polylogs | Supergreen.

Entry tags:

Supergreen.

✖ EVENT HORIZON

Ⅰ. PARADISE
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
The heart of the station is beating.

MUTHER is online, and she has filled the station with the sound of music. Over that she occasionally warns in an emotionless voice, “Liberate tutemet ex inferis.”

Thick concentric thick metal rings rotate in different directions around a sphere in a steady, pulsing rhythm before they all line up. The dimensional gate opens.

The entire space station is momentarily subsumed in bright white light. You will be blinded for a second, and taken over briefly by a sense of joy so profound that it aches. The more emotionally or psychically sensitive Travelers may find it difficult to regain their equilibrium for a while and may be prone to laughing or crying fits.

After the dimensional shift, things are different. The most noticeable of which is that the space station is no longer abandoned. Crew members move about, but they aren't the only ones; the station is alive with what are pretty clearly tourists. Some are humanoid, some are not - maybe you even recognise some of the species. None of them are chasing you down and trying to eat your face, though - the most aggressive they get is ‘crabby from waiting in line at Disney World’ levels.

Doors that were once locked are now open. There are restaurants, spas, night clubs, swimming pools… anything and everything you could possibly want in a vacation destination. The sleeping pods are still accessible, but you’ll probably prefer one of the many fine hotel rooms now available to you.

Yes, the mystery space station is in fact an intergalactic resort. Who knew?

Where the dimensional gate once was, now is instead the High Temple. Travelers can access anything they have stored there, as well as have access to food that isn’t in paste form.

Notes:
1. The High Temple is available to everyone this month.

2. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.

3. MUTHER will no longer communicate with any travelers.

4. Have fun!

Ⅱ. INFLUENCER
Now that the station is bustling with people, you’ll be quick to notice that some of them receive more attention than others. Crowds surround certain individuals who just exude an aura of ‘I am better than everyone else here.’ The staff bend over backwards to fulfill their every whim, and they are definitely getting the best of the best when it comes to food and drink and accommodations.

Yeah. They’re celebrities.

You’ll probably do your best to avoid the throngs of adoring fans, unless you happen to spot some intergalactic superstar you actually recognise. Why get caught up in all that nonsense, right? You can just avoid it.

At least, you can until a skinny, fabulously dressed person with the most fantastic hair you’ve ever seen slides out of nowhere right in front of you. They have a headset on, and hold a staff that doubles as a microphone. Around them float half a dozen spherical drones that can only be cameras. You don’t recognise them, but they seem to recognise YOU, considering that they all but shriek your name.

“And here we have the most beloved person currently living and breathing the air of this fiiiiiiiiiiiine establishment! After yours truly, of course! That’s right, loyal viewers, this is Vanity Apollonia streaming LIVE from seven to nine with all the deets you could POSS-ib-ly desire about the multiverse’s darling of the moment! Their dreams, their desires, their most INtimate of intimates! Right on! Say something to those fifty billion pairs of ears out there!”

They shove the microphone in your face, giving you an expectant look. You should probably say something.

Vanity reacts as if you’ve just given the world’s most brilliant and inspiring speech no matter what you say, following it up with, “More of that to come! Now a quick word from today’s sponsor, NordMan! The only intergalactic security I personally trust!”

The cameras suddenly close up, and Vanity sighs and adjusts their hair.

“Look, you wanna keep that follower count up, babe? You gotta play to the viewers a little more! Give them what they want. A little cleverness, a little vulnerability. Do it and I promise you’ll get the V.I.P. treatment! Don’t, and you’ll just go back to being a regular guest. It’s all the same to me, sweetheart.”

Looks like you have a choice to make.

Notes:
1. To achieve celebrity status, you must spend two hours a day live streaming with Vanity Apollonia.

2. Whoever happens to be with you is considered your entourage, unless you decide to pull some stunt to make them as (in)famous as you.

3. Your follower count will go up if you appear ‘real’ to your audience. For some this means actually being genuine. For others this means faking it so well nobody can tell.

Ⅲ. HOLODECK
CW: potential violence, sexual situations.
Depending on what world you're from, virtual reality may be fairly commonplace, or it may be so far out of the realm of possibility that the idea seems magical. Here it’s the former, with entire rooms devoted to a VR experience that is completely immersive.

Step inside the holodeck and pick from any of the preset scenarios the computer has to offer! Would you like to swash a buckle on a pirate ship? Lead an Elven army? Have relations with a bunch of anthropomorphic animal people? Hey, we’re not judging, just warn for that shit. The computer is also happy to tailor an experience just for you if you tell it what you want! And it’s probably more fun with a friend so grab someone and have a great time!

No matter what scenario you choose, after some time you’ll notice that certain elements from your actual life are sneaking in. Even if you’re in the middle of fighting Godzilla, you’ll find that an important moment from your past has inserted itself into the narrative.

For once you don’t seem to have to do anything about it, but it sure can be embarrassing depending on what memory has decided to shoehorn its way into your leisure time. How you react to it may reveal a lot about your character.

Notes:
1. The memory can be good or bad and it is entirely up to the player’s discretion as to how it interrupts the VR experience. Maybe Godzilla suddenly becomes your mother.

Ⅳ.PARENTHOOD
CW: disturbing image in link, forcible togetherness.

Even in a nonstop party space station there are moments of quiet. You and someone else are walking down a hallway, maybe, or having a relatively quiet time poolside, or star-gazing at one of the viewing decks. Wherever you are, you come to realise that you are being watched.

A quick look around will reveal that a hideous child-sized humanoid is half hiding nearby, watching you with huge blue eyes. It looks very young and very frightened, and it seems to be drawn to you.

Maybe you try to speak to it. It doesn’t talk back, but it will approach you shyly.

Maybe you ignore it because it’s ugly. It doesn’t seem to care, and will approach you shyly anyway.

The little alien takes one of your hands, and one of your companion’s hands. It still doesn’t speak, but it radiates a mental image of loving parents surrounded by rainbows and hearts.

Congratulations! You’ve just adopted a MAC!

The MAC wants only to eat candy and have fun, which doesn’t sound that bad in theory. In practice the MAC is the most accident prone dumbass you have ever seen in your life. Lucky for it, it seems completely invulnerable to any sort of injury. That luck does not, however, extend to you, so when the MAC accidentally sets a fire or breaks a toilet or blows up a fuse box you could very well be the one taking damage.

The MAC refuses to leave you and your companion alone. It fully expects you to all stay together as a happy family unit. The little guy is freakishly strong, and may physically hold on to the two of you in order to keep you around. He sure loves to hold hands. It must bring him comfort. Or maybe he’s just exchanging long strings of complex proteins for sustenance with you. Either or.

The only way to get rid of the MAC is to find its real parents.

Notes:
1. Maybe you find the parents right away. Maybe it takes days. Weeks. The whole month. You poor bastard.

2. How you treat the MAC will affect the colour of your ScryWatch. So, yes, if you punt it into the sun you probably won’t be rewarded.

Houston, we have a banging playlist!

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I've said some shit. I'll keep saying some shit. I'm the king of saying shit."

There's a look that flickers across his face in the fleeting moment when he realizes he let that laugh out on a livestream. He's a far cry from mortified but it's certainly something he does his best to keep a lid on and for now he's just thankful no one in the chat cared enough to notice.

"Tall dudes get all the credit..." he mutters. Kyle's cock jabbing him in the butt and the bare chest under his hands is enough to distract him from being more chronically offended about the audience's opinion. He plucks tentatively at the strings around the waist of Kyle's lounge pants.

"Mmmm, well. You think about it for next time. Because I'm not walking all the way to holodeck with a hardon today. Luckily, one of you is enough to wreck me right here anyway."

"I can't argue that."

Kyle is no telepath, but by this point he's attuned to Quentin's microexpressions, to the tells that give away his emotions. He smooths his hair back again, radiating love and safety.

"It's silly. But let them miss out on the short kings - means I get to have you all to myself as my very favourite top."

Kyle nods, mouth latching onto Quentin's neck again. "Good. I don't wanna get out of bed." He kisses his way up to Quentin's mouth, tongue lewdly demanding entry. His hands slip around and lower to cup the top of Quentin's asscheeks.

"You should turn on that pay-per-view option or whatever," he murmurs. "I'm done answering questions."

Quentin worries his lip between his teeth because he keeps his stupid grin to a minimum but by the time Kyle's branding him his favourite top he's cringing with the kind of discomfort that he loves and hates in equal amounts. "Oh my Gooood, you're so fucking wholesome it tortures me in the best way."

He beckons his phone to his hand a moment and looks into the camera as he messes with his settings.

"You heard the man. Pay up or peace out," he smirks and for all those who haven't subscribed for this, the feed blurs out even before he sets that phone back in its cradle.

"It's been a minute since we've done this without a lot of telepathy," he smiles draping his arms around Kyle's neck again to hold him right where he is when he's kissing his neck. "You want tops or tails today?"

"Yeah, super wholesome with a raging hardon," Kyle mutters, nuzzling Quentin's shoulder.

He experiences a moment of panic when he realises he's basically just agreed to livestream porn. Not even agreed - suggested. But then he remembers what he said earlier about them streaming to a bunch of aliens they'll never see in person. What are the odds one of their friends is tuning in? Microscopic. And it is sort of thrilling to know somebody is watching and enjoying it.

He'll probably have to unpack that later.

"Let the people decide," he murmurs, fingers trailing up over the bumps of Quentin's ribs before running gently over his chest so he can thumb his nipples.

"Unironically sexy," he snickers against Kyle's ear as he kisses him anywhere he can reach.

The momentary change in the pace and intensity of Kyle's thoughts isn't missed by Quentin, but something like fear quickly finds its footing as adrenaline instead and he runs his hands adoringly over Kyle's back. Leaning into the reassurances he can hear amongst Kyle's own thoughts and speaking without words just to promise that there's still some place of privacy to retreat to if he wants it. Just show them what you do to me. No one we'll ever know.

He stifles a laugh poorly when Kyle tickles his ribs. "Oh you're a pro now huh?" he smarts off. At least until Kyle's touches put a crack in a voice. "Ok, ok, choose your own fuck-venture, you pervs," he purrs as he paws softly at Kyle through his lounge pants.

"I feel like they're gonna—" before he can finish that sentiment the results come pouring in with such definitive speed that chat pings distinctly. Q bottom K top - 92% K bottom Q top - 8% "And there it is. Wow. Ok. You know what? I'm not even surprised."

Kyle nods almost imperceptibly, feeling the warmth of Quentin's psychic assurances. His hips lift when Quentin touches him. He mouths at Quentin's neck again, stopping only when he hears all the pinging.

He looks at the results, then at Quentin's expression, and cackles. "Wow, your audience really wants to see you get plowed," he says. He runs his hands down over Quentin's back, smiling through the kisses he rains over his cheeks.

"It's totally because I'm taller," he teases. He slips a hand around Quentin's waist to run his fingers lightly up the outline of his dick, over and over. "You okay with that? I promise we can go in any position you like."

Glowing under Kyle's attention he shrugs off that silk dressing robe he wears to relish Kyle's hands all over his back instead.

"I think they're telling me to get fucked," he snorts. His smile is almost triumphant really. Like he's proud to elicit such a response in people.

It's a look that dissolves easily when Kyle touches him through his shorts. "Uh huh," he huffs softly as he recollects himself from such an incredible distraction. "I'm great with that," he promises, leaning into Kyle's hand and letting his kisses get lazier every time he goes back for another. "Mess me up, you gorgeous ginger jock."

"Yeah, yeah I think you're right," Kyle says, chuckling. His hand shifts, fingers closing around the shape of Quentin's cock as he feels him up more firmly through his shorts. He kisses him back, one arm looped around his waist to keep him close.

He's aware that the chat is pinging but he doesn't care anymore. He only cares about the feel of Quentin's tongue in his mouth, the hard heat of him in his hand. Kyle rocks up as best he can, seeking friction. It's very quickly not enough, and he takes his hand away from Quentin before he leans forward, encouraging Quentin to get off of his lap and fall back.

"Get undressed for me." He glances at the feed. "...and I guess them."

His fingers curl against Kyle's shoulders but the stream itself and all those people watching quickly become secondary for Quentin as well. The idea of being watched like that is a thrill— but not one he's willing to take his attention off of Kyle to entertain.

He harumphs a little when the touching stops, but drops back just as he's invited to. "For you," he agrees, lifting his hips and shimmying out of his silky shorts and reaching for Kyle again immediately. "They're just along for the ride."

Sitting there, looking down at his naked and grasping boyfriend, Kyle smiles brilliantly. It doesn't last long - his expression quickly turns to one of studious horniness - but it's undeniable in that that moment that Quentin holds his heart completely.

He sits back to pull his lounge pants off, folding them hurriedly and setting them aside. Kyle's cheeks burn as he moves to press himself against Quentin, aware of the pings in the chat that no doubt signify strangers judging his naked body. He doesn't look at what is being said, focusing instead on Quentin's skin and scent and taste. Kyle kisses him deeply, hands gripping his shoulders. He breaks the kiss only to start mouthing his way lower.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs softly. "Just relax, okay?" He trails kisses over Quentin's belly, biting lightly at one hip as he takes Quentin's cock in one hand and strokes a few times before moving to take it in his mouth.

The blush on Quentin's face is the direct result of peeking into Kyle's head to hear the thoughts behind that goofy grin on his face. It's a different kind of voyeurism entirely to see himself through Kyle's eyes a moment but when he does he's always as touched as he is embarrassed to see himself in such a flattering light.

He wraps himself around Kyle shamelessly. Burying his fingers in his bright red hair to devour as much of that kiss as he possibly can.

"No, you are," he smirks obnoxiously. His fingers don't leave his boyfriend's hair no matter how low Kyle goes. He pushes himself up on his boney elbows to watch every nip and kiss. Each one putting another little pained or pleasured expression on Quentin's face.

"Ahh," he gasps and tries not to press his hips up too urgently. "Ok, ok, but like... be careful. I mean. Not careful. Just. You're really good at blow jobs so like, try not to end me instantly huh?"

As usual, the feeling of Quentin's fingers in his curls drives Kyle completely mad with desire.

"No, you," Kyle snaps back, trying not to grin and failing.

He pulls his mouth off of Quentin to listen to him with wide eyes. He nods, then slowly licks Quentin's cock from base to tip while maintaining eye contact. Then he ruins it by giggling.

"You wanted me to wreck you," he reminds him. "TK me over some lube, genius." When he dies so, Kyle shifts so he can get the little bottle open, spreading lubricant generously over his fingers. One hand he uses to resume stroking the shaft of Quentin's cock while he takes the head back in his mouth, tonguing it. He presses his other fingers gently behind his balls, moving further back to push gently inside of him.

"No— ahh," his useless bickering is interrupted by the slow, salacious swipe of Kyle's tongue. It knocks him off his elbows despite wanting to keep his head up to watch. Draped back across the bed again, Kyle's laugh puts a dopey grin on his face.

"I DO want you to wreck me! Just not in the first 30 seconds!" he whines and stuffs a pillow under his neck to go on watching without putting in any effort.

"Let me just enjoy how good you are to me for a minute," he says, carding his fingers through Kyle's hair again. He fascinates over the way those curls wrap around his fingers.

The cool touch of the lube sends a little shock of goosebumps across Quentin's skin and leaves him mewling when Kyle works him open around his fingers. He lifts his hips a touch and looks a little slack-jawed where he lays. Unconsciously mirroring the movements he watches on Kyle's mouth around his cock. "Oh my God, you look so crazy good, Kyle. So filthy. You're so good at that."

He gives a good suck before popping off of Quentin's cock. Both of his hands keep working, slow and deliberate.

"Thank you," he says in that prim little tone that he seems to reserve solely for moments like this. He lets go of Quentin's dick, gesturing at the pillows.

"Pass me one so I can put it under you," he says, smiling. "Unless you want me to flip you over."

The chat explodes again, but Kyle resolutely ignores it. The pinging noises are a rush, though.

He breathes through his teeth when Kyle draws on him so firmly that the drop at the end is full of both relief and yearning for more. He wets his lips gone dry from his mouth-breathing and rubs himself lazily just to assuage the momentary loneliness of his stiff dick.

Cheeks deeply flushed he pushes himself up right and grins at the offer, catching his bottom lip under his teeth. "Do it," he smiles a guilty smile and positively titters a little. "Fuck me like the big, tall top everyone takes you for."

Kyle blinks, then smiles. He withdraws his fingers and crawls up Quentin's body to kiss him hard. He bites gently at Quentin's lower lip before letting him go.

"If that's what you want, that's what you get," Kyle murmurs against Quentin's neck. "I love you, Q. So fucking much."

He moves again, flipping his boyfriend with the ease of someone used to roughhousing. He laugh as he runs his hands down Quentin's back, grabbing handfuls of his ass and squeezing.

"Okay, up on your knees."

Involuntarily he makes a soft little noise when Kyle pulls out of him, but any absence is immediately made tolerable by the warmth and weight of Kyle above, and kissing him and cursing I-love-you's at him.

"I love you too," he whispers against Kyle's ear, likely too low to be heard through the stream. "I'm gonna watch this feed back and send you dirty screengrabs forever."

The little yelp he lets slip out when Kyle turns him and another when he's grabbed, but both dissolve quickly into a laugh that sounds delighted by their own mischief. Red faced and grinning through his own mild embarrassment he hides his expression against the pillows as he shuffles his knees beneath him to lift up his ass.

"Oh my god that goes right to my dick..." but moaned into the bed it sounds far less intelligible.

"I could do the same to you," Kyle murmurs back. Although they both know he might be far, far too mortified to watch the recording.

Quentin's laughter fuels his own, and Kyle is delighted to realise that they don't feel compelled to be cool or sexy for the camera. He doesn't think he could handle that sort of peer pressure.

"Yeah, I know," Kyle says. His hands run over Quentin's back and ass again, rubbing and kneading flesh. He smacks Quentin's ass softly, low down by where the muscle joins the thigh. He has to let go in order to lube himself up, but the second he can stroke himself one handed he does so, resting the other on the small of Quentin's back.

"Okay," he mutters. "Okay."

He shuffles himself closer and between Quentin's thighs, lining himself up before he pushes forward slowly. His mouth hangs open slightly as he watches himself sink in.

"Okay. Yeah."

"Pftff, yes!" he laughs and reaches lazily behind him to touch any part of Kyle he can reach. "Please! I wasn't threatening you, jerk! I was flirting!" Of course, for them those things walk such a fine line it only makes him giggle to realize his remarks might have been indistinguishable.

Quentin has cultivated the coolest personality he can think of, but part of what so excites him about the idea of being watched, with Kyle, like this, is in many ways the threat of being seen just as he is. For what he loves, and who he becomes when his boyfriend drives him to a place of such want he forgets how to be anything but Kyle's.

His cheek smushes up against the pillow when he turns his head, eager to look behind him for a glimpse at Kyle until he realizes he can see him there in the stream reflected back at him behind the running text of the chat. The concentration on Kyle's face is unforgettable.

He purrs when Kyle strokes his back and his thighs. Rolling his hips when the temptation to rub himself against the bed is too much to stave off. It doesn't last though. His rhythm easily interrupted by weight of Kyle bearing down on him and his ass giving way more willingly for him every time. "Fffffff—" he hisses and presses himself backward until his butt finds the bend of Kyle's hips. "Ohhh fuck that's good..."

"There's a difference now?" Kyle fires back, smiling.

The camera is forgotten, eclipsed by how hot and tight Quentin is. Kyle makes an abbreviated whimpering sound when Quentin pushes himself all the way back.

"Fuck," he murmurs, mouth dry. He takes a deep breath and releases it before he lets his hips move, rocking slowly back and forth until he finds a natural rhythm. Kyle leans over when he thrust forward just to kiss Quentin's shoulder blades.

"Say you're mine."

"Sometimes!" he squeaks, his voice cracking when his petulance collides with his pleasure.

The words on that little screen don't even register with him when he looks past it all to see Kyle's face instead. The pained expressions that come with those noises make him happier than words can say.

He gives Kyle a moment to find that rhythm and relishes the weight of him against his back before he churns his hips lightly beneath him.

His face glows with the warmth and arousal of feeling and looking so prone before his partner, but still he finds a way to be his contrary self. "You're mine," he grins innocently as he arches his back, determined to take Kyle deeper.

"You little brat," Kyle groans, hands gripping Quentin's hips tightly. He still sounds happier than he does truly annoyed, though.

He rolls his hips, deep but slow. "You wanna play that game? Okay. Okay, yeah, we can do that."

His forehead creases lightly in concentration as he aims to find just the right strength at which to thrust, knowing by now what Quentin tends to enjoy.

"You look good," he says, voice low. He leans into him so he can reach around to stroke Quentin's cock. "So slutty."

Listening to Kyle's words ground out along with a moan strikes him with a heady sense of victory that isn't in the least bit cut short when his partner "retaliates," but only made all the more sweet for it.

His distracted little laughs turn into breathless keening as Kyle's fingers dig into his hips and haul him back with a touch more force. The soft slap of his backside against Kyle's thighs in time with the deep, warm thrust of Kyle inside him leaves Quentin slack jawed even before Kyle's hand feels its way blindly across his stomach to offer some pressure around his cock.

"Ah! Fuck! Kyyyle. GoddamnityouknowIlikethat," he babbles.

"Yeah, I know," Kyle replies. He's doing his best not to sound too breathless.

He twists his wrist a little on the upstrokes. His hips font falter, but their rhythm is a bit haphazard as Kyle divides his attention.

"Nobody knows you like I do. I treat you good, right? Say, 'yes, Kyle.'"

Quentin absolutely does falter. Torn between Kyle's hips and his hands there's a staggered moment in his movement that can't decide which direction to push his hips at all and results in a desperate churning motion that tries to have the best of it all.

"Yes. Yes, Kyle," he huffs. "Nobody does this to me. Nobody but you." He reaches back to find Kyle's thigh. Just to touch some part of him. When that's not enough, Quentin rises on his knees, leaning back until he can feel all of Kyle against his back. Twisting himself to stretch an arm around Kyle it pays to be just shy of his boyfriend's height as he cranes himself backward to kiss him. "I'm such a total slut for you," he sighs, grinding down on Kyle's cock while he looks down his stomach to watch himself in Kyle's hand.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject