Lost Boys

ind/pri/sel OC roleplay blog for Resident Evil youngblood Silas Nivans.

All my information is accessible directly from the blog URL. Rules / About / Headcanon / Verses / Tags / & Carrd for mobile users. Now, as for me?

🏳️‍🌈

Between 25 and 30.

Unwilling victim of capitalism.

Free Palestine!

Send 🍆  for my muse’s reaction to being sent a very intentional nude

Luckily for HUNK, Silas is usually awake at that time, so the message reaches him without any delays. Picking up his phone, Silas almost immediately has a grin on his face.

[msg] Fuuuuuck. Should let me come polish that.

[msg] I need you to come over and play video games while I suck you off or something.

[msg] Or we can take a naked drive with my head in your lap, c'mon.

[msg] It's about to be the witching hour soon, let's go get into some trouble.

He paused and worried his bottom lip between teeth. It's sudden, and it's forward, he knew- but it would be more out of character to not ask. As much as Silas was Silas, he had to admit that he had a way of being a continuous point of fascination. Two wondered what it would be like to eat the Mold. Synthesis with something larger than yourself. A pair of super organisms making contact.

A bit like a kiss.

"I want to know what I tasted like. And then maybe you can tell me what you think you taste like. People in general. Maybe there's a way to describe taste in ways beyond purely semantic and maybe you can get me there."

in reference to

"You did want to see how it felt."

Silas is reveling in it, there's no two ways about it. He has an insufferable easygoing smile on his face, his cheek resting on his hand, as if he'd known all along this would be the outcome. Just so assured of himself, and now satisfied to find he'd been right. You would never know he'd been a little bit scared when it happened that Two was going to put his face through a table.

(It had turned him on a little, being so tightly gripped like that.)

But now, oh. He's got it now, the swagger of a guy who knows he's got what he wants in the palm of his hands now. All confidence. Teasing, even.

"You ask so many questions." he says. "You tasted like a kiss."

The answer's likely to frustrate Two, and Silas knows it, but it's also the best way he knows to answer. He's not a writer, and he won't pretend to be one. He's sure at some point he's read one of those cheesy romance novels that described the sensation of a kiss, taste included, in any dozen number of lurid or overly-detailed ways. Like wine, like honey, like silk - fact of the matter was, every time Silas has kissed a man, he's tasted skin. Sometimes with a cigarette or beer flavor layered over it, but skin, every time. And that's okay with him.

A hand slides around Two's waist and Silas takes in those pretty purple eyes.

"I can't believe you can't taste things."

The smile has faded a little, but it's still there as Silas tilts his head. There's no way someone would put this much effort into creating a humanoid machine, regardless of which way the mechanical/organic split divvied up, and then neglect that particular aspect? It would just be cruel.

(this is from @diedindulvey but that's a side blog it had to be sent like this rip u.u)

are you silas' type? bingo card here

More to amuse himself than anything, Silas has now adopted a reclined pose, with a suspicious face, kind of like a hiring manager who suspects the new hire is lying on his resume.

"First of all," he points out, "you're more than ten years older than me. Let's not lie, now."

(that's a positive, why didn't he mark it???)

There's also a big white elephant in the room, which is that unmarked NO KIDS slot. That part wasn't optional - Silas is not serving as anyone's dad, uncle, or other guardian figure when he can barely handle the big brother role given to him.

are you silas' type? bingo card here

"You've already done this one, HUNK."

oddly heavy and cold to the touch. feels like clutching a fistful of ice. holding it too close to his head gives a migraine, and peering at it for too long will make silas' eyes water.

"I lowkenuinely need that back when you're done looking at it, sorry."

Send '💎' to give my muse a cool rock that your muse found! Feel free to add a description for the rock.

If "bad vibes" could hold a physical presence, it was probably this. Listen, Silas has a patience with, even a fascination with, things that were 'off' or abnormal or otherwise out of the ordinary. It's who he is. But the more he looks at this little stone, the more his head aches, and the more he thinks he shouldn't be touching it. As such, he quickly finishes his examination, and passes it back.1