Let's keep in touch

Got a spark in your heart so strike it

He has been thinking lately, which should be less dangerous than his usual methods, except that it's brought him here. Whether correct or not, he attributes Frey as Flora's chosen deity. They seem to have enough in common, and that's without the matching deviousness of his first sleepover at Torchline.

He frowns at the shrine for a minute, like he can't quite decide if this is a good idea or just one of those half formed thoughts you get late at night that seem brilliant, the cousin of a dream. He does remain though, sits actually, knees drawn up as he leans over them like he's preparing for a long chat with the trickling water and wind tossed chimes. He's holding two ice cream cones, the strawberry one that he keeps for himself, and the mint chip that he extends towards the shrine, although he doesn't place it. He almost seems to intend for Frey to materialize and grab it from him, because otherwise it'd get grass and dirt on it and that's gross. He did take a lick or two when it started to melt on the walk over, but he doubts Frey will mind.

"Hey Frey," he says, perhaps a bit too conversationally, like this is the grave of a long lost friend that he checks in on weekly and not the sanctity of a God's ear. "Sooooo, I was hoping you could help me stay connected better with Flora. She's always running around doing dangerous shit and it makes me worried. It's also not the best that I always see her," he trails off for a moment, recognizing that both the times he'd checked on her for fear of her current state are the two times he ended up kissing her, and more. He wouldn't abandon his friend, but maybe not rushing into her rooms alone when either of them are in a state of distress would be better. "Some way we can talk to each other still, no matter the distance or the time of day, and fast if we need to." If he could keep just a little more distance, maybe it wouldn't be so hard to bear the times he's close.

---

Sex frey quest for 2 way parchment, pls use level 3 item reward

The chimes above the shrine hush—not silenced, but softened, like they’re leaning in to listen. The wind stills just enough for the scent of ice cream to linger, sharp and sweet, and then there’s a warmth beside Kaisel that hadn’t been there before. It coils like a body in sunlight, heavy with want and curiosity both.

Frey appears slowly, not summoned so much as revealed, like they’ve always been crouched in the curve of the shrine’s shadow, waiting for the moment to slide forward into being. Naked, naturally, their body is a living mosaic of everything Kaisel most desires. They’re on their knees in the grass before him, legs folded with feline grace, hair tousled like they’ve just stepped out of someone’s bed and wouldn’t mind stepping into another.

They don’t ask before taking the cone.

Frey’s fingers brush his lightly—just enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stir—before they lean in. Their mouth parts around the top of the mint chip like it’s a lover’s invitation, and they glide their lips down the length of it in one slow, deliberate pass. When they draw back, the ice cream is gone.

They lick their lips, lazily. Kaisel will feel the ghost of it across his—a tingle, cool and sweet, chased by heat. "Mmm," they purr, eyes half-lidded, head tilted. "Communication is important," they agree, each syllable rich and low, like silk pulled tight. "It’s the difference between a fleeting fuck and a life-long ache. Between a whisper in the dark and someone who will be there when you’re hurting."

Their smile curls slow and dangerous, and Frey leans in to press their lips against Kaisel's ear. "Not the same as things done in person, though." They flick a finger, and the air between them hums faintly, like the echo of something beginning. "But I suppose that's for you to learn, mm?"

---

Kai has been given a quest! He must
1. Play a game of chirades!
2. Only communicate via writing for an entire thread.
3. Draw me someone like one of your french girls (aka nude)
4. Write down some big feelings and either destroy them (message in a bottle, throwing into a volcano, burning, etc), or deliver them (bonus points for this one).

Frey

Got a spark in your heart so strike it

This is the part that made coming here unwise. Frey's magnitude had been overpowering once already for him, and a convenient excuse that he still likes to use. Although he thinks he's prepared for the reemergence, has specifically selected a cold treat to keep down the heat in fact, there's no denying the immediate stir of desire that floods him when Frey appears. Their sexual aura is enough to drown a man like him on a good day, but the tease of their touch, the masterful deepthroat of the ice cream (no brain freeze??? perhaps what he's most jealous of), and their perfectly golden appearance is a threat to the very idea of composure.

Blush seizes him like a fever, which might explain the way his throat feels like it tightens too, sick with desire instead of dysentery though. His fingers drift over his lips when the tingle settles, and he stammers out a "r-right," in response to their agreement of communication. Thankfully they don't ask a question, because words have all left him by the time Frey leans in, their breath on his ear causing a shudder that threatens to topple his ice cream as much as himself.

Blinking back the threat of a faint as all his blood rushes somewhere low, he manages to drag in a shaky breath, and nods. "Thanks Frey," he rasps after a beat, then flops back onto the grass, cone slipping half the cream off. He'll manage to gather himself enough, once he's finished camping, to polish off the melting mess before heading back 'home' to plan out how to accomplish all this.

[FIN]