prismatica | fifth ☕✨ tinder / moonlacing mingle!

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fifth ☕✨ tinder / moonlacing mingle!

( Ping! Your profile needs updating, there's hot singles in your area, it's a swipe frenzy— you all know the push updates with dating apps, right? Maybe you need to brush up your Chroma to buy a place in Amegahara and it just sounds like it's worth a shot, or someone gets ahold of your device and "helps" you along. Upload some new selfies with that new Moonblessing of yours, drop in an About Me, and get to swiping!

And Please— someone please come up with a better name than Prismates because the moons alone make sure we're more than just mammals and no one's obligated to do it like they do on the Discovery Channel. We all know the drill by now, don't we? Swipe right or left, yes or no, mark yourself down to moonlace and flirt or just rile a friend up with a big red X— try to include an opening message! Happy Hump Day? )

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not, 26 (Iris)

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<tr><td><div align="left"><b><big>FIRST LAST, AGE (Sanguis/Cordis/Iris)</big></b></div></td></tr>

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YES

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Now you know what you've got to look forward to. Shit like that, forever.

[He. Is. Going to say he loves him back, obviously, it just. He has to charge it up, it takes a minute. That's just how it works.]

...Love you too, fussyfangs.

[And he does mean it, softly as he says it. Gentle as he bumps their foreheads together again.]

Do you want to come back to my place tonight? Trevor finished the Belmont stuff that we think will help your wounds. If you want to try it.

And you calling me fussyfangs forever, evidently.

[But he does like it. The nicknames are nice, make it feel real. Adrian closes his eyes for a moment, content in just savoring this.]

It's done? [He'll have to thank Trevor. Maybe when neither of them are affected by the moons, so it feels more... honest? Hm.] Yes. I'd like to try and see if it helps.

Nah. Just until I could figure out if it got a rise out of you or not.

[Or possibly forever. He's been surreptitiously trying different pet names lately, looking for the one that fits best in his mouth. Something as easy as Jojo sounds rolling off Adrian's tongue. Something that will make Adrian feel just as good hearing it as he does when it's him.]

Yeah. I didn't ask what went into making it. Pretty sure I don't want to know what went into making it. But I guess you just sort of put it on and then let it dry, so. Like mud, or something.

Well. That's not very attractive sounding, but I suppose if it's you putting it on me, I'll accept that.

[He tips his head, nuzzling Jotaro's temple.] Shall we?

Gee. Good thing you're cute enough to make even mud look attractive.

[The nuzzle gets a soft laugh out of him, as he angles his chin to better allow it, and gives Adrian's hand in his own a squeeze.]

Though I'm definitely taking pictures and posting them on your internet profile. Fair's fair.

[He says, as he starts to walk them toward his apartment.]

I suppose that's a compliment.

[The squeeze is returned with a low chuckle.]

Only if I pose sensually. Then how comfortable would you feel posting them, hm?

[AUGH. There he goes, turning red.]

Uh.

[He coughs, feebly.]

I dunno, I think I'd, uh. Probably have to see what it looked like, first.

[He swallows.]

Maybe you can show me.

[It's so darling when he can make Jotaro blush. He smiles coyly to him, leaning in quick to peck to the cheek, chuckling.]

I would be glad to show you what I had in mind.

So what were Trevor's instructions? Slather it on, pray under a full moon? Suppose it depends on which one.

I think you have to dance to one of those stupid boy band songs. Actually, yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what he said. The dancing isn't optional.

[Look, if the delivery system is in a *BTSB mug then he's going to milk this for all it's worth.]

Guess you'll just have to jump around and shake your ass before all that sensual posing you're going to be doing.

Hm. All right.

But what the hell is a boy band?

Do they have any kind of music in Wallachia that makes girls scream their heads off and completely lose their shit over the guys playing it?

[He shrugs, tugging him toward the walkway that leads up to his front door.]

That's a boy band.

I suppose there were some performers and bards that would achieve such a reaction. They often were in taverns and the like with their lewd songs.

[By now, his ice cream is finished as they approach the apartment. The more concerning thing is Adrian having the mental image of himself dancing to shitty bar tunes.]

I can't believe you just used the word "lewd".

[He's going slower on his own ice cream, but he manages to finish it off and lick the remaining drips off his fingers before digging in his pocket for his keys to let them inside.]

Actually, the only thing he really said is that it'll work better if you let it chip off instead of washing it off. I guess to let it sit longer and draw out the...fuck, what did he call it. Chrism? Something like that.

Lewd. Dirty. Sexual. Take your pick.

[He pauses, then sighs and nods. Of course he couldn't wash it off, that'd be too easy, wouldn't it?]

...I suppose it would make sense. It was indeed a Belmont weapon, after all.

You're such a prissy bastard.

[His hand moves lightly to rest against the small of Adrian's back as he guides them inside, gentle but possessive. Once they're in, he tosses his keys onto the table just inside the door and leaves Star to lock up behind him while he goes to fetch the hideous bone gunk concoction.]

...Yeah, he, um. Explained how the thing works. I figured that's probably the last thing you really want to know, but — I guess knowing helps with figuring out how to fix what it did.

[He's shuffling around in the kitchen, now.]

Which do you want to do first, arms or legs?

No. I should know how it works. ...I should have been more careful, anyway.

[Too eager to trust. Too damned quick, too lonely. But he won't have to worry about that if he stays by Jotaro's side.]

Arms. [Slowly, he works to peel off his shirt.] Suppose you can have your shirt back now.

Keep it awhile. I don't care if it gets messed up, and it'll be soft.

[When he makes his return, it's with a hideous *BTSB mug in hand with cellophane stretched over the top, and some sort of hideous grayed muck on the inside. But at least he's efficient about getting the thing open, and from his pocket he produces a disposable spoon, which will hopefully make it a little easier to apply the gunk without entirely fucking up his hands.]

I don't know if this is going to hurt or not, so...let's do a little to start, and see what happens.

[Carefully, he takes Adrian's hand by the wrist and turns it palm-up, exposing the red scarring where the silver cuffs had sat against his skin. Briskly, he dips a bit of the muck into his spoon and brings it to the soreness, tipping it onto the skin and lightly spreading it around with the curved back of the spoon.]

...All right.

[Instead of throwing off the shirt, he winds it in his hands, as if the material will bring him comfort somehow. He waits, watching Jotaro, then winces a little as the cream presses onto his skin.]

Burns a bit. But not agonizingly.

Hold on to my shoulder, if — y'know.

[It's sort of ridiculous, he realizes, as soon as it's out of his mouth. A shoulder to hold on to? But then — that sort of thing isn't really about the shoulder itself, is it. It's about the reassurance that someone is there at all.

He spreads an even layer of the muck, not too thin but not too thick, and waits.

And then it hits him.]

Wait. You mean this shit is actually doing something?

You didn't expect it to?

[Adrian lets out an amused chuckle.]

...Were it anyone else, I'd have been skeptical. My family believed in science, true, but there are remedies out there that work for a reason. A haggard old woman with chicken blood is worth nothing, but Trevor's family mostly had useful knowledge at their disposal.

[There's a pause, then he adds softly:] I tried to antagonize him once about it. As if his family was practicing witchcraft. But that isn't exactly what it is. Witchcraft either implies a contract with a demon or some idiot who thinks shaking a bag of rice during a drought would make it rain. It's neither.

I mean. The main ingredient is skull, so. Yeah, I was a little skeptical.

[He lets the paste sit, then sort of taps at it with the edge of the spoon to test whether it's hardening the way it's supposed to.]

I guess it makes sense that supernatural afflictions would take supernatural remedies. That's what the Belmonts were good at, right? They were as close as you could get to being an expert on the supernatural without being supernatural themselves.

Can't say that I blame you. If this was a remedy for a mortal man, I would be much more dubious.

[The paste seems to be hardening as expected, the spoon tapping noisily. Adrian, for his part, seems thoughtful, then sighs before he lets out a wry laugh.]

A disappointing thing, how neither of our families could do anything to help our country, much less each other. How indispensable a doctor for the supernatural would be.

Less hunters and more doctors. Yeah. Maybe the world would be a better place, then.

[He finishes his poking, then carefully recovers the mug with the rest of the goop so as not to risk it drying out in the meantime.]

You're supposed to leave this on awhile, but if you want, we can take it off now and see if it helped any. Or when it stops stinging, maybe.

I suppose that's just a general, naive wish, isn't it.

[There's a shake of Adrian's head.]

We should leave it for now if those were his instructions. ...I don't want to leave this to chance if we're too hasty.

Thank you for doing this, Jojo.

...Well. I dunno about that. It has to start somewhere, right? One person deciding to be different.

[He gives Adrian's hand a light squeeze.]

I mean. It's mostly Trevor, I guess. Probably oughta do something for the guy, if it turns out this really does work.

[And he glances up, his eyes softening.]

I just want you to be okay. That's what matters to me.

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