They do a lot of talking in the sweet air of the control room, about everything and nothing.
Some species remain colonial year round while others only gather together for winter hibernation.
An operative from the future tells Wade that he has two options: kill himself before he has a chance to live 2000 years and become Cable's accomplice in dictatorship, or kill Cable. So now, Wade has thirty days to figure out a way to die. Unfortunately, most of his ideas involve convincing Cable to kill him. Fortunately, most of Cable's ideas for stopping him involve sex.
Jin Guangyao starts playing the song of torment much earlier and triggers an unexpected reaction.
Jin Guangyao nods, face a picture of concern. “Forgive me, but I have no idea what this nature is that you speak of?”
Nie Huaisang grimaces. “Normally this is one of the most funny things about being a Nie,” he says, seriously. “But with this severity,” he starts trailing off. “Every five or so years we have this overwhelming biological urge to …
Jin Guangyao starts playing the song of torment much earlier and triggers an unexpected reaction.
Jin Guangyao nods, face a picture of concern. “Forgive me, but I have no idea what this nature is that you speak of?”
Nie Huaisang grimaces. “Normally this is one of the most funny things about being a Nie,” he says, seriously. “But with this severity,” he starts trailing off. “Every five or so years we have this overwhelming biological urge to um,” he says then pauses. “We need to have sex. Usually it’s mild enough that each of us gets to spend a weekend locked in our rooms alone taking care of it, no problem. If you’re married it's even better I assume, but it’s never deadly.”
“It was deadly in the past, it has been lessened over time, but it seems Nie zongzhu is experiencing the full force of it.”
Brandon and Phillip have an arrangement. It isn't a game; it's closer in spirit to a contract.
Sixteen ways of looking at a rabbit.
Prompt: "swimming in the buff". Carcer watches with ill intent.
Evening is the customary time for intercourse, David has helpfully informed her, but it makes no difference here. Nothing makes any difference.
There is a susurration of cloth as he makes his genuflection. He does not intend to fall on his knees, but it happens. The resignation and dignity he has sought to cultivate throughout his confinement dissolves like wet sugar in the face of that which he has held out for, despite himself, despite all that he knows about the workings of the King of England, which is everything. Or so he has thought, often, and never correctly.
Goodsir is at heart a merciful man; Hickey uses that against him.