♔ call me out

[riku]

CALL ME OUT.

Welcome to Whose Turn Is It Anyway, where the rules are made up and the timestamps don't matter. If you want to start a private PSL, do some voice testing, or whatever the hell you want-- you're in the right place.

Here's my muselist. Pretty much everyone on there is fair game. Ask for a character, or maybe take yourself over to the megameme if you don't have any ideas. There are no expiration dates. If you drop something and pick it up eight months later, I will tag you back.

Go forth. Have fun.

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[shamanism]

[It's not fancy or showy, which only makes it more interesting. Thrall's ears perk up. He can barely detect any change, though as a healer, he has some sensitivity to a body's state.]

Fascinating.

[He holds his hands out just to be sure. After a moment, he lowers them again.]

Is all magic from your world that way?

[gordianknots]

Not at all. More skilled magi than I do have more flare. I'm...technically not considered very powerful, all things considered.

[shamanism]

Zuggossh. [The inflection translates that for Waver. Probably 'bullshit'.] You have silence spells and wards and enchantments I could not dream of.

[gordianknots]

True enough, but magic's about inheritance. Longer lines have more powerful magi. I'm only the third in my family--

[shamanism]

Perhaps on your world, it is.

[He leans in a little, smiling.]

But you could solidly beat me in a battle of magic or wits any day. You are more than your bloodline, my friend.

[gordianknots]

Wits, yes, magic, I think we'd be fairly matched. But you'd win if it was just physical!

[Waver smiles, and starts to stand up. He definitely hasn't accounted for how close Thrall is, and he brushes against him--]

Ah, shit, sorry--

[shamanism]

Hahah, well--

[His laughter cuts off as Waver brushes against him. Instinctively, Thrall reaches out to steady Waver. He feels... strangely dizzy as he does so. Not so much that he'll lose balance, but it's strange to feel his pulse in his forehead, his heartbeat in his ears. His hands, gentle and large as they are, rest on the smaller man's sides.]

... Are you all right?

[Cheeks flushed, heart racing-- just what is wrong with him? He tries to focus on Waver, which makes his gaze perhaps a little more intense than it ought to be.]

[gordianknots]

Yeah, yeah.

[Really, the last time that hands that big were anywhere near Waver, it was Rider picking up Waver like a scruffed kitten. Thrall's hands are definitely the right size, although far more green. Gingerly, Waver moves his hands atop Thrall's, and pats them both gently.]

Are you sure you are though? You're not exactly behaving erratically, but something seems a bit off. None of those weird plants got you?

[shamanism]

[The patting draws him out of his daze, but only slightly.]

Something is off, but I do not know what. I already told you the symptoms. Perhaps something about the stormy sea is disagreeing with me.

[He feels very warm, all things considered. Not hot, but warm. The corner of his mouth slants upward. It isn't much of a stretch to tug Waver into a hug.

What Thrall isn't expecting from himself, though, is the soft brushing of lips that follows.]

[gordianknots]

[Well that was unexpected.

Waver doesn't move, not really. He's far more adept at being a deer in the headlights when a touch is this seemingly out of no where.

Except, now that he thinks about it, it isn't out of no where. Thrall's been blushing and warm for the duration of well, for about the same amount of time that Waver's leg has been bothering him.

After a little surprised squeak escapes, Waver pulls away. Not fast and panicked, admittedly, but to make sure he can talk.]

Is that how you express the sea disagreeing with you?

[shamanism]

[Thrall realizes what he did maybe a second too late. He lets go of Waver, perhaps a bit rudely, but more like he's afraid he'll hurt the poor man.]

Blessed ancestors! I-- I do not know what came over me--

[He covers his mouth for a moment.]

Forgive me. That was exceedingly rude. Not that you are unattractive, but I think you are, ah, preoccupied and perhaps claimed and-- I should be quiet.

[gordianknots]

[Perhaps not to either's surprise, Waver's face is bright red, red as his coat, and his first instinct is to hide that blush. Not exactly a mature response, he should have stopped doing that ages ago, but Waver's gut instinct in the romantic gesture department has never really gotten past the teenage boy designation]

S'fine, s'fine. More unexpected than rude just--

[Oh God, how does he even respond to this, aside from going even redder in the face.]

Let's both be quiet and maybe the awkward'll pass.

[shamanism]

[Thrall is quiet, then, and a good thirty seconds pass as he continues to grow darker and darker in the face.]

... This is still awkward.

[gordianknots]

--More or less awkward if I note I wouldn't be opposed if it happened again?

[shamanism]

[He blinks once, twice, and almost asks Waver to say that again because it is definitely not what he's expecting to hear.]

But-- but I am an orc, [he says slowly.] You possess gentle features, and I... decidedly do not.

[gordianknots]

I've trucked with friends about your size, you know.

[shamanism]

[Oh goodness.]

I-- but... I am not human. I mean, I do not have a problem with it, obviously, but on my world many people would. If you care about your reputation, I understand--

[gordianknots]

--Everyone's convinced I fucked a tree, Thrall.

[shamanism]

I see your point.

[A glance downward, at his hands.]

... I would not mind another.

[gordianknots]

It's...a very strange one to have to make, but.

[It always comes back to the tree, doesn't it.]

Then I guess lift your head up, huh? Weird angle for me otherwise.

[shamanism]

[To be fair, Thrall is a bit of a tree hugger.]

Er, um, yes. Sorry.

[He lifts his chin as asked, and leans forward to kiss him again-- carefully, of course, so that tusks don't end up in Waver's face. There's an element of shyness to it.]

[gordianknots]

[Those tusks could probably take out an eyeball.

But Waver's careful too, angling his head just right so that his lips are against Thrall's and no head tilt with result in a sharp poke.]