fandomtownies | The Infinite Consortium, Thursday Afternoon

Well, a bit of information had been passed along to Ignis earlier than morning, and though he supposed it could have waited for another day...he was certainly in no rush for new weapons, he would feel rather silly if he were to show up to discover they'd already been claimed. Best swing by this afternoon. Why put off for tomorrow, so on and so forth...

So there he was, with a small box tucked under one arm, pushing open the door to the Consortium, taking a few steps in before stopping and taking a moment to look around, in his own way. Getting a sense of the place, the flow of energy and spaces, the subtle sounds and any tell-tale or interesting aromas, especially for a hint of where Liliana might be tending the shop without having to do too much poking around with his cane until he had to layout figured out.

(He figured utilizing it would be less embarrassing than just potentially colliding into something, albeit just marginally).

It was a large space, though filled with various shelves and counters and the like. It was too big and airy to feel cluttered and the walkways were kept clear, but it was very apparent that there was a lot of stuff present around him.

Off to his right and several yards in front of him, he could hear the rustling of expensive fabric and then Liliana's voice calling out, "I don't suppose you're here for the sign, I would love y--Ignis!" Surprise and gratification colored his name and the rest of her words were spoken with a smile. "Well, hello. Welcome to the Infinite Consortium. Would you like to come to me? Or would you rather I came to you?"

There was just a moment, where Ignis couldn't seem to help the faint, satisfied, almost relieved uptick in the corner of his mouth at that shift in tone, especially leading with his name, that came with the recognition.

"I'll come to you," he said, confident now that he had a direction for her voice and an approximate estimation of distance. His steps were, quite literally, measured, committing them to memory and a slowly building concept of the layout as he moved that way.

"And of course," he added, "now I simply must ask about this sign..."

"I have a sign in window asking that anyone who knows how to completely obliterate something come in and let me know," she said. "I have a favor to ask of them." A pause. "There's also some kind of large bell in the window on display, but I've no idea what it is and disinclined to look."

Being that it was her store, the very air was subtly infused with her fragrance, but he could measure her closeness both by the nearness of her voice and when that scent became fuller and warmer, clinging to her skin.

"Does that favor just so happen to be to obliterate something?" Ignis guessed, truly a shot in the dark. "And is that something that bell? I'm afraid, however, that the only thing I can obliterate with complete confidence is a sweet tooth."

Which is when he held the small box out for her.

"Fruit tarts," he explained. "A bit of a speciality of mine. If you're interested."

No mulberry, alas. To be that on the nose felt a bit gauche, really.

Edited 2023-09-21 17:27 (UTC)

"I--ooh," Liliana's conversation -and her attention - were immediately diverted. "Oh these look delectable,, she started while her stomach has the audacity to growl at the same time.

Horrors.

She plucked one of the glazed fruits off the top and nibbled on it. "Mmmmmm," she groaned and then a moment later, Ignis could feel her fingers holding something - shape suggested blueberry perhaps? - to his lips. "A bit of your own handiwork?"

At first, Ignis' attention was grabbed by that growling stomach that couldn't hide--certainly not from him, anyway--under her words, with a faint frown and unable to help himself from wanting to know when the last time she'd eaten, snatches of their conversation after the Three Minute Dates drifting back up in his memory

A conversation that didn't have much hold on him when the next groan that emerged was very clearly not from her stomach, and thoroughly distracted by that, it caught him quite a bit off guard when there was suddenly something there against his lips.

"Mm." A sound more grunt then hum, which stuck thickly in his throat, and, in the split second of catching up, decided to approach perhaps not quite as delicately as one probably should in accepting a fruit on such a manner, so all due apologies to any fingertips that may have been inadvertently caught up in the efforts.

"It's always a trear," he then said, "when one gets to enjoy the fruits of their own labors."

Oh no. It was truly terrible. She made another soft noise as her fingertips got caught by his lips, a slightly different groan than had been caused by his tarts, but just as hungry.

"Also a treat, to be so delightfully surprised," she murmured.

And, because she was Liliana Vess and did what she wanted, she set the box of tarts down on one of the shelves, let the hand that has so recently been in his mouth fall to his chest, and then leaned in to kiss him.

Everything else could wait.

And to think, Ignis had only come in here for knives.

Well. For the pretense of, anyway.

As someone who prided himself in constantly strategizing two steps ahead of where he was going, he had to admit that he had not seen this coming. Or perhaps he did, perhaps that impulse toward indelicacy in the moment had known more than it was letting on. Whatever it was, though, as he leaned in to kiss Liliana back, his arm went to slide around her waist, bringing her closer, confirming to him that she was actually there, that this wasn't just some fantastical conjuration of a mind that had spent nearly a week in yearning and denial of that yearning.

Yes, that had been pretty foolish of him. Liliana would never be that ridiculous. Honest.

Her mouth tasted like sugar and fruit and pastries, and with another soft, greedy noise, opened beneath his, offering him more of her, sweetness tempering her natural aggression. Her hand slid up his chest, slow and deliberate, before resting on his shoulder, joined by her other hand to pull him closer as well. Her skirt molded against her legs but allowed for no skin contact, her low neckline, however, had no such compunctions.

Knives, yes. Cursed jester gear. Tarts. Plans. Bells, maybe? All topics for later. Right now, Liliana was going to fall into the pleasure of devouring Ignis' mouth, her single-minded focus the only way she could admit that it was an experience that had claimed far more of her preoccupation than she'd liked this past week.

Ignis was at a great disadvantage here. Well, he knew that to be true not even a minute into their first encounter, but specifically, in that moment, he felt the complications of unfamiliar territory. Not knowing where there might be a good wall or counter to press into, some shelf of who knows what to be disrespected for the offense of just being there as his own hunger pressed him forward to take as much as he could with the offering of her kiss.

He supposed he'd just have to make do, then, with his arm around her waist, his hand firm against her back, fingers spread.

Probably for the best, because her knees were already growing a little weak just from this kiss alone. If he'd followed it up by pinning her between a wall and his body, she could not be held responsible for what occurred immediately afterwards. Or for an extended time afterwards?

This kiss was already wreaking havoc on her senses, drawing not a groan from her, which would be bad enough but at least excusable, but a whimper, which was altogether far too open and honest a reaction than Liliana preferred. But how was she supposed to remain cool and unaffected when he was claiming her mouth with a truly intoxicating mix of warm desire and cool competence?

Truly rude to Lilis.

Clearly the only possible response was to turn it back on him, increase the heat already pouring between them, and slide her fingers up to get lost in his hair.

Yes. That would show him.

Edited 2023-09-21 21:51 (UTC)

If it was any consolation, that...sound (whimper? Surely not that, perish the thought) did not go without a response, a resonate gasping moan that worked far too well as a reminder to Ignis that his lungs needed things like air> (if you wanted to talk about rude, apparently he was just full of it at the moment, inside and out). And he had every intention of returning just as soon as that pesky necessity was taken care of, but another impulse gripped him just then, just as Liliana's fingers might grip his hair. He'd be terribly worried about the state of his previously perfectly sculpted coiffure later (much, much later, hopefully), but for now, well, how much better could those fingers explore if they were closer, as his lips left hers to a new claim buried in the expanse of her neck.

For a moment, when his lips left hers, there was the hope/fear/worry/frustration that he was pulling away, allowing her to once more regain her composure, her coy flirtatious demeanor, once more neatly tuck away all of these naked emotions and desires appropriately out of sight until she could once again hide them beneath an aura of arch carelessness.

Except he hadn't pulled away, simply regrouped and continued his devastating attack upon her composure from a new angle, ambushing her with his lips upon the column of her throat. Her skin was creamy, soft, and sensitive, the hollow of her throat one of the places where she placed a drop of fragrance in the mornings ('mornings'). He could feel her pulse beat beneath his lips, wild and fast now. It had kicked up a fraction just from hearing his voice, again when his lips had claimed her fingertips, and now was wholly out of her control, much like the soft cry of his name that she gave when he skimmed a kiss over it. "Ignis!" Half-swallowed back, it still reached his ears just fine, paired with a tightening of those fingers in his hair, holding his head close as if in defiance of that previous, foolish hope that he might let go and allow self-control to resume.

If the jesters' regalia wanted to take that moment and come alive with mischief and magic, Liliana was honestly inclined to let them, so long as they didn't interrupt this kiss.

Hannibal was nothing if not curious, even if his own disposal methods were best used on organic matter.

And he'd never been in this store since it reopened, so why not step in?

He came in and looked around curiously.

[Look, he's the one of my folks she hasn't met yet!]

"Hmm?" A soft, inquisitive hum as the sound of his name, into Liliana's skin, that place where neck melted into shoulder, and she could probably feel the spread of his smile against it as well, just a brief moment before taking that soft flesh between his teeth. Soft, gentle, at first, then not quite so soft at all. Payback, perhaps, for those times she'd managed to get nip in on him before he could return the favor. But then he kissed the spot as if to chase away any lingering sensation or pain left behind by his playful bites, then marked his path with a trail of kisses as he traveled back up her neck, to her ear, so he could whisper her name back to her in kind. "Liliana."

Oh. Oh dear. That was unconscionable behavior. You...you were not being very gentlemanly here, sir.

A full shiver wracked her body at the way he said her name, perhaps the cruelest thing he'd done so far. How dare he whisper her name and undo her so thoroughly? How dare he turn it into a caress, the kind that made her hips yearn against his, made her legs tremble, made her heart jump. Absolutely not, that was the dirtiest of pools and as soon as she managed to get herself in order, she was going to write a very stern letter to find out who authorized that kind of behavior.

Slowly, one finger at a time, she uncurled them from his hair and let her hands fall. To his hips, pulling him tight against hers, but she was calling it a victory anyway. "You...you..." she murmured, trying to find words that would explain without leaving her exposed and could find none. And, as she so often did, when she could find no suitable defense, switched to offense instead.

"I'd been assuming that we'd finally finish what we started on your bed in mine, but you keep kissing me like this, and it might end up happening right here in this shop," she warned, voice lower than usual and rough with want.

[No complaints from me!]

Most of the jesters' gear was organic, but he still likely didn't want to use his traditional methods.

He stepped into what was clearly a curio shop, a number of various items neatly tucked away on shelves and counters and cabinets. It was a large shop, which helped shed it of the claustrophobic feelings such places tended to inspire. The air was lightly perfumed by mulberry and cedar, and it was easy enough to find the source. Liliana was lounging behind the counter, her eyes narrowed and still on the jumbled pile in the corner, but her violet gaze swung over to Hannibal as the door opened. She remained lounged, however, far too bisexual to sit properly, even in the face of a new customer.

"Hello," she said, voice low and rich. "Welcome to the Infinite Consortium."

Hannibal smiled and graced her with a small bow. "Thank you kindly. Is the shop infinite, then?"

"No, but the bullshit certainly is," she replied with a delighted laugh. "I should be more clear - welcome to the Fandom Branch of the Infinite Consortium. It is not the shop that is infinite, but their reach."

Their. She was absolutely not affiliating herself with them, even if she was part of it by technicality.

"Ah." Hannibal nodded. "I find in Fandom it's best to inquire about these things. What does the Infinite Consortium do, then?"

"Specializes in procuring all possible items clients could ask for, even merchandise from other worlds collected by its planeswalkers," Liliana said, pulling herself a little more upright. "However, that is the main branch of the Consortium--" which was already going through a tiny upheaval, since Jace had wiped Tezzeret's mind, but we were ignoring that. "--this friendly and humble off-shoot--" Her teeth gleamed white in a smile that was far too sharp to really sell either 'friendly' or humble "--is more an...outlet store, I suppose? I don't take special orders - though I'll keep a look out for things if you're hoping to find something in particular - and sell whatever items and curiosities they send me."

She extended a hand. "Liliana Vess, proprietress."

Oh, but that smile just made her more interesting!

Hannibal reached for that hand and bowed over it. "Doctor Hannibal Lecter. It's a pleasure to meet you. And I must say I'm curious about what you can find. Though I also wonder what that sign in the window is about."

Darling, she was always interesting.

"Well, this week alone it's been flying carpets, magical jewelry, can't-miss throwing knives, and today..." She shuddered and pointed to a jumble of items in a corner. "Incredibly cursed jesters' gear."

Okay, so she didn't technically know it was, like, cursed-cursed, but also...look at it.

"I'm hoping to destroy any last vestiges of it before whatever horror it's going to unleash gets in the way of my bath and I have to be annoyed."

"Knives?" That was absolutely in Hannibal's interest.

He eyed the jester gear and grimaced at it. "Apart from being absolutely hideous, is it actually cursed in a way that makes it difficult to destroy?"

"Well, the masks are made of bronze, and I'm no pyromancer," Liliana said. "And...hard to say. They look like they could be Rakdosian artifacts, and the Rakdos are demon-worshippers who enjoy torment and bloodshed for kicks. They throw truly excellent parties, though."

Which was always an important quality.

"Though it's basically a coinflip whether their orgies will end in bloodshed." She paused. "Substantial bloodshed," she amended.

Look, that was definitely up Hannibal's alley.

"My usual recommendation would be acid," he offered. "Though you'd have to be well-ventilated. Still, it's less unstable and more destructive than fire. For the bronze, we do have a local blacksmith; her forge should handle it."

He smiled at Liliana. "Moderate bloodshed being more acceptable?"

"I can't quite discern," Ignis murmured, turning his head toward hers, breathing her in during this somewhat merciful pause, "if that means I should stop...or keep going..."

"I haven't quite decided myself," Liliana admitted ruefully. "Normally the pleasures of a bed and being undisturbed for hours would win quite handily, but you are...very tempting, Ignis."

Her hand drifted up to his collar, then slowly dragged a finger down his chest, curving between buttons. "I do suppose you came to my shop for a purpose beyond being seduced amongst the shelves, though?"

"I might have some acid amidst all these jars and things," Liliana said frowning. "I haven't taken a full inventory yet. But I certainly don't have any to hand."

And, really, if she wanted to, she could excoriate everything with black mana fire, but why do something yourself if you could get someone else to do it for you?

"A forge might be useful. I hadn't realized we had one in town, however." And this would likely be the only time she had reason to go visit one, if she took it. Liliana's weapons were very rarely made of steel.

And then she gave him another one of those slow, sharp smiles. "For a Rakdosian orgy, that's basically the price of admission. I'd just want to know up front if someone intends to sacrifice me as part of the...proceedings."

Feeling a slight shift, as if that pause had been enough to remind him of things like propriety and decorum not only existed, but they'd found that spring that he usually kept so tightened haven loosened itself up and began to start coiling it back, Ignis pulled back enough to kiss Liliana again, a long and deep and hungry and like it was fearful that it might be the last one after he answered her question and dragged them closer to a world that existed outside of each other.

"Knives," he said, low and deep, as though if he whispered it, it might still pass unheard, or be interpreted as something else. "A little bird told me you might possess some that might interest me."

Hannibal chuckled. "It's always best to manage expectations. And yes - Amaya Blackstone is the smith; she's made a number of lovely knives for me. Her place is one street west of the park. She works with any number of metals, and is always looking for something new. She might even be able to make you something useful out of those awful things."

Hannibal had plenty of acid, but that wasn't the sort of thing you let on to someone you'd just met.

"Are you new to the island, or simply new to the shop? I haven't seen you around, but I get out less often these days."

She kissed him back, just as hard, just as fervent, lips pink and soft and slightly sensitive from his kisses. "Knives," Liliana repeated, slowly opening her eyes which had slid shut under his most welcome onslaught. She did not move, however, content to still be wrapped up in him, even if they were speaking, not kissing. "I believe I do have some that might spark your interest. Though I'm fairly certain I told a puppy, not a bird."

Sorry, Prompto. She hadn't seen you in hummingbird mode, but you definitely give big golden retriever energy.

"Magic knives. You can fight with them and, with a touch of magic, can throw them and they will not miss, though they won't be good for anything afterwards."

"I think I first arrived roughly...a year ago?" she said, brow furrowing in thought. "But I was gone for the past five months. I had...business...off-plane."

Just a spot of light conquering, as one did.

"Returned on a more permanent basis about four weeks ago. It sounds like you've been around much longer than that, however?"

Ignis' soft smile came with an even softer breath of amusement.

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully, as if rolling it over inside his head, before giving it a small shake. "Sounds a bit...superfluous. I already have daggers that won't miss when I throw them, even without the magic."

Well, not for aim, anyway.

"That's not the only way they're magic," she said, giving him a slow grin back. "A wager, then. I bet once you see what these knives do, you'll be interested enough to buy. If I'm right..." Her voice dropped low, full of dark promise. "You volunteer to make me dinner again. Sometime very soon."

Ignis' chin lifted slightly.

"And if you're wrong?" he asked.

"I ask you very nicely to make me dinner again?" Liliana suggested with a soft chuckle. "I mean, if I'm wrong, it's your forfeit. I'm sure there's something in the store I could find to interest you..."

He felt her ease away slightly, not even out of the circle of his arms, just enough to get a better look at him, her regard almost palpable on his skin. "I do have several thoughts of things I think you might like, though I don't know enough to know what you might want. I've realized this week that I know very little about you."

And most of what she did know had come from his friends.

"So what would you want, Ignis?"

The immediate answer to that would only land them right back to where they'd been just a moment ago. And as wonderful as that had been, his second thought, he felt, had the potential for greater reward for that sacrifice.

"To make you dinner again. Sometime very soon."

He did get a kiss for that answer, if it helped? Though it was lighter and softer - one might almost say sweeter,, except this was Liliana and she would blast you for it - more a brush of her lips over his.

So it possibly didn't help, just left him aching for more. "Agreed," she murmured and then she was moving out of his embrace, because the knives were elsewhere. There was the sound of her picking up the box of tarts and then her other hand was brushing over him again. "This way."

She wasn't loud when she walked, but he could tell she was deliberating making enough noise to make it easier to follow her, leaving his attention free to learn the layout without needing to focus either on tracking her or keeping up a conversation. They went to the front counter and Liliana set down the box of tarts, picking up another which sounded like it was made of a hard wood and lined with...sounded like velvet, perhaps. Something soft and plush. She pushed it along the counter towards him. "There are four inside, hilts towards you, resting on a pillow."

Ignis was already aching for more; a kiss like that just seemed to make that ache feel almost incandescent, and it wasn't even until they reached the counter that he realized he should have been mapping it out in his head, but all he could focus on was her.

There was small miscalculation of the boxes position, corrected easily, as he picked up one of the knives. Tested the shape of it, the weight of it, the way the blade moved through the air and how they seemed to conform naturally to his his grip, and then he picked up a second with his other hand, did a little bit of the same.

"They're quite a bit smaller than what I'm used to handling," he noted, "but I can tell they throw well."

"Are they now?" Liliana asked archly, because if he was just going to leave that joke on the table, she would absolutely pick it back up. "I'd hate to think they're too small to be satisfying to wield - though, I do believe that the longer you practice with them, the more they'll conform to your expectations of size and weight and heft."

Nothing like a rousing conversation about weaponry while daintily nibbling on fruit tarts.

"I can bring over other knives if you'd like to give me a more concrete example of what size you're used to handling."

Hannibal nodded. "Ten years now. I commuted from the mainland to here for a while, then moved in. "I live in the house" mansion "on Phoenix Place now."

Liliana tried to remember the last time she's lived ten years in one place. Innistrad, perhaps? Learning necromancy? So...not for almost two hundred years.

"I don't know if I'm familiar with it," she said thoughtfully. "But then, I haven't been to that side of town much. Myself, I've settled in a lovely home" mansion "in the woods not far from here. It was a little" creepy and abandoned "rundown when I arrived, but even just looking at it, it's clear the bones were good."

And if there was one thing Liliana prided herself on, it was knowing quality bones.

Hannibal nodded. "I had to completely redo my place as well. The previous tenant had a somewhat...overblown sense of himself, which informed his decorating."

Because Dr. Doom.

"If you'd like, I can pass on the information for the contractor who did the work. They did an excellent job, and I have very high standards."

"Oh please," she said. "I would adore that. It sounds like it would save a great deal of time and effort that way and I haven't bothered replacing most of my staff yet. Being able to contract this out to professionals would be delightful."

"Of course." Hannibal took out his phone and glanced up at her. "You don't have a problem with large slugs, do you? He's very good about cleaning up."

The Infinite Consortium, Thursday Afternoon

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