(no subject)

[maskormods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: An hour outside De Chima
WHEN: January 10-12
WHAT: imPorts are treated to a Swear-In that’s nothing but a weekend of relaxation at a brand new resort and spa!
WARNINGS: Possible mild nudity

It’s been a long few months, hasn’t it imPorts? Between the invading monsters (yikes!), evading the apocalypse (double yikes!) and then some fear toxin on behalf of your good pal Joker (triple yikes!), imPorts are overdue for a vacation. And wouldn’t you know it? One is coming right up.

Oh, yeah. It’s a Hot Springs Episode.

Welcome to Elysium Resort and Spa! When you come in, you’ll get a brochure with all of their offerings. They’re a little confused, perhaps, espousing relaxation ideals of every culture, clearly having just thrown all of their relaxation spaghetti at the wall to see if it sticks, but they’ve got the spirit! The smell of eucalyptus fills the air as you toe off your shoes and change into the slippers and robes that they have available for you as they usher you into what must be, for some, absolute paradise.

You can find rooms for all persuasions here, all purporting various health benefits. They have your typical fare - salt rooms, saunas, steam rooms, buckets of water with ladles resting in them to pour over the heaters to allow them to sizzle - but be warned! Some of these rooms climb up to ridiculous temperatures, leaving the bottoms of your feet red and toasty as you jump in (they suggest sandals, but who reads instructions anyway?), and other rooms are filled with ice as you’re plunged into what may as well be a walk-in freezer. Sometimes the doors are a little fiddly, though. Don’t worry - you won’t get trapped in here long enough for any real harm to come to you. But you might get a little uncomfortable as you rattle at the door, one of the employees eventually hurrying to let you out and offering their sincerest apologies, and won’t you have a gift certificate?

If those rooms aren’t enough for you, you can check out the baths. Salt baths, chilled baths, and hot tubs galore are here for imPorts, but that’s not all. Ever wanted to bathe in tea? In wine? Would you like to sink into a bath filled entirely with clay? How about getting all your dead skin chomped off by fish? It’s all here for you! Just try not to drink the bathwater - or, heavens, eat the fish. Those aren’t for you!

As imPorts stroll outside, they’ll see a beautiful vista overlooking the mountains, attached to a spacious hot springs (it’s natural, they claim, but who’s checking?) where imPorts can simply relax and enjoy the scenery. After that, why not pop inside to where some of the technicians will absolutely insist that you get a massage. Or a mani-pedi - yes, even you, big guy. Or, really, anything that your heart desires.

Once you’ve been poked and prodded and primped to your heart’s content (or discontent, as it may be), the spa open until the wee hours of the morning, it’s time to go and dine on some of the local cuisine, prepared fresh by the resort’s resident chef with a distinct eye to fresh, clean flavors and a truly ridiculous amount of salad. They want to make sure that you’re healthy inside and out, after all!

Before arriving at the spa, everyone was able to choose who they wanted to room with. But it seems that their systems got a bit scrambled during their grand opening, so you may find yourself bunking with a stranger instead. They’re deeply apologetic, of course, but it really would be easier for them if you’d just be nice for an evening and give it a shot. It’s only one evening, right? It’s not like you’ll be roomed with a serial killer. Probably. Given the imPort population there’s, what, a five percent chance?

The hotel rooms themselves are beautiful and spacious, each with a window looking out over the lovely view of the scenery below. It’s the perfect way to end your night… until 3 AM when an alarm begins to blare and all of the guests are ushered outside in the chilly winter air while firefighters come to check the place out. It’s a false alarm (some brat must have pulled it, the manager says apologetically, ready with more gift certificates), but hey, maybe this is a good chance to get to know your neighbors!

The next day, guests are free to take advantage of the resort’s facilities once more, or they can go hiking in the mountainous trails available to them, complete with regular rest stops with firepits, with the staff more than happy to pack lunchboxes and fixings for s’mores.

After they come back and have a thankfully uneventful night’s rest, buses will be ready to take them back to civilization, along with goodie bags filled with luxury goods and an earnest invitation to come back anytime! But maybe next time, wait a couple of months so they can iron out the kinks in their system.

Comments

[roughworkdone]

[Kavinsky isn't off base and Kaz knows it. The work gives him something to do and he gets paid well in return. It gives him room to build a reputation, to get other work, and it gives him the capital he needs.

And when Kaz gets home, he takes off his gloves and counts the cash with bare hands. So Kavinsky can fuck off.]

I don't need to feel anything, [he deadpans, refusing to be the first one to flinch. A dangerous game to play with someone like Kavinsky.] I get the work done and you pay, that's all that matters.

[Kaz wishes he had the armor of his suit, but the robe and his gloves will have to be enough.]

[pillz]

[hitting on virgins should be a lot more boring than it is. hitting on this virgin, specifically.

kavinsky breathes in the dim warmth off kaz's skin. the reality is, he has no interest in rekindling the traumatic telepathic flashbacks that he'd accidentally incurred the other month. that rot, that filth, would have bothered him more before dr. chilton's reconditioning treatment, but even to his numbed-out, broken soul, it's still distinctly

...unpleasant.

so he hovers.] Question, [he says.] Independent and pragmatic businessman that you are, [who even talks like this.] Master of your blade and your little empire or whatever the fuck you're doing. Doesn't it bother you, your PTSD shit still controls your life? There's weapons you can't ever use because of it. Sex, touch. That's what they are, you know. Weapons.

[roughworkdone]

[Maybe it feels more like hunting when the virgin in question is all teeth and claws. He can feel Kavinsky's breath on his skin and he thinks of all the ways he can break his nose if he pushes too far again.

But now they both know what might happen if he does. Kaz Brekker's very unexpected defense mechanism.]

It doesn't control my life, [he answers smoothly. It doesn't surprise him at all to hear Kavinsky weaponize bodies.] I don't need to use sex as a weapon.

[He has people that can do that for him if it comes down to it. Money gets a lot of things done, and thanks to Kavinsky, Kaz has a pool to work with.]

And, as I recall, my touch is already a weapon.

[Whether he likes it or not.]

nsfw words!

[pillz]

A weapon you can't control. Ain't a good weapon after all.

[maybe that's a little bit of a guess, but he remembers the look on kaz's face that night he shoved the cane into his gut. that had been no premeditated maneuver. he couldn't even find real malice in it.]

Six billion people in the world, sweetheart. And you're liable to throw up in your mouth and inside your little psychic brain every time one so much as brushes your arm.

[fabric creaks as kavinsky leans in, a little closer. indolent.]

Don't tell me you never think about it. You know drugs. Uptown ones that get you more in your head, tranquilizers downtown that take you out. You know lust-- little bit of heat, like an itch, bitchy in the mornings and restless at night. Don't you ever wonder, what it'd be like if it was actually you? [kavinsky's head rolls a few inches on its stem, his eyes drifting across kaz's face like iridescence across oil slick.]

Somebody to roll you like the dregs of a cheap red off a streaky glass on the tip of a wino's tongue? [his eyes are smiling, but he keeps it from his mouth.] Like a fast car. [my fast car.] The engine vibrations running up your ass and your groin, throaty as fuck. Emphasis on the fuck. Pistons punching home.

Don't you want to know what your li'l voice sounds like when it breaks? Or what your pits smell like after licking?

[roughworkdone]

[That first touch hadn't been premeditated - Kaz didn't even know he had that power before then. Since then, he's tried to look up ways that he might control it, resolving to be even more careful in avoiding skin to skin contact. It's no different than his usual precautions. He gives Kavinsky a dead look.]

No, I don't really think about it.

[A lie. One that Kaz has told himself for years now. No, he doesn't want those things. He doesn't need them. He's not about to be brought down by some base instinct for reproduction or intimacy.

Kavinsky keeps getting closer, playing the same note over and over. Invading space, dripping possibilities.]

What business, Kavinsky?

[He has to want something - everyone does. Kavinsky is after--what? His virtue? That is long gone regardless of how many or how bodies he's touched. Or is it just that Kavinsky thinks he's found a way beneath Kaz's armor, a weak spot to exploit?]

[pillz]

[give kavinsky some time, he'll make a fake dating meme out of a lucrative operation at some point! just watch him. but it will, admittedly, take some time.]

I'll leave you a voicemail about it next week.

[how would look kaz look in silk and a fat diamond, as arm candy? his sourpuss face would be adorable. what if he killed everybody in the room? that seems like a problem for next week. and it'll count as a date, won't it?]

You'll make a killing, I promise. [he grins. too many teeth.]

You gonna tell me what it is you're saving up for? She ain't here, you know. [inej.] White picket fence and little blue house, kids. It ain't gonna happen here.

[roughworkdone]

[Kaz rolls his eyes, but he is listening.]

Does this killing have a number? [Priorities. He gives Kavinsky a sharp look at the taunt. He knows what can and can't happen here. Inej is in Ketterdam, where she belongs. Even there, there is no hope for him. I will have you without armor or not at all. The words feel seared into his skin.]

I have plans here. Plans require funds. It doesn't, and has never, had anything to do with her.