PARTY PARTY PARTY

[allie]

CHAT DEMANDS IMPROMPTU IC PARTY FOR THE WIN AND THE LULZ

LET'S GO!  JOIN IN!


At the end of the day, your character is led back to their room in the usual manner.  The nurse's hand reaches for the doorknob and the door swings open, then--

Poof!

Your character appears in a large ballroom with an exquisitely tiled floor and a large stone fountain in the center.  The centerpiece of the fountain, shaped like a large fish, continually emits a spray of glitter from its open mouth.  Several tables covered with crisp white tablecloths are positioned near the walls, and a jar of sharpie brand glitter-paint markers serves as a colorful centerpiece for each.

Against the far wall is a long, rectangular table, with two bowls of red punch.  A sign written in fancy calligraphy rests against each: Yes, and No.  In addition to the punch, there are bottles of every liquor imaginable, as well as several fine wines and packs of cigarettes (though partygoers will have to fight for a single lighter).

The bathroom to one side bears a creepy resemblance to the bathroom in a normal house, complete with a medicine cabinet worthy of a lonely 50's housewife.

On the other side are a series of doors leading to rooms.

CURRENT SUB-ROOMS:

Bathroom
Office
Room of Mystical Legal Aging
Vegas Hotel
Broom Closet
Walk-in Freezer

If your character goes into a room, please put that room in the subject line.  Rooms are lockable.  If you want a room that isn't listed, tell me and I'll give it to you.  XD




Since this is not an actual damned event and is not srs bzns, feel free to join in with a character that from another rp if you're a potential player.  If this is the case, instead of entering through a door in the institute, your player would enter through a random door in the RP from whence they came.  XD  EDIT:  Party is now also for trying out potential characters.

The YES punch smells and tastes alcoholic, and has the same effect as a normal spiked drink.  The NO punch smells and tastes like normal non-alcoholic party punch.  IF YOUR CHARACTER DRINKS THE NO PUNCH, IM ME AT QUANTIFYTHIS AND I WILL TELL YOU ITS EFFECT.

THE FIRST RULE OF THE PARTY IS DON'T BE LAME.  THE SECOND RULE OF THE PARTY IS SRSLY, DON'T BE LAME.


FORMER MUSIC
FORMER MUSIC
CURRENT MUSIC
(music will be updated when Allie is not lazy and people give requests)

SMALL PRINT:  Powers and weapons are go as long as whoever you're using them on is cool with it.  Continuity from previous damned parties is intact if you want it to be, or not intact if you don't want it to be.  Clothing is whatever your character wore in canon, whatever they should have worn in canon, whatever they wore in their rp game, or whatever isn't in the dryer.  This impromptu chat party will last until everyone gets bored.

prose plz

Comments

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Somewhere in that demand was a request -- it was invisible and nearly inaudible, but it was as close as Phoenix was going to get. For now, he told himself, occupying himself with the curve where Miles' neck met his shoulder as he set to work unthreading his belt, then navigating the fly beneath it. He hoped that the slowness could be attributed to something intentional, just one more deliberately teasing gesture.

It was intentional, but only because the last thing he wanted to do was start fumbling with buttons and zippers and metal tongues like a teenager confronted with a bra clasp for the first time. It had been more than a little while since the last time he'd done this kind of thing, and his hands' memory seemed even worse than his brain's. Fingertips slid behind the fabric of trousers and for a terrible moment turned blindly against alien textures and forms -- smooth, curved, warm, filmy. Then something in his mind turned and clicked into place, and silk came into focus, followed shortly by firm along a glancing, elusive outline beneath.

He turned his hand toward the suggestion and let his fingers curl around the ready certainty of Miles' shaft, in the same motion stoking slowly over the smooth fabric. He tried not to let the way the pit of his stomach prickled and dropped show, but he heard more than felt as his next breath escaped halting and shuddering, only slowly sneaking past the thousand shivers gathering and sparking in him like lightning in the belly of a cloud.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

In that moment, the world seemed to come to a sudden stop and then start spinning even faster on its axis. Miles shuddered pleasure, unable to keep from arching his back and rocking his hips forward, murmuring "Oh, God, yes." That smirk was gone, replaced by a half-smile on his lips. His face was flushed, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust.

It took a long minute and more than a few ragged breaths for him to remember the fact he could be doing something with his hands other than weaving them tightly into Phoenix's hair. Once he remembered that, he didn't waste any time in extricating them.

Miles danced his fingers over the curve of Phoenix's jaw, then ran them slowly down his neck before moving down to his chest. Movements that were already slow became glacial as he ran his hands across his skin, mapping out the lines and dips of his muscles. He could feel Phoenix shiver, feel the sharp staccato rhythm of his heartbeat. He wanted to remember that, and more importantly, not miss any of those small details.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

In the space of that minute, Phoenix managed a few things. The first, and probably most significant, was getting over the heady, aroused disbelief that they were actually doing this in the first place. Not to disparage anything that had already occurred, but there was something about sticking your hand down someone's pants that really drove home the reality of a situation.

The second, close on the heels of the first, was getting a better idea of exactly what he was doing. This included, by necessity, a few moments of unsubtle groping that were probably only helped by the appreciative hum that accompanied them. That felt good, he acknowledged, too turned-on to think in more than vague generalities. Too good to keep letting clothing get in the way of, certainly. He thumbed down the waistband of his boxers, once he was sure that they'd cleared tugging the whole mass of clothing down and trusting the weight of the belt to drop it the rest of the way.

He leaned into Miles' touch with a low noise of encouragement, turning his head and kissing the inside of his arm. The motion was distracted, though, nearly instinctual, the greater part of his focus going to directing his own hands, thumb kneading and pulling at the thin skin still half-covering his head, other hand following the pebbly central seam curving up from his sac. There was no cautiousness in the exploration, though, no unaccustomed lightness or shrinking, only the deliberation of hands making sure not to miss a single inch.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Edgeworth moved his hands down to Phoenix's waist, then set about undoing his belt. There was no moment of teasing or hesitation about it, only a single-minded determination - while it was all well and good to be on the receiving end of things, it wasn't quite enough.

Besides, Phoenix was far too overdressed for this point in things. There was a moment of carefully navigating buckles, buttons and zippers, followed by hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs and starting to pull them down.

I should remember more of this.

The thought came out of nowhere and was almost sobering in its clarity. There was a certain part of that fuzziness to the memory that he knew he could blame on the heavy dose of sedatives he'd gotten the morning after they had first done this. The rest could be attributed to dim light and the strange way that time passed in the institute.

...what does the past matter? More importantly, why do I care about anything that isn't directly related to what we're doing right now?

That was enough to snap him out of his thoughts and back into reality. Miles pushed down the black boxer briefs Phoenix was wearing and let them fall, then wrapped his fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

There was a moment when Phoenix had to let go, if only to push himself up on his arms and wiggle out of the underwear that was being pulled off of him, perching back on the edge of the desk once that was done. There was something unexpectedly vulnerable and definitely improper about sitting bare-assed on a very nice desk. It was the sort of thing you pictured prostitutes doing, rather than successful criminal defense lawyers. And while he wasn't sure for a moment if he appreciated that, the perceived indecency lent a sharp thrill to the hand around him and the weight inclined close and a little over.

The breath that hissed in through his teeth escaped as a low, relieved groan, and it took him a few seconds to remember that he even had hands, let alone that they'd been in the middle of something just a few moments ago. But he began stroking Miles again after the first few bright, breathless seconds, firmer if no less slow.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles looked down at Phoenix, leaning in a little more; as he did, he stroked him a little faster and a little harder, rubbing his thumb over the head. After a moment, he pulled away, grinning again - it had been too soon for what he was planning to do just a few moments prior, but now? It was just about perfect.

He stepped out of the pile of clothing at his feet, kicking that and his shoes to one side. Normally, he would be a lot more meticulous about this, but this definitely wasn't normal. That thought sparked a little thrill.

"Wright, it's high time we escalated this a little more, don't you think?"

With that one question, he sat next to Phoenix, then wrapped one arm around him. Then Miles leaned back onto the desk, pulling him over him before reaching down to pick up where he'd left off.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Brows furrowed slightly in confusion, Phoenix looked up in response to the prompt, continuing to watch as Miles sat down, grabbed him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and-

He didn't even know what that motion was, other than something that it was very hard not to flail in response to. He would have said 'flip,' but flipping was usually something that moved people away from, rather than onto, one's person. But soon as he'd been pulled he felt the heels of his hands land solid on the wood of the desk, along with a knee that managed to pull up in time to keep him from unceremoniously flopping onto Miles. He looked down at the man beneath him -- disheveled and naked and perfectly self-satisfied -- with an expression that had moved from confusion into stunned disbelief, and heard himself very distinctly think, . . . did I just get judo-ed into a sexual position?

Then Miles was pulling and stroking at him and it didn't matter if he'd gotten him up there with telekinesis, as long as he wasn't going to stop what he was doing anytime soon. He rocked against him insistently, and before he knew what he was about had both hands tight in his hair, kissing him hard and possessively. He wanted to escalate? Fine.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles groaned and shivered into the kiss, pulling Phoenix down a little closer. While it wasn't the first time he had done this, and not even - technically, thanks to that time paradox - the first time he'd done it with the defense attorney, there was something different, heady, and utterly erotic about the way it was happening now, and he had no intention of stopping.

He changed the position of his hand just slightly, enough to get easier access in the way they were positioned, and then increased the pressure of his fingers a little more as he stroked Phoenix. He couldn't help rocking his hips up against him at the same time. Miles was tempted to grab one of Phoenix's hands and pull it down where he wanted, but that felt a little too forward.

Forward? When you just pulled him on top of you, onto a stranger's desk, after stripping him naked? What are you thinking?

The protests of his inner monologue didn't change anything. If it came to it, he'd do that, but for some reason Miles didn't think it would.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

There was an addictive quality to those noises. It didn't matter how many Miles made, Phoenix knew there would never be enough to silence the way his brain lit up and demanded another each time the latest fell silent.

The moan that met the warm, dry fingers only tightening further escaped half into the kiss and half around it, and he arched gratefully into the friction. He lifted his head, though not before catching a pinked lower lip between his teeth, leaning closer to Edgeworth's ear as he wormed a hand between them. He pumped at him a few firm, easy times, then slowed, heel of his hand rubbing in broad, careful circles over the slick head of his cock, fingertips pushing tight the loose skin beneath.

"I'm still waiting for that list, Miles." The whisper could not have been taken for anything less than demand, even without his hand sliding back down his shaft, squeezing in unmistakable punctuation.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

It was highly unusual for him to be the one getting demands in this situation instead of making them, but Miles thought he could get used to that coming from Phoenix. No, more than get used to it; he thought he could start wanting it, if he hadn't already.

That slow teasing was driving him to distraction, and it was a moment before he could suppress the moan in his throat enough to speak.
There had been a clear 'and don't stop what you're doing to me while you're giving me that list', and Miles obliged, moving his hand faster as he started to comply.

"I..." His mouth went dry, and he swallowed once before continuing. His voice was soft, husky with arousal and desire; it was more of a plea than a statement. "I want... everything. I want you to touch me, stroke me, suck me..." His face was flushed crimson, more due to arousal than embarrassment.

The last part was an almost inaudible whisper: "And I want you to fuck me senseless."

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix had leaned back to watch Miles as he spoke, compelled to make eye contact, to not just hear pleading but to see it and make known that it had been seen. And he did, though his eyes were lidded as he listened, body faintly rocking with deep, ceaseless breathing and the grip still stroking his almost painfully hard erection.

He wouldn't have predicted this, but he wasn't inclined to question it, either, not when Miles was spread out under him, mussed and begging and apparently loving this just as much as he was.

Grinning, Phoenix leaned down, kissing the curve of his jaw and giving a low, purring noise of quiet approval. "I suppose you want me to keep going through those," he murmured rhetorically. He shifted as he kicked loose his pants and shoes, uncurling a slightly-sticky hand from around Miles' member long enough to seat himself on the desk again and pivot around on his hip, unfolding his legs past Miles' head and off that edge of the desk.

Leaning down on his elbow, he grasped him again, stroking harder as he looked at him down the length of his body. He wanted to start sucking him now, to elicit another once of those delicious, toe-curling groans, and he somehow managed to funnel that desire into a level, pointed challenge instead, one that might have been more ambiguous in any other position. "I want to see how much you want it."

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

The shivers turned into writhing, and he made a noise that was as much of a whine as it was a moan. Miles couldn't stop himself from thrusting into Phoenix's hand, wanting the unspoken actions he was promising.

If he had been thinking straight, he might have taken advantage of the way Phoenix was positioned, close enough to run his tongue down the thin seam of his cock, swirl it around his head, to show him how much he wanted the same. The thought never came; he was too far gone with what he was feeling.

He hadn't been this submissive before with anyone. It was new and it was a little strange, but it felt too good to stop, or to try and change things to regain a little bit of control. It was thrilling being under someone else's command in a way he couldn't put his finger on but didn't want to stop.

"I...God, Phoenix, I want..." The words came out in sharp exhalations and gasps. He couldn't finish the thought, as much as he wanted to.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

That was all he needed. I want, and too much desperate, frustrated hunger to articulate anything else. Before Miles could make another attempt at finishing that thought, Phoenix dipped his head, running the flat of his tongue from root to tip, barely pausing before craning his head to the side and pressing closer, swallowing him as far down as he could.

He slowed at the half-familiar pressure against his soft palate, but didn’t pull back, wrapping an arm around a hip and grasping a trembling-tense thigh in an effort to hold himself still. After a few seconds, something at the back of his throat eased, and he did not even try to restrain the resultant shiver, letting his hand fall away to press still the ridge of a hipbone as he moved down that last inch. He would have moaned approval if he could -- it felt good, it felt right in way that was too simple to be so sublime, knowing that that Miles wanted, and that right now he was the only one who could do anything for that.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

If there hadn't been a room full of people just outside, Miles thought he would have cried out. As it was, he had to muffle the volume of the resultant noise by biting his lip, lest someone get curious. His breathing was in rough gasps, each one vocalized.

He looked down his body, and the sight - approval and pleasure in Phoenix's eyes - combined with the intense pleasure was almost too much. His eyes fell closed, and he arched his back, trying to express in motions and body language what he didn't have the words to say: you're amazing, this is amazing, and for the love of God, don't stop.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix drew that out as long as he could, unable to get enough of the ragged panting, the sight of his head pressed back against the desk, the way his spine arched and torqued in submission to mouth and hands. But gradually, he drew back, catching a quiet breath.

"God, you're wonderful," he murmured, barely finished speaking before he had his cock in his mouth again, tongue pressing into the valley between foreskin and head and circling. A low hum of pleasure resonated from back in his throat as he tasted him, all alkaline salt and warm-sweet skin.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles opened his mouth to reply, but the words didn't come out, instead replaced by a long, low groan. He placed his palms flat against the desk, turned his head to one side - and smirked. There was only one thing that could make this situation better, and the idea had just come to him.

He twisted carefully at the waist, not wanting to choke Phoenix. He pulled him closer with one arm, then slowly licked at the underside of his member, flickering his tongue up and down the seam at its base, then circling the head.