Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/LittleSilverlie12"

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= Little Silver Play =
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= Little Silver Chaos =
  
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... and so Wei Lai, the Crimson Devil, was born.
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'''Gin: ''' "How long do you intend to be away?" the kitsune asked, examining her immaculate fingernails rather than the wolf woman she addressed. Leaning against the golden doorway to Fang's room, Gin had come upon the other Lunar seemingly out of thin air, materializing into the doorway with the same serene expression she almost always wore.
  
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Gin and Sapphire's expertise allowed them to find the right herbs even on such a limited place to dye Leaf's hair crimson... and darken his skin as much as they could. The Mask was a nice touch. Ivory white of bone, with long fangs and sharp, mocking eyes... the mask of shogunate warriors. That is when Leaf's pechant to taking souvenirs of defeated foes, more than simple dojo signs like most dojo destroyers, had a crucial role. The Mask had belonged to Ourobo, the The Blood Demon. A master of martial arts almost as good as Leaf, a Chosen of the Night... Gin remembered him well. She had stopped the deathblow to her contractor... and Leaf's backhand had taken out the Mask, causing Ourobo to flee. To top it all was the crimson cowl of one of the Red Dawn assassins, the ninja... Gin had stripped one of the dead ones on the garden, hoping the uniform would be a clue. It was, at the very least, a good disguise.
+
Things were in motion. Fang's to be departing to fight the Fair Folk and rid the townsfolk of their nightmares. Leaf would have to be throughly disguised before he was to fight the Four Falling Roses sifu, of course; it wouldn't due to have one of the township's soon-to-be ordained goddesses seen with the very threat Fang's would appear to vanquish. But her place was with the Solar, for better or worse.
  
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And with all that done... came the fun.
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Bold as this plan was, there was much that could go wrong and timing would be everything.
  
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Leaf ''laughed! ''
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She held her hand before her, and felt the tendons flex beneth flesh as she brought her claws into a fist. She could smell Gin before she saw her, and did not look up from her contemplation. "Depends. A night, or until my next life. It is of no difference." She flexed her hand again, the great muscles of her ascended form tensing with the motion. She closed her eyes, feeling the reaction of her body. The pace of her breathing.
  
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He laughed as he brought down the wooden garrisson. None of the Inns... nothing that could discourage people. He made his intentions to beat the royal kid and deflower Aquamarine's daughter clear. He brought down the hamlet's little Guild soldiers with ease. The Berines had little more luck... but of course, they weren't trying. And the royal guard... well, let it be said that they tried. They tried their ''best''. But easily, the Red Devil dispatched them. He laughed. He laughed merrily, breaking the Guild stalls(Guild property damage was fine, after all; It's not like the Guild would stop doing bussiness!)... and then... his students begun to come to him.
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"I assume you will be occupying yourself with Leaf?" She said, a thich stream of steam coming from her mouth as she said his name.
  
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The best of the royal guard clustered around the prince... and as it happenned, usually, the martial artists got called to help. Black Rose stepped foward... the few of her students that tried their hands. Wood Aspect master martial artist against an anathema. Lights took the sky. The Black Rose filled the view, her thorns destroying everything in the street. She fought with puissance and supernatural understanding. She was mighty.
+
'''Gin: ''' "Hmh!" She answered, a soft laugh from behind closed lips, their corners bent upwards into a smile. Gin spread her finger's apart and held her small hand high to examine them better in the light. Her tail's flickered to-and-fro. "More that Leaf will be occupying himself with me. His hunger will undoubtedly be that much more great without you present to... distract him."
  
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... and she ended up held by his diamond-tipped chain to a building, her top torn off... of course, none dared to come closer, as her anima still raged. The plan would involve Gin... taking her in, later, before she could be very humilliated by this.
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' "Soft. He spent all his time in the dojo, in clean fights. He needs to know the taste of blood in his mouth, of desperation in his heart." She huffs softly, "Maybe he belongs with you."
  
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And then, having defeated and chained the sifu, the Red Devil laughed.
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'''Gin: ''' Gin arched a delicate eye brow, looking past her hand to Fang at last. "Whom he belongs ''with'' is irrelevant. I belong to him. Be that in his best interests or not, it is where I shall stay until he or my father say otherwise."
  
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"''Is that the best you've got? ''" He shouted, walking slowly towards Aquamarine's temple...
+
"My darling, if you're truly so intent on pursuing a relationship with master Leaf, then you'll have to grow use to that idea, rather than sulking and cursing." She smiled once more, lowering her hand and gracefully crossing her arms beneath her chest, head tipping to the side. "And if makes you any less sullen, master Leaf's fights are ''anything'' but clean."
−
 
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: '''Off in the distance, there was a howl...
 
  
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And it was a terrible thing. In its cry was heard the deathcries of a thousand men, the cries of a hundred slain beasts. There was no defeating what had made that howl. It was a thing of utter, complete terror.
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' "For his opponents, perhaps." She huffs again, but it draw a little smile on her face. She looks over her shoulder at Gin, and arched an eyebrow at her, "Just keep him from getting his head caved in before I can do it, would you?"
  
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And everyone who heard it knew it called for Leaf's end.
+
With that, the tattoos that flow over her form glow a gentle silver, and she's off like a shot through the forest.
  
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She was there almost before the echoes had died, standing proud in her Ascension. She had torn the gossomer garb from the Demise, and wore it now... a goddess of Battle and Terrible Wrath. She brought with her a spear, and on the silvered point rested a faelords head. She drove this into the ground.
+
'''Gin: ''' "Hmh." She laughed behind her lips once again. Sauntering casually in the path Fang's had torn through the manse until she stood at the doorway, Gin watch the faint glimmer in the horizon that was all that could still be seen of the other Lunar. "Like a kit with her first crush upon the Fox Lord. You are adorable, Fangs-of-Winter."
  
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"Anathema!", she cried, the echo of death still reverberating in her voice. "I am the Fangs of Winter!"
+
A smile played about her lips, one different from that she had shown to the Lunar. A little sly, a little wicked, and between the two, every bit foxy. Resting her chin upon her hand, she tapped one of those perfect glistening finger nails against her soft lips thoughtfully and there is stayed as she turned her back to the world outside and strolled back into the manse, her nine-tails swaying impudently. "So truly adorable..."
 +
 +
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' In the North, she was but a shadow upon the Snow. The howling wind did not break her mind, the bitter cold did not ice her flesh. There, she was death on the breeze, every bit as subtle in her step as Gin was with her words.
  
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She paused for effect, letting her name sit in. "This place is under my care! I demand surrender, or I shall tear the flesh from your demon tainted bones!"
+
In the East, she was a kin to a bull. Twigs broke under her step, and branches parted noisily as she ran through the forest. It was good to feel the heat of her muscles again, the burn of her breath in her throat. No diabolical kitsune to confuse her, no beautiful bastards to make her feel irrational. Just herself, the forest, and the hunt.
  
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'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' All those at his side ran. They ran scared.
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Yet, the conversation she had with Gin played out in her mind. There was no doubt in her mind she hated the woman.
  
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All those at his side.
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A nearby sappling was cut short as she bowled through it.
  
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The streets cleared...
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Gin, after all, was everything Fangs was not. Elegant, poised, controlled. Leaf responded more to the velvet hand than to the icy claw.
  
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Of all but the golden devil.
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The Wolf-Bitch was just another conquest to him. The Companion was... something else. It flamed her anger, this ignorance.
  
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The others, the defending side... all pale in fright... saw the fae-lord's face. Burning Star of Demise. All knew. All feared him. He had a palanquin waiting for him, at the wedding... it is not like he would come. But he might, and they prepared everything for it. They even had slaves ready for him to devour. Sacrificial bridesmaids groomed to die for the safety of the prince's wedding. But now... he was... he was... dead?
+
'''Burning Star of Demise: ''' Even from a distance, the scent of ozone is strong in the air. A crimson glow stretches across the horizon, and the crackling sound of fire and lightning accompany every step. Without context, it would simply be a pretty nest, if a bit colorful... but it is spaced between trees the size of mountains, titanic branches holding up a ring of fire and thunder, a great palatial complex shaped like eggs and crafted only of finest marble cradled within the architecture of destruction.
  
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The Red Devil, however, was non-chalant, looking at Fangs...
+
This is where the proud lunar must step. This is where they wait. They are writing down her mistakes. They are documenting her downfall.
  
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"You can '''try''', little goddess. I am '''Wei-Lai, the Red Devil! ''' I bathe in flames, I drink divinity's blood! This little hamlet is now mine, to do with as I wish! Come, little Winter... come witness ''true'' power!"
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' The mountain breeze blows back the proud banner of her ivory hair, and she moves proud and undefiant in the fact of such ominous tidings, for what horror was there in this world greater than her?
  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' Her fangs wetted on a Fae Lords blood, she felt rather sorry for Leaf.
+
Muscles flexed under tattooed flesh, the scar of her Abjuration tingled faintly along her throat, her voice yurning to give loose its howl, to allow her foes the knowledge of just whom they faced.
  
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After all, she had not actually tried to hurt him seriously before. A tremor of worry came over her. What if she really did hurt him?
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She smiled, wickedly. ''Let them drown in their ignorance. ''
  
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But as he began his tirade, her ego reared is monsterous and ugly head. Little!
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Her markings glowed as she moved under the sway of her anima, moving as a stray ray of silver light up the chains that held aloft the mountain. She braced her steps upon the backs of eagles, and her claws bit into stone to give her purchase as she reached the base.
  
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She was on midway into the word 'power', her claws outstretched to take the smirk from the Beautiful Bastards smirking face.
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'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' Guardlings shaped like doves flit hither and yon, small fae colored to represent each grace subserviant to the sword. They sing of the sword, the slashes and cuts, the thrusts and parries, the end of all things in Creation written in the feathers of a great bird. A flower blossoms out of the flame, long petals curling forth to touch the proud lunar's face. "What business have you here? What drives you to harm such beauty?"
  
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''LITTLE!! ''
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She doesn't reply immediately, she merely keeps her dreadful smile. Her breath came through her fangs, icy and burning. The petals grew icy and grey with her nearness.
  
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'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' He was masked, of course. So she could not see the grin.
+
She lifted her hands, and brushed away the flower, and left it smeared with her blood, for the fanged bracelet at her wrist had bit her deeply, and a slow steady trickle ran forth.
  
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But oooh, lord, was he grinning.
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Leaving her path writ in blood.
  
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He held her arm as it came, and in his fighting way that was almost a dance, he moved her along... giggling on her ear. "Had fun? Remember we gotta put up a show." He whispered... and then, his feet blocked hers'... and he sent her flying through a Guild wagon... laughing."Silent and inneffective... little goddess."
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"I have come, and you shall bow at my coming.," she announced.
  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She crashed into the wagon, sending goods flying this way and that.
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'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' Steam, crimson and gold, ten thousand dragons birthed of her sacrifice, coil forth to twine in her hair and whisper in her ears, forked tongues flickering as they share words of poetry. The beauty of the end, the end of beauty, and the knowledge that bowed is not broken as she shall be, cast down in pieces to grow the rage of the world until it bursts forth, too hot to hold and cracking the sky. It is not a threat, they say. She should be thankful that their lord promises this much.
 +
 +
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She curled one of the serpents around her taloned fingers, and brought it close to her lips. She gazed into its serpentine eyes, and knew it was but a small thing, born of her. She let it fall from her hand, even as they writhed in her hair, and raised her head back.
  
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She rose back to her feet, uninjured. She snarled at Leaf, and repressed a giggle. She gripped the edge of the wagon, and gave him a tiny little grin. And with a sudden surge of Essence to her muscles, the wagon became a missle.
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The Fangs-of-Winter let forth her howl.
  
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There was an audible curling of air as it flew toward, and into, the Red Devil.
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And it was as if the world shattered.
  
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'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' And it ''crashed'' upon him. In fact, on the last moment, he struck it... but amidst the breaking pieces of wood, he let himself fall... and begun to get up a moment later. His sleeve had been ripped by the impact and the fall, and he even seriously scratched a little of his arm. Not even something that could be considered a wound, however. Not after what she had given him with love alone. He raised slowly, amidst the wooden wreckage...
+
In the boundless depths of chaos, Nirhkirya stired in his timelessness. A thing greater than all the lands of shape, greater than the dreams of the Primordials that glanced it, shifted its timeless thoughts for a spec of time onto the shores of Creation.
  
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And stared at her, waiting for her next move...
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Her howl was certainy. The certainy of eternity. The certainy of desolution. There was no power against it. There was no struggle.
  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She didn't wait for the wagon to land, she came at him in its wake. Even as he looked back to her, she was on him again, her balled fist striking into his midsection. It was like Leaf had been hit by a mace, and her clawed hand snaked toward his throat.
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It was Doom Knell.
  
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Her smile for him was soft, tender.
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At the sound, color fled from the serpents that writhed in her hair, and heat left their flesh. The spirits of red, purple, yellow, green and all colors of life fled for sake of their own, a monochgromatic dreamscape in its wake. The doves fell dead, hearts burst from there terror, and the earth trembled as she held the note.
  
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She brought her knee up into his crotch even as she grasped for his throat.
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The flawless stone beneth them cracked.
 +
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'''Burning Star of Demise: ''' Weight. The life she has taken presses down on her, the corpses of the dragons and the falling doves anchor her more surely than any chain. The heart's blood coils within her veins, pressing down, draining her strength as once she drained theirs.
  
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'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' He groaned. He could not scream. How could he? He had no voice even to scream. That was low. Too low. Too fast. She did move far too fast, far too fast for him... he was barely recovering from her blow as another came. His vision went dark. The pain filled everything. For a moment, he wondered idly if he would ever have children.
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Fear. Her howl cracks the world, and through the cracks glorious light pours through. Flame in the purest form, not so much the element as the idea, the ideal, the perfection of devouring. a rain of metal pours forth from the weeping sky to form the kneeling figure of a fae, towering so high that even on a knee his head rises above hers like a parent to a child. He smiles, leaving her breathless... voiceless.
  
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She felt her nails on his throat, and thought it was all over...
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"That was not so bad, child... but please, if you are going to challenge me here, do not profane my good name with your blasphemy."
  
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''Hah. As '''if! ''''' came the stray thought that brought him back.
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She grins at that, even as she could give no reply. His smile burned in her throat, even as his serpents fell from her. She stepped forward, unaffraid. She smiled at him..
  
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He got a handful of her hair, and snapped her face back. He got a handle of her arm, and tore it off his throat. He tried to get up... slowly... even though the pain was burning, that his legs shook... and then, turning Fangs around, pushed her face into the nearest wall, that of a wooden house, breaking it. "''What? ''" He asked her, angrily, but still low enough that others might not hear. "You spend a lil' while being the aqua-goddess lil' bitch and now you hate the sausage?" He asked as he yanked her face back.
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...baring her namesake.
  
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"You know, I've wanted to do this every second I saw you being her pretty little bitch. It was so... so..."
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Half-dream, half-flesh, her fangs knew the final screams of a dozen cataphori.
  
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Grasping the face, he pushed it into the wood again, fully breaking the wall!
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Still, it was gratifying to find one worth of them. The muscles of her body tensed, and she charged the Raksha.
  
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"You are '''my''' bitch!" He said, this time louder than he should....
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Elegance was for kitsune.
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 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' Still refusing to stand, the long shadow of his arm reaches across the walkway as his hand clasps her head, a thumb pressed firmly into her eye as he draws out a star encased in a cage at the end of a chain, purple fire pouring forth to surround them, curtain them off from the outside world. It is only them now.
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She was unphased by the fire, for the star of her eye was of her own vision, and nothing could defeat her gaze once she set it on something. She dives through the fire, headless of its burning tongues, and reaches toward him with outstretched claws.
  
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''... the fuck, why am I being possessive of '''her?!? ''' ''
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 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' The flame burns. The hot air rushes out, holding her away. The fire trickles along her back, rushes along her front, twisting and turning to shake her grip. The star falls, chain wrapping around her shoulders in an intricate constellation of chains, straining against her motion.
 +
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There is the quiet snap of metal bones, the moaning of motes forcibly drained, and the crackle of flame to cover their battle. A body unmatched in perfection by any real form strains to break free, a star slithers across her body, searing it with the pure essence of endings and change, and in the end, the titan simply smiles and smashes his head into hers once, twice, thrice to knock her to the ground.
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' Fangs form wasn't meant to be perfect. It was only meant to be deadly. She knew the taste of his blood now, felt the metalic twing of his bones crushing on her endlessly powerful jaws. She was Luna'a child, and she was worthy.
  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' Her face into the wood, her heel comes strait down onto his instep with crushing force. She twists away from his grip, a lock of her hair, blood at the roots still in his hand.
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She grasped the Fair Folk like a lover, his chains carressing her form even as he attempted to bring his head down like kisses upon her brow. She smiled silently, and gave him another love bite to remember her by.
 +
 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' His fangs clink against his, and somehow he has a grin on his face as his tongue pushes out to twine with hers. It would be a taunt, a strange joke for one who's thus far been losing. But suddenly, his mouth spits fire, rushing down her throat and burning in her gullet. Suddenly, he inhales, and her spirit coils as the fire tries to rip it forth from her.
 +
 +
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' Fangs-of-Winter was not one to be taunted.
  
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Her nose was broken at an odd angle, and before Leaf's eyes it fixed itself as good as new.
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Her muscles flexed as she channeled the power of Luna into her muscles, her eyes wide with rage. Anger, pure and terrible, caused her muscles to tremble with wrath. The swirling tattoos that covered her form began to burn a brilliant silver, her breath turning the ichor on her fangs solid and cold. With all her rage, with all her hate, she struck at him again.
  
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"You lack... potence," and suddenly, she drove her claws into his abdomine with all of his strength, sending a burning, tearing pain through Leaf.
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Oddly, she thought of Leaf.
 +
 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' Blood thick like lava pours from his cheek, a large crimson tear caught by the curve of his grin, trickling across his lips to drip down her chest. "Are you running out of strength, little one? How can you hope to consume the fire that burns the world to ash? How can you dare to strive against the perfect ravening flame? I like you. If you will but swear unto me, I will adorn you with the Graces of the fallen when the time
 +
comes."
  
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She lifts him up off the ground, so hooked, and with a sadistic grin, brings him crashing down into the ground, causing a rippling break of the stone around him.  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She considers this for a moment.
  
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* All the expectators, least the male ones, held their breath even further.<br><br>That knee strike was painful even to watch.<br><br>And then, her claws tore through his abdomen... his blood pouring crimson.... and they felt the hurting.<br><br>The earth trembled. And the illustrious guests held their breaths...<br><br>... and their hearts skipped a beat.<br><br>Such terrible forces...<br><br>Walking forces of nature.<br><br>Terrifying forces of nature...  
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A mayflies life.
  
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'''Gin: ''' As Demon and Goddess faced one another in the near-empty streets, an aura of terror hung over the rest of the town like a murder of crows blotting out the sun. So much fear, for rumor spoke often of how the battles of the Chosen left little but ash behind them. Yet more, they had all heard the demon's threats. They knew his dark desires. One champion had come to protect them... and now she hung, defeated and humiliated before them all. A second had appeared, enigmatic and nearly as terrible as the demon itself. There could only be questions, only fears as they hid in their homes and watched from afar as the two faced off. Would the outcome for the town be any different regardless of who won? Would their lives and souls be forfeit either way? The royal guards surrounding the prince were brave soldiers, yet even they shivered in the face of what they had just witnessed. The prince himself a man of valor and integrity, but even he glistened in cold sweat...
+
She grins fearly back at him, and presses her attack. Of course, she could not respond. It would take her too long to recover it, and by then it would be over. Her fangs fell again, even as he finished his offer.
  
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... until a hand laid gently on his shoulder. "Be at ease, my fair one," soothed a voice as calm as the white clouds that drifted indifferently overhead. Just to hear it was to know peace... and desire. For as gentle as it came, there was an unconscious undertone of something else. Something so feminine and warm that it sent new shivers through the guards and made the prince bare second thoughts to his marriage. Soft lips hovered scant inches away from his ear, hot breath caressing his skin as the voice went on. "All will be well."
+
When he bowed to her, only then would she relent.
 +
 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' Her fangs find no purchase. Rough metal scrapes along her body, fire seems to caress her, and she finds herself on her hands and knees, knelt before the ethereal figure of flame that holds an end of the chain still wrapped around her. He stands tall, defiant of his wounds... like a master unconcerned with scratches from playing with a favorite pet.
  
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She came from the depths of the temple where he was to be wed and for a moment, any who were strangers to this place would think she was the goddess made manifest. Even those who dwelled there could only wonder what new spirit had descended from heaven to join them. She did not seem to walk, but float, carried on a mist of iridescent light that coalesced into a hallo of wavering tendrils arrayed out behind her. Robes of immaculate white touched with vivid bands of deep black and shimmering patterns of silver draped her body and a tiara of twisting silver rested between the fox-ears that stood proud atop her head.
+
Her breath dies within her lungs, the oxygen burned out of it as the star flares up. The room whirls as the elemental form of the fae joins with the curtain of fire, sheer white and red mixed with the curtain of the purple. He seems to intend on simply waiting her out... Tiring her out, here in his home.
 +
 +
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' Fire did not burn moonlight.
  
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"All of you, come forth!" She called as she stepped beyond the prince and his escourt, her gentle hand reaching out to each as she passed them, offering a squeeze of the arm that left it's warmth lingering. A long leg slipped from the skirt of her robe with every other step, it's open and unashamed perfection displayed so blatantly in contradictory to the aura of modest holiness her clothing implied. "Come forth, sweet children! All will be well!. Do not fear the night! Your guardian stands before you, locked in battle with the hated foe. She, as I, have come to this place to ensure your lives are lived as heaven intends. In comfort and safety. In sanctity and ''pleasure''..."
+
Chains could not hold the North.
  
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The last word beckoned irresistibly to any who may have still been hiding. Summoned them with image of sensual delights unknown to man, filled every mind with visions of a perfectly formed pair of feminine lips whispering that word to each as though she knew what fantasies danced in their minds. As if she had meant it for they and they alone. Driving out fear with passion and uncertainty with hope - for what person would ''not'' want to live through this to see what the fox-woman spoke of?
+
She would not be broken by this petty dreamer in a radiment of his own petty glory. Her muscles flexed like iron hues, and she shattered the chains.
  
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"You are cherished to us, my darlings. We will see none of you come to harm. Come together now, here, before the temple of the Lady Aquamarine! Give praise and thanks to the goddesses who watch over you and witness the might of your protect as she overcomes the darkness!"
+
She rose to her feet, and as the ravening wolf, she came for him again.
 +
 +
She held the Fair Lord in her taloned hands. Her skin was matted with blood from wounds that had sealed seconds after being inflicted. Her knee on his abdomine, her face into his, she her hand gripped around the stalk of his neck.
  
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In ''theory'' at least. No doubt twinged upon the kitsune's serene face, but inwardly she winced hard as she watched Fangs and Leaf tear at one another. They ''did'' remember this was merely to be a ''show'' right?
+
"Yield to me," she said, her voice was harsh, "Or you will never see your vision."
  
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''... right? ''
+
Her hand grew tighter around his throat, and her eyes, like blue-silver pools, bore into his.
  
 +
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' "Your strength of purpose is to be commended... I will yield a favor, but no more. Some things are not worth the price, and defeat is one."
  
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'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' It ''hurt''. But by now, he had little pain left. He was anger. And fury. It was burning him as much as the pain, and thus, after the breaking of the rocks... he got up. No, he '''shot''' up the ground, juping on Fangs and going ''through'' the house with her... making it crash in dust and wood behind them, the sound like the death throes of a great beast... as he slammed Fangs face-front on the ground, holding her arms.... "Are we done with staging already, bitch? Do you want to be hurt ''that'' much?"
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' "You will so swear on your one and True Heart that, in both action and intent, or with aide or motivation, to never harm any group in who's community a likeness of me is worshipped, nor harm any who bare my mark. So you will swear, or so you will die."
  
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'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She was forced to the ground, much like the night they had first met. She sighed at the romance of it all.
+
'''BurningStarOfDemise: ''' "Swearing that would be worse than death itself. Your skills have earned you a boon, in the ways of my people, but not outright slavery."
  
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"Now, now," she whispered, "if I wanted to marr you, I'd have sunk my teeth in." Her brought her arms apart, the muscles tensed visably as she brought her arms back under her dominion.
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She leaned a little closer, "I could always just mount your head on a pike to prove my divinity. It would also serve the same cause, I should think." She smiled down at him, humorlessly. "Yes, perhaps that is best." She raised her claw, a silouette against the light behind it.
  
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Almost spread, she suddenly leans forward, curls her foot under her, and drives her heel into Leaf's fresh wound, breaking his grip and sending him flying back.
+
'''Burning Star Of Demise: ''' "As you wish." He reaches up, and with a strange crackling pop his head comes loose, held out as an offering on one hand. "If your rites earn you power, and my eyes watch over your rites and people... think of me, and feed some dreams to my flames. I will make a pact with you in trade."
  
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"You will fall, demon!" she snarled at him, seemingly little damaged from the affair.
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She seems to consider his offer, "I will place your head near my statue. There, you will watch over the rites they make, and in return, I shall allow you to sip from the emotions I will stir in them." She seems to get an eery little smile, "For I desire warriors, not sheep. Inflame them and sip from this tea we brew. What say you?"
  
−
* The prince was a beautiful individual. Prince Mirai Cynaran had hair that was like caramel under sunlight, and eyes of the most vibrant green. Gin knew, from what she studied from the local kingdoms for the wedding that those were traits of some lesser Wood Elemental far down their line. But still made for a... striking visual, especially clad as he was, in beautiful white and viridian... his voice was soft, but commanding... and now, full of admiration. "You... who are you, my lady goddess? Who might me and mine pray to, ally of our goddess Aquamarine...?" Gin could feel the uncertainty in how to refer to Aquamarine... she was a goddess he apparently cared little for before, but now... he had to pray for her, and she was to become his mother-in-law...<br><br>All others followed inside with less thinking than the prince. His royal guard, men and women in shining plate, Jade Daiklaves in the hands of two of them - God-Blooded of some lesser pedigree, clearly able to use those bastardized weapons of some minor legend... but even then were so awed by her, she could behead him then and there, and it would take a moment for them to have a proper reaction...
+
'''BurningStarOfDemise: ''' "I will dine on their fears and nightmares, rend their weaknesses from their body and devour them... But you must return to me when a star burns on my brow, and we will do battle again."
  
−
'''Aquamarine: ''' "Welcome, my children."
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' "So we are in accord, and these things do I vow."
−
 
 
−
Were the words as the third goddess appeared.
 
−
 
 
−
The words like a city mother. So very Aquamarine, to think of most of them, from kingdoms she held no sway into, as her children. She appeared over her own altar... shimmering image like a bridge under those troubled waters. She made the ground beneath their feet seem hardier, more solid, made the struggle outside seem like rapids below them, outside of their concern. Calming... "I have called my fellow goddesses here for the protection of my son-to-be. For your protection. A new era will begin, in more than one way..."
 
−
 
 
−
'''Seven Leaf Sorrow: ''' Leaf was knocked back.... and she could feel his behind the mask. He grabbed her arm as he went back... and once again, his feet dug into the ground and the sprung foward like a speeding carp, driving both of them through the wooden remains... and making them fall not too far from the river. Leaf, disentangling from her on mid-air, fell perfectly, even with his wounds... and took his most agressive combat stance. Still shining with golden light, he was menace personified.
 
−
 
 
−
"Time to finish this, then!" He shouted, for the impact of anyone watching!
 
−
 
 
−
He prepared himself. She had to appear to kill him, now.
 
−
 
 
−
He had a mask she could take bloodily to the temple... but this?
 
−
 
 
−
This had to look ''good! ''
 
−
 
 
−
'''Gin: ''' The kitsune spun around gracefully, turning with apparent indifference away from the battle to face the prince. She stood shorter than he, yet her eyes seemed to drop to regard him. They ''did'' drop a bit, in fact. Gin looked the young halfling dragon over, took a study of his features and form. They were a surprisingly interesting topic.
 
−
 
 
−
Her smile remained as calm as ever, though she put a more pronounced sway into her hips as she stepped closer to him. The air around him filled with the subtle sweetness of her perfume as she leaned a little closer. Her finger tips scooped up his hand and held it upwards as she rested her other palm over the top. "You may call me Gin, my fair dragon-boy, and may know me as a goddess of pleasure and comfort. Of protection, as well, though I leave this aspect to the lady Fangs-of-Winters for now. She is the fierce one you witness doing battle with the Anathema devil."
 
−
 
 
−
... if one could ''call'' it a battle. It sounded more like a brawl. Honestly now, were the two of them ''drunk? '' If this did not stop soon, there wouldn't be much of a town left to invest in.
 
−
 
 
−
But Gin relayed none of those concerns to the young bridegroom before her, only lightly stroked his hand with the tips of her fingers and smiled, her eyes mysterious and inviting behind long painted lashes. "Give your praise and thanks to the three of us. We are a trinity now. Bridge and Battle and Bliss. Know, dear one, that we will watch over you as if you were already our own. Know that when you wed the child of one, it is as if you married a daughter of each."
 
−
 
 
−
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She gripped Leaf around the throat, and put on her best fearsome scowl. With her other hand, she gripped his hip, and brought the Solar high over her head.
 
−
 
 
−
"Die, and be forgotten!" she screamed at him, and with a swift, fluid motion, she knelt and brought Leaf down over her knee.
 
−
 
 
−
It would have killed most men, the sheer strength of the action, but her aim had been purposefully off. Leaf would have a nice bruise where her knee conencted with his back, but he would not die from it.
 
−
 
 
−
She ripped the bloody mask from the limp demon, and with a disgusted motion, hurled him into the river.
 
−
 
−
* The Prince looked up at her... he did. He was losing himself in her features even as he tried to remind himself he was to be wed... but she was beauty. Pure beauty. As she brushed his hand, he shivered, from head to toe... and then, went on one knee in front of her. "I understand... my ''mother''-to-be. I will make ''sure''... that you are honored. And now... I honor you, and plead for your comfort, for your protection, for your blessings in my future."<br><br>At the same time... Aquamarine made it appear for them. Images of the fight.<br><br>They could see it... they could see the ''crack'' of her strike... at the same time he was preparing his own deathblow. So beautiful coreographed even in a fight of life and death. And the Solar had lost. Their new Goddess had won. So magnificent! So powerful! Destroyer of even the Anathema! They cheered. They clamored! They cheered!<br><br>It was a moment of joy, which the prince watched from his knelt position... smiling up at Gin. "Thank you for your protection, my mother-to-be." He smiled, looking at Aquamarine's images... and hoping he would not have to deal too much with Fangs. To think of such a being as her mother would be... scary...
 
  
−
'''Aquamarine: ''' "We are the Three-in-One!" She spoke most emphatically, her long sleeves basking them in her protection as they appeared to span the whole room, wrapping them all on that... feeling... of safety. "And nothing... ''nothing'' shall prevent this wedding. Nothing shall threaten your safety. You have seen the head of Burning Star of Demise. He shall not prey on your lands anymore... pray for me, for your safety. For your protection. To know the feeling of being on a bridge over troubled waters. Pray for Fangs, for your protection, for the destruction of your foes. Pray for Gin, for your personal protection, for your pleasure, for the comfort your lives."
+
* Burning Star Of Demise almost gently sets her aside, the chain slowly slacking and loosening from her body like a disappointed serpent. "These things I vow. Be careful with my head, wolfling. I'll be taking it back soon."  
  
−
"Pray, my children."
+
'''Fangs-of-Winter: ''' She takes up his head, and smirks a little. "With all the care you have shown me." With that, she places the head in a pouch at her side. It was not dead, but it would serve. She half expected the Fair Folk would just grow another when she left.
  
−
"''Pray. ''"
 
  
  

Revision as of 06:00, 21 February 2007


Little Silver Chaos

Gin: "How long do you intend to be away?" the kitsune asked, examining her immaculate fingernails rather than the wolf woman she addressed. Leaning against the golden doorway to Fang's room, Gin had come upon the other Lunar seemingly out of thin air, materializing into the doorway with the same serene expression she almost always wore.

Things were in motion. Fang's to be departing to fight the Fair Folk and rid the townsfolk of their nightmares. Leaf would have to be throughly disguised before he was to fight the Four Falling Roses sifu, of course; it wouldn't due to have one of the township's soon-to-be ordained goddesses seen with the very threat Fang's would appear to vanquish. But her place was with the Solar, for better or worse.

Bold as this plan was, there was much that could go wrong and timing would be everything.

Fangs-of-Winter: She held her hand before her, and felt the tendons flex beneth flesh as she brought her claws into a fist. She could smell Gin before she saw her, and did not look up from her contemplation. "Depends. A night, or until my next life. It is of no difference." She flexed her hand again, the great muscles of her ascended form tensing with the motion. She closed her eyes, feeling the reaction of her body. The pace of her breathing.

"I assume you will be occupying yourself with Leaf?" She said, a thich stream of steam coming from her mouth as she said his name.

Gin: "Hmh!" She answered, a soft laugh from behind closed lips, their corners bent upwards into a smile. Gin spread her finger's apart and held her small hand high to examine them better in the light. Her tail's flickered to-and-fro. "More that Leaf will be occupying himself with me. His hunger will undoubtedly be that much more great without you present to... distract him."

Fangs-of-Winter: "Soft. He spent all his time in the dojo, in clean fights. He needs to know the taste of blood in his mouth, of desperation in his heart." She huffs softly, "Maybe he belongs with you."

Gin: Gin arched a delicate eye brow, looking past her hand to Fang at last. "Whom he belongs with is irrelevant. I belong to him. Be that in his best interests or not, it is where I shall stay until he or my father say otherwise."

"My darling, if you're truly so intent on pursuing a relationship with master Leaf, then you'll have to grow use to that idea, rather than sulking and cursing." She smiled once more, lowering her hand and gracefully crossing her arms beneath her chest, head tipping to the side. "And if makes you any less sullen, master Leaf's fights are anything but clean."

Fangs-of-Winter: "For his opponents, perhaps." She huffs again, but it draw a little smile on her face. She looks over her shoulder at Gin, and arched an eyebrow at her, "Just keep him from getting his head caved in before I can do it, would you?"

With that, the tattoos that flow over her form glow a gentle silver, and she's off like a shot through the forest.

Gin: "Hmh." She laughed behind her lips once again. Sauntering casually in the path Fang's had torn through the manse until she stood at the doorway, Gin watch the faint glimmer in the horizon that was all that could still be seen of the other Lunar. "Like a kit with her first crush upon the Fox Lord. You are adorable, Fangs-of-Winter."

A smile played about her lips, one different from that she had shown to the Lunar. A little sly, a little wicked, and between the two, every bit foxy. Resting her chin upon her hand, she tapped one of those perfect glistening finger nails against her soft lips thoughtfully and there is stayed as she turned her back to the world outside and strolled back into the manse, her nine-tails swaying impudently. "So truly adorable..."

Fangs-of-Winter: In the North, she was but a shadow upon the Snow. The howling wind did not break her mind, the bitter cold did not ice her flesh. There, she was death on the breeze, every bit as subtle in her step as Gin was with her words.

In the East, she was a kin to a bull. Twigs broke under her step, and branches parted noisily as she ran through the forest. It was good to feel the heat of her muscles again, the burn of her breath in her throat. No diabolical kitsune to confuse her, no beautiful bastards to make her feel irrational. Just herself, the forest, and the hunt.

Yet, the conversation she had with Gin played out in her mind. There was no doubt in her mind she hated the woman.

A nearby sappling was cut short as she bowled through it.

Gin, after all, was everything Fangs was not. Elegant, poised, controlled. Leaf responded more to the velvet hand than to the icy claw.

The Wolf-Bitch was just another conquest to him. The Companion was... something else. It flamed her anger, this ignorance.

Burning Star of Demise: Even from a distance, the scent of ozone is strong in the air. A crimson glow stretches across the horizon, and the crackling sound of fire and lightning accompany every step. Without context, it would simply be a pretty nest, if a bit colorful... but it is spaced between trees the size of mountains, titanic branches holding up a ring of fire and thunder, a great palatial complex shaped like eggs and crafted only of finest marble cradled within the architecture of destruction.

This is where the proud lunar must step. This is where they wait. They are writing down her mistakes. They are documenting her downfall.

Fangs-of-Winter: The mountain breeze blows back the proud banner of her ivory hair, and she moves proud and undefiant in the fact of such ominous tidings, for what horror was there in this world greater than her?

Muscles flexed under tattooed flesh, the scar of her Abjuration tingled faintly along her throat, her voice yurning to give loose its howl, to allow her foes the knowledge of just whom they faced.

She smiled, wickedly. Let them drown in their ignorance.

Her markings glowed as she moved under the sway of her anima, moving as a stray ray of silver light up the chains that held aloft the mountain. She braced her steps upon the backs of eagles, and her claws bit into stone to give her purchase as she reached the base.

Burning Star Of Demise: Guardlings shaped like doves flit hither and yon, small fae colored to represent each grace subserviant to the sword. They sing of the sword, the slashes and cuts, the thrusts and parries, the end of all things in Creation written in the feathers of a great bird. A flower blossoms out of the flame, long petals curling forth to touch the proud lunar's face. "What business have you here? What drives you to harm such beauty?"

Fangs-of-Winter: She doesn't reply immediately, she merely keeps her dreadful smile. Her breath came through her fangs, icy and burning. The petals grew icy and grey with her nearness.

She lifted her hands, and brushed away the flower, and left it smeared with her blood, for the fanged bracelet at her wrist had bit her deeply, and a slow steady trickle ran forth.

Leaving her path writ in blood.

"I have come, and you shall bow at my coming.," she announced.

Burning Star Of Demise: Steam, crimson and gold, ten thousand dragons birthed of her sacrifice, coil forth to twine in her hair and whisper in her ears, forked tongues flickering as they share words of poetry. The beauty of the end, the end of beauty, and the knowledge that bowed is not broken as she shall be, cast down in pieces to grow the rage of the world until it bursts forth, too hot to hold and cracking the sky. It is not a threat, they say. She should be thankful that their lord promises this much.

Fangs-of-Winter: She curled one of the serpents around her taloned fingers, and brought it close to her lips. She gazed into its serpentine eyes, and knew it was but a small thing, born of her. She let it fall from her hand, even as they writhed in her hair, and raised her head back.

The Fangs-of-Winter let forth her howl.

And it was as if the world shattered.

In the boundless depths of chaos, Nirhkirya stired in his timelessness. A thing greater than all the lands of shape, greater than the dreams of the Primordials that glanced it, shifted its timeless thoughts for a spec of time onto the shores of Creation.

Her howl was certainy. The certainy of eternity. The certainy of desolution. There was no power against it. There was no struggle.

It was Doom Knell.

At the sound, color fled from the serpents that writhed in her hair, and heat left their flesh. The spirits of red, purple, yellow, green and all colors of life fled for sake of their own, a monochgromatic dreamscape in its wake. The doves fell dead, hearts burst from there terror, and the earth trembled as she held the note.

The flawless stone beneth them cracked.

Burning Star of Demise: Weight. The life she has taken presses down on her, the corpses of the dragons and the falling doves anchor her more surely than any chain. The heart's blood coils within her veins, pressing down, draining her strength as once she drained theirs.

Fear. Her howl cracks the world, and through the cracks glorious light pours through. Flame in the purest form, not so much the element as the idea, the ideal, the perfection of devouring. a rain of metal pours forth from the weeping sky to form the kneeling figure of a fae, towering so high that even on a knee his head rises above hers like a parent to a child. He smiles, leaving her breathless... voiceless.

"That was not so bad, child... but please, if you are going to challenge me here, do not profane my good name with your blasphemy."

Fangs-of-Winter: She grins at that, even as she could give no reply. His smile burned in her throat, even as his serpents fell from her. She stepped forward, unaffraid. She smiled at him..

...baring her namesake.

Half-dream, half-flesh, her fangs knew the final screams of a dozen cataphori.

Still, it was gratifying to find one worth of them. The muscles of her body tensed, and she charged the Raksha.

Elegance was for kitsune.

Burning Star Of Demise: Still refusing to stand, the long shadow of his arm reaches across the walkway as his hand clasps her head, a thumb pressed firmly into her eye as he draws out a star encased in a cage at the end of a chain, purple fire pouring forth to surround them, curtain them off from the outside world. It is only them now.

Fangs-of-Winter: She was unphased by the fire, for the star of her eye was of her own vision, and nothing could defeat her gaze once she set it on something. She dives through the fire, headless of its burning tongues, and reaches toward him with outstretched claws.


Burning Star Of Demise: The flame burns. The hot air rushes out, holding her away. The fire trickles along her back, rushes along her front, twisting and turning to shake her grip. The star falls, chain wrapping around her shoulders in an intricate constellation of chains, straining against her motion.

There is the quiet snap of metal bones, the moaning of motes forcibly drained, and the crackle of flame to cover their battle. A body unmatched in perfection by any real form strains to break free, a star slithers across her body, searing it with the pure essence of endings and change, and in the end, the titan simply smiles and smashes his head into hers once, twice, thrice to knock her to the ground.

Fangs-of-Winter: Fangs form wasn't meant to be perfect. It was only meant to be deadly. She knew the taste of his blood now, felt the metalic twing of his bones crushing on her endlessly powerful jaws. She was Luna'a child, and she was worthy.

She grasped the Fair Folk like a lover, his chains carressing her form even as he attempted to bring his head down like kisses upon her brow. She smiled silently, and gave him another love bite to remember her by.

Burning Star Of Demise: His fangs clink against his, and somehow he has a grin on his face as his tongue pushes out to twine with hers. It would be a taunt, a strange joke for one who's thus far been losing. But suddenly, his mouth spits fire, rushing down her throat and burning in her gullet. Suddenly, he inhales, and her spirit coils as the fire tries to rip it forth from her.

Fangs-of-Winter: Fangs-of-Winter was not one to be taunted.

Her muscles flexed as she channeled the power of Luna into her muscles, her eyes wide with rage. Anger, pure and terrible, caused her muscles to tremble with wrath. The swirling tattoos that covered her form began to burn a brilliant silver, her breath turning the ichor on her fangs solid and cold. With all her rage, with all her hate, she struck at him again.

Oddly, she thought of Leaf.

Burning Star Of Demise: Blood thick like lava pours from his cheek, a large crimson tear caught by the curve of his grin, trickling across his lips to drip down her chest. "Are you running out of strength, little one? How can you hope to consume the fire that burns the world to ash? How can you dare to strive against the perfect ravening flame? I like you. If you will but swear unto me, I will adorn you with the Graces of the fallen when the time comes."

Fangs-of-Winter: She considers this for a moment.

A mayflies life.

She grins fearly back at him, and presses her attack. Of course, she could not respond. It would take her too long to recover it, and by then it would be over. Her fangs fell again, even as he finished his offer.

When he bowed to her, only then would she relent.

Burning Star Of Demise: Her fangs find no purchase. Rough metal scrapes along her body, fire seems to caress her, and she finds herself on her hands and knees, knelt before the ethereal figure of flame that holds an end of the chain still wrapped around her. He stands tall, defiant of his wounds... like a master unconcerned with scratches from playing with a favorite pet.

Her breath dies within her lungs, the oxygen burned out of it as the star flares up. The room whirls as the elemental form of the fae joins with the curtain of fire, sheer white and red mixed with the curtain of the purple. He seems to intend on simply waiting her out... Tiring her out, here in his home.

Fangs-of-Winter: Fire did not burn moonlight.

Chains could not hold the North.

She would not be broken by this petty dreamer in a radiment of his own petty glory. Her muscles flexed like iron hues, and she shattered the chains.

She rose to her feet, and as the ravening wolf, she came for him again.

She held the Fair Lord in her taloned hands. Her skin was matted with blood from wounds that had sealed seconds after being inflicted. Her knee on his abdomine, her face into his, she her hand gripped around the stalk of his neck.

"Yield to me," she said, her voice was harsh, "Or you will never see your vision."

Her hand grew tighter around his throat, and her eyes, like blue-silver pools, bore into his.

Burning Star Of Demise: "Your strength of purpose is to be commended... I will yield a favor, but no more. Some things are not worth the price, and defeat is one."

Fangs-of-Winter: "You will so swear on your one and True Heart that, in both action and intent, or with aide or motivation, to never harm any group in who's community a likeness of me is worshipped, nor harm any who bare my mark. So you will swear, or so you will die."

BurningStarOfDemise: "Swearing that would be worse than death itself. Your skills have earned you a boon, in the ways of my people, but not outright slavery."

Fangs-of-Winter: She leaned a little closer, "I could always just mount your head on a pike to prove my divinity. It would also serve the same cause, I should think." She smiled down at him, humorlessly. "Yes, perhaps that is best." She raised her claw, a silouette against the light behind it.

Burning Star Of Demise: "As you wish." He reaches up, and with a strange crackling pop his head comes loose, held out as an offering on one hand. "If your rites earn you power, and my eyes watch over your rites and people... think of me, and feed some dreams to my flames. I will make a pact with you in trade."

Fangs-of-Winter: She seems to consider his offer, "I will place your head near my statue. There, you will watch over the rites they make, and in return, I shall allow you to sip from the emotions I will stir in them." She seems to get an eery little smile, "For I desire warriors, not sheep. Inflame them and sip from this tea we brew. What say you?"

BurningStarOfDemise: "I will dine on their fears and nightmares, rend their weaknesses from their body and devour them... But you must return to me when a star burns on my brow, and we will do battle again."

Fangs-of-Winter: "So we are in accord, and these things do I vow."

  • Burning Star Of Demise almost gently sets her aside, the chain slowly slacking and loosening from her body like a disappointed serpent. "These things I vow. Be careful with my head, wolfling. I'll be taking it back soon."

Fangs-of-Winter: She takes up his head, and smirks a little. "With all the care you have shown me." With that, she places the head in a pouch at her side. It was not dead, but it would serve. She half expected the Fair Folk would just grow another when she left.


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