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[icy_veins]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ERIDANUS SUNGAZER. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 099.23.886.00 *** Archmage has joined 099.23.886.00 <Archmage> Hello, this is Eridanus Sungazer. <Archmage> In the event I am currently unavailable, please leave a message. <Archmage> I will answer back, promptly. If I feel you are worth the trouble.

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[chemoscion]

[ Like the heated breath of a lover against his throat, the question washes excitement down Lucius' spine. Beneath the cloth of his shirt—for there would be no honor in meeting an unarmored opponent in anything more—the fur decorating his skin stands on end; the cage of his fangs parts where a rictus grin had pulled it taut, and his tongue lolls free to lick the air with an eager hunger.

He recalls what it had been like—but that had only been seen secondhand, and now, the thought of finding himself overwhelmed by his lover's bestial strength tightens his muscles with shuddering desire. It's a question answered first with laughter, his paired blades twirling restless patterns through the air at his sides. ]

I was going to say I could teach you, the way you have so graciously taught me. [ His grin pulls the muscles of his face taut once more, but even so, the heated gaze that meets Eridanus' swims with his lust still. It's a fair joke, that a marine's style better suits Eridanus in kind, but...

Lucius' weight shifts, falling onto his back foot, and the falchion in his off-hand raises in the air between them. ]

Here. Maybe this would look better in your hand.

[ It isn't a heavy blade, made for graceful slicing movement above all, but it is what had suited Lucius for the last ten millennia or so. ]

[icy_veins]

[Exertion rises and falls his chest with panting breaths, Eridanus' verdant gaze settled upon Lucius unblinking, watching him with a predator's interest as the offer remains hanging in the air. He's known his lover long enough now to recognize when something has caught his attention—the way his tail flicks, the way his pupils tighten into umbral slits, the way his arms strain with barely contained excitement, and of course, the way his serpentine tongue lolls past his lips like some scenting organ. All of it shivers through his skin, whipping his own tufted tail through the air with a hound's eagerness to please.

And then, his master's answer comes, and before words have even formed in his mind to respond, Eridanus' tip-toing steps carry him forward. That space that Lucius had put between them is shortened in just two long strides, stopping just shy enough that when Eridanus looks down upon his consort, he would be able to feel the heat of each excited pant that left his own, parted lips.]

You would allow me to use your falchion? [He asks, the question redundant as he raises his left hand—still clutching his dagger—and offers the off-handed weapon in return.] I am greatly honored.