Results.

He wanted results.

He wanted consistency, consistent results, he wanted--

Unprompted, his arm wraps around her. She is ultimately pulled closer to him though the proximity is not unwelcome.

Leaning forward, she closes the distance even further. By now, he is familiar, and so she has no difficulty laying claim. She kisses him roughly, letting the moment steep.

_xLOf|mu

heat points: 210

FERNANDO SILPH

MARINATE

A BOND KINDLED LEFT OUT TO COOK

A FLASH OF PANIC PINGS HIS MIND. Does he reveal the secret or embrace the circumstance of their encounter? Thankfully, she deprives him of that choice. Her kiss is muddled in a turmoil of quick thoughts as he embraces her.

His right arm is not his own. It thinks and acts on its own accord. It’s the same tool that encroached on their bath and lulled her into this faux perversion.

It is his left arm that remains his own. It has the agency to carry out his will, to follow through with what he wants. And right now, his choice is obvious. He wants nothing more than to hide his shame. To fool her. To keep his ailment to himself.

He wants to kiss her.

And so it curls around her as well. Embraces her. Accepts her advancement with the physiological need she thinks she has.

But he is not in control. An alien pulse surges from his arm an past his shoulders. He can feel it pulse, sudden, uncontrollable. His hand squeezes down and he can feel her rump fill it.

When he parts, he doesn’t realize what he’s done.

fernando can also expel a fog that causes affected targets to enter a BERSERK TRANCE. this can be used to tunnel their aggression onto a particular target. in roll-based events, characters who are in this fog roll with disadvantage (take the lower of two rolls). spread of the fog is determined by the moderator.

extensive use of the fog can be used to alter a victim's personality (with consent). this can skewer their mental state. repeated exposure to this fog will prove addictive.

MISTY TERRAIN flares from his nostrils. The gas is no longer under his control. It condenses regardless of his commands. No matter how much he wills it to dissipate it only grows stronger. He can see it in her eyes. In the way she stares back.

Fuck.

rb6yCoBG

TURN UP THE HEAT! activated!
HEAT POINTS: 151
Stormy Silph

She doesn't know. How could she? Shouldn't she? For how carefully she watches him, for how fond of him she has become, shouldn't she know that something troubles him, that there is another part of him that he is hiding?

She should, but she doesn't. She focuses instead on the embrace, on the passion behind the kiss, however staged. Both arms wrap around her, one hand squeezes. She isn't prepared, and that is why, when she inhales sharply to catch her breath, panic drags its cold fingers down her spine.

All of a sudden, her body isn't her own. Her mind is foggy, her temperature spikes. There is an uncomfortable lurch in her chest, something familiar, something terrifying. It comes in a wave, disorienting and dangerous. He pulls away from her and she can see reflected in his eyes the same panic she expresses.

"Fernando?"

Her voice shakes, but a feeling of rage soon begins to take over. The water boils, affected by her avatar-given powers. She is hot to the touch, dangerous, unpredictable. Her first instinct before it all takes over is to push off of him, to push him away.

"No, no, no!"

This was bad.

2rAkoeQN

heat points: 23

FERNANDO SILPH···

MARINATE

A BOND KINDLED LEFT OUT TO COOK

WHEN DISMISSING IT FAILS, he has to adapt. Move onto the alternative, to bend the gas in his favor no matter how miniscule it may be. A huff makes his chest rise as the temperature around them spikes into a cooking boil.

“You said you need this.”

Just being next to her burns. He can feel his skin clam up as her body looks to melt him into the already gurgling bubbles. But he holds on, resolute, torching his hands as he pulls her in again.

“Prove it.”

This time he kisses her with intent. His skin immediately blisters but he continues to lash out. To feel her and breath into her mouth. This time, the MISTY TERRAIN carries his will.

Him.

The BERSERKER RAGE will never turn her against him. It goes against the nature of his power. But to put her focus onto him will divide her focus away from the budding temper. Her obsession moves away from violence and into something else.

Not ideal but better than the alternative.

hT3ef_UL

HEAT POINTS: 132
Stormy Silph

It is worse only because Moltres is different. The rage, the BERSERK that Moltres is now capable of is far worse than that feeling of panic and rage from their training months ago.

This was different, even if it was far less the dose than she'd received then.

And even though she pulls away from him to protect him, he pulls her back in. She is trembling, melting down, giving into the berserk mode. She is wild-eyed and angry, but not at him. Never at him.

He is merely a victim because he is too close.

She did need this- she needed him. It wasn't him she was afraid of, it was herself. His influence could bring out the absolute darkest side of her, the most dangerous version of herself. She needed him to be there, to control it, to help her.

He crashes into her, and she burns him on contact. His skin blisters, the water boils. It's too hot, but he holds onto her anyway. He deepens their kiss anyway. He tempers that BERSERKER RAGE in her veins and she relaxes as a result of it. That rage soon turns into lust, a confusing and dangerous and dark amalgamation of passion and hunger and desire.

She feeds it, breathing onto the flames, pouring gasoline, whatever it takes.

"I need you."

EkEXN3KZ

heat points: -63

FERNANDO SILPH

MARINATE

A BOND KINDLED LEFT OUT TO COOK

ALL IT TAKES IS A SINGLE ACTION TO ESCALTE INTO THIS. Boiling water, frantic kisses, the singeing pain that diminishes but never fades; all because wt001 refuses to behave.

“Then take it.”

Fernando subjects himself to the pain unrelentingly. It’s mind numbing, excruciating to the point that there’s no appeal in their passion. He fulfills his role, responds even, but derives little pleasure as his nerves scream louder than his salacity.

But he pushes on. Becomes putty in her hands as he carries on an act he needs her to believe. Kisses are returned, flayed over painful skin, murmurs of sweet promises strewn from tense muscles. It requires his mental fortitude to comply, to withstand, but he succeeds.

He makes her believe it. Even believes it himself. Why?

He does so because he must.

Stormy Silph