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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == The Grave Dragoness ==
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| − | Her nails go deep in the pale skin, her leg forces between the Windian’s voluptuous ones, her face red, her body aching as much as the one from her fellow Descending Darkness. Her body protected only by her black-and-red lingerie, covered in glistening sweat and dirtied by the Dust of the Mausoleum, Charmaine gets up, breaks a kiss, and looks at the body of the Dark Angel... “I <i>said</i> I would rather make you whimper.” She says wickedly, licking the finger whose nail took just a little of the Dark Angel’s flesh, and chuckles, a finger raining over the soulsteel-trimmed black leather... “If all of my adversaries were as you... fighting for the Bishop would be so <i>much</i> more fun...” panting, she'd show a tired and wicked grin... red, sweaty and achy, a lesser mirror of how her passion, fiery as her hair, had left Selina... looking around the Mausoleum with some reverence, wondering if the noble dead of Windia enjoyed their show.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "H--" Begins the Dark Angel, then she gasps as the other sinks her nails into her for a moment, blushing and panting from the aftermath. "Heh. Don't forget...what I made <b>you</b> do."
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| − | Her voice is breathy, as if she's trying to catch up. "And don't...expect that from the other..." Selina gives a razored, tired smirk to Charmaine, admiring the woman she just ravished, and who just ravished her, body aching just as much, scratched quite a bit more.
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| − | <i>So vicious...</i>
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| − | "I'm afraid if she ever feels heat, it's during a fight." The Dark Angel finishes, sitting up, running a hand through the long fall of her pale blonde hair, gown laying across a sculpture of some Durant centuries past, with only her leotard to cover herself.
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> "Ooh.... how could I forget?" She says, remembering the noises the pretty made her do... eyes in distant wonder for a moment. "You should come to our side, Dark Angel... such a ravishing death. You really understand it... without forgetting how to be so.."
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| − | "Oh?" She says, making a pouty face that seems almost innocent, like a child denied eating candy before the meal. "Quite a pity... I heard such great things about the Pale Angel!" She says, straightening her hair and getting down to pick her heavy robes with some reverence absent when she cast them away, and let Selina almost rip them from her body... "I suppose she will have to wear the choker and be made to know these pleasures, then. One to properly... preach to."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I prefer to remain independant." Selina says simply, standing up and walking over to her discarded gown in a swaying, alluring walk. "However, <b>you</b> should have ended up serving the Lover." Chuckling sultrily as she picks the dress up and looks back at the Vestal, she'd continue. "Not for me, you see. I'd just enjoy the prospect of Pale Angel being tickled like this...frequently." The Windian licks her lips, remembering forcing the other deathknight to the surface of the seplucre after peeling her robes off, forcing some of the nicest sounds from the woman, almost <i>desperate</i> sounds. How she'd <i><b>love</b></i> to make Vorpal do the same.
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| − | "The little harridan thinks she's a queen -- she wouldn't know what to do with blue blood if she had it." Selina mutters to herself, looking at the Vestal's shapely body, imagining Vorpal's there...under her. Or on top. Selina was never picky about such things. So long as she was able to make that alabaster angel moan, she wouldn't be picky about it. "Someday, I'll..."
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> "The Lover? Oh, I would love to be at... <i>diplomacy</i> with her. But not serve her, oh no... you think this is the totality of my existence, Dark Angel? Oh, nooo..." She says, dusting her robes and looking around, "Look around you. It's <b>death!</b> A sacred, holy thing. We exist to promote it. My little subordinates, they pray with death after I am done with them. Those who hear my words inside their souls do the same. I live for it, Dark Angel - to spread the word. I do not lie to my desires, and I will be moaning as wonderfully as I did with you when Oblivion is upon me - but I <i>will</i> work toward it. And the Bishop is the only true way, and your employer... simply a rebellious apostle who prefers <i>just</i> the flesh.. and forgets her real mission."
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| − | Her eyes are fanatical as she steps foward, caressing Selina's face, looking inside her eyes, "You know, do you not? You knew what it was when you accepted it, <i>assassin</i>! To craft death, to wield essence for it. When you kill, don't you feel that... that longing, that desire so this pain would end? You would not say yes to the Void if you didn't understand the pain. The loneliness. You want it when you see lives vanishing from their eyes, don't you?"Caressing Selina's face and her hair... and the Vestal, albeit too tired to act on it, would seem.. aroused, at the thought of such death... "You should kill the wicked. Dispose of them so the good praise and work for the great kingdom of death... until they are ready for death to swallow everything. You see it when you kill, I am sure. And just like me, you love it... and just like me, you don't deny yourself pleasure while you walk this road. Why <b>not</b> join us? Why <b>not</b> be a messenger of the great, the only truth?"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I wouldn't...say that." Selina purrs, cupping one of the Vestal's breasts over the robe. How she'd enjoy fondling those again...but she has other things to do soon. "The dead gods rule us all, Charmaine. Even a carrion bird such as I knows that much. They rule us...and our masters and mistresses. <i>Absolutely</i>." The last word comes out in a breathy whisper, as if she's in the heat of lovemaking again.
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| − | "The Void is their Creation in death, as this place was theirs in life. They suffer us and our deathlords to exist, because we amuse them, and work for them." Selina presses a bit closer, the siren song of more bedsport calling her once more. "If the Lover -- or the Bishop -- displeased them, I'm sure they would make it known. Remember, if you will, the story of the Princess of Black Feathers and her lord. The dead gods have voices. They command absolutely."
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> "Yes.... yessss...." She would close her eyes and blush under her words, more of her words than her touch, but helped by it... as if the mention of the Neverborn and the Void was ecstastic to her. "And I... meant no disrespect to our great dead masters. But the Shining One is the one true paragon to the Neverborn, the true path to its Void. Our church brought the Void to the West, Dark Angel... while your employer simply brought people to her whorehouse."
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| − | "I am still in awe of how she managed to take the Pale Angel to her, she who seem like such a Paragon of our mission..." She says, shaking slightly, her hands going to Selina's body... "Join us, Miriana. Join us, kill by our side, follow the true mission of the Malfeans..." approaching she would kiss Selina, as if to seal the invitation. A kiss devoid of love, or even gentleness, simply burning desire... still there, even tired as she is..
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Perhaps so. I do...not know so much of the Lover's schemes. It is possible to hide a great deal beneath a facade...hmm? Or maybe she really is a languid trollop, but the Malfeans will settle her if that is true." Selina's smirk becomes a wicked grin as she slides the other deathknight's robe up again. Her eyes are the most predatory they've been in months, she's seen an opening. She <b>will</b> make Charmaine shake the last. <i>No...but...yes.</i>
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| − | "The true command, yes. I know of it." Selina purrs seductively, moving her hand underneath the woman's robe, down to her hips. "Death is not even the ending." Beneath the top of her undergarment, words a teasing touch of the future. "We will all see that day, yes? Together, all emnities forgotten -- the unworthy purified of their sin. Hung in exquisite pain, until the cessation of life renders them fit for that final glory" Fingers plunge inside, dancing, then out. Then in again. She kisses Charmaine with the same desire, lightly, then deeper as her work down below intensifies. "We will be there, and our masters. You, me, the Pale Angel, the Lover, all." Her voice is a mere thread of sound, her body pressed against the other Daybreak, her attentions split between seducing her and pleasing her.
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| − | "You and I will enter Oblvion in the sweetest fashion, extracting whimpers from the Lover as her penance, making her shudder beneath us. Purifying her with whispered pillowtalk chants to our gods, until Oblivion takes us all in that final...rapturous, moment." The last few words pulse with hidden meanings, as Selina's murmurs in her burningly, softly sultry tone, less than an inch from the flushed face of the other deathknight. Seemingly...flushed herself by the scenario she's presenting, and not just by the erotic bits. "Surrender to the glory, Charmaine. As I did under you. My dear faithful knight of the void."
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> "Y..y...yes..." Her voice is husky, a low whisper... picturing the Abyss, picturing their ultimate victory, picturing sweet, wonderful <b>Oblivion!</b>... her legs closing, almost protectively, her eyes closing, her arms wrapping herself... "<i>Yes!</i>" She would shout, almost a growl, almost falling....
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| − | As she does, her face would look... almost cute, eyes closed, mouth gasping in pleasure... in a sweet pleasure over the glory of death... in the form of the Abyss and of the great Deathknight in front of her, as she makes her lust run full course...
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| − | And then, she comes over Selina.
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| − | And hold her, her hands touching possessively over Selina's leotard, <i>"You know, don't you? You understand... you understand!"</i> She laughs out in a gutural manner, her fingers touching the Dark Angel deeply, her nails almost raking her Leotard apart, leather so fine under her hungry nails... "When you knelt down before me, you knelt before <b>death!</b> When I make my pretties kneel down and please me, they are praying for death, they are pleasing death!" So hungry as she presses against the Dark Angel, <b>"We are Death!"</b>
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| − | She shouts again, running the full course of her pleasure twice in such a short time...
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "We are angels of the Void, dear Vestal." Voice hungry and seeming to echo with emptiness as she goes quicker with Charmaine, deeper and more intensely, Selina wraps an arm around her, hugging the panting woman to herself. "Let me show you how much I understand, sweet Charmaine." The Dark Angel purrs, kissing the Vestal as she teases the woman's pleasure further, fingers dancing laciviously, voice breathy. "Mistress of Prayers and Pleasure."
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> And she does.
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| − | The Vestal's fingers moving on Selina, invading the Vestal now... Charmaine's face blushy and enjoying... "Please Death, Embrace Death! Embrace death in my shape... for you will serve death either way, assassin, Dark Angel of death, be on my side or not... but please me so I remember this, yes, yes... please your mistress of the Void!"
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| − | Pressing her body against the Dark Angel's, she gives Selina the nectar she sought so as she whimpers... her own touch, experienced as it is, knowing just wher eto touch from the multitude of girls on her convent - her pretties, her subordinates, who so often pray to the Void in this way... giving Selina the very same apex of pleasure that she os often does to her girls as she makes them cry out the Shining One's name, and her own as a praise of the Void.
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| − | Spent, the Vestal falls on the wall of the mauseleum, smiling at Selina.. "Someday, I will have you and this frigid friend of yours, side by side, yes... both praying to the Void like this. Or even..."
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| − | Long minutes she stays there, panting... and then, she looks outside, the moonlight... time to go. "Well, dearie, I would love to stay more... or even take you somewhere where I can give you the choker you deserved today... and toys..." She says, placing a finger on her mouth, glistening with wetness, and sucking it off it... "..But I have my own matters to attend to. Need to make sure all is ready for our rendezvouz tomorrow. It is a truce until the day after tomorrow then, pretty Miriana? No harm until then, only whimpers. Maybe more on you and the Pale Angel..."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Selina's eyes widen for a moment as her breathe catches, then the moments pass in a blur until Charmaine slides away from her. She herself pants, but the predatory look is only muted now. "Yes...till then..." Wings stretching behind her, Selina gets back into her gown, thinking <i>And so shall be the other.</i> with a smirk. "We will see what happens then."
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| − | <b>Charmaine:</b> "We will see. But I will predict they will be.... <i>most favorable</i> to us." She says, straightening herself, appearing once again like a pure servant of the divine in her modest black robe.... "Remember, Reinbach Temple, Blue Wind, Lower Windia. Be there. And bring only the Pale one with you. So we can conduct the deals of the dead away from the eyes of the living." Her tone is... different now. Ceremonial. Almost sanctifying the compromise. "See you, dearie..." She says, taking a feather from the ground, one of the many ones her violent lovemaking took off the Dark Angel. ".. Take care."
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| − | And saying that, Charmaine turns away, taking the steps out of the mausoleum, and leaving the spent Dark Angel there, covered in sweat, soulsteel-trimmed leotard soaked....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Alone at last, Selina chuckles to herself, deep and throaty, baring her teeth as she looks about the mausoleum. "And the others will be in a safe place." The Windian mutters to herself, not quite ready to leave her charge wide open. "And then what will come, will come."
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| − | Letting her winds lose control for a moment, the assassin allows them to dry the sheen of sweat on her body, then she moves out of the structure, closing its door behind her, belting on her rapier. Time to get back to the inn, and set up this little event. With one last gaze at the ornate headstones of her parents, Selina exits the graveyard.
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| − | Selina walks out in the night-fallen graveyard, she feels the cold air on her face... warm. Once, it was accepting. Once, it was home. Now, it felt like it slapped her face, told her in behest of all Windia, <i>you are not welcome here!</i>
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| − | <b>Darkness:</b> Then, as she heads out of the graveyard... its exit vanishes. The houses around, the nightfall horizon at the distance... all replaced with eerie mists, the sky replaced with... a face. A dark, monstrous face. The same face she had seen in the Its eyes burn inquisitively, for Selina. Deeply at Selina, like she was the worst wretch on earth.
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| − | <i>"Infidel! Heretic! <b>Harlot!</b>"</i> It screams, deafeningly, and then its mouth opens wholly, subsuming the face, and leaving only the Abyss above her, surrounded by eerie mists not far from her parent's graves...
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Sighing, Selina looks up at the sky, narrowing her eyes. "Looking over your servants' shoulders, are you? We made the deal to meet, whatever is your problem?"
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> Selina is replied with a laugh.
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| − | A shade between the graves, only contempt for the Fetters around him with every step - a confident, arrogant smile on his face. His eyes shine, more avian than even a windian's, with knowledge and the inescapable pulse of a hunting bird watching its prey.
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| − | Not possibly human, too much of an avian trait even on a windia.
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| − | His hair falls about him, silvery and appearing to be quicksilver feathers. His body is almost all covered with sleek blue jade, like a clear sky... covered in dark, opressive dragon-clouds that seem made of the darkest ashes. Looking within it... one sees all of him, again, and he seems mightier, grander, like the thunder and lighting of the dragons! And finally, slung over his shoulder is the long, slim, curved sheath of Resplendent Sky, a Daiklave that is almost longer than he is himself.
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| − | "You made a deal with her? She is another harlot. In the world that will be, that face will be the true Shining One, looking down at her and saying the same to her. Abyssals. 'Chosen'." He says, looking down at Selina, his manner arrogant. "I do not care which deal you made with her. She is a harlot as great as you or the Lover. 'Chosen'... you think you can usurp our places? You still live."
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| − | "Well... not for long."
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| − | "You are the coward who struck down White Sorrow, Lord Scout of the Dead Hand, by flying on the air and avoiding the fight, are you not? I am the Black Avian, Lord Assassin of the Dead Hand. May I know the name of my prey?"
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| − | === Dark Wings ===
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Ah. Not the Bishop then." Selina says dismissively, activating her hearthstone as she does. "Merely a ghost, are you? A corpse-warrior? Did I do for you in life, o-fearsome winged assassin? I seem to recall killing one or two of my kind who tried to collect on my head."
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| − | Snorting as she draws her rapier, turning on whirlwind shield to swirl about her, Selina shrugs. "You are but a <i>shadow</i> of <b>me</b>, Black Avian! A child's copy, a counterfeit of the Dark Angel. I transcend you as surely as the Malfeans transcend me!"
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> "Thought as much. These wings could be the result of your Exaltation... but they are not, are they? You truly are the accursed. The words of my illusion really are appropriate...." He says, walking closer, the click of him opening his Reaper Daiklave can be heard.
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| − | "However... no, I am not merely a Windian, <i>child.</i> I was a Dragon long before you were an accursed quickening in your mother's womb. Now I am a lord of the dead. I simply enjoy possessing the bodies of your dead kind... I love the air. I am the lord of the air. You cannot run to it for shelter like a scared child with me around, little girl."
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| − | A quick movement, and his blade comes out of its sheath, violently, the sheath hitting a grave heavily, its loud, muffed noise echoing in the dead air. "And when you die, so will your friends, and the harlot will be shamed in my master's eyes. All will see that the might of the Dead shall remain with the Dead!"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "A mere terrestrial. Is that all you were?" Selina taunts, flicking her gaze around to see if anything else is coming for a split second. "It's time you <i>learned your place</i>!" The Dark Angel yells as she streaks forward quicker than the eye can follow to attack the ghost. Dreamshard slashes across his midsection, then up past his face as she stops in front of the dead assassin.
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| − | Moving quick as lighting, even with a blade so large, its curved length cutting the air in front of him, the black Avian parries, stepping back, his movements light and graceful, even as Selina's words make his eyes narrow. "The Dragon's claws block a thousand swords." he recites. "And they will teach you your place, <i>child</i>!"
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> Saying so, the blade, having turned Selina's strikes aside, darts foward, intent at slashing her beautiful face in half....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Leaning back from the midsection with absurd speed from the first slash, Selina recovers just as the next one comes for her lower torso and blurs back, out of the way, her movements seeming to blend as much into the darkness momentarily as the first dodge did.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> The blade returns over his shoulder, and he narrow his eyes to Selina once again in annoyance as she fades out in the darkness. "You are a fast child of shadows, I will grant you that."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Try not to rip my dress, little dead dragon." She whispers sweetly.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> "I will try not to. It is your flesh I wish to rend." Hawkish eyes narrow as he points his blade to Selina, ghostly essence pouring about him... he smiles, and all around him, reality melts. His wings - dipped in a broth of melted soulsteel and shadow, every feather then engraved with the true name of those who had heroically martyred themselves for the Bishop; lined with their finger bones, and their ghosts woven into the broth - open in dark glory, and he laughs, his laugh going in and out of tone, wavering as reality before your eyes as he seems to not <i>really</i> be there....
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| − | The Black Avian darts foward then, and every time the Dark Angel blinks, he is closer, or farther.... he moves without moving, he is where he should not be. First he appears below her, and his strike upward is aimed at her breasts. A blink away, he is above her, and his strike goes to her wings... laughing, a laugh that comes from everywhere around Selina at once, just like him....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Dodging the same as before, Selina's turquoise eyes widen in surprise as he manages to nearly hit her each time despite her speed in evasion, and each time she barely brings her own blade up to push the blows away.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> His feet hit the ground before Selina as he comes down from his strike, his long Daiklave forcing sparks against the Rapier, his form once again solid, free of the nightmarish energies.... "Am I making you sweat, child? So soon?"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I've just been tumbled, you fool. Of course I'm still winded!" She growls as her aura fills out in crackling splendor around her, the dragon iconic to it roaring at the dead man's face, Selina's weapon blazes with fresh death essence as she brings it across his chest in a thundering strike, shadow guiding it, enhancing the cutting edge, and hindering his riposite all in one.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> Hit by such crushingly strong strike, entropic energy exploding at the tip of the blade, the Black Avian screams as the energy dissipates, as his Jade armor is pierced, sending him back, falling against a nearby grave and gasping in pain....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Excess energy bleeding off of her, Selina gazes at him through the storm of lightning and darkness raging about her, eyes seeming to glow <i>red</i> in tandem with the dragon's, a towering figure of dread, face blank.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> "That is... a great weapon.... Dark... Angel. May I... know... its name?"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Dreamshard." She replies simply, looking about her again in case he has friends sneaking up, then back, voice as blank as her expression. "That is its name. A killer of fae."
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> "I... see. And you deserve the blade." He says, taking a step foward, lucky for the fact the grave stopped his fall, swinging his long blade. "And this..... is... Resplendent Sky... A ...Daiklave... which is the fury of the Air Dragon. You will.. see why."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Aye, I suppose so." She replies, trotting forward and bringing her weapon across his center of mass in another slash, movements quick and precise as the energy from her aura crackles about her.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> He moves his blade, swift, but not swift as before. Quick, but not quick as before, as his spiritual body falls apart, feathers and hair falling like quicksilver, now little more than a melting caricature instead of the graceful spectre he was moments ago, to parry her strike... and misses. sparks flying as dreamshard hits home...
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| − | As Dreamshard hits home, he grins. "I still have the Dragon's scales, Dark Angel!" As he says so, the spirit skin hardens, trying to flow away from her, becoming as scales for a second...
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| − | <i>Oblivion</i>
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| − | The Black Avian looks up, listening to its siren song. <i>Not yet, not yet...</i> Clinging to his corpus, to his undeath....
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| − | <i>Not to this <b>chosen!</b> I have lived so long... I have fought in Saint Vicious crusades! I have lived too long... I won't be turned aside for a chosen.. I... will... NOT!</i>
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| − | "Endless Sky.... give me your grace. Air Dragon... smite my adversary!" He says, slashing the air with his blade, a gust of wind going towards Selina, so close to him, trying to push her far, far away!
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| − | "I will... see you, then, Dark Angel... a worthy foe, you are..." He says, his wings painfully moving, flying above the grave, and towards the false oblvion in the sky....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Gritting her teeth as the daiklave summons a massive blast of wind against her, Selina attempts to stand her ground by main force...and is pushed back against a tall headstone of some ancient Windian noble, her breath knocked from her body. She watches her opponent ascend into the sky on his tattered borrowed wings, dragon gazing balefully at the retreating figure.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "So you can cut my throat in my sleep?" Selina rasps with an intake of breath, holding out her left hand, as lightning forms on the palm and wind swirls about it. "You'd have given me no quarter!" With that, a lance of lightning and wind streaks toward the dead assassin with a thunderclap.
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| − | <b>Black Avian:</b> His tattered wings carrying his Blue-Jade clad form closer to the fake oblivion, towards the safety of his own illusion, the Black Avian sees the lighting, and swears under his breath, as the very power of Mela is turned against him, his form shits as he tries to dodge the incoming strike!
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| − | As he does so, the illusion slowly vanishes, letting the moonlight in.... and so Selina sees a single gravekeeper looking at her with wide eyes as he sees the iconic anima around her....
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>"Shit."</i> The curse has a brand of despair in it as the gravekeeper spots her, and Selina begins to back away, then trips and nearly falls over the raised bottom of the headstone behind her.
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| − | She hears a yelp, and the sounds of footsteps vanishing into the distance...
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| − | Steadying herself, Selina looks about, then sheaths her rapier and waits for her anima to finally die down, then she exits the graveyard as quickly as possible.
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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