it's so undignified he let's his eyes close just to avoid seeing any smirk about it on Kyle's face.

He does grab Kyle's hair too. By the handful and drags him in for a kiss that's as messy as the rest of him feels when Kyle slathers him in lube again and opens him farther. "I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, but if you do that thing in me again I'm gonna cum so you better do it with your dick," he huffs urgently.

For someone normally so particular and fastidious, there's a hell of an appeal in messiness in these moments.

Kyle cackles briefly and pulls his hands away. "Okay," he says, smiling. "Okay." He shuffles between Quentin's legs, running his hands over his own cock to make sure he's as slick as can be.

He shuffles about again, using one hand to help line himself up. Slowly he presses forward, mouth slack, staring with fascination as he sinks into Quentin's flesh.

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

Re: cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw

cw: nsfw