WHO: Berkshire and Sato
WHEN: 31 JAN 1943
WHERE: Seiiki District's onsen
NSFW warning
[10:06] Lewis Berkshire: Mr. Berkshire stood in a moment of rare introspection. His schemes were slowly stitching together, all to clear the way for *her* arrival. He leaned on his elegant cane deep in thought, pale cherry blossoms drifting in languid downward spirals around him. None of the fragile petals seemed to alight upon him, dappled shadows shifting in the breeze over his perfect coiffed silver hair and staid grey tweed suit while he contemplated his favorite part of town. The older gent's severe features held a brooding impression, far away in his thoughts, though his stance never suggested he was unaware of his surroundings. His eyes were hidden behind his usual lenses, gathering the glint of the sunlight to obscure the intensity that abided there.
His free hand lifted, reaching long fingers upward to lazily stroke his goatee with thumb and forefinger, a touch strangely sensual even on himself, for anyone who might notice. One corner of his mouth crept up, a remembrance perhaps of something he had enjoyed, something *sinful*. But one would have to be keenly observant to catch any of the elusive emotions that flitted over this silver fox's visage. Lines of age and natural caution alike conspired to hide his true feelings behind a slightly permanent scowl of resting bastard face.
Lewis was already turning his head towards Sato when the other man came into visual range. Pulled from his contemplations, he would recognize that scent anywhere now. His spectacles captured the sunbeams sifting down through the scented foliage above, his eyes hidden though his gaze felt perhaps. His smile was a dark one as he watched the other's approach, keeping his own counsel until the smaller man spoke.
[10:09] Naoki Sato had left a spare set of clothing in one of the teahouse rental rooms, as he often did when he wanted to go snooping around the asylum unglamoured. He knew that shifting to his true self often left things... far too bloody to salvage. When he returned to the streets it was moderately dressed - an open haori and loose hakama, a set of sandals. Much changed from when Berkshire last saw him in the Academy's gold and black, formal suit and tie.
He descended the stairs of the tea house and stopped on the cobblestone when he saw the man, a little wince on his features as the arousal caused some flutter of pain to ebb from down below. Sato looked around them at the street before advancing to close the distance between himself and the silver Sidhe, his own pulse rising visibly in those prominent veins. He'd had a run-in with something, it seemed... from all the scratches and healing carvings of words on his skin.
"The Professor is open to meeting about your request," he began before adding with a tightening of his lips and a sigh, as if the pleasantry was not something he liked to have to do, "...good morning."
[10:31] Lewis Berkshire: Berkshire studied Sato's casual Asian fashion choice with sharpening interest, the loose flowing fabric style complimenting the man's lithe frame, the open haori's lapels of red framing his pale chest with corresponding angry red of fresh marks, an eye catching pattern over his preferred canvas. He lifted his scrutiny to meet the Yokai's with one arched brow of silver and one corner of his smile curling higher, not hiding his amused enjoyment seeing this particular man, especially already so eye-catchingly marred. But he'd rather it was his handiwork.
The man's nostrils actually flared, his head tilting towards Sato as he turned on his bootheel to face the other fully. Oh, Lewis could sense that spike of pain, that spurt of arousal, the rabbiting of his pulse, and it made the silver fox smile all the darker, showing a flash of teeth.
"Well, it is now perhaps..." Berkshire replied, his words and tone both darker, lower, than a gentleman ought greet someone in public, a promise or a threat lurking under his implications. He took a long stride towards the other man, an economy of grace startling for a man his age and leaned down from his greater height to smile in the half demon's face. A challenge in the flash of his teeth. "Excellent. Shall we discuss the matter over a...drink or two, *Sato*?"
The name rolling from his taunting lips might feel like something almost electric to lick upon his target as pale petals danced around the two upon the wind. A name was a dangerous thing on this gent's tongue. His invitation far more so. As Sato might well know quite intimately...
[10:38] Naoki Sato stood stiff and upright under the Sidhe's scrutinizing stare. He recognized the way the man was looking at him - predatory, hungry, reminiscent of the altogether lurid things they'd indulged in last time they met. He spotted the amusement at the various scratches and his own lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. "Ravenous spirits wander this place, Mr. Berkshire," he explained with less direct language than he ever used. Sato was typically not the type to tip-toe or imply - but there he was. "Best to talk in private."
His eyes took a languid trail up the Sidhe's much more formally-clothed form, roaming the creases and pressed edges of his suit and vest before moving past him to the onsen's little pavilion. Sato nodded to it. "The teahouse staff will send someone to attend to us there," he stated, not shrinking back from the lean or the infringement of his personal space. Instead he licked his lips as he heard the man speak his name.
"Unless you have other business in the area to conduct first? We may be distracted... or become significantly occupied."
[11:01] Lewis Berkshire: "Of course. I insist." Berkshire replied on privacy, flicking his attention to the place indicated to assess its potential. Such simple words, a world of dark intention beneath flawless manners. Lewis noted Sato's perusal, the dart of his tongue across his smiling lip, the man's uncomfortable dancing around the topic. He already could tell this one preferred to be direct. Much like himself in every way that mattered. But there were situations where being discreet was prudent.
Lewis' scent seemed stronger today or perhaps it was just the push of the air bringing his heather and whiskey scent out as he loomed over Sato. But then he straightened and gestured for the smaller man to proceed to the onsen in question, again taking up the rear position if the man complies. A personal amusement of his to stalk in this way apparently.
"I am aware of the dangers that roam these streets." He grinned briefly, another flash of pearly teeth, clearly one of them. "But your concern is noted. I do hope you are well disposed to speak to me today." There was an inquiry there, a suggestion the Yokai had best retreat now if he hadn't the energy to deal with this particularly ravenous Sidhe cloaked in a gentleman's respectability. A silver wolf in impeccably dressed sheep's clothing indeed.
A stray blossom finally managed to fall on the man's pale hair, catching in the few loose strands at his hairline. He laughed, a sound that might feel too real, too velvet to hear unmoved, "I believe we will be occupied for quite awhile. I have much to discuss with you, if you are willing to listen."
[11:13] Naoki Sato nodded and turned to take the stone steps behind Berkshire. In a way, his recommendation for privacy was an admission in and of itself, a commitment to the things that they could only do in private lest they garner some unwanted attention. He stopped abreast of the man, looking sideways and upward to take in the regal lines of his face beneath that shock of silver-white hair. Scent bore with it the reminder of the TASTE of him and Sato was already hungry... there was no hesitation when he moved to keep climbing up toward the onsen.
"I am more than well enough," he answered briskly, pausing at the door to the pavilion only to wait for Berkshire, if necessary. If he was close enough at hand Sato simply removed his sandals and stepped inside. He did not seat himself right away, instead simply stepping out of the way of the door and focusing on his hand. Blood pooled in his palm, forming into a coil that solidified into a thick, curving shape like a centipede. He set it on the ground, letting the little homonculus skitter away to deliver what message it was sent to give to the tea house staff.
When Sato straightened up his eyes were shut at first, focusing on the movements of his blood and the path it took. When he opened them again and focused on Berkshire they were sharp, the pupils dilated wide in predatory desire. He took a few steps toward the silver fox, stopping just in front of him to look up at his face from inches away. "What, other than meeting my master for your creation would you like to discuss with me?"
[11:38] Lewis Berkshire: Lewis followed behind Sato up the steps to the empty onsen, this unspoken dance of who might follow who playing out again, stalking with a quiet step. But he moved at a pace to set foot across the threshold just out of arm's reach. At a passing glance he appeared nothing more than a well mannered solictor or man of letters, but the Yokai of course knew better the well hidden beast licking his chops under that mortal veneer. The man had seen him at his worst, or at his best, depending on how one measured such things.
Berkshire could feel Sato's hunger, his eagerness easy to sense. Recollection of the pale man's blood, that essence on his tongue, darkened his manner once he was out of the public eye. He also paused inside, casting a glance over the low long table and floor cushions, the sounds and smell of the restless pond just below the structure. He turned to look at the other man just as the little blood formed creature slithered from his fingers. A brow hitched again, noting its departure though he did
[11:38] Lewis Berkshire: not glean its usage yet. Once staff showed up he might take a guess however and become bemused by his companion all over again.
For the moment however Sato was the aggressive one, stepping close to stare up at him with the eyes of a hungering monster not terribly different from himself, perhaps only in degree. His own gaze could finally be witnessed, tilting his head down to align his stare to meet the other man's headon, vivid fierce green gold around a pupil dark as his soul, slowly expanding in response to the cold empty wells confronting him. He did not move however, choosing his own moment to strike....He wanted to play with his prey in his own way. He gave a toothy grin in reply, holding off whipping his claws into the man for the more civilized exchange of words first.
He gestured with free hand towards the cushions, the song of water and wind beyond the open door across the room, uncurling his fingers elegant yet containing the hidden threat of sharp points with just that simple movement. "Shall we sit?" Lewis purred but got right to the only unbloody point, "I have heard you are the man to ask. I have a need for swords. Custom made one."
[11:50] Naoki Sato | Proximity to Berkshire was akin to standing near an open flame. It licked heat against his skin, not of temperature but desire as the scent of the man and the palpable warmth of his body stoked the flames in Sato's own core. Despite the dead pallor in his eyes, a faded blue almost leeched of life, the gaze that latched to Berkshire's own golden greens was honed and focused. He did not budge when the young man came to the pavilion in his yukata, marking him as one of the onsen attendants.
"Should we bother with food?" Sato asked, only moving to take a seat once Berkshire mentioned a custom blade. That, at least, was going to take a little bit of discussion before he gave in to other things gnawing at his brain. Folding his feet beneath him, Sato propped one arm on a bent knee and braced the other against the floor. "I know a man who can make you blade. He will need specifications. Material, length, style..." Sato's eyes flicked to the attendant. "Any extra functionality," he added with enough vagueness a pointed stare to indicate he did not know if this particular onsen attendant knew about the magical world.
As they spoke the staffer waited patiently, looking between the two men and then at the pavilion as if mildly concerned at the state he'll find it in when they're done.
[12:13] Lewis Berkshire: Out of view of any potential witnesses Lewis was transformed, his polished decorum cast away to reveal a refined but barely restrained predator, his desires steeped in blood, burning as hot in his eyes as the fever radiating from his body. His gaze was sharp as the blades he wished to speak of, matching Sato's bleached blues with just a glimpse of the savage will that powered himself. He didn't break the staring contest either when the server showed up. Nor until the smaller man turned to take a seat. Lewis raked his speculation over him, again lingering on that exposed expanse of pale skin veined dark as memories he had banished long ago. Tracing them again with his claws tempted him far more than any mortal food could.
"Honey wine for me. That will suffice." He replied in the interim, flicking that stare towards the attendent just long enough to weigh the person's potential for amusement as opposed to whether that one was aware of the two monsters they faced. Then Lewis shrugged, judging the staffer knew at least enough to do their job discreetly, regardless of what happened in this room once the door was closed. He stepped away from the entrance finally, choosing his own cushion to face the Yokai over the low table. He flowed down into a crossed legged posture with utter ease, no hint of age as he moved, somewhat mirroring the other man's posture.
"Hmm, good. I have a written list of my specifications. The design is not...common. Is this man of sufficient skill for non traditional smithing?" Lewis was also vague in his own way, while also showing his tastes yet again tended towards something strange and mysterious possibly. Meanwhile he relaxed in his lounging pose, a hunter settling into a patient waiting, his stare lingering over Sato's appeal with leisurely growing interest.
For a moment however his slight anticipatory smile thinned, his attention straying towards the door opening to the waterway, eyes narrowing briefly even sharper than he had inflicted upon his drinking companion. Something tinged upon his wide ranging senses, something even perhaps darker in nature than his own many seething urges.
[12:30] Naoki Sato seemed to relish the shift he saw in Berkshire in private. Decorum and discretion were things that Sato himself took a long time to learn. It had to be trained into him and still, despite being far more disciplined, he they did not enjoy having to hide his hungers. The two of them knew they did not have to worry about the discretionary skills of the teahouse staff and due to that, being present within the walls policed by that staff filled Sato with a certain feel of impunity. That coupled with his own recent success with necromancy had emboldened the man.
Rather than remain lounging, Sato stood as the attendant left them and walked around the table to Bershire's cushion. He stood over the man, raising the hand with the blood still stained on its palm. Red liquid pooled, oozing from pores, seeping through skin... it formed the shape of a small, slender and curved blade - like a model image of a sword.
"Describe the blade," he said, more a statement than a question. As Sato waited, the bloodform blade his palm curved and twisted forming various shapes as he exercised his mastery over the manipulation of his vitae to shape it to his whim. Standing as he was, it was obvious to Berkshire that the Jikininki was enjoying their second encounter, even the heady arousal that surged through his slender form was tempered by an ache, a consistent and growing pain that only served to heighten his drives.
[12:58] Lewis Berkshire: Any kind of manners was just a cloak Berkshire wore over his true nature. One might wonder what he was like in his natural evironment amongst his own kind. The edge of darkness held in his smile, the endless depth of it in his eyes, suggested he might be a terror even then.
Even perhaps moreso considering this Sidhe could achieve relative privacy for his crimes with but a thought. Any four walls would do to ensure noone would even realize any predatory violence was underway, nor notice the aftermath until he was long gone from the scene. Even many supernatural beings didn't have sufficient power to resist being fooled by Lewis' seamless cunning illusions. Tangling with this particular man was to invite certain disaster with little hope of intervention.
Lewis was struck by the more slender man's confidence, it rolled off him as stronglly as his scent, the tang of blood still lingering from the lines in his flesh. His attention snapped to the expert use of blood magic, the sword shape oozing out of Sato's body, a crimson dream drawn into reality with his will. A passing gleam of raging frustration might be seen in Berkshire's eyes at the time but the expression was fleeting enough to be missed. In any case, the man was suitably impressed with the blood users skills, nodding in approval of the detailed model.
He stayed lounged without a care in the world, searing a stare from Sato's feet slowly up his body to linger on his chest, his throat, before finding his hollow gaze again. Desire flared there, a shared electric feeling perhaps, burning bright in his own greengold irises. He almost purred without words, the Yokai's exquisite meld of pain and arousal something the empath savored as avidly as his preferred honeywine.
His regard remained hungrily upon Sato, roaming everywhere he wanted his mouth and teeth to find next, but he remained on topic for the moment. "Much longer than that, the main body goes wider in a curve until the end point that is squared off..." He paused considering how to relate it to known patterns, "A blade between a katana and a scimitar. The metal must be hammered over many times to create strong layers and also worked with a mix of copper into the base metal. I can of course pay for the needed materials..."
Lewis finally broke the tension tightening between them, reaching up to snare the edge of that open shirt of his, seeking to tug it right off the shoulder he had marked twice before with a wolfish smile, showing all his teeth, the sharp points of them. "A set of blades, light enough to be swift in the hand, yet thick enough to deliver a brutal impact..." The silver fox purred teasing in his own way to the pale dead eyed Yokai.
[13:13] Naoki Sato molded and shaped his blood without much effort. It was so close and still connected to him, making it easy to manipulate and maintain. As Berkshire mentioned alterations and specifications for the shape of the blade, Sato focused to bring those into reality in the blood construct he created. The arc grew, creating a wider curve, shaping the end as he described. "A fusion of influences," he stated, nodding as he watched the shape hovering over his hand with fascination. "Yes, I think he can manage."
Momentarily as the one side of his haori was yanked open, falling off of his shoulder to reveal the contours of lithe chest muscle, the prominent ribs, the stark line of his collar bone, Sato's construct wavered. It resolidified as he focused on Lewis, letting the blood soften and flow into a coil around his own wrist rather than dissipate. Stepping over the man, he moved to straddle his lap and lower himself, hovering with the strength of his thighs just above him without touching.
"This swordsmith has made blades for me. Knives for surgery. A katana of my own with a specially-grooved edge." He leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of Berkshire's ear. "Someday perhaps we can cross blades and test the mettle of our creations."
[13:40] Lewis Berkshire: Lewis's description was brought to life by Sato's magic, the sinuous yet savage outline of the weapon taking shape. He nodded in satisfaction, the younger man's skills exceptionally precise to reflect his words. One would presume this style of sword was common where Lewis was from in truth, though in practice the man would merely claim he had come across it in some exotic place in his many travels around the world in pursuit of his mysterious business ventures.
"Good." The gent replied on the matter, their business discussion suddenly over when Sato's slim cool musculature was exposed. Lewis accepted Sato's boldness this time, allowing the other man to kneel over his thighs, bringing his face, that tempting slope of bare shoulder, towards the Sidhe's hungers above and below. The Yokai could hear and feel the vibration of Lewis' answering growl as he leaned in to speak, teasing him with whispering lips and the promise of violence. The man was unknowing catnip to this Wyld being, luring him down into his darkest appetites.
"Yes." Lewis snarled, the challenge accepted, and his hands shot out with frightening speed to capture the smaller man in his sudden claws and pull him down hard against his need fully. The world outside the onsen dimmed into a raging hurricane of cherry blossoms, red as blood and as sweet to hide this moment from any prying eyes.
The Sidhe still clothed in his weathered human seeming sought to run sharp fingers up through Sato's hair, talon tips scraping on his scalp to grasp the back of his skull with commanding strength unless he peeled away in time. His other hand attempted to seize the other man's narrow hip, white curved talons sinking through the fabric to the flesh beneath to snag deep and pin him down atop Lewis' rising lust. Lewis surged his hips upwards to meet the other's pelvis with a slow taunting roll, the burgeoning ridge of his erection swelling hard to press into the Yokai's undercarriage in no uncertain terms.
The man's cruel smiling lips opened, all his fangs long elegant and thirsting for his blood, eyes blazing bright greengold as he prepared to strike his prey like a snake, aiming with exacting skill towards the base of his neck flowing to line of shoulder where he had sunk his teeth before, now to lay yet another marking upon the first and second times if successful.
Despite his attack, Lewis gave the sense he intended to take his time for this second round. Whether that was a good thing in contrast to his previous rushed brutality or whether this time was likely to become an extremely torturous episode was yet to be experienced.
[13:52] Naoki Sato did not expect that discussion to last long. It was a simple thing, ascertaining the details for asking this commission of the swordmaker he had in mind. The conversation with the man himself was a different story and something they would deal with when the time came. For now he was far too enthralled by the feeling of that hard, rousing stiffness jutting up against him and the tantalizing promise of those claws piercing his skin.
Sato did not fight the bite that came to his trapezius, scoring a mark deep where Berkshire's first two bites had left him tender and sensitive, even after healing. The feel of teeth puncturing his skin made his hips rock into the lap beneath him, his eyes rolling. The Jikininki was hungry for this. The tent in his own trousers and the heady scent of precum tinged on the air were evidence enough.
But he would not simply take this. His hand gripped at Berkshire's shirtfront, blood slick from his palm moving to undo buttons slip into the knot of his tie, yank and tug and pull until he was baring the man's chest and evening their states of undress. But that blood too was going elsewhere, sliding down the front of his body, undoing his pants, seeking to wrap around and stroke at his lenght like seeking tendrils slick and warm, their movements jerky as Lewis got his first taste of the Yokai for that evening.
[14:28] Lewis Berkshire: Berkshire's mastery of Glamour ensured that anyone who might happen to peer into the onsen from any angle would only see what was expected. Two guests sitting at the table sedately sharing a drink and nothing more. The reality was likely to be bloody wreckage before long, regardless of what the Yokai was bound to experience. The storm of petals was just a backdrop for the Sidhe's whims, all his appearance a mere construct of his wild imaginings. Frankly this being was going around literally stark naked in reality but no one would ever know, until he wanted them to *see*. In this instance, Lewis had his impulses to follow, chuckling into Sato's flesh as he felt the blood magician using the tendrils of his blood to undress the fiction of that tweed suit. Instead of indulging in that particular act of undressing this time, the Glamour shifting around them until Sato was sitting upon the silvered gent bare to the world that could not see them on the edge of the pool outside.
The sky was full of cherry blossoms, blotting out the light, only the two men entwined by the swirling water. Berkshire kept his older male facade however, his body revealed in peak fitness, his chest hair salt and pepper leading down to a silver trail to his throbbing erection. He appeared human sized though still formidable, yet Sato knew the true risk hidden there. Sato's tongues of blood found naked flesh now, tasting of a mix of the human guise and the Sidhe's true bittersweet essence, a new game perhaps he was playing with the half dead fellow, but his grip on the man's cock was still certain. Lewis let go his jaws enough to groan deep from the man's bloody stroke, his heartbeat a drum pounding through his shaft where the Yokai squeezed him, his hips surging against the man's underside again, his claws seeking to rip the smaller man's pants off him in one savage swipe.
[14:52] Naoki Sato felt the swirl of Aether around him, signaling the Sidhe was erecting Glamour to hide them away from prying eyes. The poor attendant was a bit confused when he wandered in and smelled blood amid the peaceful patrons inside and simply... set their order down and backed away to give them privacy. The attendant and the rest of the world was for the moment lost to him. There were things he could feel - of course there were - but they were eclipsed momentarily by that deep ache, the sharp sting of teeth piercing skin and the rending of muscle beneath.
Once he was reminded that the suit the man wore was simply a farce, the blood turned to touching skin - both on his own body and on Berkshire's. He 'tasted' every inch of the man he could, blood-red 'tongues' moving over the pulsepoints in his wrists, his neck, his inner thighs... lapping at his cock and the sack that dangled beneath it. He cut at the hakama he wore, slicing at the cloth with little regard for it until Berkshire was able to rip it away and leave him nude, bare and feverishly hot in Lewis' lap.
Sato's own prick, still thick and inhuman and knotted, was painfully stiff with one new addition - a thick metal ring around the base, locked together to not entirely prevent orgasm but make it incredibly difficult from the pressure it exerted on the knot. "Insatiable," he murmured, his tendrils wrapping around Lewis' base to seek to position him as others of their ilk slid in to stretch and prepare Sato's hole for that massive insertion.
[15:22] Lewis Berkshire: Lewis' bite was as deep and savage as before, lingering longer to test the resiliency of the other's flesh in his teeth, tasting of this bloodletting like a cat with cream. Eventually he pulled his fangs free of Sato's flesh entirely, leaving his mark overlaid per his exacting standards. He intended to paint Sato once again in the crimson art of pain, inflict every twist of pleasure he could wring from his victim and do his utmost to tear a scream or few from Sato's lips before this battle was done.
Sato's blood magic wrapped around a silken feverdream in human form, the feel of his skin truer to what he truly was but his facade remaining the regal british lord. His scent was both the whisky tinged musk mingling with that possily exhilirating frost kissed Wyld persimmon sweetness, all lifting from his skin whereever the little demon's blood wandered. Lewis allowed to shudder slightly from the numerous small caresses the other was sliding over his senses, wriggling close to his own more vulnerable places to sharpen his instincts. His violent impulses however channeled towards indulging in his companion in every way his power would allow, his awareness sinking slowly into the richness of the Yokai's evocative being, his comples emotional signatures, his delicious physical responses, his deep endless *hungering* that burned in the core of the half alive being sparking his own unfathomable needs to manifest.
He growled again, a sound too deep and bone rattling to come from a human throat, brushing hot velvet against Sato's neck along with the wet glide of Lewis' tongue seeking to lick along his pulse line to his jawline, his fingers tightening in the man's short hair to try to *tug* enough to bare his throat in an arch. Sato's whisper was the truth for them both, always.
"Yes..." Hot words growled in his ear, as all those tendrils stroking his cock to full raging readiness, the tickle and movement of them licking at his balls, his thighs, over his skin everywhere was too much, too much dizzy sensory overload of his own nerves symphany to join all that he gleaned from Sato's feverhot desperate thirsty body and mind, the turgid press of his massive graft so painfully collared he could almost feel it himself, pressed hot against his abs, reaching impressively to his ribcage. The slim pretty half demon in his arms was a maddening lure that shattered his intention to conduct a slow seduction. The Yokai once again proving he had the ability to get under this Sidhe's skin and tempt him past all self control, lust and rage, hunger and curiosity, all driving forces towards this bloody crash between the two monsters this time.
His expression darkened to rapaciousness, allowing himself to be tugged into position only long enough to aim true, his hips surging with brutal impatience to pinion Sato's ass deep with his true overwhelming size if the smaller man didn't stop him in time.
((continued in discord))