A one-shot played using A Death Shroud On The World Entire. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.
The Witch: Billy Salt
Prophecy: 2 (a seductive devil will offer power at a cost)
Poison: 4 (greed) [current: 3]
Need: 5 (dominance) [current: 2]
Witchery: 3 (shapes) [current: 2]
Fuel: 3 (guilt)
Skill: detective
Billy Salt is a private investigator by trade and convenience. He enjoys prying into the private lives of his targets (and potentially feeding on their guilty secrets) as well as the feeling of power we wields over his clients (drip-feeding them information and making them dependent on him). He cultivates a stable of wealthy clientele who can keep him in the lifestyle he is more than accustomed to. His magic is usually subtle, his manipulations are based on glamour and fascination, but when needed he draws upon his raw metamorphic power.
1st Scene
Where: Ace of Clubs - Tower (Isolation)
When: King of Clubs - Fertility (Wantonness)
Who: 10 of Clubs - Rose (Beauty)
Tall, heavy blackout curtains mask the windows, the harsh neon lights of the streets of Reflecia outside kept at bay. The room is instead lit by numerous votive candles in a range of exotic and expensive scents. Together they fill the room with a warm, sickly sweet air and cast the stylish, understated décor in a soft glow. In the centre of the room, two low, leather couches having been pushed aside, a swirling pattern of lines and curves has been traced on the floor in multi-coloured powders. At the heart of the mandala, in an area of clear floorboards, Billy Salt crouches, his naked skin damp with perspiration from his exertions.
Balancing his weight on the balls of his feet, he gently rocks his hips, the lean muscles of his legs and buttocks tensing and relaxing in sequential rhythm. With self-control honed by years of practice, his rigid penis slides in and out of his tightly-clenched fists with glacial, excruciating slowness. His breathing is tight and shallow; sharp intakes and ragged exhalations. He has maintained this stance, pace, and level of arousal for close to two hours and his mind is hovering at the edge of both orgasm and consciousness. It is this state that he finds his visions are at their most accurate. He often wonders why that might be, if perhaps being on the cusp of several extreme states at once frees his mind from the distractions of linear time. He doesn't wonder that now, of course, instead he uses what little capacity for thought not yet obliterated by the crashing waves of pleasure to maintain his focus.
In a previous meditation session, one that took place outdoors under a full moon, the silvery light casting his toned body in relief like a marble sculpture, he had seen a vision of power and temptation. He has spent the weeks since ruminating on what this could mean, he already has a healthy collection of clients and marks, more than enough to keep him comfortable. He also considers how they also provide him with attention and satisfy his other appetites. Business has been good lately and having just finished a messy divorce case, where he spied on both partners for each other of course, he had decided to investigate his vision further. Besides, his methods of seeking prophecy provided were rewarding in themselves and he felt that he deserved some indulgence.
A bead of sweat forms on his brow, grows heavy, and slips loose. It traces his temple and the soft curve of his cheek before rolling under his broad chin and down his neck. He feels the deliciously cool air on his skin in its passage and suppresses a shudder as much as possible, his body emitting a small tremble nonetheless. That small movement gives the droplet momentum enough to tumble down his firmly developed chest, passing achingly close to his nipple, and then on down his stomach. He inhales sharply and his abs come into definition, the bead of sweat passing over them before being caught in the well-maintained grove that is his pubic hair. As his hips push deep into his hands, he ever so slowly rotates them and feels the small drop of moisture against his wrist once he is buried in himself to his full depth. He permits himself a soft moan, which rumbles up from inside him and comes out in a low, throaty, groan of barely contained ecstasy.
At this point I realise I haven't actually made any rolls yet. Ahem. So, following the rules I roll when there's something the character wants but can't just have. I think that in this case he is absolutely devoted to gaining insight over fulfilling his own lust, so the thing he wants but can't have is sexual release. I feel his poison (greed) is applicable here, though perhaps not his need (dominance) as I'm seeing that more as dominance over others. So we're looking at 2d6+1.
Outcome: 3 + 6 + 1 = 10. A positive interpretation.
Card: Seven of Diamonds - Wolf (Outsider).
I think this is where the Rose arrives...
A loud banging sound shakes him from his reverie and very nearly from his balance. He starts to topple and in order to right himself he quickly slides his hands up and off of his penis to touch the floor. The sudden friction along the length of his shaft nearly finishes him off, but he recovers his composure and his balance in time. Rising to his feet shakily he casts a glance across the room to the passage leading to the front door, the source of the banging. A frown furrows his brow as he gingerly steps out of the mandala, careful not to break any of the lines, and retrieves a black silk robe from the back of a chair. As the cool fabric glides across his skin he loosely ties a the cord around his waist and makes his way to the door. He presses his eye to the spyhole in the heavy steel door, in the flickering sodium light of the hallway he sees a slight figure wearing a plain black hoodie, the hood drawn up to cast their face in shadow. As if knowing there is someone on the other side of the door their hand rises into view and makes a swift series of motions.
Billy's cock twitches and throbs, his balls churn and ache, and he's almost certain that he begins to slowly leak precum. He closes his eyes briefly as the sensation washes over him, and when they open the figure in the hallway is gone. He slowly backs away from the door, listening intently to the silence on the other side, and finally pads back into the ritual room. He stops in the doorway when he sees that the room is no longer unoccupied. A slight figure in a plain black hoodie, black jeans, and barefoot kneels in the centre of the mandala, their head bowed so their face is still hidden from view. A soft voice, barely above a whisper, reaches his ears.
"Remove your robe... Kneel before me..."
He wants to resist - his Need (dominance) demands it - so that's +1.
Outcome: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7. Barely a success.
Card: Jack of Clubs - Law. Trigger Need and Witchery, reset Poison.
Revised Outcome: 3 + 3 + 3 = 9. Still barely a success.
Injury: I rolled a 1, so it's related to his Witchery (shapes).
With every ounce of self-control at his disposal, Billy remains standing. He feels his knees tremble, desperate to lower themselves, but his will alone holds them aloft. He recites the words of an ancient spell of binding. His target is within a bound space, the powder-drawn mandala, and Billy takes advantage of this opportunity to turn the tables. He feels his erection throb and at the edges of his concentration he glimpses images of the interloper submitting to his lust.
The figure feels the effects of the spell and quickly notices their mistake, they writhe and struggle against the invisible constraints that are quickly closing in around them. They briefly make the same motion as before, and Billy feels a wave of ecstasy wash over him. He quivers and closes his eyes briefly, feeling the pressure in his balls building. He bites his lip, almost fumbling the incantation, but grunting and sweating he is able to maintain his focus. His eyes dart open and he looms over his prey, gasping out the final words of the spell and slamming the binding circle shut around them.
He stands for a moment, breathless and panting, his black robe loose from the physical exertions. The spell is a difficult one at the best of times, and using it against such a powerful entity immediately after such an intense... divinatory session has drained Billy's reserves of magical power. He will need to play out the interrogation carefully, unable to make good on any threats he might make.
"Lower your hood. Show me your face" he demands in a low, husky voice.
With trembling hands the figure raises their arms to push back the hood. Snow white hair cascades down their shoulders in flowing locks. The hands, delicate and pale, like porcelain, brush the hair from their face and Billy is immediately aware of their striking violet eyes. Billy feels the eyes drawing his attention into their depths, the shades of violet shifting and refracting, pulling his thoughts down into them. With an effort of will, he pulls his attention away from the mandala - disturbed to see that in his stupor his hands had wandered within his robe, each was gently stroking and tugging on a nipple.
He decides to shift the focus of power in the situation. He shrugs his robe off of his shoulders and lets it pool on the floor at his feet. He stands over the occupant of the mandala, proud in his nakedness, his erection on display.
"Speak your name."
The entity flutters its lashes and giggles behind its slender hands. Billy grips the base of his shaft, slowly draws his hand up its length to collect the precum that has been oozing from its tip, and flicks it at the entity whilst uttering a word of power. He hopes that the built up power combined with the rules of the binding, will prove effective.
Rolling Need again.
Outcome: 2 + 3 + 1 = 6. Failure (and rolling a 2 loses a point of Need).
Card: Six of Hearts - Autumn (Scarcity).
The entity wipes a streak of fluid from its face and runs a long, serpentine tongue across its hand. Its eyes close as it savours the taste. Billy realises that, other than the dangerously beautiful violet eyes, the entity's face is smooth and unblemished any more than the suggestion of a nose, the merest slit of a mouth. A small shudder runs through its body, gradually building as a laugh escapes its mouth.
"Such potential and yet such... disappointing results" the entity croons to itself. "What if I could give you the means to fully... release yourself? The means to make mortals bend to your desire. Is that what you crave?"
Billy bites his lip to contain the urge to accept the bargain outright, he know that the entity is bound and that if nothing else, its licence to depart is a card that he still holds.
"Give me a taste of this power you offer, so that I can take your measure. Give me until dusk tomorrow before I commit."
The entity tilts its head to one side and strokes its chin in an exaggerated pantomime of consideration. Its slender, ivory fingers sensually caress the lower face and the entity shudders gently under its own touch. Despite its minimalist face, it conveys a sultry look that sends a delicious ripple down Billy's spine.
"Your terms are... acceptable. This will be a most enjoyable test of your... limits" the entity extends a hand as far as it can within the confines of the binding. Billy cautiously reaches out to shake, it is important to ensure that the pact is properly sealed before releasing the entity. The entity's hand's length and grace belies the soft, supple feel of its flesh. Billy's hand is enclosed, the long fingers curling in ways that suggest no bones inside them, the entity's skin pulsing erotically against his.
Billy feels a surge of power building up inside him, flowing from the entity in waves that alternate between exhilirating and soporific.
He's going to try and get as much power as he can without being overwhelmed, which I think fits his Poison nicely.
Outcome: 5 + 4 + 1 = 10. A positive interpretation.
Card: 10 of Clubs - Rose (Beauty).
I like that it's the same card as the "Who" of the scene, that feels fitting and also a good point to wrap up.
The power builds to a smothering crescendo that crowds out all other sensation. Billy feels his knees buckle and his body convulse. At the height of the transfer, his back arcs and his hips thrust forward, his mouth opens in a silent scream as thick ropes jet from his rigid penis. As he sinks back into the warmth that follows the orgasm, he feels his consciousness slip away.
