After being informed by my faithful butler Raymond that my ultimate goal (which is to sleep with every single person in whatever the hell the country I live in is), quite a difficult feat, would be made easier if I were to meet people over the internet so I can hack into their personal information and find out where they live I agreed with his theory and here I am now.
la introduction.
I am Jean Descole an artistic man of science(IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!) I am a very experienced whore archeologist and inventor and a french gentleman. And when I say gentleman I do not mean the mockery (that I shat my pants! :D) that batard Layton put on the word, I am a real gentleman.
I would write more but I am currently rather...indisposed.
I look forward tovous vissage becoming acquainted ~♥
la introduction.
I am Jean Descole an artistic man of science
I would write more but I am currently rather...indisposed.
I look forward to
- Current Location:your pants
- Current Mood:
horny - Current Music:plug in your USB and you can do me
Comments
Layton seems to be attempting to ignore Descole, looking as if he's trying desperately to wish himself out of the situation. This hurts Descole, but he shows it with an irritated "What, pretending you aren't enjoying this? I think otherwise. Your body betrays you. But-" He draws in an anguished breath. "-why, why don't you like me? Why isn't it the same?"
((So Layton's reaction, and then Descole can run off? Sound good?))
Layton is now trembling, arching and panting softly with his eyes drawn tightly shut - his mind isn't happy to be in this situation, but his body certainly is; hardly prone to such bouts and being largely affected by trying to focus on Luke. He flinches uncomfortably as Descole tries to goad him, blushing in further embarrassment and wishing desperately to be free from this forceful, vengeful creature.
He opens his eyes to stare up at Descole as his nature shifts once more, half-lidded and hazy with overwhelming discomfort (and something else, of course).
"Th-the same as what?" Layton finally forces out.
"What does it matter to you? You can shut up. You're lucky I haven't gagged and bound you, so d-don't question m-me!"
His voice grows more desperate, he's trying so hard to not think of him as Fessah not to think about Fessah at all, but it's no use.
He gets progressively more upset, thinking how wrong this is, Fessah shouldn't have to be coerced and blackmailed into a pretense of affection ((ha.ha))
"It's n-no use. This isn't right you d-don't care it's not-it's not the same."
At this revelation, Descole stops all movement, stands up and backs away, towards the window.
Suddenly Descole snaps, and pulls back from Layton, who is genuinely surprised - but quickly curls inward protectively, drawing his legs up.
Descole backs away in something that Layton can only assume is some kind of dismay, and Layton apes this. He is clearly mad, absolutely mad and volatile and- and this frightens Layton. He shivers at the sudden cool and watches Descole's erratic movements with trepidation, finally murmuring in almost-pity: "I am sorry you cannot find what it is you want, Descole." He sighs again. "But you won't find it here either."
You wont find it here
He backs away until he's standing against the window.
"No...
No, I wont. Not anymore."
With one last look of ambivalence at Layton, he turns and, with practiced ease, jumps out of the window.
why
Layton numbly draws his pants up, still flushed with unwelcome excitement, and makes the smallest of sobs as he draws his knees up so he can rest his head against them, covering his eyes, trying to block out all manner of attempts at logical thought. landoclairelukeallgoneallgonejust- Layton digs his fingernails tightly into his knees as he shudders again, tries even harder to push aside all of his concerns and misconceptions and unhappiness. He lets out another small sob, normally he would have to keep in check for Luke, but now Luke has even been taken away from him and-
I miss him.
After a long time he finally stands gingerly up, takes a final baleful look around his empty, empty apartment, and looks fixedly at the ground in shame as he moves to his bedroom to erase all the tension and discomfort his unwelcome intruder has caused.