[The song, much like it had at the concert, goes off perfectly. No matter the size of the audience, it seems like Xanxus never puts anything less than his best. That's good, they suppose. For that reason, they leave any filming to Fantasma, and let themself check out the security detail.]
[It's as they're eyeing someone by the exit that something suddenly changes. A heat in their stomach, a stirring of something that skirts the edge of pleasure, and their thoughts and eyes both wander to the bulge of Xanxus' muscle...]
[Ew.]
[Holy shit, ew.]
[Being a skilled illusionist requires more than a fine handling of Mist flames. In a battle of illusions, you need a heightened awareness of your surroundings at all time and the mental ability to disbelieve every bit of it. The slightest thing can give away if you've walked into a trap...]
[It also helps that they've never once been attracted to their boss. Mammon knows themself well enough to know that a nice singing voice wouldn't change that.]
[Mammon looks back to him. It's a trial and a half to ignore the invasive thoughts about the shape of his mouth, or the way his throat is bared in a way they'd like to bite, or how maybe they can help him get out of those god-awful clothes... But Varia Quality means being able to ignore your own stupid genitals acting up. He's looking straight at them, Mammon realizes. That's where all his focus is.]
[Fantasma squeezes their arm. She can feel it, too. Now that's unusual. Fantasma shouldn't be able to feel arousal. She's not even a real frog.]
[Now this is interesting...]
[Silently, they raise their hand up and curl their finger in a "c'mere" gesture. Time to see if the effect stays while he's on stage, while he's looking at them... Or if somehow they've been drugged.]
[They don't think it's that last one, despite the venue.]
no subject
[It's as they're eyeing someone by the exit that something suddenly changes. A heat in their stomach, a stirring of something that skirts the edge of pleasure, and their thoughts and eyes both wander to the bulge of Xanxus' muscle...]
[Ew.]
[Holy shit, ew.]
[Being a skilled illusionist requires more than a fine handling of Mist flames. In a battle of illusions, you need a heightened awareness of your surroundings at all time and the mental ability to disbelieve every bit of it. The slightest thing can give away if you've walked into a trap...]
[It also helps that they've never once been attracted to their boss. Mammon knows themself well enough to know that a nice singing voice wouldn't change that.]
[Mammon looks back to him. It's a trial and a half to ignore the invasive thoughts about the shape of his mouth, or the way his throat is bared in a way they'd like to bite, or how maybe they can help him get out of those god-awful clothes... But Varia Quality means being able to ignore your own stupid genitals acting up. He's looking straight at them, Mammon realizes. That's where all his focus is.]
[Fantasma squeezes their arm. She can feel it, too. Now that's unusual. Fantasma shouldn't be able to feel arousal. She's not even a real frog.]
[Now this is interesting...]
[Silently, they raise their hand up and curl their finger in a "c'mere" gesture. Time to see if the effect stays while he's on stage, while he's looking at them... Or if somehow they've been drugged.]
[They don't think it's that last one, despite the venue.]