Arcanist Tales
“The tale never ends, until a hero conquers the demons. May science and will prevail.” *** Alistair Neon Percival. The True Apostle of the Luminiferous Aêther, The Reckless, The Defender of all Beings, Self proclaimed king of emotional blackmail, Reborn in the year 1980 NC. His goal? To be the strongest and attain all magical, scientific, and economical knowledge in the world! However, with the flames of war staining the vast world, soldiers bidding their family farewell, and kingdoms of the realm butting heads to see who has the biggest stick. Institutions on the rise, large and small, each competing for benefits while experimenting on the common populace in the name of science. This is the tales of the Alistair, the practitioner of all things Arcane and most especially. The Apostle Of Aether. Note: contains strong themes of violence, real world knowledge, and slightly opinionated narration.
Pleasure in lovely pain
There was slapping flesh, saliva-stained tongues dancing and wrapping each other. A spectacle of fat caressing a lady of plastic and implants.
They scattered the entire room in an attempt to stick the pencil in a hole... it wasn't going great.
"I want you in me," said the blonde-haired 'service worker' with a soft moan but tried secretly snatching a buck from the drawers.
Her actions proved futile as the two-hundred-pounder propelled her to the bed. His face of fat squeezed with lecherous depraved expressions.
"In you, I, shall enter."
A flailing 'rod' swung upon each step, the man's weight shaking the earth beneath.
The blob of fat crawled atop the bed; fondling the mattress while heading for the revolted woman ahead.
"Come here, come here…" The man stopped, eyes as if seen a ghost.
The throat lost its voice.
Everything turned quiet. Dread lingered.
Behind the prostitute, a silhouette lingered behind the window.