Amidst the rubble of a war not long past, the stars seek to raise a new generation. Blessed with celestial powers that have begun to make their reappearance, the Gifted are individuals whose shoulders the future of the city rests on. Will you overthrow the dysfunctional government or work to keep it in power? Or will you undermine the whole game and play to your own advantage? No matter your motives, Hyperion is yours to shape.
[attr="class","content"]It was the perfect day for a picnic, the trees of the park occasionally swaying as a cool breeze brushed through their branches. The sky overhead was an eggshell blue, the clouds that littered its landscape reminiscent of cotton balls. Luce sat at a picnic table, dressed in a pale pink sundress and a pair of chunky sandals, her blonde hair hidden beneath a wide-brimmed white hat. Occasionally her feet would squirm, the long blades of grass gently skimming against her skin, tickling her enough that she’d wiggle further, distracted from the manuscript laid out before her.
And yet she would always return her attention to it, occasionally typing out a few notes on her phone or scribbling comments onto the paper’s margins. Though most people knew her by the steamy novels that regularly ranked first and second in erotica listings, she also enjoyed helping fledglings write their own smut. It was something done out of the goodness of her heart, but it was also something she did because she was desperate to extinguish the purple prose that gripped her genre in a vice-like grip.
She had come to the park today specifically to take care of the latter, hoping the nice day might help her through the current novel she was editing.
“Oh, c’mon!” Her voice pitched high in the park, too focused on her work to realize just how loudly her voice carried – though considering it was her, she likely wouldn’t turn the volume down even if she had realized. “’His morning dew dripped upon her furling petals, and she squirmed in anticipation—‘! Honestly, Becka, girl—we’re better than this now.” She leaned closer, scribbling through the words she had read aloud, then drew a line to an empty space in the margins where she proceeded to write in, “We don’t need all these little details. Consider Albert’s ‘Passion Pink’ or my own ‘Slumber Party’; we want broad strokes so readers can fill in the little things themselves.”
She set down her pen and reached for the iced lemonade she’d bought at a small food-cart earlier, catching the straw between pearly pink lips. She sucked at it languidly, her green eyes half-unfocused as she flipped through the manuscript.
She wasn’t really feeling this today; sex was a communication of two bodies (or more), and conversations were typically frank, fast, and fun. Luce slid her tongue out, swiping the tip of the straw for any lingering drops of sweetness then licked her lips, reaching for her pen and tapping it against the table. Well, she thought idly, maybe a demonstration would work for Becka.
“Anything,” she said, “that keeps me from reading another two hundred pages of weeping flowers and pollination. Ugh!”
@tag @tag・454 words some sex refs but nothing outright explicit, deffo pg-13 tho!!
notes: A little short, but didn't want to make any assumptions as to her actions.
A PERFECTLY CONSTRUCTED ALIBI
It had been a long evening the night before at Valhalla, and as such, Lex was just trying to get his mind off of it. He always thought of it as nice that the bar was neutral ground between the organizations, but that rarely seemed to calm down the inevitable tension that existed when they all occupied the same room. Last night was the fifth fight this week he had to break up, and the second that he had to bust out the shotgun. It seemed some of the new blood within the organizations had yet to understand the importance of neutrality, and he had already got onto Doc Cruz about a tighter leash on his pups.
But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for relaxation, and he couldn’t think of a better place than the park. He made his way around, chewing on a cinnamon toothpick that he would occasionally light the end of so he could eat the flame. The smell of the wood singeing and the warmth of the heat flowing into him relaxed him, complementing the nice summer breeze and nice sounds of people walking around. Occasionally he would pull out his little notebook and jot down observances, things he saw people doing, ideas that came to mind. Writing was cathartic for him, and his little journal was one of many he worked on filling over the years.
It was then that the high pitched voice caught his ears. Looking about he heard the fairly loud conversation the woman was having with herself. At least Lex assumed it was herself, seeing no company near her, and many people making their way awkwardly away from her as she went into her mini-tirade. He wandered closer, his curiosity peaked, and wondered what she could be working on that could have possibly thrown her into this much of a tizzy.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked, pointing to the spot opposite of the girl, a tired smile upon his face. “Not trying to intrude, just a little curious as to what you’re working on.” Seeing the papers, he would motion towards them. “Is that a paper? Mind if I take a look?”
[attr="class","content"]Luce was so utterly absorbed in her own world that it took a moment for her to realize that she was no longer alone. The man appeared before her suddenly, and she found herself leaping up, her mouth forming a perfect Oh! as he asked if the seat across from her was taken. She blinked back up at him, thick, black lashes fluttering down briefly over green eyes that swam between emerald and jade.
Her gaze was met with a man, dressed casually as most people were when visiting the park; he was fetchingly tall, with vibrant red hair and green eyes that rivaled her own. The smile he offered her was pleasant enough, a weariness etched into the lines of his face that eased any suspicions she may have had.
Not that she was the type to be suspicious. That wasn’t her nature.
Instead, her own face broke into a bright smile, pink lips curling away from her pearly-white teeth. “Of course not,” she chirped. She giggled at his next words, her smile stretching wider. “How could you be intruding in a public park? Please, sit!”
Luce gestured eagerly and, as he arranged himself, took the time to catch hold of her lemonade, her mouth chasing down the straw and catching it – she took a small sip of her lemonade, sighing happily, and added, “It isn’t anything interesting. A super cute girl I know is trying to break into the scene, and, like, since I’m kind of a big fish,” and her smile shrunk, becoming more bashful, “I told her I’d look over the manuscript for her.”
She offered him the stack of papers, adding, “I’m having a bit of trouble getting through it—I’ve never been fond of plant symbolism, and Becka’s so sweet but…” She paused, bit her lip, and finally relented, “Well, she just really likes referring to stuff with that flowery language.” Luce stuck out her tongue briefly for added emphasis and giggled again.
The cover sheet read triumphantly Her Blossoming Rose, with the author’s name beneath. Within the bulk of the manuscript, Luce’s telltale scribbles could be seen everywhere there was a smut scene – and being erotica authors, the story was fit to burst with them. Luce, on her part, seemed to find absolutely nothing wrong with handing a strange man a story littered with explicit sex scenes. She seemed almost downright joyful, to be conversing with someone instead of editing the thick text.
“My name is Luce, by the way.” She threw out the words almost as an afterthought.
Lex Mihairoko ・425 words lol that's cool! feel free to make up the story contents if lex decides to flip thru it
“Thank you,” he started, chuckling at her forwardness towards allowing him to join her. He took his seat opposite, brushing off the bench a bit before resting. He smiled at the warmth she seemed to give, and chucked a bit at her first words. “Well big fish, what scene would that be?” He reached and took the outstretched stack of papers that she held, chuckling a bit at her story of plant symbolism. “Oh? And what is wrong with that…” his voice would trail off a bit as he began to soak in the story that lay before him. Regardless of the comments and various edits that lay about, he began to realize just what kind of story lay within his hands.
Eyes growing a little wide, his face reflected the small shock that he felt, holding such a vibrant and obvious display of man’s more primal desires. “Oh. Oh, uh, hmmm.” He began trying to form thoughts as he felt himself unable to look away or stop reading. References of ova and stigmata, references of fruits and vegetables, petals and stems, double and triple entendre abound within its margins. He scratched the side of his face as he searched for words to describe his thoughts.
“I mean, I don’t know if I could have any feedback for this. Personally, I’m more of a person who likes to write from experiences, but I don’t know if I have the confidence to tackle this sort of subject matter personally.” He chuckled a bit, not necessarily nervously, but rather finding amusement in his own awkwardness. “I’m Lex by the way, Lex Mihairoko. I co-own a bar over in District Four.” He would hold out his hand, the metal on his bracelets giving off a faint ringing as he went to shake her hand.
As he finished, he would rub his face, handing back the manuscript. “I think the most I could give would be grammar advice personally, but if you would grace me with your story, what made you get into this sort of business, Ms. Big Fish? I like to sort of collect people’s stories.” As he said this, he would pull out a pen and a small black notebook, opening it up to a blank page and clicking his pen, making motions as to write down her answer.
[attr="class","content"]“Erotic literature, of course!”
She smiled at him as he took the script, tapping a finger against the plastic cup her lemonade was encased in before dragging it slowly down the side, cutting through the moisture that had collected on its skin. Looking pleased with how clear her line was, Luce proceeded to turn the cup, before placing her finger down against an unmarked spot, drawing out a cutesy butterfly, scribbled like it had been drawn by a five-year-old.
“I’m normally number one or two on Amazon’s weekly listings, and a few of my books are considered—." Here she paused, not so much out of bashfulness as just a desire to effectively communicate just how important her stories had been in pioneering a new dawning of smut.
“Well, they’re very well-regarded. No one had ever really been able to tap into the commercial popularity of cybernetic cowboys, but, like—c’mon, imagine those hydraulics.” She sighed for added emphasis, her eyelashes fluttering, though she topped the expression off with a sneaky grin, an implication that she wasn’t entirely serious in her adoration. Honestly, robotic cowboys were so three months ago; her editor had been pushing her to find the next big thing, and while she had some ideas, she didn’t think any of them would quite reach the heights of her big breakout series.
But I won’t let myself be just another flash in the pan.
Still, his obvious discomfort with the reading material was enough to distract her from her unpleasant thoughts, earning him another giggle. “Oh, I’m sure your own work would be brilliant,” she enthused. “Honestly, some of the best stuff I’ve seen have come from virgins. Uh, smut virgins, I mean! Smut babies? Oh, that didn’t come out right; I’m sorry.”
She dipped her head apologetically, a slight flush heating her cheeks from the potential offense she’d caused. In her time writing she’d come across all sorts of characters, and while she knew some would allow that sort of comment to roll off their back, others were considerably touchier. Personally, she didn’t understand the fuss over it, but she wasn’t going to argue with someone over their hang-ups.
Luce was glad for the change in topic, flashing him a relieved smile even as she reached out to shake his hand energetically, making his bangles rattle harder. “Lex!” she chirped out. “Oh, man, you must have so many stories, running a bar.” She withdrew her hand with a small laugh, reaching up to run it through her hair. “Personally, I’m not great with alcohol.”
She didn’t expand on her words, instead clapping her hands together with a jovial smile as he withdrew his notebook and pen. “Ooh! A story for a story, then?” Perhaps one of his own tales would help spark some inspiration.
“As for why I got into this…” She tapped at her mouth with a single finger, tilting her head to the side. “Isn’t it just because it’s fun?” She grinned at him. “I had a talent for writing, and for a lot of people, sex is a big deal. It’s porn for the brain, and unlike porn you can indulge in it anywhere. It’s fun to hear how much people enjoyed it.”
Lex Mihairoko ・539 words soz for the slow reply, was sick earlier ;;
He audibly laughed very audibly at the woman’s virgin comment, actually crying a tiny bit as his laugh echoed throughout the park, drawing a few gazes before they turned away. Wiping a single tear from his eye and flicking it off into the air, he calmed himself down enough to respond. “I’m glad that you think so highly of me,” he said, probably reading in a little too deep to the woman’s virgin comment. It helped that the thought of cyborg cowboys was humorous to him, especially considering the implications.
He nodded his head as she seemed inticed by the stories he could give from his bar. A soft chuckle eased its way, almost as a tired sigh as the soreness in his muscles came back simply remembering many of the stories. “You’d be surprised. A lot of gifted people tend to come in. Sometimes things get destroyed, sometimes other weird things happen, but in the end they always turn into good stories.”
He seemed curious before smiling at the idea of the woman to exchange stories, his face relaxing a little bit before easing back into a smile. “Sure, a story for a story seems like a fair trade. Just know I save some of them for more private ears, so you might have to come by to hear the really good ones.” He winks at her, remembering the countless times the Doc had tried to get him drunk over the years after hours just to hear some of the dumber stories from the week. It was a pleasant memory, and brought a warm smile to his face.
He felt a growling from within, his hunger building a little bit. Realizing it wasn’t his stomach, he held up a hand to the girl. “Excuse me for a moment.” He pulled out a cheap packet of bar matches, striking one and lighting the rest on fire. Letting them burn for a moment, getting a nice large flame going behind his hand, he eyed them before gently opening his mouth. A strange but faint sound emerged as the fire and its energy was sucked in and absorbed within his person, a faint spark visible behind his eyes for a moment before fading back down to their normal color.
Finishing, he gave off a small burp, the matchsticks reduced to a small pile of ash. Brushing it off into the wind, he picked back up his pen and wrote down the brief description the girl had for her reasoning for her occupation. He could understand it enough, the industry being a fairly lucrative business, and could empathize with her desire to write it. He found it intriguing however that she said she did it to see people enjoy it, and had not actually prepared himself mentally for such an answer. To be quite honest, he didn’t even consider it a possibility before he heard it come out of her mouth.
“Interesting, I didn’t know people wrote smut because they want other people to enjoy it. I suppose that’s a new one for me.” He laughed at the end, rubbing the back of his head. Setting down the pen in the folds of the journal as to mark his space, he would stretch. “I suppose since you told me yours, i tell you mine now, huh? I got into the bartending business solely out of luck, and a lack of desire to do much else. I’ve always been fairly bright, been able to read people and situations well, but since the whole conflict that happened a while back, I just wanted as calm a life as I could get. So I found a partner and opened a bar. I suppose I didn’t quite expect to be in as much excitement on a weekly basis as I got. I suppose the universe works in weird ways, always wanting us in its own little path.”
[attr="class","content"]Luce blushed against at his comment, still obviously embarrassed to have phrased it so terribly. She grinned back at him as the implications sunk in, though. “Perhaps you could show me your skills sometime,” she answered, then giggled again.
She leaned forward against the table, placing her arms on the rough wood, watching him with an open expression. The soft sigh that eased out of him instantly caught her attention, and she flashed a worried look, her lips tugging down into an uncertain frown.
Before she could speak, however, his mention of gifted people made her blink, her eyes widening.
“You know Gifted?” she asked carefully. The wars of fifteen years ago had divided the consensus on powered users. While many believed it was the person and not the power who did evil, it was too easy for others to argue that these greater abilities were naturally corrupting. She had even seen, in some of her various forays on the internet, mentions of demonic gifts, dark pacts, unholy beings that would be condemned to an afterlife of pain and misery.
It was enough for her to tread lightly, though her own power didn’t easily show itself, nor could it be quickly connected back to her.
Still, he seemed unconcerned with the topic, easily switching over to her idea of story-swapping; she flashed him a quick smile back, even as one hand came up to tug at one of her long side bangs, threading through the silky hair.
“You sound like you just want to get me drunk.”
Not that she minded – he was an attractive enough man, and a bit of fun was a simple exchange for interesting stories. She was about to add more, maybe push him a bit further, try to fluster him with a bold overture, but he suddenly held up his hand, and she watched, bemused, as he withdrew an entire pack of matches and lit them on fire.
“What are you—“ she began, but her voice quickly died away as something happened, a rippling, warping sort of wrongness that had her head snapping around as she looked at their surroundings. No one was looking back at her, and her gaze flew back to him.
Don’t do that! she wanted to scream at him. It took all her willpower to sit there, her arms returning to her side so she could tuck her hands below the park bench, her hands fisting in the fabric of her dress as she tried to keep calm.
Even if no one said anything, there were always people watching. That was something she knew from the internet; no one would say anything to your face, but online their true feelings and thoughts came out – and she knew Hyperion was not a safe place. People watched and noticed and remembered. And worse, they gathered like-minded individuals, posting behind cutesy screen names, chatting in password-gated chatrooms.
She breathed out, and once more a hand rose to fiddle with her hair, fingers nervously twisting and separating the strands.
“Yes,” she agreed softly, “it’d be nice if we could all live a calm life after what happened.” Her mind was working quickly now, trying to find a way to remove him from the public eye – Away, she thought.
“Maybe us meeting was destined as well,” she said at last, offering him another smile. “The universe decided we’d meet in this park, at this time. And maybe,” she added, “it’d like us to move to somewhere… a little more private?” She flashed him another smile, tilting her head.
Her earlier words sunk in now to his mind, now that the roaring of his hunger had subsided. With a light chuckle, he responded in a similar manner, “Perhaps I could sometime.” He felt interesting, having this connection with someone. It was wasn’t very like him to pursue such things, but he supposed if this is where things seemed to be going, he would let the universe work its way. It was then that he noticed his display had caused the woman some worry. Such was her prerogative after all. He forgot sometimes that this wasn’t the comforting confines of his bar, and that he needed to mask his uses by making it seem like he’s smoking or something.
He winced at the obvious discomfort he had caused to the situation, and quickly but discretely tried to dispose of the remains of the matches, without trying to draw too much attention to them. “Yeah, yeah, somewhere more private sounds nice. Sorry again about that.” He was visibly embarrassed at this point, partially that he had allowed his hunger to get the better of his logic, but more-so that he had now put Luce into this sort of situation. “Got anywhere specific in mind?”
Getting up to stretch, he tried to continue their conversation in a bit more confined manner of tone. “I know a few people, I like my place of work to feel homely and accepting to all people, regardless. I like to believe in the best of people, and that eventually that whole conflict might be put behind us. I’m more of a lover than a fighter Mrs. Top Author.” His final words of the sentence would be said playfully, with a cheeky side grin shot in her direction as he put the smoldering toothpick back to his lips. “This world could use a little more positivity and love in my book.”
Walking to follow her direction, wherever it led, he would crack another playful jab at her, accenting his words with a wink. “And as for trying to get you drunk, I think I would prefer you cognizant. I would rather test your knowledge of your craft, than just have you blacked out,”
[attr="class","content"]She smiled at him when he so readily agreed to go with her. Luce was quick to gather up her items, carefully folding up the manuscript and tucking it away into the purse that had sat beside her on the bench, hidden from view until she now pulled it up. It was a small, ivory hobo bag, obviously meant to act more as a carrying case than as a true fashion accessory. It still worked well enough with her outfit, of course – she was just the type to naturally pair good combinations together – but looking attractive hadn’t been her goal in picking it out.
As for the lemonade, she held up a single finger to him, in the universal sign of “one moment”, breaking into a short trot as she located a recycling bin, depositing her trash within it; she wasn’t one for littering, and the plastic could easily be reused.
Green energy was good energy, and good energy was something the world required much as a man required food or water.
She accepted his apology gracefully enough, flashing him a quick smile even as her eyes darted down to the phone she pulled from her purse, swiping her finger over the print reader and unlocking it; she quickly scanned its surface, then tossed it back in her purse.
“No harm done,” she said. “How about we head to my place? I think it might rain soon.”
And whereas before there had been clear skies, there were now dark clouds gathering, crowding over the park as if to hide it from watching eyes. The few other occupants that were nearby were already quickly packing up their own items; Luce watched them with a surprisingly amount of restraint, a pensive look plastered to her features for a brief moment.
Then she tossed Lex another smile, looking slightly overwhelmed, and turned away from the picnic table they’d found themselves at.
“It’s only about a block from here. We’ll get there before it starts pouring.” And really, how could she be so sure? The smile that still tugged at the corners of her lips had soured into a bittersweet irony, as if she found the taste of her predicament tart but not entirely unpleasant. “I bet someone like you doesn’t appreciate rain.”
Still, she seemed to appreciate his good cheer, and her own somewhat dour expression was quickly swapped for a sunny grin, now totally at odds with the clouds that were quickly blotting out the sunlight. “I completely agree. Hence my profession.”
Her mouth curled wider, more Cheshire than girl, at the sight of his wink. “Don’t think I’m bringing you back home just so you can test me; I’d like to study a bit before my final exam.”
And, really, the use of home was something of a misnomer. The truth of the matter was that she lived primarily in District 7, but she had a small studio apartment in District 1 both for business and late-night benders. And scenery-changes – it was a writing thing; sometimes the only change required to jumpstart her writing juices was a different backdrop. But she wasn’t about to explain that to him – let him think she lived in a cramped little apartment in a district known for its absurdly high rental fees.
Lex smiled at the woman as she returned his gestures. He found her offer of her place as a little bit of a cliché given the weather, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Sounds like a plan, your majesty. Please, lead the way, if you would be so kind.” He gestured with an over-the-top bow before following Luce on her path to her place, laughing at her response to his jab. “Well I suppose that would only be fair.”
With a light chuckle he glanced up at the sky. He wasn’t too shocked by the weather, their proximity to the ocean caused storms to appear almost constantly, and it didn’t seem super out of the normal, but he found her comment strange about his preference upon weather. “Actually, I kind of like the rain. I like a lot of aspects when nature shows its power actually. There’s something refreshing and calm about the rain, and I find the rhythm of it against things like glass soothing. To be fully honest, I enjoy the feeling that nature’s wrath brings about, that you feel small compared to its power.”
Following behind her, the storm finally began to pick up and begin sprinkling when they approached her place. Following her up, he made his way into the tiny space, trying not to get anything wet. As he took his shoes off at the entrance, he looked around. It was a small studio space, but seemed homely, especially when compared mentally to his own bachelor pad back in District 4. From where he was, a small kitchen and living area was visible, with a few doors leading off to other rooms. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, trying to maintain some sort of manners. He took a few steps in, trying to make sure he wasn’t wet and dripping on anything. With a joking tone, he spoke up as he walked over to inspect a bookcase. “So, how long am I welcome before you kick me out?”
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