Post by HST Seth on Aug 5, 2014 5:32:02 GMT
There's a time and a place
for fucking around.
Whoa, there, my Dear--
you may have to slow down
Think on the wonders
we two can create...
Can you please cut the chatter?
I can't stand to be late..
The cold basement was a safe place for her. She brought the luggage down and set the dark leather, breathing, onto the floor. She could feel in it a panic that gave her pleasure in a way no one would ever emulate. Behind her, he came light-footed down the steps. The elder's footsteps followed close behind. Desiree set the heavy luggage down, propping it up on the wheels she had afforded it for ease of travel, and the young Tzimisce turned with a grin that stretched a bit too wide and held itself in place a bit too long.
He only chuckled in that way that said he knew what she was asking. As she reassembled one specific piece of luggage into a man, unconscious on the floor, the elder dispersed with his clothing.
A brief moment shot through her of the almost exotic scene at the bath house she had been privy to. He had a penchant for doing things with zealous carelessness. He had no social moors, no modesty. Desiree wondered why she seemed to find that strange--she killed people weekly, so why did the unfettered sexuality of the Ancient Greek sleeper cause her so much discomfort?
As she finished, he moved up behind her and grabbed her coat, pulling it down.
Tension
Each piece of clothing that came off her body was a means to an end, but it was also a reminder of that moment a few weeks back. That moment she lost control and could not keep it--where she was almost dead.
Although she smiled that smug, satisfactory grin, her lack of subtlety showed in the nervous tilt of her head, the way the smile didn't quite reach her black eyes. Her armor discarded along with the torn jeans on the floor, her body exposed to the cold it didn't react to, all added to the slow crawling panick of lack of control.
Vulnerability.
He stood behind her, knelt down so as not to tower over her slight form. The sharp cut of a scalpel spread her flesh open at her spine. She took a sharp intake of breath, a sign of pain even through the dulling anesthesia of undeath. His fingers pulled and pressed, tying muscle to muscle, winding nerves around each new coil of flesh he added. Her back, then her legs, then her arms. Hours passed in agonizing silence in the cold basement, but she did not lay herself down, did not convey any sense of her fear.
A needle fed blood into her system from nearby stores. She felt those familiar tentacles press over her. They elicited that moment back in a tantrum to the forefront of her mind as her elder pressed his fingers into her flesh and molded it at her hip. He released her body with one hand for just a moment, and she noticed one of those tentacles move near her waistline. He had touched it before--adjusted it--as if he was fixing it.
It came close to her, radiant and pink with the vitae that had engorged it. Her body flickered as her flesh rippled. The hole he had carefully crafted to lead into her own belly shifted, protected from any absorbing tissue, and guided it back up to his other, creating a loop back to his system.
He moved to her right arm, his fingers slowly dragging across her back. She felt that recently closed spinal slit pull open, just slightly.
This time, when that tentacle began to move toward it, she grasped it in the air. No subtlety was spent, holding the would-be invader at bay. She gave him a half-cocked smirk, the skin healing closed where he had pulled it just barely open. As if to say, I'll catch you every time. She turned those pitch black eyes right on his glowing ones, unflinching...
"Sleep."
A single word. His voice. She felt that overwhelming urge begin to boil up inside her, as if she might.. but then.
Thud.
The elder hit the floor. Desiree's eyes went a bit wide with shock. It wasn't surprise that she had bested him--the neonate was confident she could best anyone--but it was the results of such a bold action. She bit her lip with her oversized canines, a corner of her mouth turning upward in a brief desire to place her fangs in his throat and take him completely. She leaned down and grasped both his arms, prepared for him to wake, her throat parched and her mind alight with the overwhelming need to take his soul.
 | ...? Who said I was finished? Who said I was done?! How dare you end now, when we've only begun?! Ah, but everything ends, Dear.. Even me, even you.. Would it make it more fun if I ended you, too? |
His eyes opened and glowed a terrible red. The Tzimisce had no physical capability to match hers, but his beast would not be tamed easily. His body shifted in instants, overwhelming her size in such a way as to seem ridiculous, even as she matched his transformation. The 9-foot tall monster whose limbs were slender as twigs was by far the smaller specimen, as the Koldun's head hit the ceiling and he struggled for freedom from her grasp.
"θα πεθάνεις, Δολοφόνος του σογιού."
The black-eyed monstress' lips drew back around her teeth as her held opponent exploded into a fountain of scalding blood across her already-damaged arms. She could not release a hold if she wanted to see him out of this frenzy, but her skin burned at the touch, and he sought to wash over her. Desiree hissed in anger, but even as her beast whispered at the edges of her mind, drawn forth by the pain, the Unifier would not be seen to lose.
Pride and Confidence at war with Fear and Death.
Another moment for her mind to catch its own fire, and he slithered off of her in time for her frenzy to begin. She roared at his mutable form on her basement floor, but fully aware of her inability to destroy such a thing, turned her rage on the door leading upstairs. It splintered and gave way, the beast storming through the house with a malice and nowhere to aim its destructive desires. She rode it without difficulty, giving it reign to destroy what meant little to her.
When she came back down, she was still angry, but his smile said he wasn't. She expected a glare, so it caught her off guard. Her arm, still hanging open, her flesh, still scarred. He waited patiently for her to return to the form he was working on, for every inch of her to compact back down to that little girl... so he could finish.
Yes, everything ends.. and everything stops. Even you, even I... Even monsters .. and gods. |  |
