altimit | .:October Fun Times:.

[ Ganymede is out of sorts in the middle of his height of bliss, though not enough so that he doesn't hear Michel talking to him still. But already like this, he feels a protest building up, even if he really can't for a moment.

But the moment after, the moment when it is all said and truly done for a single second, he tries to find his voice, even if it would be pitched after the command to be silent. Even with the other man relentlessly deciding keep his ruthless pace through his climax, the sensation of oversensitivity being nothing but overwhelming.

A slight prickle of pain, perhaps, though all it serves is induce excitement inside of him all over again, to build that arousal up again. He's already seeing stars again when he defies those words, slightly strangled, voice rough still— ]

I...I c-came here...for M-Michel...!

[ His words are bitten off into another cry, fingers still gripping hard into his own palms. He even throws his head back—he should tell Michel to stop. To wait, but there's also a semblance of intense stubbornness and desire to see if the other can make him writhe for as long as he can. To know how much he can take.

(Has he ever considered the prospect that he is far too headstrong? Ganymede believes he is firmly in control of this.

And he hates the idea of giving in, most of all.)

Again, and again, he lets Michel use his body, ram into it as much as he likes, to the point where he's seeing stars—at times bliss, that he somehow reaches in ways he never thought possible. Shaky taunts in between it all, declaring his cruelty at a limit for letting him breathe, when honest to god it means he doesn't slip unconscious during all this, and he should probably be grateful for the mercy.

Again and again, until at last—

Ganymede loses track of himself, and everything, with a loud cry that might as well be a scream of pleasure—and then...

Well, even he has limits. After about three hours or so, he's lying there on the table still, sweaty, hair sticking ungracefully to his face, his body, face flushed, and eyes staring up at the man who has more or less had his fill. But finally stopped—though certainly not without making a mess of him, in more than one sense of the word. ]

Nngh...even you have your limits—don't you?

[ One last taunt for the road, perhaps. How does Ganymede have energy to be a little bit cheeky? ...Don't ask. ]

[ This time, a retort is a little slow in coming. ~~Much like Gorre, by now.~~ He stares down at Ganymede with unfocused eyes, chest heaving, body slick with sweat... among other things.

Very repeatable data. Consistent. So much of it. He blinks slowly, and then ceases bothering to support his weight, sprawling messily on top of Ganymede. His cheek is pillowed on Ganymede's shoulder for the moment, his eyes closed. He's not making a move to untie Ganymede yet. He's not conceding anything. He's just... a little lightheaded. A miscalculation with this vessel and food. ]

I... should leave you here. Perhaps the reason none of the visitors are using this room is... lack of materials...

[ Leaving them this, his data source to toy with with the instruments in this room... that could be cruel. Gorre just can't seem to summon the strength to move very far just yet. He slides his palm over Ganymede's side, down his flank, measuring the reaction in the tension of those muscles. Or lack thereof. For all the taunting, he thinks even Ganymede might finally be exhausted as well.

Sluggishly, he slides himself a little down Ganymede's body. He can muster enough energy for a few bites here and there, scattered at random over whatever soft skin his lips happen to pass over. He isn't even opening his eyes anymore. More marks. His. More overstimulation on overloaded nerves... he thinks. His calculations are so far askew now. ]

[ For the record, Ganymede is feeling like he has just run a different kind of marathon entirely. One that is less about running and more about enduring.

That being said, he lets out a hoarse yelp of surprise when Michel pitches over, lying atop him. He was already messy enough, and now...like this, they're bound to be looking even more—well, thankfully it's only the two of them. And even more thankfully, no one else has decided to traverse the fuckhouse while they have been (are) occupied. There's no amount of words that Ganymede himself would have to explain any of this; he'd just have to delete himself. Goodbye.

But his half-opened eyes gaze at the tall male whose head is nestled against his shoulder, eyes closed. Those words are spoken with each ounce of cruelty etched into his being—another hidden fantasy of Michel's? ]

I had no idea...that you'd be so open to me sharing my 'data' would other people. It...defeats the purpose of being y-yours, doesn't it?

[ And, well, there may be muscles there. Perhaps easier to miss on a smaller dancer's build—though certainly not enough to untwinkify him (or make him into a twunk.) He does close his eyes, feeling the bites being pressed against his skin, letting out a soft sigh—the sensations feeling sudden, more than anything. He doesn't have the energy to even squirm, let alone move. ]

You really can't get enough of me...can't you?

[ That question. It's funny, too funny. Gorre bites down wherever his mouth happens to find itself — low on Ganymede's stomach, under his ribs, he finds when he blinks his eyes open drowsily — and preoccupies himself with leaving a vivid mark against the skin there. It's a while before he can bother shifting enough to speak. ]

But you aren't "mine." You insist, again and again, that you're looking for him. In which case... all you are to me is data. And he would despise the thought.

[ Cruelty from a machine towards a person who no longer exists is pointless, and beneath his notice. But it slips out anyway, as if on some sort of reflex. Well... no loss. It would hardly be the only data generated.

He nuzzles his way towards Ganymede's thighs, still all but boneless. He really doesn't have the strength to do much more. But maybe he can still inflict a little more cruelty. Leave a few more marks for him to muse over. See if he can provoke any lingering reaction from Ganymede and then leave him here. ]

...Mm. No one else has shared so much with me. So eagerly.

[ Ganymede doesn't exactly separate Gorre from Michel...because now he is a part of him. So he looks at him so confused, gazing at him, but the pounding in his head makes it difficult for a moment to put things together. There has been a non-zero possibility his head got jostled in a bad way when he was being taken so roughly for hours on end.

He's definitely going to be sore too. No doubt about it. He does feel himself twinge a bit at a mark left behind; pleasant enough but the tired haze in his mind doesn't mean he's going to say that. ]

...You're the one who said so before, though...you're ridiculous, acting like you have nothing to do with Michel...

[ He murmurs in objection because Ganymede doesn't believe Michel is gone, of course. And man, he is getting a few reactions (pleasant sensations, he feels) from him by leaving kisses as well as any bite marks, though it will sincerely be hard to get it up one more time. Well...maybe.

The other words do net a reaction of some other kind, his attitude flaring back up. ]

What are you thinking...saying something like that? Are...you trying to embarrass me now? You've got your fluids all over me, so that's impossible.

[ Even Gorre is a little sore after all that. Sore, and completely drained of energy. It's almost comical how simple it would be to kill him right now. He turns his head to leave another bite on Ganymede's thigh just beside the first. He can still do more of these... ]

Humans are the only ones who refuse to adjust their conclusions to new information. I never denied his influence in my initial data model. Nor wearing his skin.

[ Belatedly, he wonders just how much physical conditioning and reactions he inherited with that wiring. It would explain, somewhat. He lets out a sigh as he turns his face to begin marking Ganymede's other thigh, slow and methodical. He's not wholly insensible to the signs of pain, the little winces Ganymede gave or the moments his eyes were unfocused not simply from pleasure. He has data from the fight, being present. He can infer.

All the more, data. ]

Nothing suggests to me that you can be embarrassed. If you had a sense of shame, it should have expressed itself when I tore off your robes. Or before you begged me to use you for my data collection...

[ Sore, completely drained of energy, and marking him up possessively. The irony Ganymede might cry about in almost disbelief if he weren't mostly feeling like he still had run a 100 mile marathon. ]

All these big words you're saying sound like excuses. You know that?

[ They sound kind of like, petulant, and very Micheleseque. Try as Michel might, in any form, he can't deny that he will sound so alien to divorce himself completely from such an existence. Maybe that is the true cruelty of it at all.

Though, he does bite his lip a little when his other thigh is being paid close attention to. At the further commentary, though, he feels his cheeks warm again because his clothes being torn off was hot, excuse, to say nothing of when he begged him. But he swears he still wants to shove one of his currently bound hands straight into Michel's face. Even tired, he can be easy to rile up, it seems. ]

Ugh! Then why did you say that?! A-and...so what!?

[ Help. ]

[ Gorre's teeth close much more forcefully on Ganymede's thigh, the mark much darker this time. He contemplates the sensation as he drags this one out, finally lifting his head to look down at Ganymede when he finishes this last. ]

How familiar... Why don't you go ahead and tell me that I've lost my mind? That I'm simply delusional?

[ The Michel data says, you must keep screaming anyway. Even though it always hurts, and they will never stop hurting you as long as you still resist.

He isn't Michel. He has no obligation to choose that for himself. And for the memory of the man who so desperately desired to be understood, this last indignity is appropriate. He finally leverages himself into a sitting position to fix his pants, looking down at the mess splashed over his skin wryly. Is it even worth putting the rest of his clothes on yet? Likely not. ]

There is no "so what." I said it because it was a fact.

[ He finally moves to stand, though he sways a little on his feet the instant they touch the ground. Dizzy... ]

[ That sudden harder bite was entirely on purpose and Ganymede just knows it. The fact it gets a small yelp? Just incidental. ]

I'm telling you...that you're more human than you think.

Saying one thing and then going back on it...but calling it something like 'updating conclusions due to new information' is just an excuse. And that's something humans do all the time.

[ Sure he isn't Michel. Just keep telling yourself that!! He watches the other male try to fix himself up...kind of. Where is the self-respect? Michel has also lost a lot of shame like this too, hasn't he? ]

You didn't explain why you said that, though. Or maybe, you just don't have an explanation for that? It's just something you wanted to say. Because you liked it.

[ Is Michel going to faceplant into the ground during this tired talk...? ]

[ Little barbs. Little cruelties. They sink their hooks in, because if he couldn't feel pain, how could he gather data? These sensors are needed...

The data is welcome. The sensation is not. Gorre takes an unsteady step, and then another, before he concludes that this body can support him for now. Despite his preferences, it seems he can't put off maintenance much longer. ]

I have explanations. But whatever I say, you will discard for what suits you best. So... I won't expend energy on them.

[ He's tried and failed to hush Ganymede. But he can, at least, control himself. Gorre leans up to begin undoing the cuffs in silence. He has no more to say, as long as it seems purposeless. Leaving Ganymede here, freeing him to force him to beg the next passerby if he chooses to admit that his excitement at these trappings were completely separate from whatever partner used them on him... either is acceptable. This more clearly indicates that Gorre is finished here, he thinks. ]

[ Ganymede just laughs a little at his words. Maybe he just finds them disbelieving. But maybe it's also true...though does he believe those words? Not really. ]

You've twisted my words too. What makes you think you're any better?

...But, even now, you're so kind to me, Michel.

[ No one can quiet Ganymede unless it means killing him. Not even Michel.

But once Michel's finished undoing the cuffs, he moves suddenly, with a lot more energy seemingly than before, wrapping his arms tightly around him. ]

Still, it's also unfair if I don't leave one more mark before we leave the room.

[ Then, he aims to bite down hard as he can one more section of the other male's revealed neck, one more spot to join the other harshly bitten mark from earlier, and then, he will let go. ]

[ He doesn't have the strength left to jerk free of that grip even if it was his intention — another miscalculation, thanks to this idiosyncratic sample. He shies away slightly just the same, the body's reaction more than his. Something old and buried, unearthed as Gorre stripped away all the unneeded data.

He stills again when Ganymede's teeth dig in against his neck. He permits it with a slow blink, reaching up to touch the place when Ganymede pulls away. His eyes hold half a question, what does it mean?

He doesn't want to know the label to this data. So he doesn't ask. Still silent and true to his word, he'll try to shuffle towards the door, whether Ganymede pursues or not. ]

[ Ganymede takes in the expression on the other's face, and his reaction. It's delightful to see it, because he seems to have stumped the man.

He remembers...before, that he was fairly good at that. Leaving Michel at a loss.

Why did he think it was different now? He will draw him out of him. Even if it hurts. Even if it's painful. Even if he will have to carve his whole being out of the darkness again.

Until Michel is back by his side again. He meant every word of it. How it happens...he will just have to see. So, smile still on his face, he swings his feet back and forth innocently as the other shuffles slowly towards the door. Then, he descends off the table, bare feet against the cold floor.

It's also a simple matter to re-equip his clothing right back onto him. He isn't walking out of the room naked, though he will be taking a deep scrub later, and for a little bit, Ganymede will follow him. Only one exit is available, after all. ]

Edited 2023-11-16 21:34 (UTC)

[ As proof that Gorre isn't Michel, he doesn't bother dressing in more than his pants before fleeing the room. Any tower visitors can simply deal with the additional horror of perhaps encountering him half-naked and sticky. He also doesn't look back at Ganymede.

The tower itself has one exit, mazelike as it is. But Gorre knows his own domain and heads unerringly back upwards, in the direction of his throne room. Even the master of the tower now is a little daunted by the stairs. He has to pause every so often to let the dizziness subside, one hand on the wall. Practically speaking — he doesn't care if he falls and breaks his neck. But it would certainly bring an end to his purpose here...

He needs food. But he is not pausing to eat on the stairway like a student sneaking meals between class. And he is not eating while he's still this messy. Up more stairs. Further, towards rooms no visitors to the tower could find on their own, because the winding passages simply won't allow it. He pays no heed to anything but his objective, content with the certainty that Ganymede will have lost interest at last now that his toy has ceased responding. ]

[ Ganymede follows still, ignoring the dull sore ache that eventually is making an appearance due to certain activities, and of course, the bigger one centered at the back of his head.

His feet are not all that sore, though, and he doesn't feel dizziness even if he does feel tired. He decides to follow because there is admittedly some concern and...curiosity. ]

...So, why did you think it was a good idea to make a lot of passages again?

[ What's that about lost interest? ]

[ Gorre glances sidelong, eyes narrowing slightly. He could still evict him. That little quirk of this arena, his territory...

It would also still take a little exercise of energy. He turns his head back to face forward, eyes on his intended course. His shoulder brushes the wall and he leans his weight there briefly. He truly had been ignoring his limits. ]

In the hopes that irritating visitors would get lost and starve to death without me wasting the energy of evicting them.

[ When Michel looks at him, Ganymede tilts his head a bit as if confused, and looking like the picture of innocence despite what he has been getting up to with the person in question not that long ago.

But he also keeps close, and seeing if he might need to help him at some point. ]

Irritating visitors? Have you had any, without using me as an example?

[ ... ]

...You really have been pushing yourself, haven't you? You probably also should have just made a secret room nearby your throne room only you could access which would open up at a single command instead of making things needlessly complicated.

[ Is Ganymede using his single braincell at an inopportune time? Yes. ]

You would be. Surprised.

[ The pauses are more for breath than anything else, although the emphasis doesn't hurt. Nor does the moment to grimly consider what visitors he's had.

Ganymede's suggestion isn't too far off the mark, anyway. This particular passageway by his throne room looks dusty and undisturbed, the doors as ominous as any of the others here. But when Gorre leans his shoulder against this one, it gives way to a intensely melodramatic and faintly horrific looking bath. What? Did everyone think Gorre had been going without basic hygiene for the week leading up to his fight? ]

I am not an administrator. I don't have the ability to freely remake the world to that extent. If you want to get this over with and kill me...

[ Well, it's what a bath like this was practically made for. Gorre strips off his clothes again, as thoughtless about his nudity as he was earlier, and walks into the water to sink nearly up to his nose. Go away. He's so tired. ]

I would? Because more people than you imagined wanted to see you?

[ Ganymede is wondering idly about how many people have managed to annoy Michel...but fondly. Michel will still always be Michel; he probably hasn't been very happy at entertaining a broad spectrum of guests, whether for data or otherwise.

But, hey, there sure is a bath, and he is dirty. Incidentally, Ganymede is immediately stripping himself around the time the other says some nonsense about killing him. ]

Why would I want to do that?

[ He then goes to dip his toes in, to join Michel in, completely naked again. Then, seats himself nearby, small enough that, well. He could surely still fit inside. ]

Only to antagonize.

[ He can already sense the unsteady verbal footing, how Ganymede will use any gap to twist his words again. He falls silent, glaring a little over the surface of the water. There's room enough for both of them, and it isn't worth the energy expenditure of evicting him. He does need that food first... ]

Nevermind. Wishful thinking.

[ It's a dismissal to cut off the subject in the reflexive way that comes to Gorre's thoughts first. Michel's dry sarcasm, delivered with the razor edge of his unfortunate honesty. He closes his eyes again and considers sinking the rest of the way under the water. Maybe... this body will simply fall asleep here. ]

Hmm...just to antagonize?

[ Is that the only category Michel would consider to land people into 'irritating'? Ganymede can't help but wonder, his natural-born curiosity coming back from the war. ]

...It's not really a healthy way of thinking.

[ He points out anyway. Ganymede doesn't close his eyes, mind too awake for that despite the veil of fatigue settling over him. Maybe he should keep an eye on Michel, though he also considers the prospect of teasing him that he's become an oversized prune if he forgets to keep track of time for a proper bath.

That'd be kind of hilarious, actually. ]

Yes.

[ To which statement? Possibly both. Gorre is not the Phase researching healthy thinking.

He tips his head back to let it rest on the edge of the bath, baring his throat and the marks. It would be so easy for someone with even a little initiative to slide a knife right there. He remembers Ganymede speaking of stabbing a man... He thinks of some of the others who have come. Mithrun hasn't been here yet, but he thinks Mithrun would. He lets out a slow sigh, a little wistful. ]

I don't care. [ It's too tired to be surly, but the spirit is there. ] Why are you still here?

[ He ever thought about changing his field of research? ...Silly question.

Ganymede brings his own knees close to himself, leaning his head a bit more forward so he make sound in the water to bring up small bubbles. Though he is also looking at Michel as he's lying in the warm water, and brings his head back up again. ]

Now you sound like a baby.

I'm here because of you. If you fell and crack your head open on the floor like an egg, I'd hate that. Also, I need to wash up.

[ Ganymede is really not going to bother hiding what he thinks on the matter, even if it will definitely not help Michel's surly not-surliness. ]

...Would you?

[ Hate that. If Gorre has been somehow lured into speaking again, he's going to selectively fixate on only the parts that warrant a response. He's too tired, but he's otherwise certainly not above damaging himself to get more data.

That's right. That had been his plan before he was distracted. He knows in what regard Ganymede holds this body. He opens one eye again, just a little, to look across at him. ]

You still owe me a confession.

I already answered that, didn't I?

[ Ganymede splashes water childishly over at Michel, because he can't believe the question being asked his way. Imagining Michel lying down with his head cracked open and in a pool of blood...

No thanks. ]

A confession to what? I already gave you one of those. Unless you want another one? Aren't you being a little greedy?

[ His words earlier...when Michel prodded him at an answer, choking him. That was his confession. He can't believe this guy right now.

Well, that is another reason why he's splashing water at him, actually. ]

we all aboard the timeskip scene

gorre battle regrettably retconned bc he expired first

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