Your Father says 'Hello'. (Kovei + Baneare)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Kovei on 05-07-2014, 08:27:04</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Your Father says 'Hello'. (Kovei + Baneare)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kovei</strong> on <strong>05-07-2014, 08:27:04</strong>
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				<em>"I've had it! I- I just can't do this, dad!"</em><br><br><em>"What're you on about now?", replied a partially hazy voice, with an underlining tone of annoyance. "Again, more less! Going to threaten to move out again, hm?"</em><br><br><em>"Don't mock me! Mom's gone, I don't have a damn reason to stay anymore you old shit!" The first's voice held near unadulterated anger with every hastily-spat syllable, with a flashing image of a shaking fist.</em><br><br><em>"If you think you're leaving -my house-, then you have another thing coming. You're not even eighteen, and you think you can make it on your own!"</em><br><br><em>"You wouldn't do anything, you care for your personal image too much!-"</em><br><br>"I can, and I would." A third, rather irritated voice pierced the daydream, with an immediate response of bone coming into harsh contact with an opposing, solid surface.<br><br>"Fuck...", groaned the first voice, with no further sign of the second.<br><br>A cream colored hand parted the boundary between the polished oak surface of a work desk, and the forehead that decided to pay said surface an u timely visit. This hand gradually worked in prying from the oak, the forehead, softly caressing the contact area with proceeding soft hisses and 'ahh's of recently inflicted pain. Guiding the forehead to an upright position, said hand made to stroke along the slight curve of the attached nose, whilst arching at the palm to glide over the adjacent hazel eyes and the proceeding cheeks, ending with an unceremonious groan from the parting soft, pink lips of this man's rounded face. <br><br>The face in question, attached to the injured forehead, connected down to a near-hairless cheat covered by a clean white work shirt, buttoned along the front. Following the fabric, tucked into matching black work pants, a similar black belt tied at the waist, and ending with recently-polished dress shoes.<br><br>"Well?" A chubby man stood beside the younger worker, holding a clipboard to his chest while donning a similar uniform, though having a few more sizes added in order to fit his beer belly's girth. "You were supposed to have the assignment done today, and here I catch you, starin' blankly at the monitor." The fabric in his clothing wrinkled and shifted as he leaned forward, staring at the monitor that presented only the blank and dull Windows XP, without even a single window open. "You're slaking, Derrick-"<br><br>"Leave me alone, Miles. And that isn't what you said, I had a week!" Derrick grumbled, turning in his revolving chair to face Miles with an irritated stare. "Besides, it's the end of the damn workweek - Friday." Shaking his head, and standing at a rather rapid pace to his full height of five feet and six inches, he reached to the side and gripped a hold of his briefcase - slamming it close for extra punctuation - before holding the computer's power button, and walking around Miles in a brisk pace.<br><br>"Hey!" Miles shouted, turning to glare after Derrick. "What about the assignment!?"<br><br>"It'll be done by next week, as you wanted it to be!" Derrick didn't bother looking over his shoulder in any manner to reply, weaving his ways through the various cubicles with Miles shouting after him - who's mouth was silenced by the heavy metal doors of a descending elevator, to the bottom floor of the Corporation building.<br><br>Junior's Corp. How fitting that Derrick worked at the bottom of the totem pole, of the same company that skyrocketed his family's wealth. It was a job, a slight step above from a minimum wage, and because of that allowed, he could afford his apartment - surprisingly, only within a half mile's walking distance from his 'career'.<br><br>In little over half an hour, nearing forty minutes, later - well, Derrick found himself at home sweet home. With the sun lowering into the horizon, nearing eight o' clock, the click-clack of his shoes' repeated contact against the wooden stairs of his apartment complex. Holding his briefcase within his mouth by his teeth, he scoured around his left pocket - past his wallet and phone - in an attempt to dig out his apartment's keys. With more thrashing of his hand than patience, he finally pulled free his particular keying with a grin around the black handle of his briefcase. <br><br>Finding the key itself was easy. There were only two on his keyring: the first, was for his apartment room #522, a one bedroom, one bath apartment with about 530 sqft. The second was access to certain file cabinets in his office building, though it didn't particularly aid him any. He found himself constantly reporting to Miles for information that wasn't either on the database, or in the cabinets themselves... And damn it all if Miles didn't absolutely love being as slow as possible about it.<br><br>Yet right now, it wasn't time to think about Miles and his antics. Instead, his comfortable apartment came to mind the moment the key slipped into the lock, turned the tumbler, and pushed open after the turn of a knob. It wasn't even a flash with the speed of Derrick practically diving into the serene safety of his rented home, and slamming the door behind him.<br><br>His apartment opened into a living room, connected to the kitchen without a wall in between. The living room had a smaller sized flatscreen mounted upon a cheap short legged desk in forward-left corner of the room. A couch was a couple yards from the television, having a rather bland green fabric for it's cover, with two adjacent side tables with wooden coasters made of the same material stacked upon them. Four walls surrounding every which-way of the apartment had an equally-bland white color with matching roof, and soft, light-brown shag carpet.<br><br>The kitchen was standard; oven, microwave, refrigerator, sink, dishwasher, top and bottom cabinets, with an almost blinding white color to every nook and cranny if under the right light. Thankfully, the shag broke away to the green-and-black tile flooring for the kitchen and the small rectangular dining 'room', providing a square table and four matching chairs, all made with a oak-like wood.<br><br>Yet, with his home, where did Derrick go to rest? He collapsed more-or-less onto the couch with a flop, arms splaying out as much as they could, scattering both his keys and briefcase, and with his face buried into the armrest, with proceeding groan. His eyes drifted closed, tie untied and thrown onto the couch's paired table, and shirt unbuttoned with&nbsp; his chest pressed into the flat green texture of the couch. Slowly, gradually, he drifted to sl- <br><br><em>Knock knock knock.</em><br><br>"...ugh." Without even prying from his spot on the couch, Derrick craned his neck with his eyes remaining closed, shouting out "IT'S OPEN!", before flopping his face into the couch yet again.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Your Father says 'Hello'. (Kovei + Baneare)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Baneare</strong> on <strong>05-07-2014, 18:34:16</strong>
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				'Such hasty, hasty lives, these humans have, cramming so much life into such a short time,' mused Nienna Eledhwen. The tall woman watched the people around her scurry along their lives, frantically cramming as much experience as they could into their time frames, achieving so much, yet leaving so little behind. She felt it was a wonder that they even managed to drag themselves from the mud they sprang from, let alone stand and build. Their buildings were ugly and severe, with little or no attention to the nature around them...but the people inhabiting them grew and danced like the leaves and trees of her ancient home.<br><br>One of those leaves, a young man shorter than his peers, walked ahead of her. His posture said he was frustrated, unsure of himself, though he was trying desperately not to show it. He was her charge, according to the foolish rules these humans had. 'Less than normal', they had called her when they had found her showering in a public booth a few months ago. Nienna hadn't understood, and really still didn't now. Another prejudice these humans had, causing a spot of trouble for her. The woman hadn't resisted her 'captors' though, as she wanted to find out about the people of this time, how they viewed the world around them. The more it changed, the more it stayed the same...<br><br>Slowly following the hasty youth down the ways, the tall and slender woman moved gracefully along, her long pale pink dress flowing around her ankles as each measured step brought her closer to her new charge and his destiny. Her light blonde hair swirled in the breeze of her passing as her dancer's grace gave her a deceptive speed to her movement, gradually closing the distance as the boy ahead of her neared his residence. He had been pointed out to her by one of the 'captors', and told that she now belonged to him, and would work for him as he directed. She'd simply nodded, knowing that one of her experience could easily slip away from any traps or bindings that they could conjure for her, and began to follow him as he'd left the office building behind.<br><br>Slowly closing the distance, the woman noted the building he'd entered, an apartment complex that wasn't <em>quite</em> as grubby as the ones surrounding it...but only barely. She was only a few moments behind him when he disappeared into the building, but she wasn't worried. She had picked up his heat trail by now, and could follow it to where ever he was in this building. Another trick she had picked up from her kin ages ago, when the world was still wild. 'It still is, just in a different way,' she thought as she made her way into the building, following the now fading heat trail to a closed door on the fifth floor.&nbsp; 'At least he is high enough to catch a breath of clean wind at times.'<br><br>Schooling her features into an ageless neutrality, she double checked her appearance. Dress on? Check. Ears masked? Check. Equipment stored? Check. Knocking firmly, she waited, shortly hearing a "It's Open!" through the door. 'As you wish,' she thought to herself. Cracking the door, she stepped into the apartment, gently closing the door with a soft click. The interior wasn't a dark experience, thankfully, with a faded green couch resting on the brown shag carpet in the midst of a pale while room. She spied a foot hanging over the edge of the furniture, and surmised that her charge was relaxing there. Without moving from the doorway, she continued to scan the small apartment, noting the general disarray, and the focus of the room upon the flat panel in one corner of the living room. Obviously he spent most of his time in this room, and didn't have much company.<br><br>Nienna waited patiently for her charge to get up from the couch and acknowledge her presence. She'd been told over the past few months that her place would be to serve whoever she was pointed out to in every way, and she'd played along with her 'trainers' to convince them that she could do whatever was needed, from cleaning to cooking, reading to writing, holding conversations or simply saying nothing. Right now she needed to see what her charge was like, and what he needed, before she could serve him as he should be served. This should be at least an interesting situation.
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