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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == The Meal of Your Dreams ==
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Her temporary domain within the manse that the Heroes of the Boil call home is... small. At least to her specifications. She is taller than most, and when a room is built with someone not even six feet tall in mind, things get a bit crampt. Nonetheless, she's made do, decorating the place with little souveneirs from throughout the Boil; a shard of brick here, an artistic-yet-ruined scrap metal chunk, a stone scale from the mad dragon she dueled upon, as well as a lock of hair from her first meaningful kill, wrapped around the cornerpost of the bed within the room.
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| − | ... of course, there are also her two thralls. One fell to lust, the other to abject terror. The former seems willing to follow Snow Monkey to the ends of the world, so long as she rewards him with the treasure between her thighs. The other... the other, she worries about. What she had taken from her has begun to return, and now the Child feels it high time to make that alteration permanent.
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| − | "I am here, my companions!" She peers in through the cracked door, smiling broadly and looking as harmless as can be. "How have you been?"
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| − | '''Snow Sorrel: ''' "Oh, oh, it... it's you!" Sorrel says, leaving Mei's body... a body that is bond to the bed with ripped pieces of fabric, a gag on her mouth, tears stinging her eyes.... Sorrel getting off her and trying to cover himself, a bandage over his arm, "S-sorry, this is not what it looks like...!"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Snow Monkey's eyebrows rise.
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| − | ''You are either a horny little bastard, Sorrel, or there's something I need to know about you. ''
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| − | "Well, then!" She slides in fully, closes (and locks, what good that'll do with Exalts around!) the door... and folds her arms, muscles tensing and foot patting on the ground. "Feel free to explain to me just what required you to do this to her."
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| − | '''Snow Sorrel: ''' Sorrel alks over to Days, his face all contrite, "Oh, her, miss... she, she, I was wanting some, she kept spurring me, then she begun to talk about leaving! Said she would not be a coward, I tried to stop her, and she stabbed me! " He points at the bandage on his arm, "Then I begun to talk about how you would be angry, and she begun to get terrified... so I managed to get the upper hand and tie the bitch up!"
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| − | "She was trying to escape you, Lady Days! I was just punishing her like she deserved!"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Hmmmm. Now, now, dear..." She leans forward, running a finger along Snow's lips, just so. "I can understand tying her up in order to keep her from leaving, but don't take advantage of Mei. That would greatly displease me... " She trails off with a purr, letting silence speak for her. Her finger trails away from Snow as she approaches the bed, shaking her head.
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| − | "And you, young woman. Stabbing my dear friend! Absolutely unacceptable!" She reaches down, pulling the gag out. "Speak your peace, dear. I imagine you have much to say."
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| − | '''Mei of Emerald: ''' "You, you, you ''bastard''!" She yells, and soon follows quite a few dirty epiteths to him. When she stops, her eyes are filled with tears... "He used me, Days! Punish him! Kill him!" She says, fire on her eyes. Less of the fear for her than she apparently did have when Sorrel managed to dominate her.
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| − | '''Snow Sorrel: ''' "Hey, h-hey... hey!" Sorrel calls, visibly worried the Snow Monkey will do it, "It is all your fault! You tried to run, you little bitch! I just gave you what you deserved!"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' A sigh, tired, worried, mildly annoyed, escapes her lips. She sits on the bed, close to Mei. "Sorrel, dear. Come here, sit on my lap. Me and you need to talk... as do you and I, Mei. I need you both to understand something very, very important. Mei, dear, I will let you go if you promise to be a good girl and come sit with me as well." She pats her other thigh, then waits for replies and action.
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| − | '''Snow Sorrel: ''' Sorrel goes, and sits on her lap, trembling a bit... part fear, part a lust still unfulfilled from the used body of Mei, just liberated from her bondage. He sighs as she is, apparently, he loved the idea of having a caged thorn.
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| − | '''Mei of Emerald: ''' Mei does so more hesitantly... "And what is it, 'mistress'?"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' She gently, carefully, wraps her arms around the two, like the wings of a mother hen sheltering her chicks from the cold, harsh world beyond. Both of her charges get a look, intense and quiet; her eyes fix on them, while her true inner being scents and senses...
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| − | To one side, Snow's exuberance, his drive, his quickness to anger and his incredible lust. A lust that, frankly, surprised her at times, and one that she was more than eager to feed; a touch here, a twist of the hip there, a passing caress now and then. The fires had to be kept stoked and ready.
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| − | To the other, the flames of anger, hate, the hunger for freedom that bled from Mei. She was trained to kill, trained to obey, trained in dark things. Still, there was a sort of fear inside her that tantalized the Child's ethereal tastebuds.
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| − | Two young mortals, two savory morsels. And it ha been so, so long since she had actually had a true meal. The urge to glut her maws rose, rose, rose...
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| − | "You are my charges, my responsibilities, my trophies. I will not have you tearing at each other, little birds... there is room enough for you both in my gossamer cage. I assure you... the road ahead will be one filled with mystery, wonder and maddening joy. You will both experience it all with a new outlook on life, and a fresh appreciation for what you are, and what I am to you."
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| − | Her grip tightens, a little; grasping a youtful chest, cupping a bared breast. Closer, she pulls them, so that they can feel the warmth of her frame as she grows more eager... not from passion, but from the thought of a fast-approaching feast of the likes she has not had in years. "You must agree to this for me, lest your days must come to an end one way or another. Agree to it, swear to it, and I will seal your promise with a kiss." She waits, lips parted, tongue wetting them. "... decide."
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| − | '''Mei of Emerald: ''' Mei looks at her, and Days can feel her cringing under her touch. She thinks long and hard, even as the touch bring responses she cannot help but to have, then speaks, "I... promise. I supppose. I promise, Days, to go with you." She accepts, but there is little sincerity in it...
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| − | '''Snow Sorrel: ''' "Yes! Yes!" He says, holding her hand, his other hand having to tense not to between his legs, or the Child's own... "Anywhere with you, Snow Monkey! And as many kisses as you want...!"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' She giggles. It is a sincere one. After all, they are giving her something vital of themselves.
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| − | "So shall it be." The act of sealing the deal is simple enough; there is a strong amount of heat packed into the kisses that she gives, first to Sorrel, then to Mei; a moment of lingering, a gentle bit of suckling, perhaps a fleeting few moments of her tongue pressing inward. Her grip is strong, possessive, hungry both physically and spiritually.
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| − | The real her, the true, vile her, the ugly mass of Essence nodes bound together, finally picks out the scents that it wants, craves, needs.
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| − | The strength that lets Mei struggle, show her anger, lets her dream of escape.
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| − | The force thqat drives Snow's passion, his ardour, his need to sate his flesh.
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| − | 'The power of the will,' the story went. That was when the Crusaders took shape, pushed forward by the insisting nature of the Thief of Words. That same answer to what makes mortal man so brilliant, so dull, so vital, so useless... that same answer was what she sought to devour whole. Her Cup poured forth, and her Wyld nature shouted the greatness of her hunger to the Wills of Snow and Mei.
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| − | ''This Child, this creature, needs what is within you much more desperately than either of you do. Relinquish your self. '''NOW. ''' ''
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| − | Without another moment's pause, her twin maws latched onto their souls, biting, ripping and tearing with inhuman ferocity, pulling free ragged chunks of self-confidence, drive, determination... while leaving the rest intact. The Child wanted the rest to remain... but she did not want her toys to fight back.
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| − | Ever again.
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| − | * And then... it is done, and it is gone.<br><br>Lust, determination, despair, dreams, fear, training, hatred, anger.... all at once pours to the Child.<br><br>Mei falls from her army. And for some reason she cannot understand, she begins to cry.<br><br>Sorrell stays on her grasp... but even his sex drive seems somewhat muted. He stares at empty space... blankly.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Snow Monkey holds them, tightly. She is, however, absolutely unaware of what they are feeling---her own Essence is busy absolutely ripping apart their proffered Will, digesting it with intense relish, the Child shuddering in place as she feels those dreams, drives and feelings pour into her, complete her, make the aching hunger go away.
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| − | Somewhere in the back of her mind, she finds herself feeling for the two... but that voice is crowded out by others. She had been the victor, and they were the spoils. She would do with them as she saw fit. And right now... they had served their purpose in a grand fashion.
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| − | Still trembling in place, she looks to the two, heavy breaths making her chest heave. She does feel some sort of sadness as she beholds their nigh-dream-eaten state... but she lets it wash over her.
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| − | ''I am predator, they are prey. The beast does not cry for his meal. He eats it. And lives. ''
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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