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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SixthMovement|Sixth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Sad Girl in Snow ==
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' ''Stupid Tahira. ''
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| − | ''Stupid Gennadi. ''
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| − | Though not quite Gennadi, as much. At least he apologized. She wonders how much he does that.
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| − | ''Well, seeing a deathknight break down in tears would surprise people, I guess. ''
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| − | She doesn't feel as bad now, slipping furatively among the shadows, her peacock 'tail' of light switched off. It feels silly now, that gaudy gold outfit -- why is she dressed up like a showgirl anyway? She really should have held herself back better. Really. And Tahira could have killed her.
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| − | The open-toed high heeled golden sandals don't make much of a noise on the backroads of Spire, nor does the tinkling of the fine gold chains connected to the top of her outfit. So remarkable, but then, it is an artifact. Her great green gem in the crown is not lit with inner light, her beauty is not enhanced.
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| − | ''Should not go back to Moon. ''
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| − | That rage and embarassment is still too close to the surface. If Moon finds out...
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| − | ''He may try to kill Gennadi. ''
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ''A trail I cannot miss. A splash of emotions most unexpected... and most powerful. Interesting... I wonder who exactly they're coming from. Onward, Monkey, onward! Let curiousity lead thee! ''
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| − | Snow Monkey scampers along as quietly as he can, metaphysical nose tracking the scent of dream and pain and boiling fury with little difficulty once he was close enough. It was quite surprising when he saw just who it was emanating from, those thing wisps of delicious soul-drippings. The Dark One. Winged Death, and seeming servant of the dead kings from far below reality. She was dressed... quite showily, however, and that caught him off-guard. That was his job, after all!
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| − | Still, it would have been a bad idea to actually sneak up on her, so Monkey rose from feet and knuckles, standing like a man and taking a moment to stretch, joints popping and false meat beneath false flesh rippling in an almost prerehearsed fashion.
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| − | "Good day to you, ally of mine! How fare you in this day of ice and shadow?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' No weapon, save herself. No armor, that is how he finds her. Careless, or perhaps that is indictive of how little most who would set upon her would matter to her might. Not too heedless, in any case, to not hear the person behind her.
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| − | She turns, gaze narrowing into the darkness, occasional lamps giving some light. "Since you are a dream-chaser, then you must know already. Not so well." Her tone is guarded.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Well, I do have hints and tastes, but no details. That would require more in-depth probing, and I'm pretty certain you wouldn't like it and it probably wouldn't even be possible. Your spirit is iron-solid... you are Exalt, after all." He offers her a lazy smile, eyes flickering and gleaming in the passing lamplight. "But that's neither here nor there, really... I shan't ask for details, but I think I will ask if you wouldn't mind entertaining a extremely bored faerie for a while. I'll try to make it worth the annoyance." His tone was... well, the usual careless joy that seemed to be in all his comments, be they harmless or razor-edged. And... of course, Monkey is prepared---he is always prepared, although his posture is loose and inoffensive.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Huh?" Selina looks with some confusion at Days, wondering whether she ought to think of the fae as a he or a she. Well, she did see it as a she first, right?
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| − | ''She. ''
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| − | "I have not really got much experience with the fae." Selina follows on in a tone that covers up her confusion a bit more embarassedly. However, it is driving down the negative remnents from her former meeting, so it is, in a way, good. Selina leans against a wall, wings spreading back over it as she looks Days over curiously. "Why are you bored? Don't fae always have something to do? Not just eating the souls and dreams of mortals, I mean."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Heh. It is simple to explain, but quite profound, and telling about what we are and why we do what we do." He stops, rubbing his chin while the thick, white-furred tail behind him sways lazily, perhaps in time to some tune in his head. "See, the hunt for 'something to do' is mainly what drives us. When you can potentially outlive even the mightiest of Exalts, and when time is but a lazy blur you give little thought to... it can get rather dull when some of those blurs are empty and colorless. I have it worse off... I actually have a sense of how you mortals view time, and how to act accordingly. To give you an example..."
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| − | Monkey crouches, watching the woman, and smiling as he realizes that she is a woman after all. ''Ah, the truth of Exaltation... power wrapped around mortal thought and fear and hope. So amusing! '' "I had requested for a good friend of mine to bring some much-needed military support to this area... he is one that craves battle, after all, and he would gladly throw himself at the forces of your enemies." ''The fool better not die, though. '' "But... he thinks and moves as a raksha normally should. Even now, I imagine he's waging some power struggle with some of his lieutenants, or trying to woo more allies into his fold with dreams of glory or perhaps blackmail and threats."
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| − | "It is fun, but it takes so long... if he arrives in a month, I will be shocked. But it is that need to do '''something''' that causes this. We stave off banality with activity, with action, as our Hearts require of us. It is simple, really. You mortals are similar, if only more able to bear boredom."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I hope he doesn't arrive with a gigantic horde after the battle is over and decide fighting us works just as well." She says dryly, tilting her head to one side in exasperation.
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| − | "Actually, my kind live forever." Selina says, abandoning the topic of Days' ally. "We have been ripped out of the cycle of life -- we are in a sort of stasis so to speak. Living, but because death has passed us over. Never aging."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I know of deathknights, Dark Angel. I know more of Creation than I rightly should. And while I do not know the secrets of that path, I find those willing to walk such a path admirable, in a way." Monkey kicks a pebble into his hand, looks at it, flicks it away.
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| − | "Existance needs all things. It needs saints and sinners. It needs joys and terrors. It needs angels and monsters. Those that are willing to take the role of the 'bad guy' are at the very least worthy of praise for their intestinal fortitude. It is not easy to decide to go that way, to be in the camp of that which stands against Creation. Being born into it is a touch easier... I should know."
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| − | No smile, this time. Only a serious, perhaps observant look, Days leaning against a lamppost.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Your smile disappeared." Selina observes, looking at her -- ''him, what? '' -- and raising an eyebrow. The rage moves a bit higher to the surface, and so does the embarassment. She thinks that outfit is amusing, doesn't she? "Am I that amusing with my emotions right now? Or is it just this bizarre thing I am wearing?"
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| − | "I am a sinner and a saint, to clarify. I am the world's ending if it does not repent."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It's vanished because I am watching you. Not your soul, not your emotions, you. I will admit that you are quite easy on the eyes at the moment, but for now there is more to be had than just a cheap thrill and something to think about later. As for... heh."
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| − | The latter bit makes the smile return. "I can believe you. I imagine there are a few fomorians I have had the displeasure of meeting that would love to help you drown it all in infinity... but you don't strive for what the unshaped want, I imagine. You are no Crusader, you are a finger of the End... yes? But... that leads to the question of what exactly is Creation's terrible sin, for which it needs to repent."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Infinity may be found in the Void as well. No one knows what happens after it devours you, where you go. And if they do, they aren't telling." Selina says with a shrug, emotions cooling down again. She can take appreciation better than amusement, right now. "As for why: the world is unjust. There are slaves and those fate spits upon -- to put in your terms: theirs is not the lot of glory. To make it just needs...well, we will see what it needs."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' There is a long, long pause... and then Monkey laughs, deep and loud.
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| − | "If that is the sin, and you are the executor of judgment, I do believe Creation has little hope. Those who rule this place like it as it is... they adore the prayers, te servitude, the sacrifice. Even Iron Tears, as just as he may seem, is cut from the same cloth. Without devotion, he is nothing... and there is a fine, fine line between being a just leader and a clever tyrant. Few godlings know or care for the difference, and I have yet to meet one that exhibits this knowledge fully. Then again, I imagine they want nothing to do with raksha... we did nearly obliterate this place, so long ago..."
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| − | He trails off, looking up. "... everyone should have a chance to rise, to shine, to kiss the Sun and come away alive. Not the right, but the chance... those who have the Heart to seize upon it will rise, and those who cannot will stay where they wish to stay. You cannot make fine china out of dirt and piss, after all." He focuses on Selina again. "... in a way, I may have misjudged you some. I am still wary, but perhaps you seek something that I can at least agree with. Only time will tell what comes of our wishes, however..."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You think so?" Selina asks curiously. "You think you misjudged me? And it is because we have a petty little god for every nuance of rape and murder and slavery that such things continue with such...vigor."
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| − | "Or maybe not. I am sure you fae have just as much injustice as we, in your own way."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "There are more layers to you than I had first thought... this makes you both more intriguing and more dangerous. Both of these facts please me." The smirk widens. "But those factors exist... suffering must be, pain must be, or there is no balance to the muted chaos of what goes on in Creation. Existance is an incomplete whitewash of joy without any threats to make that joy worthwhile and worth struggling and dying for. Instead... it must be that the balance must be kept from tipping too far in either direction. Perhaps this is not 'perfect' as you see it... and I imagine you may find it odd for a faerie to speak of balance, but balance means that I can experience '''everything''' that there is to experience. And as for our brand of injustice..."
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| − | Days shrugs. "It is different when you exist in a reality where death is a dream, but slavery is the worst terror of all."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I would prefer death to slavery." Selina says with some manner of assurance. "Except that no one can keep me held forever. Once you have been broken, there is nothing to lose by throwing it all to the winds to destroy your slaver."
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| − | "Experience everything, eh?" She asks him, poking a finger in his direction. "That's why you were dallying with Fiona?"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ''You and I are not so different after all, Dark One. ''
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| − | "Naturally, of course. My Cup---my desire to want and to be wanted could not allow me to act any other way." His ears wiggle, just a little. "You really didn't have to cut it short... I wouldn't have harmed her at all... she's such a precious little sunchild, and so brilliant of heart and soul! There's a kind of beauty in such a nature, even if she is previously... ah... trained."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Your 'Cup', you say? I wonder. A cup that others place their desires in, a cup that others drink from, or a cup that traps them?" Selina muses out loud, then grins and pushes away from the wall, activating the rainbow 'feathers' of light from the back of her outfit's bottom. They shine against the wall, beams of multicolored light, contrasting against her black wings. "Maybe a bit of them all. I was merely...wary then."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It is... a part of what serves as my being, I suppose you could call it. And indeed, it is all that and more." He doesn't move, but pauses to admire the most intriguing outfit. "If you are not wary of someone such as me, then you are either a fool or certain that you can deal with me with little trouble. Wariness and reservations are natural and healthy. In a way, I do not welcome complete trust... it's less fun when we see eye to eye all the time, after all." Snow Monkey winks---whether or not he's serious is hard to tell.
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| − | "Still... I have to wonder what could have been... it is only natural, even for one such as myself. Wondering solves nothing of the present, though... and right now, the present is an open book, waiting to be read."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina chuckles. "Oh, it'd been a 'cheap thrill', yes?" She asks with some irony in her voice, curtly moving her rear from one side to the other to sway the light-rainbow tail, as if to make that a period to the sentence.
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| − | "That powder you gave me, I notice you didn't include 'submission'. Afraid I'd give the Pale Angel some and implicate you by association?" She grins ferally with that.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Hah! Well, sadly, it's not that powerful... 'tis only the experience and the sensations, although I imagine one such as yourself can add onto that well enough." He mirrors the grin, eyes twinkling with mirth and a touch of naughty intent. "As for blaming me... what's life without challenges? And... now, now! Perhaps a mere look would be cheap, but certain other things would be worth their weight in orichalcum." He leaves it, wisely, at that.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina pouts faintly. "So it would not make people submissive...just give them some submissive feelings." She sighs. "Oh well, better lust then. I can use lust. Though it's not as if I'm going to take advantage of someone...wholly."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Mehehehehe... well, at least you're honest about who you are. It's hard to find people who can be that way." Monkey takes a moment to look at the sky, black as it is. "I am curious, Dark Angel, and I wish to ask you something. What do you see when you look at me?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You?" Selina muses, looking at Days. She moves further away from the wall, walking to him, walking around him, looking him up and down. She dives into the Trance and views with her essence sight as well, gauging the faerie. Then she steps back. "I see...well, what does it matter how I phrase it exactly?"
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| − | "I could get technical, but technically, I am no normal native to Creation either." She says in a considering fashion. "Neither are the Chosen. I see...a person, I suppose. Made of different things then me. I am made of flesh and death essence, you are not. But in the end, a person with different goals. Thing, person, whatever. All the same. All things are strange if you think about them enough."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Hehheh... perhaps. But let me tell you one thing. At the very least, Creation is not too hostile to your existance. For me, there is only one thing that stands between me standing here and admiring your hips... and being crushed into nothing but raw Essence. I am a being with goals and thoughts and wishes. But I am and perhaps will forever be the enemy of Gaia... unless I can do something about that, of course." An evil little smirk plays along his lips. "
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| − | "Until then, I am the walking, talking lie that you see here, working diligently towards becoming something more real that what I was the day before."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I cannot respire essence." Selina says simply, then shrugs. "I suppose whatever stabilizing effect plagues you is worse then what I have, but most of Creation considers me an enemy. I doubt asking Sol and whoever else is in charge would change that overmuch."
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| − | "As do your people, I would think." Then she smirks. "I would think you've seen better hips, given that infinity means there are easily more beautiful and desireable fae than me."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Does it matter what I have seen before? Only the moment is real... and right now, I know what I see." He cackles, moving off of the pole. "We may be predators, of a sort, but perhaps we are the sort smart enough to not horn in on each other's turf... in all honesty, I do not seek enemies, as they're more than able to seek me on their own. Allies, on the other hand..."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' ''So she's hitting on me. ''
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| − | It amuses her, makes her feel threatened, and excites her. No weapon, dressed in something designed only to titilate, and around someone who eats souls. Or can. A heavy lure indeed, and one that drives back the rage, and most of the embarassment. But not all.
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| − | "So tell me then:" Selina asks, withdrawing to the shadows, waiting to see if he follows her. "Do you want my hips to be those of an enemy or an ally, once you have them pressed up against yours?" Her tone is sly, teasing.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' His only reply is a steady, firm series of steps forward, all smiles. ''If I'm going to walk into the mouth of Nothing, I'm going to do it without hesitation. Besides, she might teach me a thing or two. ''
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| − | "I would like them to be both... an enemy that striives and struggles against... and an ally that works with seamlessly. But I suppose what will be lies in your grasp... I am merely a momentary flicked of madness in this cold, cold world, looking for a place to shine..."
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| − | In a way, he was at her mercy. In a way, we was at his own. The risk of being with such a woman was tempting, frightening, delicious. She was merely teasing him now, but that only made him all the more focused on turning teasing into something else entirely.
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| − | "I said I would do my best to make this little moment of annoyance worth your while. However that may be... we shall see, yes?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She raises an eyebrow at Days, half-way within the darkness, coy and deadly at the same time. All cloaked in glittering gold...in places, anyway -- the rest is pale as death (though the Pale Angel is far better for that, she realizes at that moment).
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| − | ''Oh she'd look delightful. ''
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| − | ''And be so delightfully embarassed by the look. ''
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| − | But beneath the surface her heart beats quicker than before, the emotions roil a bit more excitedly, less so than the dreary depression of before. "Hmm. Struggle. But seamlessly? You are one kind, and I another." She says with an almost taunting whisper of shadow in her voice, seeming to fade back into darkness somewhat more, the rainbow light of her faux peacock tail still visible despite that.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "And is there not a kind of beauty in that? Life is full of variations on a theme, so fine and detailed than each never resembles that basic core ideal that connects them all with a thin silver thread." He stops, although the look of sheer amusement remains in place and the fire in his mind doesn't quite flicker out. "I say that trying to seek one like yourself is dangerous as best. There is only room for one original story, after all... and similar stories will fight to be the one that remains. It is easier for differing ones to mingle, share ideas and such."
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| − | He can't help but wriggle his eyebrows. "But enough of me spewing euphemisms... perhaps it would be best for me to simply bask in the moment. I'm sure you're doing the same, in your own unique way."
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| − | ''Tempting and dangerous... this is why the other tolerate her, not fear. Such airs are a drug even to the Exalted... fitting, really. The normal things must not appeal to them much anymore, once a sliver of a god resides in them... ''
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Turquoise eyes shine out from the half darkness -- not as brightly as they can, granted -- as she watches the faerie. "You don't want to come into the darkness, I notice. I am not afraid of the light, if you are thinking that. But if what I think is going to happen, is what will happen, it is not the right of others to have a view of it."
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| − | ''I was the light once. ''
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| − | "Or do you want the light so you can see me for what I am?" She finishes with a teasing, insinuating question.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Perhaps I do not want the light to see me for what I am... or what I say I am, anyway." He shrugs, faintly. "You are a most intriguing being, but you've done nothing that would warrant me wishing to shine a spotlight on your personal matters. If anything, I respect little hidden secrets... they make life all the more daring and mysterious."
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| − | ''The darkness. To step forward is to walk into her world, her domain, her clutches. It is a terrible risk, Snow Monkey. Would you? Could you? ''
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| − | "And... while I admit I have a notable lack of mortal modesty, I can understand it being in others..." With that, he continues his approach, steps steady and even. "And I don't exactly fear the dark, Angel... although maybe you can make me think better of it?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "The darkness is searing in its cold and freezing with heat." Selina says in a malevolent whisper, the shadows retreating from her just a bit. "As unnatural as your chaos, to be sure. When the two meet...who can say? My purest of energies melt the Wyld, I have found."
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| − | ''Sword and sheath, ahh, the imagery. ''
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| − | ''And both opposites. ''
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| − | "My modesty is a strange thing, even to me. Sometimes thin as gauze, othertimes heavier than the deepest snow." Her stance faintly alluring, she beckons him further with a wicked faint smile. "I cannot know it -- or maybe I wish not to."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "The Wyld bends before much. Creation, without protection, crushes us in seconds. A mere beginning Charm from the weakest of Exalted can stop the most world-shaking of shapings cold. Essence does not flow into us here. It is only our immense will and our flood of deeds that stand on equal footing with those Gaia smiles upon."
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| − | He continues, not hesitating as his foot crosses into the half-shadows. "But I am only one sliver of Chaos in the hand of the North. But... I am a sliver that dares to try and be more than what I am supposed to be. This is why I am here. This is why I fight. This is why..."
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| − | Soon enough, he is within the ink, only his eyes and the charm around his neck reflecting what little light there is. "... this is why I am here, right now. Because if I do not dare... I do not deserve to exist."
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| − | ''Brave words, Wyld Child. Let us see what these words bring forth. ''
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Then you'll dare this." The Windian replies, her senses sharpening without her having to dip into any of her simple magics to do so, almost as if the night within her is responding to the chaos within Days. Not quite like it responds to the moon inside Seventh Moon, granted, but that is less opposite energies. Less the meeting of opposing tidal forces. Her skin pricks as she moves forward a pace, up against the faerie. Some of her is covered, but what is not seems to feel a faint tinge of electricity from the contact. That fades, as her magical system gets used to it.
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| − | She chuckles wickedly, voice low, looking up into his eyes with her own turquoise, now burning a slow fire. "Oh, the fight is upon you."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "How could I not dare?" The tingle and interplay of energies is not lost on the faerie, his own Wyld essence not exactly sure what to make of the unusually empty Essence of the being touching him, save for sending spikes of panic through his mind. Hollowdevourdeathnightvoidflee---and then silence, as Monkey reins in his Graces and takes one hell of a chance. One finger, coming to rest on her shoulder.
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| − | "It is not my nature to readily back down from... a fight." The finger finds itself close to the junction of torso and neck. "Battle excites me. Completes me." Mid-neck, and rising steadily, until with a gentle sweep along the line of Selina's jaw, the tip rests under her chin, craning it up slightly.
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| − | "Life should be excitementt. Danger. A moment full of moments... and it takes more than one to battle, Dark Angel." His words are laden with... not quite desire. More... raw excitement, pure eagerness. Perhaps it's not the prospect of bedding her so much as it is the thrill of getting there in the first place...
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Heeh." She giggles in a low and sneaky tone, then quickly dips her head down and bites the finger. Not very hard, certainly not enough to break skin, but her eyes remain focused on his expression. Then she tilts her head to one side, looking back up. "Ah, the excitement is your drug, so to speak." Selina leans forward, pressing her body against Days' more firmly. And a few flecks of absolute darkness show against the backdrop of her turquoise eyes, swimming in the sea of greenish-blue. "But you're not countering it yet."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Now, now... why should I, when the moment is such that I can simply enjoy it! But... I should take the chance to strike while the iron's hot." He sees the darkness in her eyes, and perhaps the only sign of his registering it is a glimmer running along his own smooth brass spheres. Then, of course, he carefully plays splayed fingers along the Angel's sides, in a bit to wrap his arms around her and perhaps let her feel for herself what lies beneath his false skin. This close, the unusually faint chill of his breath is obvious, as is the fact that he's surprisingly loose for someone attempting to embrace a deathknight. But there is something else... the pulse of an unusual Essence... different, more ordered and yet not quite like that of a soul. The pulse plays like the drumbeat pulse of a racing heart, the timeless rhythm of colliding hips and the exhale of a grateful slave, well-used and happy to have been of use.
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| − | That close, Selina de Windia feels the emanations of the Child's Cup as it takes center stage, held high and waiting to catch the forbidden, ink-black wine that it is mere moments away from.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' That pulse reverberates through the deathknight, echoing in the emptiness which is, in more than one way, part of her. "Hot and cool and everything in between." She says with a purr, feeling that odd shift in the essence of the faerie, an odd compellingness to it now, radiating into her through the fingers on her sides. Such odd eyes Days has.
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| − | ''But then, so do most of us. ''
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| − | Oh, how it would feel when he did more than this. Unbound chaos against Order so strict it stifled all life. '''He''' senses it, albeit dimly, through the refracted and reflected vantage of His servant, though much of the empty forever suffering that would filter back is muted. So she slides a hand around him, pulling him tighter against her, another reaching up and encircling his neck. No pulse of blood and life there. The Dragon -- twisted by her darkness as it is -- is disappointed by that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "But still iron waiting to be made perfect."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Deep within, the voice of his Sword--the growling snarl of a bloodhungry and war-thirsty Victorious Monkey--was but a faint echo, far far away from the moment. There was only touch, and smell, and the tingle of essence and the sound of her breathing. Hands grow a bit more daring, finding the curve of her lower back and gripping there momentarilly before trekking even further down, muting his own strength---he remembered all too well, when he wore the body of a woman, how the Iron God had tried his best to drill a hole into her, and how she (at the time) was more than willing to help. Now, it was different.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Not a rush to climax, not the sting of iron on skin and the heat of a mighty man's breath on his neck... now, it was the alluring curve and firmness of a woman, and the half-playful dance that would soon lead to a torrid crescendo, two different songs smashing together in harmonious disarray.
| |
| − | | |
| − | A single squeeze down below, and another, while the Monkey's lips find her cheek, then her throat. "Dark One... allow me to pay your beauty the respect is deserves."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' ''At my throat! ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | The top of her outfit used straps instead of going about her neck as her leotard customarily does, so there is nothing to obstruct Days' lips moving down that way. "Pale Angel says the rest is fake." She says in a purr, giving him something more to feel as he does that. And nestling into the faerie's form and caresses, her own hand about his midsection moving down slowly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Ah, but you haven't seen it yet, truly. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' A single, lingering kiss is all he gives... at first, anyway. "Well, I shall have to see for myself, yes?" His grip remains firm and eager, but the somewhat-contained hunger is there. Perhaps for her body, perhaps for release, perhaps simply for the moment to last as long as it can---it's hard to tell which. But what the Angel can determine is that Snow Monkey is indeed paying her body its due respects, his hands roaming about with practiced care, teasing as clothing here, grasping momentarilly at bare flesh there. They even play about the base of her wings, almost curiously.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Quite tempting... but I suppose I shall see how long she lasts. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | The slowness and care of his actions gives way, momentarilly, to a spike of hunger, leading Snow Monkey to brush his lips along the Abyssal's, pausing to marvel / shiver at the emptiness in her eyes before giving her a true kiss, testing those tempting waters as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Soft... ''
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' The monster in her smiles, wrapped in those tight and golden articles of clothing, seemingly vulnerable. A humiliated monster, after her meeting with the starchild and that...woman. But still as razored as ever. She returns the kiss with more heat then she expected, less control. Desire suddenly flares in her all too hotly, but she jerks it back, leashing it by force of will as she does with all other emotions and wants that she has felt gotten too ahead of themselves.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Then she parts, surprised to find herself breathing harder than before. "You..." She begins, then pauses, narrowing the glowing eyes. "Hmm." Selina hums, then moves her hand around his back, other hand pulling him down for another kiss.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Me?" He offers Selina a soft, amused chuckle, even as his lips link with the abyssal's for a second time, matching her heat with a fair amount of his own. One powerful arm finds itself around her, reeling her in even as he himself is pulled in closely, while the other returns to the task of grasping her rump, managing to aid the other arm in reeling her in at the same time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I'm just a faerie..." In the place of a heart that's probably just for show, his Cup pulses regularly, strongly, empowered by the moment and craving more. Snow Monkey himself may be in the same frame of mind as he wheels his tail about, prodding at Selina's attire to determine where it comes apart. "Yes? No? Elsewhere?" What he means is obvious, the words dripping with lusty intent as he purrs them out.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina pulls away from the kiss as she feels him trying to get her out of her outfit. She giggles naughtily. "In something this skimpy and you want me out of it?" The Windian teases with some of that recently stoked heat plainly audible in her tone. "I'm nearly naked as it is."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Although, given that it is an artifact, however spurious...it may not come off so easily. A feature of the design, if one will.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Heh! Well, it wouldn't be much to just shift a bit here and a little there to achieve the desired effect..." He does give it a bit more of a tailprodding before tracing a finger along the not-quite-an-outfit's lines and curves. "It does mold to you well, I'm starting to realize..." A rumbling, vaguely bestial edge has begun to cut into his voice, adding heat to his cold breath... and making his own steadily-rising feelings evident as well. If they're mere copies of the real thing, it's impossible to tell at the moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Just a bit here and there, indeed.." He parts a bit from the Angel, if only to run both hands up from her read and around to come at a stop right at her chest. "... I must admit, this is quite fun."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' The heat flares in Selina as she feels his hands shift across her body, running up to her chest. That odd feeling from the faerie increases, an almost animal like one...of course this only quickens her the better. "It'll shift some." She purrs, arching back a bit as his hands move across her, then realizing some people might actually be watching.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Unlikely, but...
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| − | | |
| − | Selina quickly looks first in one direction, than the other. Partially into the shadows they are, and not standing in the middle of the street. But still.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Of course, if someone was watching, it might just excite her more.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She looks back to him, slanted naughty smile on her lips as the hand around his midsection unwraps itself, moves down the front of his chest, down his stomach, slowly. "Oh, here and there. So many places."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Well, where to start..." He does catch her movement as she looks left, right, but can only grin, a growling purr working its way up from the belly as he considers just why she did that. Monkey had little shame anyway, and could perform in front of thousands if need be... but for now, this was a two-person show, and it was about time he got things started.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Here is good." Fingers slip around, dig under the orichalc-enhanced top, lifting away while feeling the strange tingle of Essence not quite wanting to let the bond be broken crackle along his digits. All the while, he notes her hand caressing his chest, smooth and chiseled like a masterfully-crafted statue---obviously the master in this case was Days himself. Muscles tense and he exhales faintly, even while getting that pesky top as out of the way as he can manage, grin wide and eyes glinting with an ever-growing hunger.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''I will have you. You will have me. And I will make certain you do not forget this night, Dark One. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' It lifts...to a point. The bottom curve of her breasts are revealed by the garment, followed by the rest...though it remains on at their tops. Skin prickles just a bit in colder air, but she is already excited by the entire thing. "Mmm, yes." She murmurs, pressing up against him again, rubbing the bare flesh against his chest as her hand moves ever downward where she keeps the distance between them greater.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Or maybe you'd rather something else. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Excellent." He takes a moment to behold that which is revealed, even pausing to run his thumbs along the tender goosebumped flesh before he is once more chest-to-chest with the alluring Abyssal. Once more his capable hands slip around and back, encircling her waist and playing their tips along the curve of her backside... perhaps in 'retaliation' to where her hand's venturing. "Most excellent." Not drawing her lower half any closer, he busies himself with her hips, almost seeming to figure out their dimensions by touch alone.... which would explain why his fingers occasional dip beneath the semi-magical fabric there, if only for moment after teasing moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She doesn't touch him ''there'', not yet anyway. Instead, she circles fingers over his hips, down the outer thighs, first one, then arcing over the lower stomach to the other. "You're a good toucher." She says with a few hints of shiver from said touches, withdrawing her upper body from that vise she's got on him. "Too good, even."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Selina's breathing grows more and more shallow, flush creeping into her features from it all. "Or maybe I'm just very excited." She adds with a bit of embarassment, her own tracing with fingertips faltering for a moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It's alright, Dark Angel. Less thought... more sensing. This is, after all, the business of allies..." All ten fingers find themselves underneath the lower half of the garment, momentarilly grasping as bare, warm flesh... before they suddenly withdraw, his own hands coming to her waist. "And... there are a few benefits to being faerie." He proceeds to sink, slowly, even as his head cranes in and his lips drag and kiss and suckle at what exposed flesh they come across. His little trek ends with him on his knees before Selina... it's hard to tell if the posture's submissive or simply sex-starved, but he looks up at his impromtu mate for a second...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ... and flashes her a slight, dirty smile. "... and I like to do business properly." His lips find a spot just above his ultimate goal--even with the outfit in the way, he makes certain she can feel it, as well as the hands that've resumed worshiping her hips and thighs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina's faintly glowing eyes are wider now, in both surprise and the sheer excitement of the moment. Now the shivers are more consistant over her body, the heat rising steadily in her...and the thrilling feel of it all. "Y-yes." She says hesitantly, feeling his lips trail down her body. Most don't get her like this. Moon is one, one of the few in awhile. Evidentally, here is another who can. Though in a different fashion.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And in the back of her mind, a little voice says, from a calmer place unaffected by the heat of the moment. '''And he hasn't even got around to actually Ravishing'''
| |
| − | | |
| − | Looking down at him at her waist and below, reaches a faintly trembling hand down and moves the bottom to one side for him, even as he caresses her hips. Her voice is hot, smokey, sultry, but in as much of a meek and expectant fashion as it is with the tinge of determined-to-be-in-control dominance and teasing. "Y-you really...like that part of m-me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I find all of you most delightful. This part just struck me as the best place to start." He pauses, perhaps to heighten the tension of the moment, perhaps to simply watch and feel her slight shudders and the growing warmth of her body. Within, Snow Monkey finds himself most intrigued by it all.... aroused, hungry, and yet... impressed. ''Deep within, she is still a woman, and still a being. Perhaps she has truly chosen her path, and not the other way around... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''But there is only the moment, and in this moment there is a tantalizing woman who is more than ready to be finished... repeatedly, if need be. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "If there is time enough, I suppose I could give the rest of you similar attention." As she reveals his target, he cannot help but chuckle---Monkey himself is beginning to show a strong flush, although that seems to be the only outward sign of his eagerness to please. Actually, no... there is another sign shown, as he leans in to dole out a single, lingering 'kiss', long and heated.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina stops looking down, though her now free other hand goes down to Days' hair, grasping it lightly as he kisses her. Her breath catches, but she keeps herself steady, meeting his leaning with a steadfast stance, despite her trembling. Of course, it does not hurt that he is holding her from moving back, either. "Naughty k-kisser..." She breathes hotly, savoring every second of that lingering attention focused on her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The mind doesn't think, so much as send little flashes of need, of wants, of desire. Aware of the partner, wanting more and more. Knowing she'll soon get it. Wanting to caress him as bad. And occasionally, imagining the picture she must make at the moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' His initial reply is a second, lingering kiss, ending with a flicker of tongue and a breath of cool air. After that, he can only growl, softly, a sound coming from the belly and working its way up, bringing bunches of naughty intent up with it. "... I try." He returns to his task, offering her a third kiss... and then a fourth, lingering more and more each time, until he merely parks himself into the proper position and goes about seeing just how much noise the Dark Angel makes when worked on. He hasn't forgotten his grip, and only reinforced it with a clasp or two, reminding her that while he's content to give her pleasure, he is a beast on a very short leash.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''... heh, divine, these feelings. I could do this for hours... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' The Dark Angel is fairly quiet, only the occasional whimper or small moan coming from her, even when the Snow Monkey begins to truly try her. When at last he manages to bring her to the edge of the Void and then tip her over it despite her squirming, she gives him a bit more... And tugs his short leash as she does, small whimpered demands escaping her lips.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And then she finally looks down again, panting hard, not so wide-eyed now. But very attentive to him all the same.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Some do this to her. They make her want to wrap herself around them. They make her want to give herself to them. They make her want to put herself between ambition and achievement, and submit herself. Those desires flash through her mind slower now, tempered by embarassment, by the desire to chain him, have him able to do this whenever she wants. A short leash made permanent. But even that would give him power over her, and so the submissive wars with the dominant even stronger.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "You succeed." She says huskily, sultry and winded, panting, eyes alit with partially saited desire.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' There is a long, perhaps pregnant pause between him showing his understanding of her statement, and him pulling from his position... albeit after a final, parting brush of his tongue. He remains there, on his knees, for a few moments, still in the Angel's grasp and seeming to try and figure out what's going on in her head. He makes no outward sign as to having figured anything out as he rises, delicately wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But it is not enough. I can tell that much. Still... as I've said before, I am more concerned with your own experiences this night." He presents himself in all his glory, looking eye-to-eye with Selina, almost as if waiting for an order. "Tell me... what is now that you crave?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''To take, to give. To accept, to return. The Cup is the eternal play of favors and promises, nows and laters. I think you are aware of this, Dark One... but I also think you have not had enough. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Her gaze is turquoise sin now, despite the hesitation and embarassment that tug at the edges. Despite the panting. She is not finished, oh no, it is as Days thinks. "Tell me what you crave." She orders, in a sure tone, still recovering from his treatment of her behind that. "Do you wish to please me again...or is it something more...possessive?" Selina finishes with a razor-sharp purr.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I wish to please you again. As am I now, as we are in this moment... I ''need'' to. It is like instinct, almost." The Cup's pulse grows stronger, and he scans her frame once again. "Perhaps I am merely being foolish and thinking this will matter in the end... but I don't care. The moment is now, and I have decided." He approaches again, close... very close, and his embrace is steel and silk and heat and hunger... and the most prominent sign of his desire can't help but be noticed, given the close proximity.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Would you like for me to continue? My Cup is not yet full..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina shivers from that, the thrill of being desired that much...or is it that? Well, that is certainly high in it, it seems. "Then fill it." She replies in a softer tone, still sinful, eyes still alight, but considering more.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Although I would like to kiss you while you do so." The Windian finally replies, the desire for closer contact escaping her at last. "You must be kissed fiercely while you do that." She adds, hunger in her voice now as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' He does not reply. He does not even blink. There is merely a bit of motion below the waist, and then he proceeds to draw her in, chest pressing to chest and his hands moving to keep her firmly in place... before lifting and leading her backwards without a drop of effort. He does occupy that moment of movement by applying his lips to her throat... but the trip is soon over, and Selina de Windia is trapped between a raksha and a hard place.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "This will do." A leg is lifted. Lips home in on lips, kissing, locking into place, almost. Snow Monkey casually flicks the front of his loincloth aside, and treats the Angel to a moment of teasing, applying sensitive flesh to equally sensitive flesh. His own need can only be withheld for so long, though.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Go. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | His motion is smooth, strong, yet controlled. Not the hasty attack of a rookie, but the careful opening gambit of a grandmaster. He does not want to cheat her out of one single sensation, after all. He breathes deeply once, twice... and watches her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina trembles as he does that, then returns the kiss, sure in the kiss, not so sure in what else is happening. But delighting and thrilling in it nonetheless. Then the kiss receeds and she gasps as he moves. "Y-you." She says again, hesitating, savoring that feeling, realizing that now the path is set for a bit. And then she finds what she was going to saw when this, inevitably, began.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Next time you doubt your welcome in reality, Days," She says teasingly, both arms going about his neck, other leg wrapping around him with the first as she settles on him elsewhere. "Just remember this moment of Chaos immersed in Order." She kisses him lightly, then snuggles herself more firmly in his grasp, not needing to brace against the wall for stability so much now. Her tone turns more smokey, appreciative. "You play reality admirably."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Ridden upon and kisses, he takes in every word she has to say, even through the fog of his own raging lust. The corner of his lips quirk upwards, taking all of that as a great compliment... and taking her bottom in his hands to make sure she's properly braced. "I have had a while... to get the act down-pat, Dark One." His own tone is amused, if rumbling and eager, the tension in his muscles evident as he holds off from moving until just the right moment. "Now then... let's lose ourselves for a bit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He follows up with an immediate kiss, and a single, eager second attack. He pauses, relishing in that space of time... and retreats... attacks again. A trading-off of gentle and firm, he varies his initial assault on the woman trapped in his grasp (or is it the other way around?!). Though is submerged, giving way to raw craving and blazing desire, the Snow Monkey focused on the object of all the things flooding through his Cup with a matchless intensity.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He does not break the kiss, though, save to breathe. He remembers her request, and sees to it that he grants it to the letter. He could do nothing else right now.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You found the tempo quick." Selina giggles, feeling the tension in him, wanting him to unleash it on her, wanting him to relieve it with her. "Let's."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She responds to the kiss, hugging herself to him above and below, every inch the alluring and terrible deathknight entrapped, anti-thesis of his kind, the prize to be taken and the mistress to the be pleased. When the kiss breaks, she breathes heavily, when the kiss resumes, she resumes it consumingly, all between the beats of that rhythmic dance Days leads. And when she moans or whimpers, well...he is free to inhale those, and all the emotion that comes with them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' The unbelievably strong 'taste' of those emotions teases Snow Monkey so, almost making him lose control for a moment... but he calms his inner being. His body moves almost on its own, keeping the tempo of the 'dance' at its proper speed while his Cup stabilizes, calms... and quietly accepts the delicious drippings of that moment in-between the space of breaths. It is a quiet, harmless sort of feeding---instead of the vicious tearing of soul and self that his maws normally engage in, this is a passive inhaling, like a gulper shark lazily letting plankton flow into its open mouth. No harm, no foul... and no interruption to the real world, where the Child is busy rutting with the Angel, momentarilly giving her throat a heated, suckling kiss before returning to her tantalizing lips. The dance os lust continued unabated, the pace picking up ever so slowly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''... such a gift... shall not go unrewarded. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina could feed as well...but her feeding is only vicious, only terrible. In a way, despite being more native to Creation than the Raksha, the Deathknight is far more of a monster to it. So she simply takes him, his gift of pleasure, and gives him back the gift of pleasure as well...and emotion. Desire, hot and thrilling, burning kisses for him, urgent pressing of herself to him, naughty whimpers and moans to him. Kind of a rutting, kind of a dance, but most of all a daring thing.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Such a gift he takes, and only rewards with more of the same, grip tightening and pace picking up as his present of passion begins to build to a chaotic, fevered crescendo, the dance steadily becoming more and more of a hunt---Monkey seeks for that one moment of perfect release, while making it his aim to grant his ally, this dark woman of Void and terror, the same. There is nothing else to strive for, nothing else that matters in the tiny little universe built between two beings joined in somewhat unholy congress. Snow Monkey seeks... tracks down... hunts for that elusive quarry, his eyes narrowed and his ears ringing with the sound of the pumping blood that he often imagines he has, as well as the refrain of exhales, the bridge consisting of two creatures passionately locking lips, and the eternal backbeat of flesh striking flesh.
| |
| − | | |
| − | How much time has passed doesn't matter. All that does matter is what he sees before him, looking at her with an eagle's intensity, asking a question of her that needs no words to be understood.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' That universe gets smaller, more enclosed, and her sense of it begins to move in blinding waves. '''He''' senses it then, too, that odd dance of life so foreign to him, and dispenses his displeasure at it toward Selina. The hateful whispers of a dead god fill Selina as new echos for Days to just barely sense, on the edge of his experience as she convulses around him, the kiss she holds with him more frenzied and tighter than most of the ones before, sounds moving up from her throat to his as her world dissolves again into fire and ice, sweet light and hateful shadow.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' The mild sting of night and black and Nothing and Wyldfoe does little to dissuade him from completing his task---although, deep down, his Heart quivers at the touch of the dead-alive god, unable to let go what Snow Monkey himself has already forgotten. There is only the steadily-shrinking reality of the woman in his arms... and that reailty crushes the last of his resistance as she loses herself in the tumble towards oblivion. Once... twice... and he joins her in kissing frantically, nigh-uncontrollably, as he joins her in falling, lancing deep within and pouring forth both physically and spiritually. His own sounds of satisfaction clash with the Angel's, and for the longest time... there is only calm.
| |
| − | | |
| − | For a single, solitary moment, he gets a taste of what being real is like. It passes just as quickly, leaving Snow Monkey embracing the woman in his arms as he calms down---not winded, but nonetheless taking a moment to work through the tailend of his climax.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... well, now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She feels him. She feels him in her. Spent in her. Gasping, panting, eyes alight with greenish-blue flame. No shadow in them now. Her pale blonde hair gleams in what little light is about her, paler than the ghostly witch-fire of the north some of the dead use.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And then she grins, winded but not quite conquered. "Oh, I concur." Comes the chuckle, and she cuddles against him some more.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And the little voice in her head wakes up again. Somewhat amused, as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''I wonder if Mistress would be amused at the irony of this or not. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Now, then. I shall let you rest for a bit, then I'll see if there's anything I missed in terms of pleasuring you." He smiles.... oh does Snow Monkey smile, and the wyld little gleam in his eyes speaks of the very long, very torrid, and very tiring session of Cup-sharing that is to come.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Yes, I think I like you after all, Dark Angel. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----
| |
| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SixthMovement|Sixth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
