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Subject: Clipping a Raven's Wings (Realm ~ Rose)
Date: Sat, Apr 11, 1998 22:12 EDT
From: BloodRdRse
It's been a difficult journey, to say the least. Between keeping her fist clenched as tightly as possible for the duration, and leaning across every so often to land a blow to his temple, her arms have become rather sore ...and her patience worn thin... by the time the carriage draws up at the gate.
His temple... he... he is the figure crouched opposite, chained to a tethering ring at the floor lest he wake prematurely... He started out so perfectly, such a beautiful young man, with warm brown eyes and flawless skin... that mane... and that kiss... a confection at the candy counter that she could not resist...
But now, she's beginning to wonder at the wisdom of bringing him back to the estate... the flesh around his throat is shredded raw from his own efforts at removing the silver chain... a pity, really, that he felt he had to fight... she does prefer her properties in prime condition, after all... and now there are the beginnings of bruises to add to the anger of welts...
As the carriage rumbles up to a stop, and the gates creak open in welcome, Rose bursts out of the coach, so that the door shuts behind her with a clatter, and leaps to the ground before even allowing her driver a chance to lower the step.
Frustrated, and all the more deadly because of it, she tosses the whip handle several feet away and pivots back, creating a small cloud of dust at her heels. She lifts a warning hand to the coachman, who cringes back with many muttered apologies... Hat in hand, he backs away, then turns tail down the Gallica Path.
"Have the dogs brought out," she calls after him, with an imperious upsweep of her chin.
And then her attention is back to the carriage. Raven will have to be subdued,
somehow, and put safely away before she is allowed to go to her day's unholy
rest.
Anger, on Rose, is a mask of liquid chill, and in the wavering lamp light,
her skin is ice, her eyes like shards of emerald frost, and her smile frozen
in a serenity too angelic to be real.
Lifting a gloved hand away from its rest at her hip, she advances one step,
then another, and nudges the carriage door open once more. Its hinges squeal,
and with an impatient twitch at the corner of her grin, she turns a wary
gaze on the package inside, to see if he's begun to stir...
Subject: Re: Clipping a Raven's Wings (Realm ~ Raven)
Date: Sun, Apr 12, 1998 17:33 EDT
From: RvnIndigo
::the Gallica Path proper is the glass-covered tunnel that leads from
the gate into the house, but where the carriage is presently parked is just
outside the gates, at the dismounting block... to the right is the mouth
of another path, the road leading back to the carriage house, but on all
other sides there is nothing but the murky darkness of jungle, and the occasional
echoing howl of a night bird::
~+As Rose turns to peer into the carriage, all she finds are the chains,
with her prisoner nowhere in sight+~
::a feral snarl suddenly curdles her smile, and with eyes flashing verdant
rage, she slams the carriage door, rocking the transport on its
foundations::
~+The chains are covered with ants, some even appear to be crawling on her as well+~
::but its a little hard to tell, with the suit of black latex as dark as the night itself... still, when one of the little critters makes its way onto her glove, she flicks it away, and with a groan of annoyance, her curvature melts away, to a thin tendril of charcoal smoke::
~+The ants form together back inside the carriage, and then turn to water, spilling out from the cracks along the carriage's confines and onto the floor outside, out of the water, his structure resolidifies, and he stands before her, just as he was the night before+~
::but she's no longer standing there, just a wisp of smoke where she once was, along with the not-too-subtle perfume of wild roses... and the echo of breathless laughter::
~+When they first met, with no indication of being beaten at all, or for that matter, visible wounds, he frowns slightly at his host's disappearing act, glancing around at his new surroundings, mutters in a slightly annoyed tone+~ Amatuers.
::and just at that moment, the coachman comes rambling back up the Gallica Path, or rather is *dragged* along, at the behest of a pair of regal Dobermans, marching in perfect unison, but somehow anxious to reach the gates.. and their Mistress::
~+He hears footsteps, and instinctively, his arm morphes into a long slender blade, turning toward the direction of that which he hears+~
Rudolf... Gregor... ::comes the ghostly whisper, and the mist seems to tremble...
the coachman, spotting the glint of the new blade, releases the leashes and
turns tail again, but the dogs charge ahead, screaming to a halt just at
the other side of the gate and barking furiously::
~+He watches him run, then shoots a glance at the barking dogs, he morphes
into a rather oversized lion and roars furiously right back at them, nearly
leaping at them with his massive claws+~
::just a little daunted, they shift to silence, but true to their Mistress,
they remain stolidly in place, safe behind the curtain of the gate's grating...
and it is that moment when Rose chooses to appear again, the shadows unfolding
into an oil-slicked hourglass... alighting just behind him, and lifting gloved
hands to her hips, she levels a deadly glare at the beast and hisses, low
and breathy:: ...I wouldn't touch the dogs if I were you...
~+As the dogs silence, he morphes back, an amused laughter escapes him...Upon
hearing Rose's voice, he turns around, a devilish smile dancing on his lips+~
Ah, good. You came back. It is you, after all, I came to play with.
But you have to play nice... ::a suddenly cloying smile appearing on her
lips, her lashes fluttering wildly, as she begins a predatory circling around
him::
~+He grins slyly, his form looks slightly different than before, a tattoo
of a foreign symbol seems to have remained constant in his latest shaping
shifting, he looks sweaty, and a bit more tired than before, clearly all
those beatings against his temple have drained him not to mention the rapid
change in his body's structure+~
::still circling, she lifts one hand to her mouth, tugging the glove off
in her teeth and tossing it into the dirt, not far from the discarded whip
handle... and with claws clicking like nervous cicadas, she runs that hand
along the back of his neck, still so enamoured of his perfect beauty... in
spite of how exhausted he looks::
~+His eye color the same as it was before, a light shade of brown, he smiles
slightly at her touch, his skin is feverish+~
::in violent contrast, hers is crypt-cold, an ice to cool the fire, and she
trails that chill touch along his jawline, riding up to trace the outline
of his lips, and then hovering a little closer, bringing her mouth to within
a hair's breadth of his::
~+He shivers slightly, his warm hand glides along her cheek once more, trailing
down along the soft flesh of her throat, he kisses her deeply, his other
hand slipping around her waist once more, his soft tanned flesh nearly like
fire to the touch+~
::and her lips are deceptively soft, yielding under the pressure of his kiss...
but where is the greed of the night before?... it'll resurface eventually,
no doubt... reaching to the small of her back, she wraps her hand around
his... so gently... and guides it over swells to the zipper that lies just
below her throat::
~+His fingertips find the zipper, drawing it down to expose her hidden treasures
beneath the cold back latex suit that covers her body, he pulls it down further,
pulling the suit down with it+~
::drawing away ever so slowly, she whispers, a deviant grin lighting the
emerald of her eyes:: (vsw) You're free to go, you know... ::could it be?...
or is it another of her lies?::
Ah but I was free the moment you thought you had captured me, Rose. ~+His
fingertip grazing her lips as she backs away+~ And the game is only
beginning...
Indeed... ::she purrs, aristocratic and velveteen to the last, in spite of
the fire running rampant through her soulless veins... flicking the fingertip
away with her own, she takes a step back, her smile nothing if not serene,
and absently begins fumbling with her zipper as she sashays towards the
gate::
~+As she turns away, he blinks slightly, feeling the strain he has put on
his powers, he waivers slightly, shifting the weight on his feet from one
to the other, using the majority of his powers to conceal his true form,
that in which he is most vulnerable+~
~+Yet signs of fatigue are already resurfacing - such as the tattoo which
takes a rather massive amount of power to conceal since it was burnt into
the skin on his true form+~
::oblivious to the strain and the stuggle going on behind her, she pauses
at the other side of the gate, dipping at the waist and reaching down to
stroke her beloved pets, one after the other... calling over her shoulder::
...Make your way out by the jungle path, if you can... or follow along, if
you like... ::with a sudden glance back, and a sloe-eyed grin::
...Perhaps you should opt for the latter.. it looks as though you could use
the rest...
~+He nods slightly, staggering towards her, he wipes the sweat from his brow,
nearly falling over+~ Perhaps...I should... Just for a little while. ~+He
nods slightly at this notion, then passes out a few steps in front of her+~
~+His form lying on the floor before her like a fallen angel, doesn't stir,
doesn't move, nor does he make a single sound, his powers drained+~
::wheeling around with a slight start, she lifts both hands (one gloved,
one completely bare) to her hips, and lifts her chin in an imperious upsweep...
perhaps, just perhaps, the night's work is about to end, and the pleasure
to begin... crossing one sleek leg before the other, she saunters over, and
nudges at his ribs (gently, gently) with one gloss-black toe::
~+Doesn't budge, remains very still+~
::testing him once more (it pays to be cautious in her game) with a poke
to the ribs, she finally bends again, and if he were conscious, he might
get a pretty nice shot of that award-winning cleavage.. but alas... hooking
her arms beneath his, she drags him to his feet (it also pays to be a vampire
- most women couldn't manage a feat like that), but not without a rather
unladylike grimace::
~+His wieght seems to be less than when she was dragging him from the Tavern,
as if he had been fooling her all along back then, now only weighing about
as much as sack of potatoes+~
::still, she's a little tired herself... and dawn is fast approaching...
so if there's a great deal of difference, she doesn't really notice... with
a brief, shrill whistle, she calls the Dobermans to her side and begins to
make her way - albeit a little clumsily - down the length of the glass-domed
Gallica Path::
~~~~~~~~~~
::the going through the Robsart Study and down into the crypt isn't exactly
easy, but thank goodness for the slick marble floors, which allow her to
let him hang a bit lower, and drag him along, unobstructed.. and she mutters
all the while, wondering where that blasted coachman got off to::
~+Dreams the dreams mortals never dared to dream, yet slowly begins to awake,
his tired eyes glancing about for a moment, then closing, then opening back
up again as he attempts to focus on something, anything, yet total and utter
fatigue hinders this, and his head hangs low once again+~
::what he sees in those brief moments are walls and flooring blending
seamlessly... this is no illusion - the marble surfaces flow one into the
other, the whole glowing with an eerie luminescence, with no apparent source
of light visible... she pauses, at last, just before a crimson drape, and
with a wriggle of those delectable hips, nudges her way back into the room,
dragging him over rich wool carpeting and dropping him there, in the center
of so
much opulence::
~+His eyes open once more to focus in on the ceiling as he is dropped, not
really moving, tries to speak, yet is words are in a foreign tongue not of
this world, nor the next, but someplace else and are nearly inaudible to
begin with anyway+~
::again, all he sees is the richness of curtains, wine-colored velvet running
from the ceilings like rivers of aged blood... that, and the diabola of her
smile, as she leans over to study him... at his attempt to speak, she replies
with little more than a playful pout... and tossing those flame curls over
one shoulder, she rights herself again, and circles around his prone figure,
making her way to the wardrobe at the far side of the room::
~+His eyes follow her as she circles him, he blinks slightly, then sits up,
looking around the room+~ Where am I... ~+He asks softly, thinking perhaps
this game has taken a whole new unexpected route+~
You're home, darling... ::comes her muffled chirping, as she leans into the
cabinet... her posterior is in full view, and little else::
Home? ~+Raises an eyebrow, turning to Rose+~ Ah. You again. ~+Rises to his
feet, though stumbles...Apparently his energies haven't fully returned to
him+~
::but soon a wild array of objects come flying out of the wardrobe and land
pell mell on the floor behind her... latigo straps... one of a pair of hideous
platform heels... a PVC jacket (screaming red, of course)... and when she
emerges it is with a new whip in one hand, and a glove in the other::
~+Frowns lightly+~ Ready for more, are ya? ~+Staggers toward her, then falls
again+~
::with a sparkling grin, she glances up, then down as he falls, watching
it all with unchanging bliss etched into her features:: I am... but I suppose
the question remains... are you?
Of course I am ~+Manages to mutter, already beginning to fall asleep once
again+~
Of course you are... ::she croons, this time with the gentility of mother
to child... slipping into a feline crouch beside him, she curls the bullwhip
around one hand, and caresses his temple with the other... but the delicacy
is short-lived, as she rears back, insuring her own day's rest with another
blow, this one to the back of his head::
~+Instantly is knocked unconsious+~
Subject: Re: Clipping a Raven's Wings (Realm ~ Rose)
Date: Fri, Apr 17, 1998 21:15 EDT
From: BloodRdRse
::some kind of preternatural inner alarm clock causes her eyelids to flutter,
and with a coo and a sigh, she rolls on the sumptuous bed, so that the folds
of her robe fall away in all the most convenient places, and stretches towards
the edge, beyond the cushions - her first thought to check the status of
the chains holding her new captive in bed beside her::
~+Already having been awake for quite some time now, he appears to be in
top shape, no visible wounds mar his perfect flesh, the feeling of fatigue
has totally loss him, yet he is not beside her, only empty shackles of where
he once lay, he stands in the room, looking around, then turns, sensing her
awaken+~
::easing back into the cushions, she fixes him with a coquettish grin, and
makes some half-hearted attempt at tugging the cream-colored satin over her
bare curvature:: So I can't keep you chained, I see... well then I suppose
you'll have to find your way out on your own... but I'm told that a man can
spend three lifetimes searching these catacombs, unless he knows the way
precisely...
~+He smiles at her+~ I know of a few ways...but I cannot leave... ~+Is absorbed
into the floor, vanishing from where he once stood, and reforms out of the
satin sheet, not even a few steps in front of her on the bed+~ The game has
not ended.
::with an absent flourish of her fingertips (and a subtle, almost undetected,
roll of her eyes), she peels herself from the bed, slipping one sleek leg
after the other and taking to the floor with a sinuous stretch:: And what
sort of play did you have in mind, then?
You ask...way too many questions... ~+Smiles, backflipping onto the floor
with grace, without making a single sound+~
And you make far too many obtuse comments... ::launching from the edge of
the bed with a cat's ease, finally tightening that sash at her waist, and
padding across the carpet, to the vanity table in the corner... his feat
apparently having gone unnoticed::
~+His brown eyes watch, leaning back slightly+~ Perhaps... ~+A mirror image
of himself forms out Rose's shadow as he speaks to her, its eyes are a bright
crimson that begins to glow as he solidifies+~ But if I was more... ~+Gestures
off-handedly as if he were thinking of the right words+~ Well... not that
it matters... It would simply take away the mystery. I mean... ~+Glancing
over at his shadow double+~ You don't even know my name.. ~+At
those words, the mirror image behind Rose slams his fist against her temple,
knocking her to the floor+~
::and the glass jar, of rich cobalt, goes flying from her hand and scatters
its contents just as she is strewn in the opposite direction... but before
her figure can even touch the ground, it is swallowed in shadow, the molecules
of her curvature blurring and distorting, then leaving a milky silhouette
behind on the air... and little more::
~+Frowns again+~ Damn. ~+Glances at his double+~ You lost her. ~+The twin
frowns right back at the original+~
::and from that vanilla smoke comes the subtle undercurrent of laughter,
and the whispers of a thousand voices, all speaking in tongues, coming from
every corner of the room, and from nowhere, all at once:: ...But why... why
should I need to know your name...
~+The double walks to the original and both form together into one...he listens
patiently+~
…All of my properties are called the same... Pet... ::the last word
sinking away in a tremolo hiss, as fine tendrils of mist curl up into the
air, and settle to hover at the top of the vanity table once more::
Pet. ~+Snorts+~ As if you could ever beat me. ~+Clearly, this form Raven
took while with Rose, is having quite an effect on it's character+~
Nonethelessss... ::the very air around her seems to waver, as that hiss tapers
off to nothing, and then in come the mad babbling voices again, a chorus
of dementia overtaking the room, then dying off just as quickly:: ...I've
no desire to know your name... unless perrrhaps you'd like to give me something..
to taunt you with... as you make your way through the catacombs...
How do you know you're in the catacombs, Rose? ~+Raises an eyebrow at her+~
How do you know this isn't all a dream...and where're still in the Tavern?
~+Tucks a loose strand of red hair behind an ear+~ No matter... ~+Smiles+~
Joseph will do nicely to taunt me with.
::her only apparent response is the outward billowing of shadow, swimming
free then molding itself into the shapely hourglass with which he is better
acquainted... and she perches atop the vanity, one leg wrapped over the other
and peeking from the folds of the satin robe, curls like a raging brush fire
settling over her shoulders, and the devil's own smile on her lips::
My mind does escape me... ~+Watches her reform atop the vanity, walking towards
her+~ Just how many times did you knock me against the temple? ~+Stops a
few steps before her+~ Not that I am one for... ~+Whispers+~ Revenge.. I
am just curious...that’s all. ~+Smirks a bit, nodding at this fact+~
::lifting a gloved fingertip, a quiet gesture, that perhaps he'd better keep
his place... her features serene, as always... she slips from the vanity
top and winds around past him, towards the corner wardrobe:: I never keep
count of the blows, darling... I'd lose my mind if I tried...::and pretty
soon, the clothing starts flying... jackets and shoes and odd bits of latex
and plastic... all landing in a careless pile on the floor behind her...
stopping only when she plucks out a cat suit, of oil-slicked gloss black,
identical to the one she wore on the night before.. and the robe goes the
way of the rest of the clothing, joining that pile on the floor::
~+He appears behind her, one arm slips around her waist, slowly pulling her
away from the corner wardrobe and into his grasp, his scent is like none
other, mere words cannot even describe its sense of enchantment, he whispers
into her ear softly+~ Why get dressed? ~+One hand slipping through the folds
of the falling her robe, the other glides along her arm grasping the oil-slicked
cat suit, as he kisses her neck softly+~
::the cloying perfume of roses presents some considerable competition, but
not quite enough to overpower that musk... she, too, seems to give in, leaning
back against his shoulder with a throaty purr and grinding against his hand...
but only for as long as it pleases her to do so, before, once again, she
collapses to nothing but a frothing cloud in his arms... and here comes that
damnable whispering again:: ...Tell me... why should I let you touch
me, just yet, when you've not even shown the proper respect?...
~+He puts his forefinger to his lips, pondering a moment at her words, laughs
softly, a smile forming on his lips+~ Such a greedy little vixen, aren't
you...
It's my place to be... ::with a few crystalline peals of laughter, as the
smoke swims up from between his arms and settles into a placid rest at his
shoulders::
~+He smiles again at her voice+~ To let me go would be so foolish on your
part...
And to continue to rebel is foolish on yours... ::slender fingers of smoke
slowly weaving their way into the links of his collar:: ...think, darling,
of all you could have... ::her voice nearly translucent as her form, and
reverberating with a gentle echo::
Perhaps... ~+Pauses a moment, never taking notice of the collar that surrounds
his neck, he folds his arms across his strong chest+~ But to give in...would
be betrayal on my part.. And besides... ~+He smiles again+~ It would take
all the fun out of it...
::the movement of smoke through the chain is like a kiss to his throat, an
effervescent lapping to tickle his skin as she tastes him with senses ethereal::
...oh, but there's so much more fun in store... but it can't really begin
until you stop fighting... ::and the links begin to shift, drawing in on
themselves by barely detectable fractions of degrees::
After all, darling...you seem to think that you can seduce and make people
your slaves...
And if I can't take this one, there's always a new one to come along the
next evening... ::there is an almost audible clink as the chain begins to
draw tighter about his throat, but still not quite enough to be uncomfortable..
yet::
Then you give up so easily... ~+Sensing something along his throat tighten
a bit.. His fingertips glide along the collar, frowns slightly, not having
noticed it before+~
And if I do? ::the chain jingling a bit, as though she were shrugging in
her mist-shrouded form:: ...It's all about making a quick profit and having
my pleasure when I demand it.. it doesn't pay to fight... ::so gentle, that
caress at his throat, the smoke winding over his skin with a lover's
touch::
Perhaps you are right... ~+Not really finding any point either, he too shrugs
lightly+~ ~+Closes his eyes slightly, feeling her near+~ But so many prisoners?
Are you never satisfied with one?
::so gentle, so soothing, like an amour's arms kneading at his shoulders,
to erase a lifetime of worries with a single touch... until, that is, with
a bellow like tympani rolling in a thunderstorm, the collar is ripped back
against his throat, hurling him towards the bed and the wall just beyond
it::
~+He blinks as he is pulled towards the bed, slightly annoyed at the unexpected
quickness that flung him near the wall, a tiny bit of green blood trickles
down from beneath the collar at the sudden jerk at his throat, his hands
glide to the collar, wincing slightly+~
Just one? ::shrieking with a banshee's laugh, as the cloud that she is billows
upward and spreads across the ceiling... her greed knows no bounds, truly...
and like an angel falling from the heavens (though she's sure he would never
liken her to something so seraphic) she takes shape once more as she descends
towards the bed::
Actually... ~+Tugging lightly at the collar+~ A better question would be...
~+His fingers turning to metal claws that lightly tap at the collar, as if
he were trying to pry it open+~ What’s with the chains?
::her descent is slowed by calculated hesitation, but not so the formation
of her bare curves, and she hovers just inches above him, stretching
tantalizingly slow on the air, her smile beatific:: ...Symbols... ::is all
she says, with a brief rise in both brows::
~+He looks up at her, taking her beauty, a smile forms on his lips, as she
hovers before him his claws reform into regular fingers, and he ceases to
fight against her, or so it seems, he reaches up to touch her face+~
Symbols?
::turning slightly to the side, she brushes her cheek deliberately against
his fingertips, and soon after, there is a glimpse of petal-pink, as her
tongue darts out, to run along the length of one of those daring digits::
...Symbols... ::she repeats, leaving the word to hover, unexplained, on the
air, an enigma wrapped in conundrum and shrouded in a mystery::
Ahh... ~+He nods slightly+~ I see... ~+His light brown eyes peer into hers
for a moment+~ Do you drink from your ... conquests? ~+Raises an eyebrow
at her, remembering the fangs from the night before+~
::those emeralds are sparkling cold, with the chill of fine wine or bottle
glass:: ...You see? ::comes her lush velveteen whisper:: Do you? Are you
sure? ::and with a glance to the droplets of green at his throat, her grin
curls to one of mild amusement:: I do... when I find the feast suitable...
~+He grins slyly+~ And how do you know if the...feast...is suitable without
a taste? One should never judge a book by its cover...
::reaching up, to take hold of his hand, she presses it against her cheek
for a long moment, then singles out one of his fingers, and taps it against
her own nose:: ...Good blood smells much like fresh ground cinnamon... ::in
other words, the nose always knows::
~+The scent of fresh ground cinnamon is quite apparent, yet with the hint
of something more, something indescribable+~
::oh, and it's so tempting, but she's seen far too many tricks from those
sleeves to give in now... something gentle does flicker into her features,
though, as she at last completes her descent, settling towards the bed and
wrapping her thighs over his::
Don't be frightened... ~+Sensing her hesitate before him, gives a reassuring
smile… He looks up at her, laying back against the bed, he glides his
hand along her thigh, caressing her soft skin with his hand, the other still
in hers, near her mouth, he watches her every move+~
::with a kittenish stretch, she molds herself against him, planting her palms
far past his shoulders and arching her hips back against his hand... her
eyelids begin to drift closed, and with a delicate click, the silver barbell
in her tongue raps against the back of her teeth, then finds its way out
to roll between either fang::
~+His arms slip around her as she nears him, his touch like that of an angel,
as his hands slip around her waist, and along her curves, feeling her, touching
her, awaiting her bite… His scent a bit stronger than before, almost
like a spell.. His voice soft, quite hypnotic+~ Just a taste... ~+He
smiles+~
::her reply is a feline grin, lazy and reluctant, but her eyes are those
of an opium-eater - no need to invite her twice... diving down towards him,
she does take a taste, but likely not the one he intended, as her tongue
runs along the inside of his throat, over the links of the chain, and down
towards the collar of his shirt, where she pries anxiously at fabric, to
push it away from his skin::
~+He runs his fingertips through her hair, his hands glide along her skin,
the sheer black material of his shirt tearing rather easily as she pries
at it, exposing his muscular upper body to her+~
…in a household somewhere in Rhy’Din, a man sits awake in a
darkened room, staring at a television screen filled with the white noise
of static… leaning out of his easy chair, he stretches towards the old
set, stroking the rabbit ears, and then twisting a knob, gently, coaxing
the picture into clarity…
::a shiver courses through her, at the shock of sensation so soon after waking,
and she ravages that shirt all the more greedily, catching bits of cloth
at the tips of her fangs, just barely nicking the skin with the ends of those
threatening teeth... her claws-for-nails soon join in the chase, smoothing
over his sculpted chest and along his ribcage, and she arches back as her
mouth follows, planting a trail of succulent kisses over his abdomen::
~+He closes his eyes slightly at the feel of her lips against his soft skin,
his hands slip along the length of her back, one runs through her hair, the
other glides along her arm, as if to touch and feel every last inch of her
luscious curves+~
::with palms flattened over the muscle of his stomach, she settles back on
her haunches, those razored teeth already tearing eagerly... her breathing
comes quickly, now, and labored, a chill breeze as she laps at his skin...
her own porcelain complexion flushed with the greed growing inside her::
…A spring time faire has come to town, and under the glow of the
moon, peasant vendors go about the torchlit task of hammering their booths
into place, and a caravan of belly dancers and snake charmers and mystics
has erected a tent of soft, filmy material… as busy characters move
inside, arranging the stages and unloading the drums, the occasional figure
within brushes against the side of the tent, creating the bulging outline
of a body in
silk…
~+His own breathing a bit faster in anticipation, his light brown eyes witness
to her carnal greed which he can sense quite well+~
…And a young girl - one of the gypsy daughters, in pigtails and a
vest trimmed with mirrors and embroidery - sits at the edge of the meadow,
watching the events unfold… rummaging through her many pockets, she
pulls out a lollipop, and frees it to the night air with a crackle of paper
and the shredding of fine plastic threads… she tosses the wrapper away
without so much as a care, and plunges her mouth down over the confection...
her childish exuberance is tempered into random gnashing and grazing at the
outside of the hard candy shell… and slowly, ever so slowly, her tongue
winds up the length of the hardened sugar ball, tracing its outline and teasing
herself with its sweetness as she circles over the top…
…The lollipop is cherry-flavored, and leaves a sticky red stain behind
on the center of her tongue… But she is oblivious, her dark eyes absently
half-focused on the unboxing of a table, and the leather goods being set
out upon it… her ears hearing only the shouts of direction as a pair
of men weave through the nighttime bazaar with a crate balanced between
them… that lollipop is clasped in her greedy little hand, helpless,
with no choice but to be subject to her pleasures... she goes on as though
it were a toy to play with, sliding her tongue back down the side, suckling
gently at the base, and then pulling away...
…Glancing up suddenly, her eyes flash wide with puerile avarice, and
staring steadily ahead, she closes her lips around the candy, suckling with
relentless delicacy… then suddenly ferocious, she lunges down over the
bulb, her eyes closing away from the scene on the other side of the meadow,
her lips tightening as they near the base, her tongue dancing and winding
inside the warm sanctuary of her mouth... and then, almost painfully slow,
she draws back, taking her time and tracing lines of the diminished sweet
with the end of her tongue…
~+He leans forward, his grace much like that of a cat, taking her into his
arms, and laying her back against the bed gently, her runs his fingertips
through her hair tenderly, laying soft kisses on her mouth and against her
throat+~
::pleasant as it is, though, she slithers back and away, curling her legs
beneath her as she rises to her knees on the center of the bed... with a
finger crooked, to summon him forward, a sinister smile on her lips, she
nods towards the cushions, a gesture for him to relax there, if he hopes
to touch - or be touched - again::
~+At her beckoning, he does follow, laying back against the soft cushions
and relaxing into them, as his eyes watch her every move+~
::tranquility whispers its way onto her smile once again, and she bends forward,
crawling towards him on hands and knees, and settling herself over him once
again... she leans forward, her lips just a breath away from kissing his::
...(sw) We will hurry ahead when I say so... and not before...
…Just off the coast, in the depths of ocean water made tepid by a
bewildered current, a predatory sea flower opens and closes, electric with
moisture and warmth, its spongy petals drifting with the tide to disguise
the deliberate fissure as it waits for its prey to drift by and into the
mouth of gluttony…
~+Grins slyly at her words, feeling her hips against his, his eyes close
for a moment, then open to look into hers as she nears his lips, taunting
him not only physically, but verbally as well, a slight smile resurfaces
on his warm features, nodding slightly in a forced obedience to her apparent
domination of his very own body, wondering if he had underestimated his ...
opponent+~
::at the nod, she replies in kind, her smile placid once more... her tongue
darts out to slide over those lips, so close, and with a tribal backbeat
somewhere in the back of her mind, driving her onward, her back begins to
roll::
~+Murmurs softly+~ You're so cruel... ~+The pleasurable feelings nearly
unbearable as she teases him, a slight smile forming on his lips, he groans,
her scent intoxicating+~
::she can hardly argue with his assessment, and so, tracing the outline of
that smile with her tongue, she flicks across his lower lip, then crushes
against him in a ravaging kiss::
…On the far side of town, where industry reigns supreme, the busy
bee workers have long since gone home to their wives and families (one such
worker still sits adjusting his television, turning the knobs back and forth),
but the machinery grinds on… With a hiss of steam, a piston coated in
oil plunges down into the chasm of a steel cylinder… The sound dissipates,
then becomes the groan of meshing metal, as a series of gears turns frantically
to bring the piston back up… a rocker arm hammers furiously, driving
the machine at a reckless pace, but the slick of amber coats nicely as the
piston penetrates the cylinder again and again, so that only the steady chug-chug
of engines churning can be heard…
:: her tongue wraps around his like a clinging serpent, and her fangs just
graze, a tantalizing bit of pain to add to the fire of her kiss::
~+His insides being quite more tender than his outer form, the light graze
is just enough to leak a tiny droplet of his green blood, sweet to the taste,
that which none other could ever compare to, like a drug, its sends pure
bliss through Rose, as if it pouring gasoline on that fiery kiss, and like
a drug its nearly intoxicating, despite the fact that it *is* only a drop,
he moans softly against her kiss+~
::as she catches a drop of that sweet copper confection on her tongue, a
sudden rage ripples through her, drawing her back into an arch… she
rights herself, and now, the eyes that gaze down on him are rimmed with crimson,
riddled with the madness that only passion can inspire... as she tosses her
head back, wild screaming red curls drape over her shoulders, and she bares
her teeth, hissing her hunger::
…Something snaps in the mechanism… a coil too weak, or a worn
cogwheel, driven beyond the limits of its capacity… a security guard
rounds the corner just then, with a flashlight dappling spots of white over
the massive piece of machinery, just in time to see the shower of sparks
flying off as metal grates against metal, and the whole system of parts comes
grinding to a protested halt…
~+Quite oblivious to the danger of her bared fangs, utter bliss fills his
very being, he slowly comes to, his eyes slowly opening to look up at her,
panting softly, and begins to taste his own blood+~
((Note: The above is the collaborative effort of myself and the mun of RvnIndigo.))
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There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the thorns.
- Pilpay - The Two Travellers. Chap. ii. Fable vi. (from Sanskrit, translated into English in 1570)
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