RAVE WAVE! {Event}

Not only was Cillian excited about this little outing, he wasn’t afraid to show it either. A lot of times, the tall, lanky man came off as a bit laissez-faire about many things, but the truth was that he loved people and parties. Hell, the only reason he’d been a little grumpy at the start of the ball Dela had mostly dragged him to with the Rune Knights was just because it was a formal affair, which wasn’t entirely his thing, and even then he had greatly enjoyed himself. This atmosphere was completely different, however. It was much more casual and focused entirely on just letting loose and having a good time with the two sassy and spirited ladies that had, for whatever reason, decided to keep sticking around him. Cillian had had a number of friends over the four hundred year course of his life, but he really hadn’t ever gotten very attached to any of them, nor stuck by them for terribly long. But for whatever reason, he found himself more and more drawn to both Vera and Dela, who had quickly seemed to become best friends and soulmates in their own right.

So now here they were. If Vera was high, Cillian didn’t really seem to notice -- in fact, if he had ever picked up on times in the past that she’d been high in some form, he’d never commented on it. It was entirely possible that he’d simply accepted that she was just a bit odd, and perhaps a little moody at times. She looked quite happy at the moment despite what her complaint suggested, one of her arms slung carelessly around his bare, slender waist as she walked between him and her blonde counterpart. And speaking of Dela, the other female Rune Knight was putting a little more effort than usual into seeming disinterested by her surroundings, as well. Again, not that Cillian really seemed to notice. He was a guy that always seemed to take things at face value, rarely ruffled or put off by most other people’s mannerisms, a man who often appeared to be cruising along at his own pace in his own little world where occasionally other people floated along with him.

“Aww, see? I knew you cared,” Cillian teased, tossing his large, lazy grin over Vera’s head at Dela. As was typical for Cillian, he was not wearing a shirt. Given the heat of the day, he’d also elected to forgo a jacket of any kind like he occasionally wore. This meant that the fullness of his lean, muscular chest and all eight of his abs were on full display. His bottom half was covered by a pair of rather tight looking jeans, worn so low on his hips it was a wonder that neither of the women he was present with were currently arresting him for public indecency. The tattoo from the guild he’d recently joined, Hidden Blades, was set upon his left side, just above his hip -- though it would be invisible to anyone that wasn’t a part of the same guild he was. A good thing, too, considering that the guild he’d joined recently was actually a dark guild, which meant that Vera and Dela both would probably have to arrest him at some point if they ever learned about it. Thankfully, Cillian was good with secrets and genuinely had little to hide from either lady, anyway. After all, Cillian really wasn’t involved in any of the really shady business outside of cleaning up afterward. It was an easy job that benefitted his employers and gave him more regular exposure to dead bodies for him to use his necromancy on.

The three of them walked along, Vera steering them toward what appeared to be the hub of activity, Dela almost in passing snatching an exaggerative number of glow sticks off a lady that was handing them out, and Cillian excitedly taking in the scene around them with his dark crimson gaze. His attention was pulled back to his companions, however, when Vera released her hold upon both of their bodies and practically scampered ahead, eyes wide and dilated like a cat that had just noticed the world around her after rolling around in a pile of catnip. There she stopped, lamenting about the heat and preceding to pull her shirt off. Or at least, trying to. Instead, her movement was halted by her jacket being tossed on top of her head, the same one she’d dumped on Dela’s head only moments ago. Cillian giggled a little as Dela removed the garment from the other woman’s violet locks, informing her supportively that she wasn’t blind, that the moon was in fact still in the sky, and impressing that she was hot because the weather was hot.

While Dela dealt with Vera, Cillian took the time to eagerly snap and shake the glow sticks the blonde had offered him, sparking them to life and light. By the time he was done, he had five in total, each a different color and sticking out from between the tops of his fingers like he was a woman all alone in a parking lot with her keys as ready make shift weapons. Rather than hurt anyone, of course, he was simply ready to start partying. And he wasn’t the only one. Any semblance of boredom Dela had been faking before was quickly gone the moment she had a drink in her hand, and she was already lightly bashing her hip against Vera’s in time with the beat. Cillian, too, wasted no time in dancing with them. Dela had learned not too long ago at the ball that Cillian was actually a pretty good dancer when he wanted to be, though right now it seemed he was content to just throw his arms and body around like a goofball, losing himself to the beat and having a good time without really caring how he looked.

He danced loosely like this for some time with them, laughing and exchanging similar hip bumps with the ladies, generally just being casual and silly with them. He was at the beginnings of a rather genuine thought about how nice it was that the three of them had finally found an environment where all three of them seemed quite happy and excited to be together, rather than just one or two of them dragging along the others, when the moment of self revelation was robbed from him by a distracting acknowledgement: one of the paint drums had just opened up, and an event worker was busy dousing the top of it with a few new squirts of glow in the dark paint.

“Oh, hell yes!” he exclaimed shoving the glow sticks in his pockets where they could be seen glowing through the denim of his pants. Almost before the event worker left, Cillian had already snatched up the available drumsticks and got to work beating in time with the music. It didn’t take long before a small crowd had gathered to watch and dance near him, even cheering him on a bit. He wasn’t necessarily that skilled at drums, so while he was generally on point with the beat as much as any other average person might be, his beat work was slightly off at points. No one really seemed to care. They loved his performance anyway. Perhaps they were all already healthily sloshed to the point where they didn’t care and were just happy to have a good time. Or perhaps, it had to do with something else entirely.

Cillian was quite oblivious to the effect his abs had on other people. He was also oblivious at how most of the people present around him in that moment were staring at his chest as it quickly became covered in bright paint, the thick liquid dripping slowly, sensually down the contours of his pectorals and the rigid valleys of his toned stomach. He swung his hips around as he played, the motion drawing all the more attention to the snugness of his pants and how well the showed off the V shaped contours of his body that almost seemed to guide the eye down to his hem line and what laid beyond. Mostly he kept his own gaze on the instrument or on encouraging the people around him to keep dancing, but every once in a while he would cast his eyes back at Vera and Dela, giving them a playful look or wagging his eyebrows at them as he purposefully made a bit of a fool of himself for a good laugh.  

Cillian had been to more parties than he could remember over the last couple hundred years. The scenes and settings always changed as time went on, and societies and technology evolved, but generally speaking the people were always the same. Masses of strangers looking to have a good time and not caring too much about who was around, lots of loud music and dancing, drinking, and many other such activities whose presentations changed a bit over the centuries but were still the same highlights as all the parties before. The paint drums were a new idea to him, however. He’d heard of raves before, as they weren’t entirely new to modern culture, but he’d never gotten the chance to go to one. So far he was greatly enjoying himself.

He wasn’t the only one. The small crowd around him was jumping around and swaying their bodies to the music that he was drumming to, laughing and cheering as paint from the instrument sprayed all over them and him. Vera and Dela seemed to be having quite the moment of girl bonding, which made him smile slightly differently for a moment… until Vera suddenly burst into a cloud of dust, causing everyone around them but Dela and himself to screech in shock and wonder what had happened. As Dela coughed and breathed parts of Vera in, Cillian doubled over his borrowed drum, laughing. The two of them were more than accustomed to their purple haired counterpart’s proclivity for poofing into piles of what was usually some kind of drug. And given the way that most people were choking, he could only assume that the party was about to get a lot more interesting once whatever substance they’d just inhaled set in.

Managing to catch Dela’s playful wink as she walked away toward a larger dance space, Cillian grinned back at her and kept playing for a few moments longer, content with his activity and with letting her do her own thing. At least, until his crimson gaze caught what she was actually doing. She’d accepted a challenge for a dance off from a pair of twin girls that had puffed themselves up as invulnerable dancing goddesses. At first Cillian watched from where he played a bit idly, expecting her attempts to be general run of the mill dancing like any drunk woman would do. Instead, he was caught completely off guard when Dela, rough-and-tumble Dela, grouchy Dela, no-I-don’t-want-to-be-a-part-of-your-social-outing-and-you-can’t-make-me-go Dela, started throwing down moves like an utter pro.

“What the fuck?” Cillian sputtered in bewilderment, his eyes lighting up with childlike excitement over this amazing new development. Now this he had to see! Abandoning his station and leaving the drum open for the next taker, he wandered over toward the dance floor to get a better look, stopping only long enough for some event worker to stamp his hand. Along the way, he summoned Virgo and asked her to sweep up what was left of Vera and contain her safely in some fashion until the druggy Rune Knight had enough wherewithal to return to her true form. Standing just a little bit back from the front of the crowd, his tall body more than enough to peer above the heads in front of him, he watched as Dela absolutely decimated the two women, giggling like a mad man. She had put up such a protest in going to this event, just like she protested all their outings, but clearly she’d been holding something back about her interests and it had now taken form in an undeniable fashion as she flexed her skill before the dozens of onlooking eyes.

Cillian cheered as she moved, and then cheered louder as she was deemed the winner of the challenge by the roaring crowds. Once she got a stamp of her own, he grinned his wide, cheshire smile at her as she came right toward him. Hands in his pockets with his typical comfortable and slightly slouched posture, he didn’t pull back or act at all odd when she practically threw herself against him, her hand running along his chest and smearing around the paint that had accumulated there. “You kidding me?” he exclaimed when she asked if he’d seen her dancing. “How could I miss it? You kicked their asses! Who knew all this time that little miss lazy had a wild side that included killer dance moves?”

If he thought anything about the way she was talking to him, looking at him, or touching him, he didn’t show it. He’d seen Dela drunk before and already knew that she got a little handsy while inebriated, so at this point he just took it at face value that she was just more physical as a drunk. In his mind, it had little to do with him or any possible feelings of attraction she might genuinely feel. It was just liquid courage. So he made no attempts to push her away or stop her, at least not yet. He’d probably wind up having to do what he did last time at the Rune Knight ball and just keep an eye on her until her high started to come down, and then he’d likely have to escort both her and Vera back some place where they could recover. Dela inquired about a congratulations, playfully berating him for not at least giving her a high five. Still grinning, he began to slip a hand out of one of his pockets to obliged her.

Before he could finish offering the gesture, Cillian felt her hand up against… well, not his hand. He made a sound that was half a gasp and half a yelp, practically jumping right out of his skin. His hands flew out of his pockets to take hold of her by the elbows, pulling her hand back a bit as it lingered a bit longer than her innocent “apology” would have otherwise suggested. “Ooookay,” he said with a somewhat nervous laugh, his smile returning to his face but now slightly more alarmed than before. “Boy, I didn’t realize you’d had that much to drink already. Vera must have drugged you with something harder than usual.” Once again, he dismissed her behavior as symptoms of substances that encouraged her to behave outside her normal wheelhouse.

This, at least, allowed him to recover fairly quickly, the ease of his smile settling back in as he looked down at her, still holding her by the arms. “We’ve only been here for like… maybe thirty minutes, and for the first time ever you’re actually enjoying yourself without grumbling about it. Don’t tell me I have to take you home already?”  

Boy, Dela was really high. Cillian frantically pulled her hand away from his crotch, doing his best to keep his composure, her fingers still wiggling in the direction of that which she seemed most fixated on. She advised him that it had been a curiosity for her for some time as to what he was “packing” in the genitalia department, and that the handful she’d gotten was more than worth her approval. In fact, she liked it so much that she decided it needed a name, and thus she dubbed it…

“...The Ravager?” he repeated, equal parts entertained and utterly horrified. Cillian was so distracted by the sudden need to cope with the reality that his manhood had just been given a pet name that he didn’t even really hear her question about whether or not she could be a victim of said ravaging. His threat to take Dela home early was widely misinterpreted as the little blonde thanked him for the offer while simultaneously suggesting that they could just as easily perform the deed right there at the rave. She wasn’t wrong, of course: There were all sorts of elicit acts taking place around them, but for the most part Cillian had tuned those people out. Not that they really bothered him. It was more that they didn’t interest him or pique his curiosity as much as the other, more official activities that the rave had to offer.

The more Dela talked, the more her words became inflected with an accent he’d never heard from her before. She was also running wildly hot. Like, too hot. Cillian was starting to wonder if she’d gotten too strong of a dose of whatever Vera had exploded into the air, when the violet haired woman’s voice caught his attention. Crimson eyes glanced up briefly at the crowds to see Vera having returned to form, her gaze laser locked on her two friends with the crazed expression of a woman on a mission. Cillian’s face dropped from nervous amusement to resigned horror as Vera came sprinting at them, just as Dela was starting to follow up on her lewd propositions.

“Uh oh.”

Down the necromancer went in a heap of paint slathered flesh, only to wind up in the most precarious position that left the women with the full advantage. Dela was straddled on top of him while Vera had landed just past where his head lay on the ground, as he stared up at the blonde in wide eyed alarm. And of course, Dela was all too pleased with the predicament, praising Vera’s efforts at being a wingman, as she began wiggling her hips all too familiarly against his own. “Gah!” Forced to release her elbows, his hands quickly went down and took Dela by either hip in an effort to steady her and lift her up a bit so as to keep her from starting anything too salacious. Of course, this meant that now her hands were free to do as she pleased, which dawned on him only a moment later.

The Rune Knight drunkenly inquired his thoughts on her physical attractiveness, giving him permission to touch her with the promise that she’d only bite a little. “Ha ha haaa..” came the nervous laugh from Cillian’s throat, as he once more put on a face of panicked amusement. “O-of course I think you’re pretty,” the lanky man stammered. His voice stuttered not because he was lying -- for he truly did think both Dela and Vera were very attractive women -- but simply because he was far, far out of his element and comfort zone. His pulse was off the charts, the warmth of her body like fire against his own in a way he’d never really experienced and didn’t entirely know how to react to. “It’s a very generous offer, but I really don’t think this is the best time… or place… And you’re clearly not sober, so I don’t think it’s a good idea t-”

Dela’s hands were once more running all over his chest, smearing the paint around on him before rubbing it up onto herself. Then, she inquired if she should take her top off. “Oh no, not again…” he whispered, more to himself than to her as visions of the ball the Rune Knights had hosted came swimming back into his head, where Dela had drunkenly began to strip in front of all of her coworkers and supervisors. She called over to Vera for an opinion, inquiring if her female companion thought she should take her clothes off. Still holding Dela in place and frantic for a miracle to get himself out of this lusty nightmare, Cillian craned his head up to try and find the woman that had put them in this predicament in the first place. “Vera! Help!” he begged, once more not stopping to think about how easily his words could be misconstrued.    

Why in the world Cillian thought that Vera would help him was anyone’s guess, particularly given that Vera was the reason he was on the ground with Dela on top of him in the first place. Still holding the blond up even as she ran her hands along his body, Vera crouched down and practically shoved her face in his, watching the spectacle with dilated pupils the size of a cat primed and focused on a toy. He did not like the way she was looking at him at all. “V-Vera..?” the man practically squeaked, his voice small, high pitched, and full of dread. The purple haired woman reached over and removed his hands from Dela, and for one fleeting second Cillian though maybe he’d misread her, maybe she was actually going to take pity on him and help.

Nnnnnnope.

An unmanly cry of self pity loosed itself from Cillian as Vera scrambled on top of his chest, straddling him the same as Dela. “Whyyyyyyyyy?” he asked, wiggling to try and pry himself from beneath the two ladies and probably only managing to make their, erm… rides... a little more exciting. Vera’s response to Dela’s inquiry about stripping was met with firm, resolute encouragement, the likes of which one would see in a doctor prescribing medication for a fatal illness more than a woman trying to play wingman for her best friend. She claimed he had a case of blue balls and not only prodded Dela into the act of stripping, but invited herself into the party, offering to take part herself. And of course, Dela had zero problems with that, claiming that if he didn’t give in to their lusty whims that it was clearly because his genitals were broken, and how could he possibly ignore them both?

And just like that, Cillian had two women high off their rockers groping and stripping one another while sitting upon him. The necromancer was in full blown panic mode as garments were yanked off, flesh becoming more and more visible by the millisecond, with him more or less helpless to stop it. “VIRGO! VIRGO, I NEED YOU!”

It was like he had forgotten who Virgo was and what she was about.

The pink haired zodiac certainly appeared at his beck and call, clad in her typical black and white maid suit, but the second her eyes lit upon the scene they developed stars. She gasped in delight, clapping her hands to her face. In an instant, a riding crop materialized in one hand and a coiled length of leather straps with buckles in the other. “Finally,” the celestial spirit breathed, seeing nothing before her but a tall heap of potential punishment.

“GAH, NO! BAD VIRGO! DON’T HELP THEM, HELP ME!”

She stopped herself two steps away from the pile of flesh, peeling her eyes away and looking at him as though it were taking a second or two for his words to process in her mind. When they did, her countenance immediately turned to that of an abused puppy, like a bone had been held aloft before her, teasing her, only to be pulled away for good. “B-but… punishment..”

“VIRGO, GET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“UGH, FINE!!” The spirit dematerialized her toys in a small tantrum and spun in place, digging a hole deep into the ground and carving her way up beneath Cillian. There, she grabbed the man and yoinked him out from beneath them, though the women would certainly also fall in the hole. By the time all was said and done, both women were unconscious on the ground on either side of the still pouting Virgo, while Cillian crawled out of the hole, gasping for breath and wide eyed like he’d just managed to miraculously escape a cheetah that had tried to eat him for lunch. “Anything else?” Virgo asked, the very model of sulk.

Cillian waved a hand at her tiredly. “Nope… Nope, that will be all, I can handle it from here. Thank you.” The spirit poofed back to the Celestial Realm, and once Cillian had managed to catch his breath he looked down at Vera and Dela with a sigh. That was close. Shaking his head, he picked each woman up carefully, easily holding them over each of his shoulders, and began his trek home. The least he could do was give them a safe place to ride off their highs, and the hangovers they would surely have later.

Boy, Laverne was going to have a lot of questions for him when he got home, though.