[if silverash had been just huffing, now he growls. only the tiger ancestors could roar like an aslan amongst the felines, but silverash is certainly trying to give a good showing for the snow leopards.
his anger is just piqued with the way gnosis just brushes off his concerns and needs to ask him more questions about the experiment. he bites down harder, until blood starts trickling into his mouth even more, the scent invading his nose, and he starts lapping it up with his rough tongue, pressing against the skin to urge the blood to flow even more. he feels something almost akin to hunger and thirst at the same time, which is impossible, he'd just had dinner before coming here.
when he's had enough, silverash pulls away from the wounds his fangs made and nips just underneath gnosis' ear, panting hotly against the skin.]
Don't change the subject. [as if he hadn't gotten distracted with the blood now in his mouth.] Who did you administer this to, and who took care of them?
[ a feline's tongue is rough in nature. the hooks of his tongue scrapes against the pale, long line of gnosis' throat, scraping blood in lapped mouthfuls in a way that's entirely foreign. gnosis struggles with the potential of a mess. a feline's tongue ought to be able to clean the most of it, but his skin feels sticky in its aftermath, warm in a way that suggests burn rather than mere fever. bloodloss is an issue, but that concern is faraway in the back of his mind, a mere alarm to be triggered if needed than something actively needed to be monitored. it is silverash; he would not harm him.
however - gnosis' eyes roll. ]
The blood has addled your head, Enciodes. I believe I was clear: I would not have allowed any of them touch me. To that end, I recused myself from the hands-on documentation of side-effects. I had them paired with appropriate operators that could satisfy their needs. [ but the way he runs his hand through enciodes' hair is fond nonetheless. ] Have you known me to make such a mistake? Really. I couldn't accept less than you.
[gnosis will have to forgive silverash's possessiveness, when that's always been his personality. snow leopards might not be the most territorial of felines, and had been known to yield space to others, but silverash refuses to follow in their footsteps because those are deadly mistakes.]
Really now. [silverash's tail thumps up and down on the bed again and again-- the sign of an agitated feline. and given the massive length and weight of his tail, the sound and impact are not insubstantial.]
Never choose another test subject then, aside from me. [then he presses his face right into the liberi's, until they're almost nose to nose. perhaps the scent of blood smeared around his mouth is a little off-putting.] Better yet, only have experiments with me.
[ it's not the first time silverash reeks of blood. it won't be the last time either. blood is a primordial element of the body. it's gnosis' blood that stains silverash's lips. his neck aches in a way that's entirely unfamiliar; it does not, in fact, feel terrible, but gnosis suspects that it's the influence of sarkaz cells. anti-coagulating substances, pleasure-inducing pheromones. silverash would've been deadly without either of those; with, he is devastating.
gnosis raises a brow. ]
No, Enciodes. [ he says, because he is fearless, and he has never feared silverash. there will never been a time wherein he will start. ] You are a poor subject for the majority of the experiments I choose. I would have you dissected on a table, and it still will not provide value. It seems that the serum corrodes self-control.
[ the half-moon of gnosis' eyes narrow into something like a smile. he kisses those bloody lips. ] How rare. You're never as vocal as this. This is an unexpected boon.
Gnosis... [if silverash were more in control of his faculties, he'd immediately understand that gnosis is just being gnosis. as it is... he considers every little comment that isn't effusive praise to be intentional provocation, and oh, does he allow himself to be provoked.
he growls under his breath, meeting gnosis' mouth and refusing to be parted from it for long. when the liberi breaks away from their first peck, silverash chases it relentlessly with forceful gestures, with an outstretched tongue, pushing at gnosis' chest and shoulders.
if he manages to get the man on his back? so much the better.]
[ leaving gnosis pinned, a warm mouth on his and hands clawing down his sides. he is patient; he allows it. his mouth parts for silverash to kiss, even as he methodically searches the line of silverash's shirt, fingers unbuttoning with clinical swiftness born from years of such practice.
silverash would be overheating; the pelt of a feline interacts poorly with the serum's heat-retaining capacity, or so he theorised. the sarkaz have no such need for insulation, and every such need to warm their blood. so he works to discard silverash layer by layer - vest, tie, shirt. ]
Mmm, [ he says, after a moment, and his mouth free to sigh. ] Are you still coherent enough to speak?
[silverash huffs and puffs at being handled like this-- moreso at the way gnosis is pulling away and pushing at the feline than the clothing leaving his body. his only contribution to that is a tug of his innermost shirt, a soft, comfortable button-up that he simply handles in a way that makes it so he won't be able to wear it ever again. just a tug and it rips at the seams to fall off of his frame.]
What more is there to say? What more do you have to ask me?
[he muscles his way between gnosis' legs. the liberi said that silverash would want blood and sex, and they're getting to the second part of his wants.]
[ what a waste, gnosis thinks. but silverash wouldn't think of it as such. for every shirt that gnosis has carefully preserved since his days in karlan co., are three shirts that silverash has ripped apart on a night's whim, only to be replaced by something victorian or sargonese. it's silverash's way, to make room for the new after the old ceases to serve its use. in this, gnosis is perhaps the sole exception. he is silverash's piece of kjerag cannot and will not be replaced.
their pants come next. it takes very little maneuvering in a song and dance they have done since teenagehood, when they were old enough and also intrepid enough to explore the boundaries of the differences in their bodies. gnosis is a pale, slim shape beneath the crowding of silverash's body. the short, dark feathers of his tail, typically tucked away, splays itself against the white of the bedsheets. gnosis' fingers are sure as he filches a small, capped bottle from his nightstand. he tosses it at silverash. ]
Ask of you? Prepare me. [ gnosis says, and the tilt of his head is imperious. ] Though I suppose you won't need your mouth for it.
[the juxtaposition of dark feathers on pale, pale skin has always fascinated silverash, but this time around, it's different. he can see the arteries and veins just underneath, hear the pulse in key areas. for a moment, he ignores gnosis' request and the bottle on the bed as he traces fingers over a vein at random, from the liberi's fingers, twisting around his chest, and spiraling until it reaches his heart. and then he traces back out again.
only after he's become satisfied with this does he acquiescence with what gnosis wants. he could snatch the bottle from the sheets, but gnosis seemed to challenge him to use his mouth, didn't he?
silverash will take it.]
Raise your hips, Liberi. [a slap to the inside of gnosis' thigh.] Go on, spread them too.
I am no beast. [ the words are delivered with kjerag cold. gnosis' eyes narrow; his feathers ruffle along the line of his neck, the red of which seems to glow in the faint lighting. silverash forgets himself. but he remembers the long line of silverash's fingers as he traces the pathway of his blood. he will ask of it, later. slowly, he leans back with a roll of his eyes, and allows his legs to part.
still: ] Years of Victorian education, and this is what you have become. You nearly disappoint me.
[what a blow to the ego that is. if silverash were in his right mind, he would have cared-- he would have cared quite a lot. then again, if he were in his right mind, nothing to make gnosis say such a thing would have happened.
as it is, he grips gnosis' thigh tightly, and lowers his mouth to bite it as well. he doesn't sink his fangs in and draw blood, thankfully for gnosis' ability to walk later, but it will surely bruise. silverash's typical handling of the liberi in bed is still present in some way.]
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no subject
his anger is just piqued with the way gnosis just brushes off his concerns and needs to ask him more questions about the experiment. he bites down harder, until blood starts trickling into his mouth even more, the scent invading his nose, and he starts lapping it up with his rough tongue, pressing against the skin to urge the blood to flow even more. he feels something almost akin to hunger and thirst at the same time, which is impossible, he'd just had dinner before coming here.
when he's had enough, silverash pulls away from the wounds his fangs made and nips just underneath gnosis' ear, panting hotly against the skin.]
Don't change the subject. [as if he hadn't gotten distracted with the blood now in his mouth.] Who did you administer this to, and who took care of them?
no subject
however - gnosis' eyes roll. ]
The blood has addled your head, Enciodes. I believe I was clear: I would not have allowed any of them touch me. To that end, I recused myself from the hands-on documentation of side-effects. I had them paired with appropriate operators that could satisfy their needs. [ but the way he runs his hand through enciodes' hair is fond nonetheless. ] Have you known me to make such a mistake? Really. I couldn't accept less than you.
no subject
Really now. [silverash's tail thumps up and down on the bed again and again-- the sign of an agitated feline. and given the massive length and weight of his tail, the sound and impact are not insubstantial.]
Never choose another test subject then, aside from me. [then he presses his face right into the liberi's, until they're almost nose to nose. perhaps the scent of blood smeared around his mouth is a little off-putting.] Better yet, only have experiments with me.
no subject
gnosis raises a brow. ]
No, Enciodes. [ he says, because he is fearless, and he has never feared silverash. there will never been a time wherein he will start. ] You are a poor subject for the majority of the experiments I choose. I would have you dissected on a table, and it still will not provide value. It seems that the serum corrodes self-control.
[ the half-moon of gnosis' eyes narrow into something like a smile. he kisses those bloody lips. ] How rare. You're never as vocal as this. This is an unexpected boon.
no subject
he growls under his breath, meeting gnosis' mouth and refusing to be parted from it for long. when the liberi breaks away from their first peck, silverash chases it relentlessly with forceful gestures, with an outstretched tongue, pushing at gnosis' chest and shoulders.
if he manages to get the man on his back? so much the better.]
no subject
silverash would be overheating; the pelt of a feline interacts poorly with the serum's heat-retaining capacity, or so he theorised. the sarkaz have no such need for insulation, and every such need to warm their blood. so he works to discard silverash layer by layer - vest, tie, shirt. ]
Mmm, [ he says, after a moment, and his mouth free to sigh. ] Are you still coherent enough to speak?
no subject
What more is there to say? What more do you have to ask me?
[he muscles his way between gnosis' legs. the liberi said that silverash would want blood and sex, and they're getting to the second part of his wants.]
no subject
their pants come next. it takes very little maneuvering in a song and dance they have done since teenagehood, when they were old enough and also intrepid enough to explore the boundaries of the differences in their bodies. gnosis is a pale, slim shape beneath the crowding of silverash's body. the short, dark feathers of his tail, typically tucked away, splays itself against the white of the bedsheets. gnosis' fingers are sure as he filches a small, capped bottle from his nightstand. he tosses it at silverash. ]
Ask of you? Prepare me. [ gnosis says, and the tilt of his head is imperious. ] Though I suppose you won't need your mouth for it.
no subject
only after he's become satisfied with this does he acquiescence with what gnosis wants. he could snatch the bottle from the sheets, but gnosis seemed to challenge him to use his mouth, didn't he?
silverash will take it.]
Raise your hips, Liberi. [a slap to the inside of gnosis' thigh.] Go on, spread them too.
no subject
I am no beast. [ the words are delivered with kjerag cold. gnosis' eyes narrow; his feathers ruffle along the line of his neck, the red of which seems to glow in the faint lighting. silverash forgets himself. but he remembers the long line of silverash's fingers as he traces the pathway of his blood. he will ask of it, later. slowly, he leans back with a roll of his eyes, and allows his legs to part.
still: ] Years of Victorian education, and this is what you have become. You nearly disappoint me.
no subject
as it is, he grips gnosis' thigh tightly, and lowers his mouth to bite it as well. he doesn't sink his fangs in and draw blood, thankfully for gnosis' ability to walk later, but it will surely bruise. silverash's typical handling of the liberi in bed is still present in some way.]