Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/TearsForFears"

Revision as of 22:15, 15 April 2006

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Tears for Fears

Iron Tears: It has been a long time since the prince left her. And then, she begun to feel the scent.
The scent of iron.
The heat of the forge.
The sounds of hammer on iron on the distance.

And then he was there, she saw by a stray flock of powered iron in the air. Iron Tears.

His voice was like it was after she heard of the Parishioner. After she had told him. Warm. Protective. "Hello, Sesus Kanti. I hope I am not intruding?"

Kanti: Kanti looks up from her meditations infront of the fireplace, turning and standing fluidly before curtseying for the God of the Boil. Her serene expression falters as she realises just what he called her, though she soon gets it back into place.

"Good Afternoon, Lord Iron Tears." she says with warmth and calm and respect. "You do not intrude, of course."

She hesitates then. "If I might ask, how do you know that name, my lord?"

Iron Tears: The fireplace burns hotter. The warmth of a forge. He responds her courtesy, then sits on a couch, looking at Kanti, trying to see if she was hurt in any way... any more hurt, at least. "Good Afternoon, Kanti."

"I asked my sister about you. And I figured you might prefer this one. Less likely to bring memories at this stage, I do not think. She knows much about you. For a variety of reasons..."

Kanti: Kanti lets out a little sigh as the fire burns brighter, warming her skin. She holds her posture as she does, letting his eyes inspect all they might wish, though she has no new wounds ... on her body at least.

she would know a lot about me, yes.

"I see my lord." She sits next to him on the couch, close, but not so close her screams touch him. "It does not matter what you call me, though I thank you for the thought."

Iron Tears: He looks at her... his eyes flaring, but not in lust. Just warmth.

"I cam to thank you, Kanti. For convincing me like you did. It seems to be something that many will forget..."

"But I never will. I will be sure to tell those like the Prince. Pehaps, he needs to hear the same thing I did."

Kanti: Kanti basks in the warmth of the fire and the warmth of the god, finding him strangely comforting, so close to the fire in her soul.

The prince ... hear ... that?
I am not sure I could bear his pity, and the pain it would cause him on my behalf

"I merely told you what it was you were fighting, my lord. It was your descision to fight." she says quietly "But if it pleases you to tell the young Prince, then I am pleased too."

Iron Tears: "He should hear what you did. And what he is up against, I think." "While you are still here."

"My sister is leaving, after the party. Her child barely convinced her to stay this long. She will go to heaven, and hide there, where it is safe, and try to get support the way she can."

"You should go with her, Kanti."

Kanti: "I will hold your advice close to me on that matter next time I speak with him then, my lord."

while I am still here?

Kanti looks up at him, her well trained face keeping the surprise and the jumble of emotions that statement brings hidden within.

..go back to heaven?
...go back there without him?
... leave her?
... leave Her and never see Her again?

"That is not my choice, my lord, the Dark Angel is my lady now, and I cannot and will not desert her without her leave." she drops her eyes then. "Heaven is not my home or my place any more my lord, not marked as I am." Not when its fires burn me She speaks this part with sadness. So much of her wants to go back.

Iron Tears: "There, the Vestal will not be able to come to you, however. There you will be safe." The forge's heat touches her, the iron touches her cheek. "You are too innocent, Kanti. However puissant, when they begin to use weapons such as the Dark Angel.. when a trap such as the Parishioner's is not foiled like it was... you may be able to destroy too many of the dead, but I fear you when they are not direct."

"And I saw you after Highlane. You were drained. Dead-eyed. Teary-eyed."
"What did the Parishioner do to you?"

Kanti: Kanti presses her cheek instinctively against the warmth, still looking up at the forge god. "It is still not my choice to leave my lord. And even if it were, I would not abandon the Dark Angel, Seventh Moon, the young Prince ... any of them to their fates."
Even if she terrifies me.
Even if he hates me.
Even if he thinks me a monster.

Agony
Ecstacy

"The Parishioner did nothing to me my lord. I am not sure you would understand my tears."

Iron Tears: "I wish I was a Celestial God for many reasons, my dear. But right now, I wish I had gone to the parties, and seen you as you were. My sister told me much of you. She likes you. Even as you are now." But for the profit a tainted dragoness would give. An immaculate no less. And even then, I prefer to give you to her than to let you stay here. "You can try to explain. I have seen much in my watch over this city, Kanti."

Kanti: "I still dance, my lord. I would love to dance for you." she says, trying not to dwell on the memories past. She is calm in the iron lord's presence, the fires so comforting. "She tried to buy me no less than eight times, and that was while I was present. I have been desired in heaven all my life. I cannot imagine what these scars will do to my value there. Of course she likes me, my lord." She doesn't speak with ire, or to critize, merely to explain. "I do not think my lady Dark Angel would approve." she ends with softly.

and how to explain to him?
how to explain the agony?
how to explain the ecstacy?

"I was crying, my lord, at the death of someone I loved. I was crying at my betrayal of someone who I loved, and who loved me in return."

Child of Wyld Days: "Love... you say."

She finds her way closeby with nary a sound, a beast tall and proud and untamed as the Northern winds. She does keep her distance, though... after all, it's the strange, scarred fire girl and the most enticing Iron God talking. Sure, she had butted in, but she would try to take things slowly from there.

"And... I know it is rude to interrupt---Iron Tears, gentle dragon--..." She bows for the two with a flourish and a smile. "... but I hear that you dance, little red dragon. What sort of dancing might that be?"

The distance, for now, remains. Must not spook her... she seems the excitable sort...

Iron Tears: "Child of Wyld Days." Iron Tears smiles. Kanti had him at a loss of words. Yes, his sister would use her as a whore. Pimp her and get all the money she could have. Get every increase she could, out of telling people they can fuck an Immaculate Chosen, and one that felt like the Shadows to boot. Demon-Blooded courtesans were nearly priceless for bondage and other violent activities, Kanti would be even more. Yet... it felt like a safer life. But he would not like to try and convince the Exalted shielding her of that.

And on the love... what could he say? "You are interrupting, yes. But we need to go to lighter topics, I would think. And you are one that, I think, will bring them."

Kanti: Kanti suddenly tenses at the sound of the fey's voice, fighting down the instinctive response to press up to Iron Tears, to press up to the comfort of the iron.

what's she doing here? why does she care that I dance? will she let her feed on me? will she care?

Kanti worries as regards the fae, watching her bow in her strange simian way, though she does her best to keep her expression calm, the knowledge that the fey will know anyway not helping in the slightest.

"I dance to entertain, Child of Wyld Days, and the Raidiant Viridian style has been compared to dancing by many."

Child of Wyld Days: Her ears perk, and something within her pattern tingles. The lazy little grin on her face transforms into an outright smirk, and she closes the distance, just a little. "You speak of this Radiant Viridian almost as if it were a... physical art, I should say." Her smooth spherical 'eyes' fix on Kanti (she will most certainly know that she's being looked at, even if there are no pupils trained on her) before the Snow Monkey crouches, resting on her knuckles.

"Most interesting. I have picked up a few tricks from a sunchild I met many years ago. I know not where he is now, but I thank him for teaching me the ways of war within this shaped land. Perhaps..."

She is afraid. Nervous. I still bother her. Understandably so, but... perhaps there is more to this than just plain fear. We shall see soon enough, Snow Monkey.

"Perhaps you can show me this special dance of yours? I will gladly show you mine in return."

Iron Tears: "And I would be glad to watch both of you. That is a show you do not see much even in Heaven."

Kanti: Kanti freezes momentarily as the strange bronze orbs focus on her, not sure she liked the monkey's overeager attention, not on her.

Why does she want to fight with me?
Is that how she feeds?
I don't think I could stant being empty again...
He isn't here to hold me afterwards

"It is a physical art, yes." she glances around at Iron Tears comment "If it would please you, my lord, I would be happy to show you my dance, Child of Wyld Days."

Iron Tears: He strokes his chin, looking at them both amusedly. "Yes."

"Yes, it would please me very much."

Child of Wyld Days: She cants her head gently, but says nothing more. Her posture, however, betrays something else entirely; total focus. She's practically boring a hole into Kanti with those gleaming non-eyes, paying attention to her even before she begins. It's not a look of lust, however. She looks... vaguely serious, perhaps trying to gauge something.

The Cup and Sword align; need and want link into valor and danger, and the Child is, at that moment, nowhere near the usual flippant monkey-girl cavorting around.

Kanti: Kanti sees the look in the non-eyes, sees the set of the fey things body, and she trembles somewhat at the thought of that terrible and cold monster being anywhere near her, never mind attacking her. She shifts back on the sofa, away from the fae beast.

No...no...no....not...not now....

Then some comprehension seems to come to her, and she freezes herself, letting the strange monsterous monkey study her, letting her get some sense of the fighting art she offered.

Child of Wyld Days: "Hm."

Relaxing a little, Snow Monkey easily picks up on the effect her war-self is having on the girl. For a few moments, her tail thumps on the ground... and then she seems to surge forward. No, not to attack... or not even to touch Kanti. Instead, the tall woman begins to... perhaps it's a dance. The motions are fluid and to some sort of pattern, even if they seem somewhat odd, like an ape leaping and rolling about. Perhaps it is her art; there are moments of seeming stillness that transform into moments of focused, swift action when the eye least expects it. Perhaps it is both... but it seems that the Monkey has decided to show her dance first, after all.

Iron Tears: It is... interesting. Not especially enticing or anything. And... strange.

But the god of the Boil had seen stranger things...

"And you, Kanti? Be at ease. She will not hurt you as long as I am around."

Kanti: Kanti recoils at the first lunge, her hard starting to rise to ward the blow, before she settles again, next to the Iron God.

I don't sleep to avoid the monsters, and they still find me... though she does not say this to Iron Tears ... "Sorry, my lord." she says softly.

Kanti watches the strange monkey dancing her strange monkey dance, and she relaxes somewhat, as she watches the ... oddly timed motions, trying to get a sense of the motions the fey creature will make next, and she rises to her feet, somewhat relieved as the monkey steps back a few paces.

There is pause, and then something seems to change within her. Her postures changes from the half cringe, to something that calls up feelings of sainthood and purest relaxed bliss, no trace of the worry with in her. And then she starts to move, not like the strange monkey thing, with her near random moves ... this was different, an eerie flow through the katas of her style, never stopping, never pausing, all the fears from before lost in the motions of her dance.

For her art truely was a dance.

Child of Wyld Days: In the middle of her cavorting and cartwheeling... she smiles. That's it, little red dragon... come out of your shell and let me see you in all your glory... She manages one towering flip... and lands weightlessly right behind Kanti. The strange, erratic kata of the Celestial Monkey ends there... and she opens her mind and her senses to what she's seeing the broken dragon below her doing---motion after motion, feeding into and following one another like perfect ripples in a pond. She cannot help but pause, for a moment, in sheer awe... and then she chuckles before she... does her best to emulate her smaller 'dance partner'.

"To dance in such a manner... means that you have mastered much. There is more to your motion than just action... there is feeling... and the absence of emotion."

Iron Tears: And it is beautiful.
The Iron god smiles... pleased.

"Your dance is truly beautiful, Sesus Kanti."

The wonder it probably was when she was more free...
I need to see about getting a dreamstone of it.

Kanti: Kanti turns fluidly to face the Raksha as she lands, dancing away from her once more in a series of flowing moves that would have deflected the blows that the monkey might have landed on her. Strangely, the monkey did not phase her now, seemlessly joining into a dance with her, watching her efforts to duplicate with an absent curiousity.

"Thank you, Child of Wyld Days, Thank you, Iron Tears." she says, without breaking the tempo of the dance she moves through.

Child of Wyld Days: Snow Monkey, her Cup held high to take in the elixir of Kanti's dance... shivers. She has felt emotion... felt love. Felt passion. Felt lust. Joy. Kindness. Trust. Affection. Many, many more emotions.

But what emanates from Kanti transcends all that. For a beast that thrives on, devours, craves emotion, the sudden wash of feeling that dances along her metaphysical palate makes her feeding maws water and her body flush, just a little. Hunger---an intense, driving hunger to taste that sweet, sweet nectar makes her fingers tingle and the method of the Heart-Stealing Kiss ready itself for use... but she quashes that hunger a split-second later, much to the chagrin of her own essence. Even with the urge fought down, she damns herself for having something so delicious, so close... the dragon's body doesn't even seem very enticing, compared with that spiritual aroma...

She stops dancing, and breaks away, obviously with reluctance. "I should not continue. You... tempt me, and it would not be proper for me to act on temptation."

Iron Tears: Flocks of iron travel the air between them.

"No."

"No, it would not."

Child of Wyld Days: "... heh, I should listen to my own words." She looks at her hand, and the moment---and Snow Monkey's shift to warthing---passes. She is smirking again, without a care in the world. "I understand she is an ally, Iron Tears. But... what can I say? I am faerie. That will never, never change, and it will probably get me killed or worse, one of these days." Oddly, she's smiling wider as she notes this. "But... what fun is living if you're afraid to live?"

Kanti: "I...am sorry I tempt you." she says softly, as the Monkey Girl stops dancing, feeling just a touch of pity for the alien creature that she would not be allowed to offer it succor, after tempting it so.

I am glad Iron Tears is here, though...

She slowly stops her own dance, flowing once more to the saintlike pose, and bowing. When she rises, she is Kanti once more, and not the spear saint.

She shivers a little at the thought of the fey ever feeding on her, faint pity that she cannot offer it her heart still there ... and she retreats back to the sofa, and the fire, and the iron.

Child of Wyld Days: I had planned to come here and fuck Iron Tears' brains out. Damned complications.

A twinge of... pity? Regret? Actual sadness? Something, whatever it was, flowed through Days, and she could only look at the little dragon and shake her head. She had been feared before.

But this time, it is different. This is no mere mortal...

She had her moments of craving.

But I held back, even though acting would have probably cost me dearly.

She had screwed men in plain view on a couple of occasions.

But right now... the dragon has his heart. I can feel it radiating from him... care. Concern. Love? Perhaps.

"... perhaps I can teach you a bit of my art someday, little red dragon. For now..." She trails off, unsure what to say.

Iron Tears: "You are Faerie, yes. But you are one that has been shown to be more honest than your brethren, Child of Wyld Days. And do not be sorry, Kanti. Come, sit. She will not harm you." He seems... disappointed the Saint is gone. As if he could feel it. "For now... well. What are you two doing until the ceremony? Especially you, Child of Wyld Days?"

You are honest enough to show if you wish to be a hellion, after all.

Child of Wyld Days: "To be perfectly honest, Iron Tears, you were my next... visit, as it were. I had a bit of fun bothering Opal as she was building that one manse..." Snow Monkey fights down a shudder as memories of those strange, tightening sensations return and pass. "... and I figured that I might as well go about having a bit of fun and generating some very worthwhile talespinning material by letting you have your merry way with me." That smile returns... and oh, the things it subtly advertises.

Kanti: "...I would like that..I think..Child Of Wyld Days." she says, carefully, keeping her voice level, though inside her heart pounds somewhat at the thought of spending so much time with the monkey so close.
But she did not try to eat Kanti, and she wanted too...
she won't eat you.

"I am not sure, my lord. My lady Dark Angel has given me no instruction." she speaks quietly, before the monkey, and then listens to what the monkey said.

opal...she was strange...so cold...and so demanding of warmth...

"If I have your leave, my lord, I think I might go to the hospital. I can help there." she says quietly. It was not so much that she didn't want to be there with the Iron Lord and the Snow Monkey but she was forbidden to lay with the god, and the monkey worried her far too much.

Iron Tears: He laughs. Merrily. He gets up then. "You are a bold one, Child of Wyld Days. Not afraid Iron will burn your skin?"

"And before you think of anything, I must say the last faerie that tried to get me in the reins of her glamour... well, she is still alive, but not for long. And Kanti has dispelled said glamour. So be warned, I will look for her."

He walks up to Kanti, "You have my leave, yes. And tell your lady I wish to talk to her later."

Kanti: Kanti rises from the sofa and bows to the lord of the boil

"I shall when I see her, my lord."

Then she turns to the fae thing, and bows once more to her.

"It was ... good to dance with you, Child of Wyld Days."

And then she turns, and doesn't quiet flee the presence of the monkey.

Child of Wyld Days: She watches her go.

She admires her rear as she leaves.

She... sighs. "I do not work glamour that well. Besides, I have no intention of enslaving anyone... I simply want a good time with a good man. And..." She winks. "A little pain in my pleasure never hurt."

Iron Tears: The Iron God watches as the Dragoness goes... oh, if he had her together with the Dark Angel. A tinge of anger for Seventh Moon crossed him. She had offered herself... and was barred from what she wanted by the Lunar. A bird of fire, a bird of darkness, at once... it would have been glorious.

But now, he had a... creature of chaos. A monkey, and yet beautiful like few. He saw Kanti go. The Dark Angel. He looked at the Child. Ran a hand on the snow hair. Touched her tail. She was... different. Strong, built, tall. Nothing like them, or the girls he liked to shelter. But yet.

Exotic.

He pushed her tail, spinning her around, making her back come to his chest... holding her face on his hand. A hot, iron whisper."To tell the Wyld how you took an Iron God into yourself? You are bold, Child."

Child of Wyld Days: She is careful to not come off as too, too eager... although she is more than willing to be the Iron God's model. On display, the odd beauty about her is all the more evident; she is indeed suirprisingly tall, and formed as much in the mold of a warrior as a woman. But the whole presents itself wrapped in a shell of Wyld allure... flawlessly-sculpted musculature, an ample bosom obviously held back by the cloth bindings keeping them in check... and that tail. She laughs softly as fingers of iron go through her hair, even though the touch makes strands here and there seem to stand on end. And, with a push of her tail, she spins right into his arms. Reflex leads her hands to his chest, and she leans into his touch... after a wince. As enticing as he is, he is still iron, and his touch aches, Her inner self curses her for allowing herself so close... but her Cup and her loins quite presently have control.

"The meek get what they are given. The bold get that they take... or are given, as the case might be right now." She puts on a sly, teasing grin, and her tounge flickers out along the Iron God's palm.

Iron Tears: The Iron God, his shoulder broad enough for even a female as strong as the child to fit in his frame, mode the strong arms of a miner to her. The Child can see something in the touch. The feel of touching the enemy. A creature that should not be. And maybe more... more anger. Anger over something chaotic making his grip of her be... strong. He holds her face up, as his hand pushes her back against him. He kisses. His kiss burns, slightly.

"You are in my domain, wyld creature. Here, everything is mine to take." A movement, and he turns her around, pressing her against a wall. The fireplace roars, almost able to melt iron as it is. "But it is all sweeter when they are given."

Child of Wyld Days: Conflict. The Child, in the arms of passion, in the grip of certain death, can only find those odd, odd feelings washing over her quite intriguing... although not worth any deep thinking, as her present task requires her utmost attention. Trapped, as it were, in the arms of a god and quite happy with the prospect, Snow Monkey's hands find his shoulders, testing the god's firmness before his kiss makes her blush, makes her shiver... in mild pleasure, in mild pain.

"I cannot blame a god for feeling such... I---aah!" She is turned, pressed, crushed to the wall. Fingers spread, breath quickens, and the Child looks back... before assuming a suitably willing posture. "... and who am I to deny a gracious guest a bit of honey?"

Iron Tears: "I am solid as iron, yes, Child." His strong arms hold her, the neatly-trimmed gray beard tickling her lips. "You can use all of your unearthly strength. Show me the desire of Chaos."

She is pressed against the wall. His voice is a whisper. Air is scant on the room, as if it was a forge, all hot, hard to breathe, sweat on the Child's brow... "You know your manners, Child... you know what is to rule a place there in the Chaos, do you not? To know when people are yours to take, like this. Show me what you know of this dance."

Child of Wyld Days: "The dance of submission? The dance of surrender?" The dance of the Cup? Oh, I know it. I know it well. To give, to be taken, to compromise, is to slowly become desired. Wanted. Needed. And in that need is alliance and safety. Some would see it as subservience... but there is always one greater than you. Sometimes, though... it is best to let one think themselves the better one.

She is indeed feeling the heat of the forge, beads of sweat tricking down here and there. One pools on the tip of her nose, falls, lands on her outstretched tongue. "Test me, Iron God. Test me, and I will show you that the ways of the Wyld are not so alien as they seem." An arching of a strong back, an offering of sorts. Her tail quickly finds its way around the god, almost as if anchoring him to her.

"Try me, Iron Tears. I will not dissapoint."

Iron Tears: "That one." A hand touches the root of her tail. It touches there, the same way it has touched the root of wings, before, and the root of similar tails once. Touching, playing with it and what is beneath it. A kiss on her neck, down her neck, drinking the goblets of sweat down to her bust... his loins against her own, between them... teasing, playing... until all the heat is coming from within her...

"Yes, I will try you, Child of Chaos..."

Then, it all stops, and his hand begins to snake up her back...

"... but not here. Come with me. You shall be taken by a God in a God's proper domain."

Child of Wyld Days: She exhales, once, loudly. Pleasure, pain, wrapped into one little ball of feeling. The pain reminds her that she is to surrender, at least for now. The pleasure... reminds her why she surrendered in the first place.

The Cup... also desires to be wanted, to be needed...

Without much thought, her body reacts, counters, the heat that the god apparently wants to build within her flaring up quickly, like a perfectly-build bonfire. A twitch of the tail, a offering of what lies under her vest, a deft backwards grind---Snow Monkey dances as best as she can to the tune she's given. The sudden pause actually makes her hoot softly in dismay... but she nods a moment later. "As you wish, Iron Tears." She awaits his commands, tanned skin flushed from both a deep-seated hunger in her belly and the irritation of his skin to hers. "As you wish."

Iron Tears: He took her then, leaving the room, allowing it to cool... it was Kanti's room, for the time being.

And it was not here that he would mount chaos and make it his'.

He brings her, hot and bothered, both covered in sweat, through the halls of the room... and outside. Outside, where he calls a gate made of iron. The inside, instead of seeing anything within, seems to be just flames, burning white-hot... but the Child does not feel the heat. "The path to a God's domain. Ever walked into one, Child?"

Child of Wyld Days: "I have not. I've seen many things, I have heard of these paths... but this will be the first time." She can only grin, thoughts of the future making her purr under her breath. "I imagine what is on the other side will be most interesting to behold... " She leans forward for a look, tapping a finger at the gate before casting a glace over and back to the iron god. "... I imagine you know how to show a lady into your domain, yes?"

Iron Tears: "Oh yes." His arm encircles hers', and he carefully strides within it with the Child of Chaos.... and then, she hears the roars of the forge. The sound of the hammer. And yet, they are on their perfection. It is like a melody, trumpets greeting a king and its champion. They change tone slightly, becoming more... lewd. Suggestive. All around, works of art. Great armors. Parts of great suits. Great weapons. Great tables and chandeliers. All sorts of works, each and everyone is a masterpiece. They stand on a walkway, items of legend beneath them, spirits of the forge all around. And they walk, passing through... and getting to a room, where all is finally silent.... and the bed is a masterpiece and half. "And now..." He once again pulls her tail, pulling her against himself. "Now, not as a lady. But as a chaos spawn. As my subject. As mine."

Child of Wyld Days: "So, I am to be---" She is tugged, pulled out of the mild awe of beholding her surroundings and into the Iron God's strong grip. She gasps, she hisses, she licks her lips slowly. "... to be just a very enticing piece of meat for you to beat with your... hammer, until tender?" A hand moves downward, giving said 'hammer' a trace of a finger, obviously teasing her captor. "... that doesn't sound like a very bad idea at the moment, my good god. Not a bad idea at all." Between 'bad' and 'idea' she gives the bindings around her chest a deft tug, and tosses the flowing length of gossamer cloth to the side, leaving only her vest to keep her modest.

Iron Tears: He lets go, his hands slowly moving up her strong body... "It is not always that I find such a sturdy piece to work in. So that I can use all the strength of my hammer... and know it will not break." The hands go to the vest... and slide it off, leaving her body bare before him, "And one that will taste so well..." He kisses her again. The fingers trail lewd suggestions on her naked body...

Child of Wyld Days: To give. To take. To have. To let go. Such is the interplay of all living things. It's no different in the shaped world than it is in the wyld world. The stakes are merely... different.

The vest joins the bindings, and she responds with a smile that hides gritted inner teeth. Impending agony. Forthcoming esctasy. She was going to have to take both... but she would not have it any other way.

"Oh, you're welcome to try and see if I break... we have lots and lots of time after all." A laugh escapes her, and she prepares for a bit of spice that she will certainly add to her tale when she retells it... to be handled by Iron itself, and to not only live, but to enjoy every moment.

Iron Tears: He held her.. "Yes. All the time in the world."

He held her and slowly, softly guided her down...

"Serve, now. Get the hammer ready. Get it ready to soften you."

Soft now.
Gentle now.
The forge's passion would come later.

... and it did.

The sex was hard, pushing Days against the wall almost to the point of breaking it. Throwing her over a table and mounting her. The bed resisted due to its sturdyness. Fire and passion. Iron in his lips, burning. Iron inside her, burning in ways that felt so pleasurable. So much, for so long.

And when it was over, he played with her hair, hands cuffed with iron to the bed, droplets of his seed mingling with sweat and the dust of iron and the small folliage of the earth above her bare body...

Child of Wyld Days: She had been used.

She could rightly say that she had been used, and used well. A being of infinite reserves of stamina, she nonetheless found herself there, shackled and suitably messy from what had been a most unique and torrid experience. The afterglow mingled with the lingering burning, coming together to form a sort of... sensation. It wasn't good or bad... it was satisfying. Yes, she'd been used. She asked for it, wanted it, and the god gave her every motion, every grope, every growl, every release that he well could. So she lay there, hefty bosom rising and falling steadily, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly, lapping at a bit of residue she'd somehow missed on her upper lip.

"... I would like to start by saying that if I had known you fucked like this, I would have jumped you the moment I met you. Outside of battle, of course." She laughs, and for a moment, it's a real, true laugh---no teasing monkey, no fearsome devil-thing, just a woman basking in the lingering bits of fulfillment. "So... I assume I did not dissapoint?"

Iron Tears: The god watched her, his hand softly touching her flesh... a fake. But so real. "You were one of the greater ones I had in a long while. Exalted, a Chaos Queen... I have been in luck. You were grand, Child." He looks around the room, then gives her a smirk of confidence. "It is rare to see one that will make me turn my room... in that. Whenever you wish for more... all you need to do is ask." He leans closer to her and kisses. Then he leans back, and admires. "And you look great after."

Child of Wyld Days: Snow Monkey murrs heatedly into said kiss, before letting a proud little grin fix itself into place. "It is a pleasure to have been a way to relieve any pent-up stress, Iron Tears. And I will keep your offer in mind for when I'm particularly eager for some more... tenderizing." A laugh, soft and breathy, follows, before she resumes lying back. Her toes wiggle idly, while her tail pats at the side of the bed, probably the only part of her that evaded the brunt of the god's attentions. "And... I have been told that they like to see me this way. It suits me well... and the feelings I can sense are a reward in themselves." She pauses for a moment, though, and a look of serious thought crosses her face. "Unshackle me. I would like to talk with you in a bit more comfortable position."

Iron Tears: With a wave of his hand, she shackles disappear. They are unmade in the air around her. A finger of the other hand touches her cheek, trailing patterns with his seed there... before bringing them to her lips. "You drank well from the passion, then? You are a wnderful one to see like this, yes. I could have you held here every day."

Child of Wyld Days: A simple movement of her head leans her into that touch, and then she neatly accepts the finger and suckles it clean, eyeing the iron god with eyes that still shine with a somewhat-quelled hunger. "Deeply, Tears, deeply. You have done well for me as I imagine I've done for you." Once freed, she sits up, pausing to stretch--sinews creak and joints pop almost in concert. That done, and a happy little noise later, she slides herself onto the Iron God's lap--not in an overtly sexual manner, although she's most certainly in position for another round if she so chose to give him another go. Instead, she places her hands on his shoulder and looks into his eyes, deeply.

"I know that matters are not yet solved. I was wondering if there was more I could do... my oath is not completely fulfilled, if there is still a fight to be had in the future." She pauses to... well. It's odd that she's having a perfectly serious conversation while using a finger to clean herself up a tad, pausing here and there to clean it with her tongue. "While I do have power within the Wyld, my reach is... limited." She looks, unconsciously, to the Binder on her right forearm, the sac of dreams within it throbbing now and then.

Iron Tears: He enjoys her show, his hands only touching her for warmth, not lust. She had drained the god dry, for now. "We will need your help, yes." He says... his eyes attent on her finger movements. To see her tasting him over her in such a way was... interesting. "They will strike again soon. And we will need those like you and our Chosen. My city cannot fend itself with numbers alone, anymore..."

"What do you mean, then?"

Child of Wyld Days: "The realm I control is shared." She finishes, smacking her lips and returning to simply sitting there, arms around the god's neck and eyes slightly lidded. "There is another. He... had a say in my birth, I suppose I could say. He is the sort of faerie that despises the shaped world, however. If I had my way, the opportunity to lead your enemies to my realm and let our own defenses deal with them would have been suggested long ago. But... he will have none of it, and that which we have cannot enter Creation."

A shame, that. But that is how things must be...

"And... we are sworn to not interact. I cannot speak with him, attempt to bargain and reason with him. So... I suppose I am something of a queen without a throne. Still, I aim to... change things, in time." She smiles, and there is betrayal and destruction in that smile.

Iron Tears: He smiles back at her. "And you wish me to help you in this betrayal."

"That is... quite a devious plot, to dispose of your partner, Child. But a needed one, apparently." He plays with her hair, "What do you call those of the Chaos that hate this world? Balorians, is that it? For the great general of the time of the Contagion?"

Child of Wyld Days: "Those who with to see another Crusade are called as such, yes." She cackles, though. "I know not about devious... perhas neccesary. I... made a promise to a good friend, and I must keep it one way or another. As for your help... I cannot ask you to extend yourself at such a time, but if there anything you can do, I would be in your debt." She idly traces her fingers along the iron god's beard, almost as if seeing any beard for the first time. "I... I will readily admit that I enjoy this world, as dry and stale as it can be. There is a sort of Wyld in it, that lives in the hearts of its citizens. That... and the thrill of adventure in this place is much more real and evident when you are in a place where you can actually lose your life."

Iron Tears: The iron god stays there, looking at her for a long time...
The heat of the forge begins to cool...
He is baffled.

"You like this world. You wish to defend it against the creatures from beyond. You wish to fight your own for us." the lust is forgotten. He is... impressed. "I would gladly do anything to help against this Festival of Hearts. Maybe I will be too busy for a war outside of my city. But even then... I will tell the Chosen of it. You shall have the Chosen who are in this city as your help... I am sure we can make the Prince agree to this war."

"And I am sure I can arm you with objects made of fire and iron that can destroy Festival of Hearts and his creatures."

Child of Wyld Days: "I cannot say that I wish to defend it.... it's just... well, I don't want it to vanish! Creation has its moments! And if I had to choose between another Crusade and backing the shaped... I would not be on the side of the Wyld. That is all that I can say." She puts on a deathly serious face. "Iron Tears. I am alien to Creation. That will not change. I may not be of this world... but if need be, I will stand for it. I am still raksha! My true home is in the Marches! There I can shed this shell and wear my true skin of stone and brass. But... I would like to come here and wear that shell, to explore, to enjoy."

You are fooling yourself, Child.

"... nonetheless, do no overextend what you have. Do not risk what we have saved for my sake. The time will come, I suppose... but for now... for now, let's not think too deeply about it." She sighs. The Cup returns, shrouding the truer feelings of self and Heart. "We will talk more later. For now... " She looks down. She grasps. "... tell me that you can manage one more go, god of iron and forge."

Iron Tears: He holds her. He understands. He understands what he can never truly understand. But he sympathizes with it. And holds her. Holds her... until her fingers move. And the hammer is still ready to a finer work on what has been used, hammered and softened, but has not broken... he comes closer, and whisper in her ear. "I am, Child. Jus come. Breathe life in the hammer again. Breathe is colder, so it will not burn when it hammers down on your flesh."

Child of Wyld Days: Her first reply is to stroke her cheek along his, chuckling. "Indeed, Iron Tears. Indeed it is." And thus she quietly slips out of his grasp, down, down... onto her knees. A servant, she is, for now. But a servant's life, at least in this regard, she seems to enjoy.

So the servant, the raksha trapped within the sanctum of iron, breathes onto that hammer. It may not exactly be outside of her mouth, but breathe onto it she does.

... I do enjoy being fooled, it seems. Ah, well.

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