GoldenCat/DandD

From Exalted - Unofficial Wiki
Revision as of 19:01, 23 May 2006 by GoldenCat (talk)
Jump to: navigation, search

Defiance and Defilement

The cold steel bites her hands...
Arms stretched far up, held by chains, holding her a few inches from the ground.
She is not the Dark Angel - devoid of her black leather, bare skin to the cold air...

The leotard is still in place, but not her gloves, nor her boots, showing all the scars that they hide... making Selina exposed to all around her. When she looks around, she notices the delicately-falling snow all around her, and the song of the windmill above...

She is tied up within a windmill on Windia, one made of glass, allowing her to see everything outside... all of her land. Or at least, an idealised version of it that allows all that matters to be seen in one glance. She wakes in a dream to see herself there... and nothing else, and no one else around....

Selina de Windia: The day had been somewhat pleasant, but not so her dreams. They had been filled with paranoia, past betrayals both in this life and those before. Rain. Thrice-Burned Ennoia. Glittering Feather. The red empress. But most of all, from the one she had lived out most of the First Age as.

Moranine's tightly controlled rage suffused her as this dream dawned, her shame and all her thwarted ambition for her designs. Even from within the shards of memories which littered her mind like the countless glass pieces of Chiaroscuro, that personality was strong.

The steel bit her hands, the wind bit the rest of her. There was no pleasurable sensation, nothing to herald the involvement of that one had her once, had lusted after her since the FA sank into the depths of time. There was no visible torment nor figure, which meant only one other could be responsible for this.

Her voice whispers, Moranine's modulated underneath it, the Dragon's rumble underlying both of them. "Heartless One... L-lover!" The tone rises, fury boiling beneath the surface, escaping at times. "Have you come, at last, TO SET ME FREE?" Her voice is loud now, echoing throughout the dream-city. "Or have you come to gloat upon my TWISTED FORM?!"

She chokes back a sob, of rage or sadness or shame, even she cannot tell. The three-timbred voice quiets to regret as she looks down to the ground. "No, no, no nononono...not her. She does not forgive..." Her gaze comes back up with even more baleful venom than before, teeth bared and eyes slit.

"AND NEITHER DO I, YOU TRAITOROUS OLD WRETCH!"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: She appears, all around her, in the glass.... a mere reflection. Looking at Selina, surprised.

"So, it is true...." the image steps out of the mirrror, out of the reflection, regarding the angel. "... you are losing yourself to that woman." her breath comes cold, and as the Lover feels a chill, the room is chilled with her. "Do you even know which you are right now?"

Selina de Windia: "Which woman?" Selina asks, the other two tones still beneath her voice, body tensing from the cold, and more from the fury. "There are so many women inside me! So very, very many!"

She was right. The ones she had lived. The ones she had devoured. At least, trace amounts of the latter. "But her, yes, and I had her BEFORE I CAME TO YOU. But not as strong..."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: The Lover keeps her distance. Something within calls even the respect of a Deathlord. "You always had her. She is you. But I have not betrayed her - not any more than she has betrayed me. She did not see my way, any more than I saw hers'."

Selina de Windia: The shame flickers again into her eyes. Remembering when she lay dying. She turned her head, so they wouldn't see the light go out of her eyes. The shame of it all. They had killed her Ofaniel, they had destroyed her greatest work. But she had betrayed them, hadn't she?

No...

"What do you want..." She asks wearily, most of the modulation gone from her voice.

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "I want to talk to you. To my Dark Angel. Aine Blackwater. She has done great work for me lately." The Lover says, getting more comfortable now that Selina is quieting down... but still disquieted all the same, knowing why the sorrow. All that she had lost... all that she had made... "Even if she has not done all I asked of her, she has done a great work indeed."

Selina de Windia: "You are speaking to her." The Windian says in a low voice, looking away. "The rest are just memories. And the Dragon."

"I have made nothing worth the title 'great'."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "Yes. You have not. But not yet But you walk among the great. You moaned it to my Prince of Shadows how great he was, did you not? Your eyes follow my Pale Angel as if she was your sun, do they not?" She chuckles, finally in solid ground once again. The echoes of That Woman were fading. "My works, Dark Angel."

"My works."

Selina de Windia: She looks back at the Lover, almost smiling, more of a smirk right now. A mocking, self-deprecating smirk. "You didn't make me. You just added that last bit needed to make me complete. I was everything else before I ever came to you, Lover. I was the winged death before I came to you, a honorless slut before I came to you, the kinslayer of the north before I came to you!"

"...but not great. You may assign that description to me if you wish." She chuckles, looking at the Lover with some appetite. "Now the Pale Angel's eyes follow me."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: The Deathlord walks up to her, touching the scar on her navel, the red scar... "Oh, you are. You were death even before, and those who made you kill only used what was there. You were a slut, all of His wives are so as well. But you were not death. Fanged death, devourer, Culwyeh. All that is mine." There is essence on her breath, and a red tinge in the glass all around Selina. "Oh, they do? I believe what I will tell you today will simply be the coup de grace, then."

Selina de Windia: "Oh? What is that?" She asks, curiously, repressing the bile of bitterness rising in her throat.

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "Simple. This is an official edict from me - you now have field command over the Pale Angel, and overall Field Command on my forces in Whiteshield. Only the Prince of Shadows and the young princess of Whiteshield, when she is ready, supercede you in this." She says, her smile cutting.

"The Pale Angel answers to you now."

Selina de Windia: I might have abused this a few weeks ago...

Too late for now though.

"Um..." Selina pauses for a moment, considering the rammifications of this. "Why do I get this now? In fact, why am I getting this at all? And do I also have authority to entreat in your name?"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "Because I am not wholly sure my Pale Angel is able to fulfill her duties. Much as you have not with the boy."

"And yes, you have the authority."

Selina de Windia: "The boy was seperated from my presence for a long time." Selina replies, shivering from the cold for a moment. "I am amused she lay with him instead of that... coward."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "And thankful. And glad. It would hurt you if she did. Do not pretend, Dark Angel." She leans closer, her fingers playing over the scar once again, "I can see within all that is mine. I know how you would have felt if she had lain with Bastian."

Selina de Windia: She breathes in not with her stomach, but her chest, her belly contracting away from the deathlord's touch on that scar, even over her leotard. But the breath has a hiss in it too, of red hot fury. "I'd hurt him more." She growls, breathing out in a plume of steam air. "I would flay him alive. And whisper 'friend' in response to his every pathetic scream..."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "Yes. You would." She says, and a smile comes to her perfect face.

"You seem to have a pair of great beauties with you now. You intend to meet her again, right? The lady with the crimson hair?"

Selina de Windia: How did SHE know about Charmaine? Well, no matter...it didn't matter what Selina was ordered to do or told not to do. The Vestal was not a factor she could control.

"I think I will whether I intend to or not."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "And of your retinue?" The Deathlord asks, simply.

Selina de Windia: Why was she asking her? If she was asking, she knew enough of them. "A Solar and a Dragon-Blooded. Former servants of the crimson haired deathknight. You already know of them, it seems."

Her voice grows a bit more sly. "And what else do you know...that you aren't telling me?" She chuckles under her breath, the action making the puffs of steam come out in bursts. "Or that you want me to spill without being asked."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "I have agents on the Boil. You know this much. And the red-haired Deathknight..." She came closer, just to whisper, "... I guessed." She takes a step back, watching the Dark Angel... "And they are yours, now."

Selina de Windia: "The Windwraith may try to take them." Selina muses darkly. "I do not know if he is as much of a bastard as he was. For the moment it does not...seem that way." She admits, at least, from the evidence she has.

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "And you avoid to talk about them. Ashamed? Embarassed? Unsure? Those do not fit you, Culwyeh."

Mirror and Blade floating about her, she watches the Dark Angel through her veils... and her musings on the Windwraith. "He is dangerous. But you keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

Selina de Windia: "There is not much to say about them." She replies, moving against the chains a bit, wishing she could get free of them. "The Dragoness uses me as a surrogate for the Bishop's deathknight."

"The best way to keep him close is not yet possible for me, alas."

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: She walks closer to Selina, and spiders of ice come from the Lover's Cerulean and Sable ankle-length robes, walking up to the Dealord's arms, and as she touches Selina, they walk over the Deathknight... one over each breast. "Yes, it is not. You do not like it? To be used as her mistress? All you have to do is become her mistress, instead of playing at being the nun. But that is not all of your retinue. You are ommitting the Lunar." The spiders bite then, acting as clamps to her nipples, sending the sharp pain over the skin-tight leotard. "Do not dare to think I do not know, Dark Angel."

Selina de Windia: Selina hisses in pain, fury mixed in. "What of him? I told you of him before!"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: The Lover just watches. She says nothing in reply but smile.

Selina de Windia: "He is my Ofaniel, and YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM."

The Windian is, however, both flexible and fairly strong. Lifting her lower body up like a gymnst, leaning her head down and forward, and snaps at one of the spiders of ice with those now-razored teeth of hers.

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: Her hand moves, so fast. And yet, not violent. A movement that could be part of a dance, of a flirt. It holds the Dark Angel's jaw, placing it up. "I can have whatever I want, Child, but I would not cross my own."

She takes piece of the spider out of Selina's teeth with the other hand, "I wonder about you. But you have answered me already."

Selina de Windia: Selina shakes her body violently, attempting to get the other spider off of her chest, then looks at the Lover with a suspicious expression. "Why? What do you wonder about me?"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: She holds Selina's face. No thrashing. She was far too wild, yes, far too wild...

And yet, that wild nature made the Deathlord smile.

"Worried, if he was yours. Ofaniel was Ofaniel. You have met afterwards, and he has not been Ofaniel..."

"And you... you are a mistress. You should not fall to such an obvious trap... you are a mistress, you are a monster. That is what you are, my Dark Angel. My favorite."

"My favorite out of all my children."

Selina de Windia: Selina's eyes widen, then narrow in amusement as it finally dawns on her, what had occured to her in fleeting fashion before and been swiftly forgotten. She smiles wickedly, and her voice lilts poisonously.

"More favorite than the Pale Angel?"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "She is dear to me. However, you are my favorite. You are simply in different scales, my farvored servant. But on that scale you surpass her, and have the command over her. As soon as you have time, you have the mission to look for another one of my pretties - the Feral Shadow of Azure and Mauve is gone, and I cannot find his dreams."

She holds the spider, making it clamp harder... "In addition to your former duties, of course."

Selina de Windia: "You mean I have to clean up Rain's mess." She growls, looking down at the spider. "I'm afraid the Pale Angel invalidated one of my 'former duties'."

She didn't add the 'Just as I was hoping she would' bit, though.

"Where am I supposed to find him?"

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "I have no idea, my dear. You are the one to look, not me." She caresses down on Selina, another spider coming to replace the one Selina took off.... "And, on the Pale Angel... you now possess authority over her, do you not?"

Selina de Windia: She saw where this was headed. Selina was going to be the one to order Alex's corruption, wasn't she? She didn't get away from the responsibility at all, merely would be ordering it now instead of doing it.

But maybe that had not occured to the Lover. Slim hope though it might be.

"I do, yes." Selina answers warily.

Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears: "Well then. You have the tools for it. I look foward to see how well you do. My Dark Angel. Growing into a Mistress. My favorite." The Lover kissess her. A long, domineering kiss, then steps back, the glass breaking all around them... reality invading the dream as she begins to wake up... "I would wish you good luck. But we do not need that. We have power, my dear."

Selina de Windia: "Yes, Mistress." Selina snarls, and the only emotion left to her as the dream begins to break up and reality intrude on her sleeping is...rage.