Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
*Pyke prowled through the defaced corners of his hunting grounds with practiced stealth and a vigilant eye. Although the world seemed murky as a side affect of his ability, Pyke's familiarity with these streets enabled him to navigate the area without issue and swim his way to the desired location; a bordello for demented sailors, where the lines between shame and desire blurred into obscurity. He wasn't a regular or anything; but it'd be dishonest to suggest they hadn't made their fair share of gold from him. He tried not to make a habit out of it, but it was so damn difficult with all this swine crawling through the streets. Each gutting shrinked his capacity for humiliation and amplified his propensity for perversion and indulgence in primal desires.**When he manifested in front on the building which exuded a faux-opulence, he started curling and uncurling his fingers in anticipation. A flickering light in the far corner of his eyes cudgeled the tension building in his core, almost irritatingly so. As his narrowed gaze leveled at the sign, an inquisitive brow rested on his peeved face. '..... Harrowing Emporium?' He'd never seen this store before, perhaps due to his tunneled vision that only ever zeroed in on one establishment of this square. As he assessed the storefront with a mix of suspicion and intrigue, he found himself at a loss for words. The artifacts looked to be ancient... And forbidden, as if plucked straight out of the Shadow Isles themselves. Pyke couldn't help but wonder how a shopkeeper in such a.. Humble area could even get their hands on these relics. Bootlegged, probably. Small sellers, big sellers they're all massive frauds..**The dicotomy between what his body needed and what his mind craved made him shift his weight slightly. As his eyes skimmed the text on the crooked sign of the store that read; 'ONLY OPEN ON THURSDAYS', he clicked his tongue. There's no way he'd wait another full week to satiate his curiosity.*
"Tch. Fuck it.."
*Bidding farewell to the fleeting pleasures of the brothel, Pyke advanced towards the emporium's front door with purpose.*
Locked Content
NSFW