- allison hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- anders ⧒ the white tower,
- beckett mariner ⧓ twin cities,
- cecelia ardenbury ⧓ olin vale,
- count dooku ⧓ the white tower,
- david alleyne ⧓ krakoa,
- declan lynch ⧓ sanctum aurorae,
- finn onaru ⧒ the white tower,
- fuu hououji ⧓ eden,
- jin bubaigawara ⧒ twin cities,
- jonathan walsh ⧓ northwestern imperium,
- kang ⧓ seekers of the new dawn,
- kylo ren ⧓ sanctum aurorae,
- lucina ⋈ ␣,
- luther hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- midnighter ⧒ the white tower,
- number five hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- padmé amidala ⧓ luminary,
- pepper potts ⋈ the white tower,
- rey ⧓ the white tower,
- ronan lynch ⧓ sanctum aurorae,
- rude ⧒ olin vale,
- stephen strange ⧓ the white tower,
- tony stark ⧓ the white tower,
- wei wuxian ⧓ house of m,
- wen ning ⋈ house of m,
- xue yang ⧓ sanctum aurorae
SEPTEMBER 14TH, 2020: THE SYNOD IS CONVENING.
THE SYNOD
While the Gates are the simplest form of transportation, those making the journey to the Synod from the White Tower have the option of travelling by train, if they wish. Despite the playfully grim moniker, there haven't been any recorded fatalities on board the Death Train in many years. Or ever, really. Raw, untamed entropy doesn't do anything as simple as kill.
For that delightful reason, passengers will be reminded at frequent intervals not to attempt to leave the train once it enters the active zone of the Porter's defenses, or to do anything that could jeopardise the integrity of its shielding.
The journey is relatively comfortable and takes approximately two and a half hours. A limited menu of pastries and alcohol is available from the buffet car. The smallest tables seat two.
As the train passes through the entropy-saturated wasteland of the Deathdome, the view from the heavily tinted windows of each of the train's four-person cars is impossible to comprehend: every atom of the landscape is in a constant state of flux, scattered in endless possibilities across the multiverse.
WELCOME CARPET
Inside, you get the impression of three towers; no view from outside is possible. You're totally sealed inside for the week, by the same Fate-built tech that shields this place from the ravages of cosmic radiation— the train station is built into the structure, entrance tunnel hermetically sealed.
You're greeted by welcome robots, primitive little things full endless enthusiasm and covered in dents. What they lack in intelligence they make up for in persistence and durability. Each and every ImPort is assigned their own personal robutler.
Though they tend to hinder more than help.
Boop boop boop boop. They provide you with a complimentary swag bag. Inside is one (1) t-shirt, one (1) top of the line tablet (pre-loaded with this year's Agenda and a simple game app that looks suspiciously like 2048), a stress ball, personalised souvenir pen and eraser (but no pencil), and of course, a lanyard keycard for accessing the comfortably adequate accommodations provided for all attendees.
Given the week-long Synod, your room itself is a decent suite, furnished with dark colors, redolent with a smell you can't quite place. You may find yourself assigned an unexpected roommate, which may feel awkward considering you'll find arrayed on the beds, a half-dozen complimentary tickets to the spa, restaurants and the power gym, with its preternaturally durable equipment.
Robutlers constantly remind: do not attempt to leave the Porter facility or do anything to jeopardise the integrity of its shielding.
Talks and panels take place in the convention area, which feels like a miniature city within the Porter's defenses, a hive with padded audience seats, wide stages, and complete with holographic audiovisual equipment that's curiously compatible with presentation software from every city.
Here, ImPorts will present and debate various topics regarded as major concerns for all. [OOCly, players are invited to suggest topics! Scroll down; they will be added below.]
This is also something of an expo, where cities practically demonstrate— or show off their good works. From the latest hovertechnology models to demonstrations of healing powers, playful duels in the forcefield-enclosed stages to magical books that temporarily transfer skills on touch, this is the place to pretend you're showing off your cards... while playing the most important ones close to your chest.
PANELS AND DEBATES
Every night of the Synod, ImPorts gather to dine in a grand hall with a ballroom party. Each dinner is hosted by one ImPort city, gruntwork complete with robutlers-- which guarantees food safety, and complete with multiple cuisine options, cultural decor, and entertainment.
Given the range of cities represented, food options vary from greasy burgers to six courses of seafood and blue venison, and rarefied vegan fare.
When ImPorts aren't here eating, they're most often talking. Ergo, it's not uncommon for low-key drama to break out, but this year, the majority of Synod days seem to be passing uneventfully.
Fortunately, speeches are reserved for daytime. After dinner, it's time to dance.
The last song of the night is always obscure music no one can quite remember the words or melody to afterward. It's a slow dance song meant for two or more partners; the ballroom grows dark and the world seems to fade away. Or rather, it just fades back into one's hotel room.
On Monday, September 21st, shortly before the Gates are due to resume ordinary function and allow attendees to leave, the Porter building suffers a power cut.
Abruptly, all the lights cut out. Music stops. Your faithful robutler freezes in place, unresponsive— though its internal systems appear to be running, the centralised command hub that it relies on has fallen silent.
Though the robutlers are out of comission, technology-minded ImPorts and their tech drones hasten to reassure that systems analyses are underway. Within a few hours, repairs begin, the estimated time being two days.
In the meantime, thanks to the diversity of powers on hand, there is enough food and water. Candles start to circulate. It might even be a little romantic, if it weren't for the chaos outside. Characters might find themselves trapped in an elevator for a few hours, or compelled to seek comfort from one another.

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"Lan Zhan..I.." He what? He doesn't know hot to respond or how to feel. It's like his heart wants to jump right out of his chest. His grip on the man's wrist loosens but he doesn't move away and he still holds onto it.
"Even despite everything I've done?" Because perhaps that is what is so hard to believe. He had done nothing but push him away.
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It's only then at his question. "Despite everything you have done, nothing has changed." He feels his grip on him loosen. "You don't have to think about it." But then after this night, he won't see him again and he'll be wondering when if they ever meet again for another chance.
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There is a hesitation and then the next instant, he places his hands on Lan Wangji's face and draws him in, placing his lips against his in a kiss. This could be the last time he sees him. After this Wei Wuxian may get pulled into more of the resistance tasks and find himself going underground. And so he can't hesitate anymore after what he has heard in these last few minutes.
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He wanted him to think about it, so he has a chance to forget it, to run and flee, or maybe continue the friendship...and then in the next moment, like a whirlwind of emotions, he's the one kissing him. The reaction was immediate. He kisses him back, with much passion. This could be their last night, their last week, who knows. His heart is pounding, his breath leaving him, and suddenly he felt that flame and torch he holds for him begin to spark and burn brightly.
In the dark, he wraps his arms around his waist as he kisses him hungrily. He never wanted this dance or this kiss to end.
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There is no shame in the fact that this is happening in the middle of a party. Perhaps he can just pretend he was drunk if someone asked him about it later.
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But his self-restraint is reigning his desires over, and his arms around him loosen and he gently lets him go. His pale jade face is colored crimson with a flush.
"Wei Ying..." For a few moments, he doesn't what to do. His self-restraint and desire fighting. He just stands there gazing. "I have the night free." He offered but giving him one last chance to reject him.
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"Let's go." He offers a small smile as if to reassure the other man. After the kiss it isn't like Wei Wuxian can just go back to his room and forget about everything. It would make for a very uncomfortable night.
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He happily follows after him. He doesn't mind. For once, he'll let go of worry. Despite how badly he pushes him away just to protect him, he's not giving him up easily and he would have told him it's unnecessary.
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It's just safer that way and he fully believes it is better if the man doesn't know. But perhaps he needs to have this one night. To forget all the things he has done and have a distraction from life on this world.
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He remains quiet once the elevator reached its destination. Wherever Wei Ying goes, he follows after him through the halls.
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He doesn't even carry Chenqing much anymore. Having mastered the control without music, it makes it easier for stealth missions. No telling sounds of the flute to give him away. Death for most is silent and they never hear or see it coming.
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"I am here."
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He wants the distraction. And perhaps this is a little cruel. Maybe he is simply playing a terrible game with Lan Wangji's heart but it is what he needs right now. He needs to feel like there is something more then just killing. He needs to feel something again besides emptiness and loneliness.
As they reach the bed he turns to the other man to make sure he will agree to this.
cw: nsfw wangxian starting here
Looking into his dark eyes. "Let's continue." He said, assuring him of his choice and his confidence, and that he wanted this. He reaches for his hands to kiss them softly, then gently kisses up his arms and over the hollow of his neck.
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Wei Wuxian stays quiet. He lost that talkative spark years ago. He had to stay so quiet on his missions and he spent so much of his time with no companionship that he just got used to being quiet. But no words really need to be said when there are other ways to portray their feelings.
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Words aren't necessary. He wordlessly searches for him in the dark, his hands roaming over his strong, slender frame, starting with the slow caresses of feeling over his abused body, giving him the comfort he needs to soothe his hurts with his touch and kisses.
Even though he was driven by his instinct, he was being gentle with him. He gently pushes him to the bed. Each movement careful, not wanting to terrify him from this experience, and still have a measure of self-restraint. "Lie down." He whispered as his weight on top of him is warm, very warm, and solid as he pressed his body on the soft bed.
His kisses on his lips continue, starting with gentle kisses, and then more demanding, trying to coax him to relax and open to new feelings and sensation.
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His mouth opens, beckoning the man to deepen the kiss as his hands start to explore that strong back and shoulders. He finds that he has wanted this...that he has perhaps felt more for this man then he ever realized. Feelings that were always there beneath the surface even though he tried very hard to push them down.
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Strong hands feel up his thighs, encouraging him to lift up his legs to wrap around his waist. Shy at first, then he presses his hips down, to initiate a slow grind, a gentle rubbing their cocks together. "Does Wei Ying like this...?" A question to see if he wants more of it, for him to continue.
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"Nn..yes, Lan Zhan. Feels good."
He loosely wraps his legs around Lan Wangji's waist as he rocks his hips against the other man. He feels his desire growing, that fire in the pit of his stomach growing as the kissing becomes more intense and their bodies start to heat up.
He opens his eyes and meets Lan Wangji's with his own. His expression intense as looks at him. He reaches up and his fingers deftly remove that headband.
"No restraint, Lan Zhan. I want you to fuck me with everything you have."
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"Mn. Feels good for me too. But Wei Ying's pleasure matters." Looking in his eyes, he enjoys watching him letting go and allow himself to feel. As he tugs at the headband, it becomes loose. Normally he would swat his hand away, but he took it off, letting Wei Ying grip onto it.
"Wei Ying, the shameless things you say." It's kind of cute. His hands slide down between them and in a vice grip, wrapped his hands around their hard length to stroke their cocks together as the grinding continues to relieve their pent-up tension and needs. "Keep moving your hips like that." He murmured. His mouth goes lower, seeking his nipples, and tentatively he flicks and curls his tongue around his perk nipples, giving each one attention and gently sucks as he strokes their cocks to spark a whirlwind of feeling and sensations from the stimulation.
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His hips rock into that hand as his nails start to dig into Lan Wangji's back, desperate to have something to grip as his body becomes even more sensitive with each touch and motion.
He doesn't know why or how Lan Wangji knows how to do what he is doing and he isn't going to ask. Who the man has been with is none of Wei Wuxian's business. All that matters is how he is making him feel and the destraction he is offering from the rest of the world.
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For now, there's only the feeling, the joy, the reconnection, and helping him unblock the feelings of emptiness and loneliness, even if the pleasure is temporary and just for one night, that one for a thing certain, the love is real and expressed physically.
"Wei Ying..." he whispers his name hotly between pants with passion and affection. Lan Wangji continues to flick his tongue around his nipples, and gently swipes his tongue across between his collar bone and along his throat, leaving a trail of slick heat. The rocking between them becomes faster and harder, he strokes becoming faster, getting him closer to their release, toward his climax, a thin sheen of sticky, thick liquid begin to weep over their cocks as a sign that they're coming close.
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His hips jerk as his release comes, spilling over that hand and over his stomach. Pleasure washes over him as sparks dance across his skin from the feeling. He moans the man's name as the last of that liquid spurts out.
Fingernails left divots in the man's back as he had held out tightly with that release and now those hands relax slightly to flatten against the spots he had just marked.
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He looks into his eyes and nuzzles on his neck. "Better...?" He isn't tired yet. He presses his teeth on his skin and bites on his throat to leave a mark and gently licks over, a small break before recouping for another round. "Or do you want more? Because I want more of you. I want you, Wei Ying." As he meant what he said to him much earlier, every single word.
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He slowly regains his breath as that high starts to ebb away. He misses the feeling immediately and waits for Lan Wangji to plan his next move. Moaning softly at that mouth marking his neck.
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