To Gubbin
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TennyoCeres84
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To Gubbin
How have things around Aislinn's home since she started seeing Tom? How has it affected you?
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IamLEAM1983
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As Gubbin
"As an incubus, it stands to reason that Sir would prove to be a passionate man. Of the two of them, he has proven to be more inclined to compliment my work at the stove. As could be expected, he has also taken a shine to me - which I honestly have yet to reciprocate. While he considers lingering shoulder clasps to be sufficient compliments for a prepared meal or a cleaned living space, I persist in perceiving them as an invasion of privacy. I have not complained, however, knowing full well that the poor, erm, man is trying his hardest. These contacts grow scarcer by the day, but I see in which ways their absence feel unnatural to him.
Otherwise, I would have to comment on the strange faithfulness of such a canonically unfaithful creature. Again, I see the ways in which his exclusive relationship with the mistress come across as a sacrifice - and a painful one, at that. His urge to poach is germane to my urge to hunt; but something deeper than his own impulses is steering him forward, pushing him to soldier on. Those days in which the urges come at their strongest do seem to exhaust him physically as well as mentally, but a good night's sleep seems to fix the problem. What once seemed unbearably fetching is suddenly discussed as being paltry when compared to his shared happiness with madame. In the early days, it was obvious he was convincing himself of that fact. Now, however, it seems much more evident to him.
Unfortunately, my sleeping hours have suffered for it. Madame is seemingly quite adept in her intimacy, the masters' attempts at silent lovemaking still leaving much room for the bedsprings to squeak... That is, of course, when Sir does deign to stay within the boundaries of tenderness. Madame being in fine shape and Sir being supernaturally sustained, there have been nights in which the parlor and apartment's location and lack of shared walls has allowed for a blessed lack of noise complaints...
We immortals tend to favor an adage: undying love is forever young. If the saying is true, then I fear my children's children shall be forced to bask in Sir and Madame's rather unique form of conjugal harmony."
Otherwise, I would have to comment on the strange faithfulness of such a canonically unfaithful creature. Again, I see the ways in which his exclusive relationship with the mistress come across as a sacrifice - and a painful one, at that. His urge to poach is germane to my urge to hunt; but something deeper than his own impulses is steering him forward, pushing him to soldier on. Those days in which the urges come at their strongest do seem to exhaust him physically as well as mentally, but a good night's sleep seems to fix the problem. What once seemed unbearably fetching is suddenly discussed as being paltry when compared to his shared happiness with madame. In the early days, it was obvious he was convincing himself of that fact. Now, however, it seems much more evident to him.
Unfortunately, my sleeping hours have suffered for it. Madame is seemingly quite adept in her intimacy, the masters' attempts at silent lovemaking still leaving much room for the bedsprings to squeak... That is, of course, when Sir does deign to stay within the boundaries of tenderness. Madame being in fine shape and Sir being supernaturally sustained, there have been nights in which the parlor and apartment's location and lack of shared walls has allowed for a blessed lack of noise complaints...
We immortals tend to favor an adage: undying love is forever young. If the saying is true, then I fear my children's children shall be forced to bask in Sir and Madame's rather unique form of conjugal harmony."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: To Gubbin
I don't know if you're being rhetorical, but do you have children out there somewhere?
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IamLEAM1983
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- Location: Quebec, Canada
As Gubbin
"I do not; this was merely a figure of speech.
I am aware that I will seem old to eyes accustomed to the mortal plane alone, but my people's form of vigor yet remains in my bones. Perhaps if time and inclination permit, I shall return to Winter's steppes in search of a proper mate. My instincts have not been kindled as of yet and no mating urges have manifested - but a Malk I do remain. I occasionally sense my territory's boundaries shifting as other Malk lay claim to nearby streets, while forlorn yowls only my kind may hear do reach me on occasion.
As sentient beings carrying animal instincts, our primal selves must align for mating to occur. Hearing a female's mating calls from somewhere across the borough does not guarantee my availability towards her, much less my desire to initiate courtship."
I am aware that I will seem old to eyes accustomed to the mortal plane alone, but my people's form of vigor yet remains in my bones. Perhaps if time and inclination permit, I shall return to Winter's steppes in search of a proper mate. My instincts have not been kindled as of yet and no mating urges have manifested - but a Malk I do remain. I occasionally sense my territory's boundaries shifting as other Malk lay claim to nearby streets, while forlorn yowls only my kind may hear do reach me on occasion.
As sentient beings carrying animal instincts, our primal selves must align for mating to occur. Hearing a female's mating calls from somewhere across the borough does not guarantee my availability towards her, much less my desire to initiate courtship."