The Hatter and The Hare?! (Mature)

Beyril blushes, trying to ignore the two next to them. "She sounds like she has a wonderful ability, though. Much more interesting than mine."
Mad Beyril wove the fingers of her left hand in his hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck. She bit it gently, working her way up to his ear, her other hand exploring.

Sylas blushes as well, putting up a hand as sort of a shield. "Being able to resonate with anyone is a special ability. It would make you invaluable in a large battle. If a weapon loses their meister to death or injury, you can take that meisters place."
One of Mad Sylas's hands settle on her chest, the other moving downward. "You're so very good at this game, Beyril..."

She nodded, "So far it's been mostly trouble." she admitted, "And it's exhausting to hold my wavelength where it needs to be to resonate."
Mad Beyril moaned softly in his ear, "I do so like games." she smirked, her hands traveling downwards as well.

He nods. "Just give it time and practice. That's the only way anyone got good at anything."
Mad Sylas start nibbling on her neck. "You don't have to be quiet, love. Let them know you're having a good time."

She nodded, "It's easier to hold it if it's a weapon I'm used to. It's like breaking in a new pair of shoes."
Mad Beyril smirked, "You first." she moved down onto the ground and sat on her knees. She pulled his underwear off with her teeth, and set to work.

Sylas grits his teeth lightly, nodding. "Yeah, I know the feeling. I hear Death Scythes are supposed to be easy to connect with..."
Mad Sylas lets out a loud moan, tilting his head back. "B-Beyril, you naughty girl..."

Beyril's cheeks matched her hair, "That's handy for you, at least."

Mad Beyril wiked, continuing her work.

He shrugs, a similar shade. "I've only got and need one meister. Unless Lord Death calls on me to be his personal weapon, that is..."

Mad Sylas squirms slightly. "W-What about liking it fair?"

"You can act on your own, too. If I don't have a weapon, then there is nothing I can do." Beyril exhaled, trying to eat her food without acknowledging the two.

Mad Beyril giggled, "Oh but I love watching you squirm."

"That's not true. Go talk to my sister sometime. Even if she can't teach you to use your wavelength, she's a black belt in karate and Tae Kwon do. She could at the very least teach you to defend yourself."

Mad Sylas moans louder. "B-Beyril...I-I'm...d-dammit..."

Beyril nodded, "I'll have to ask her sometime. Thank you."

Mad Beyril chuckled, "You're what?" She teased, continuing.

Their food arrives, and Sylas tries to busy himself with it and with conversation. "Tell me about yourself, Beyril..."

Mad Sylas grits his teeth, releasing. "T-That, love...Dammit, where'd you learn that? I thought that body was new..."

"Well, I grew up in Death City, with my mom and dad. They passed away when I was 14. I didn't have anywhere to go, and I didn't want to end up somewhere awful, so I lived on my own. Usually in the streets. Occasionally I'd save up enough for a hotel for a night." She shrugged, pausing to get a bite of food.

Mad Beyril winked, "Maybe I'm just good."

Sylas nods. "Must have been rough. Didn't you have any family friends you could've stayed with?"

Mad Sylas pants lightly before grabbing Mad Beyril by her arms. "C'mere love. Time to return the favor." He pulls her onto his lap so they're sitting the same way, one hand traveling to her chest and the other dipping lower.

She shook her head, "No, my parents were socialites, but I didn't know anyone. Preferred to leave the kid at home, you know?" She smiled lightly.

Mad Beyril moaned, "Mm.. Favors are good." She grinned wickedly.

He sighs softly. "Must've been rough though. Still, at least you made it this far..."

Mad Sylas grins, roughening his movements. "I think I want you to beg again, Beyril. Beg and scream..."

Beyril shrugged, "It was, but I don't regret it."

Mad Beyril gasped, "Oh, Sylas..." She moaned.

Sylas blushes again, taking a quick drink. "So...Anything you want to know about me?"

Mad Sylas grins. "Louder, and I told you to beg."

She looked over at the two and winced, "What was your family like?"

Mad Beyril groaned, tossing her head back, "Oh, Sylas, give it to me. Oh, please!"

Sylas leans back, blushing deeply. "Well, my mom's a weapon and dad's a meister. My sister Rose is only a few years younger. We're from Canada."

Mad Sylas grins, starting to speed up and grow rougher. "Tell me you love it. Scream it."

Beyril blushed deeply too, "Do you remember Canada?"

Mad Beyril cried aloud, "Oh, I-I love it! Oh please, give it to me!" She dug her nails into his shoulders.

OOC: She's facing the other way, but whatever...

Sylas nods. "I remember the fields on snowy days. How sometimes it would snow while the sun was out and it would look so pretty. On fall nights we had a firepit we'd roast smores around. And the forests, so pretty. On a winter's day after a hard snow, the branches glistened in the light."

Mad Sylas moves at a furious pace, both his hands now involved below her waist. He bites and sucks on her neck, leaving a mark.

Beyril smiled, "It sounds magical."

Mad Beyril cried out, releasing. She sighed in satisfaction.

Sylas nods, frowning slightly. "Though...I sort of...leveled a bit of the forest..."

Mad Sylas grins, nibbling on her ear. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Look at them, so flushed. You know what they're thinking...Even my prudish other self is turned on by your shouting..."

"Oh..." She sighed, "We'll, I'm sure it's grown back." She offered.

Mad Beyril giggled, "And so much fun as well."