Post by Azrae Sevar on Jan 23, 2014 19:30:45 GMT -6
(This is meant to be a short thread.)
Azrae's shell was in a very critical state, it took more frequent feedings and energy absorption than previously to sustain her body. Whatever Hades had done to her in the Underworld was triggered with her return to the human plane. It was the price she had to pay for freedom, to die and uncontrollably painful and wretched death. Sneaking out of the place she and Romal had rented was harder than she thought, and going unnoticed by the Coven members was even harder because they were everywhere. Yet here she was, stumbling into the arena in the middle of the day where many gathered to watch a sport of brutality and blood. They wasted all of their precious energy fighting one another while her shell was starved of the sustenance and asking Romal for a handout was no longer an option, she'd drain him dry long before he could sedate her ravenous hunger. The light glared down and she held an arm out against the sun's ray, baring her teeth like an animal coming out of the darkness for the first time. Eyes squinting against the radiance of the sun, and though it was upon her in full blast, she could not feel the heat. The first step taken into the arena had had crumpling to the ground, a mess of flailing arms and legs with a body much heavier than her own landing on top, knocking the wind out of her. As the man fumbled his way off her and rolled to the side, Azrae rolled onto all fours, gasping for breath. Her hair spilled along the ground, incredibly long and healthy for someone at Death's doorstep. The man moved as if to help her, and partially parted lips breathed out a hiss when he touched her face and forced the focal point to become his eyes, the girl's irises were lined with neon blue around the pupil and bloomed into deeper shades of blue. That same skeletal face laid eyes of darkness upon his, the hunger stemming from a point inside of her that he would not be able to pinpoint through gaze alone. No matter how penetrating the eyes looking within were, majestic in their color and power to deduct, the secret lay in the center and knew. A sharp prickling at her wrist, blood which stained his lips and fountained from her wrist caught the eye and thumb moved over to wipe away the sweet sign, the telling sign that he had injured delicate damsels not yet in distress.
Words that pilfered the senses did not make it through, and thumb was brought to lips where tongue lapped that which he had so rightfully spilled, consuming back into itself and settling in the body of whom it belonged to. There were only brief flickers of eyes, losing contact with gaze for mere nanoseconds before they touched again. The snakes stirred, against flesh and roiling beneath, the steadying of the heart and bloodied wound brought to shoulder, dripping sweet poison onto already stained and dirtied clothing. Leaning forward, the bird of prey, lips to lips in almost kiss, though tongue snaked out and licked at the corner of mouth; tasting blood of her blood. Hunger bloomed and a small whimper, heels bringing body to rock back and gain footing while the roar of the crowd continued to grow. A grin formed of nails and black teeth, only a passing glimpse of the creature lurking beneath a living dead girl. "Tell me, does dead girl blood taste just as potent as that of the living?"
Silence befell the spectators, the build-up drawing to a crushing point of nothing and the arena held its breath. The assailant had stopped advancing towards the man that had crumpled her last vestiges of dignity. Hair rose with the static charge, the roiling of thunder overheard. The sound of a giant door groaning as it swung shut caused the earth to quake and light, the same cerulean blue as her glowing eyes rose in a circle around the entire area, sealed off from the outside world, breaching the heavens where above, it connected to an inverted pentagram always flowing with the lightning's current. A scream shattered the quaking earth's complaint and spectators ran for doors, causing mayhem and chaos as they stumbled and trampled over one another to get to the other side. Fingers curled around the hand that touched her, and using her weight, twirled on a foot to send the male flying into the wall opposite of her. Black plumes of smoke ripped through the clothing of Azrae's back and her skin cracked and bled into the sand below, her hair rising high above her with the loss of gravity kept only to herself.
Jealousy and furious glare cast over shoulder at the man that had taken her companion. Contract or not, he was undeserving of what Four had to offer. In the eyes of the Nightmare Queen, all mortal men, women and children were underserving of their attentions. Wild things were meant to be free, not tied to a post to be beaten by stones. Chilling thoughts caused Wraith to waiver, flickering in and out like a specter in a movie, before stagnant attitude gave way to fresh air and feet set into motion.
Faint; illicit motions held within angelic compounds danced in ill fated illusions stirring. Fingers reached, beckoning parent-hand comfort! Comfort as lithe form bowed; head slacking behind cascade stark of color to coil feverishly about features of contorted porcelain. Pout parting as fingers dig, dig, dig deeper within fabricto ascertain a fleeting ground: reaching further towards dawn and its breaking to find - stagnation. A myriad of electricity to lick the spine and spasm sinews into an wicked dance underneath the flesh. Dance little doll. Constants, variables, each within their own ethos and still a bastion unto her. The world befell into a fading lull of vision- crystalline hues dulling into lack luster as slender throat choked on thick, rancid mass. Body bowed in dancer's flair! Oh! Sweet sin does run hands over angel's wings to usher the innocent one - Dance! Dance and know Knowledge! Fly high sweet bird for I shall be the rot beneath you wings, Icarus Virgo. Brow furrowed as free hand lifted, digging nails to break upon the tabletop; fingertips run raw as fleeting attempts to take hold and brace proved unfruitful. Lips parted again as mass escaped its inner prison- retched and crimson laced as it seeped from the corner of her mouth. Fear! Fear caused the bird within her chest to beat its wings in feverish fashion against is bone cage. swift did she move albeit staggered in its marriage of inertia. Crumpled in dumb mass of fabric and tainted white did she fall; crawling now her vessel as flesh began to lick with wicked lines of noire. Spreading like sin filled snakes underneath her flesh and throughout her bloodstream to snuff out the crimson life that held therein. Another lurch of her torso produced an expelled portion of sickness, laden thick with blood and..another substance. Black, deepest black did she expel and as wide pale eyes looked on, it moved. Writhed upon the floor as if consumed with an ever present wish for life! Form trembled upon the floor; recoiling before psyche urged forward once more in a swift forward motion to up-heave once more. Body moved forward to allow brow to kiss the unforgiving floor. A faint wince of pain as eyes looked on in stuttered cinema: blooming. Breath now labored as eyes watched on - from those black laced veins sprouted thorns and oh! How the pain loved her as it split open her flesh and behold! Brilliant red rose buds amongst black foliage before blooming in brilliant opening upon her hands and various points. A scream, half muted and yet strained with growing black mass within her body. Hand lifted to swiftly pluck and pull away the rose that adorned the back of her palm and yet as she tossed the bloom away, thorns pricking and stabbing the still raw fingertips to allow blood to flow in crimson rivers about appendages, another grew in its place. Nievus Gelu et Flora Rutilus! Peccamen...Virgo.
Crouched and quaking fingers reach, dark angel praying to lord and savior, spotting sweet temptation does call forth in the form of a black lump, soot covered and burdened by lies and intricacies. Fingers splayed and yearning reach with shaky disposition and spine curve as gravity pushes back to keep freedom and respite from reach. Ripe and sweet the fruit from the forbidden tree does tempt, yet fingers cannot fully reach such violent delights regardless of how much sweet poison is craved on a forked tongue. Listless arms fall to sides and dig into comforting sands beneath, hunger is the name of the monster calling sweet concoction comes hither from the depths of the abyss. Madness is the color driven into irises that by terms of modern times would be considered crimson if referred to. Thoughts no longer linger on that which she cannot have, overtaken by dreams of things that used to be. Still attitude breaks into motion and feet once search, and pause. Lightning is the name of that which traveled from her hands now laying flat on the ground and begin to snake their way onto the stands, a tidal wave of electricity coursing throughout the entire arena, hissing angrily as the screams are picked up, one by one. "The only way to make a philospher's stone is to sacrifice a thousand lives for the sake of one."
Fingers clasp around that blackened lump, it is red and it is lifeless, but with the first activation of the outer alchemic circle and the souls beginning to be torn or coaxed out of their human hosts it shines electric blue. Six-hundred-ninety-nine more souls to absorb.
Azrae's shell was in a very critical state, it took more frequent feedings and energy absorption than previously to sustain her body. Whatever Hades had done to her in the Underworld was triggered with her return to the human plane. It was the price she had to pay for freedom, to die and uncontrollably painful and wretched death. Sneaking out of the place she and Romal had rented was harder than she thought, and going unnoticed by the Coven members was even harder because they were everywhere. Yet here she was, stumbling into the arena in the middle of the day where many gathered to watch a sport of brutality and blood. They wasted all of their precious energy fighting one another while her shell was starved of the sustenance and asking Romal for a handout was no longer an option, she'd drain him dry long before he could sedate her ravenous hunger. The light glared down and she held an arm out against the sun's ray, baring her teeth like an animal coming out of the darkness for the first time. Eyes squinting against the radiance of the sun, and though it was upon her in full blast, she could not feel the heat. The first step taken into the arena had had crumpling to the ground, a mess of flailing arms and legs with a body much heavier than her own landing on top, knocking the wind out of her. As the man fumbled his way off her and rolled to the side, Azrae rolled onto all fours, gasping for breath. Her hair spilled along the ground, incredibly long and healthy for someone at Death's doorstep. The man moved as if to help her, and partially parted lips breathed out a hiss when he touched her face and forced the focal point to become his eyes, the girl's irises were lined with neon blue around the pupil and bloomed into deeper shades of blue. That same skeletal face laid eyes of darkness upon his, the hunger stemming from a point inside of her that he would not be able to pinpoint through gaze alone. No matter how penetrating the eyes looking within were, majestic in their color and power to deduct, the secret lay in the center and knew. A sharp prickling at her wrist, blood which stained his lips and fountained from her wrist caught the eye and thumb moved over to wipe away the sweet sign, the telling sign that he had injured delicate damsels not yet in distress.
Words that pilfered the senses did not make it through, and thumb was brought to lips where tongue lapped that which he had so rightfully spilled, consuming back into itself and settling in the body of whom it belonged to. There were only brief flickers of eyes, losing contact with gaze for mere nanoseconds before they touched again. The snakes stirred, against flesh and roiling beneath, the steadying of the heart and bloodied wound brought to shoulder, dripping sweet poison onto already stained and dirtied clothing. Leaning forward, the bird of prey, lips to lips in almost kiss, though tongue snaked out and licked at the corner of mouth; tasting blood of her blood. Hunger bloomed and a small whimper, heels bringing body to rock back and gain footing while the roar of the crowd continued to grow. A grin formed of nails and black teeth, only a passing glimpse of the creature lurking beneath a living dead girl. "Tell me, does dead girl blood taste just as potent as that of the living?"
Silence befell the spectators, the build-up drawing to a crushing point of nothing and the arena held its breath. The assailant had stopped advancing towards the man that had crumpled her last vestiges of dignity. Hair rose with the static charge, the roiling of thunder overheard. The sound of a giant door groaning as it swung shut caused the earth to quake and light, the same cerulean blue as her glowing eyes rose in a circle around the entire area, sealed off from the outside world, breaching the heavens where above, it connected to an inverted pentagram always flowing with the lightning's current. A scream shattered the quaking earth's complaint and spectators ran for doors, causing mayhem and chaos as they stumbled and trampled over one another to get to the other side. Fingers curled around the hand that touched her, and using her weight, twirled on a foot to send the male flying into the wall opposite of her. Black plumes of smoke ripped through the clothing of Azrae's back and her skin cracked and bled into the sand below, her hair rising high above her with the loss of gravity kept only to herself.
Jealousy and furious glare cast over shoulder at the man that had taken her companion. Contract or not, he was undeserving of what Four had to offer. In the eyes of the Nightmare Queen, all mortal men, women and children were underserving of their attentions. Wild things were meant to be free, not tied to a post to be beaten by stones. Chilling thoughts caused Wraith to waiver, flickering in and out like a specter in a movie, before stagnant attitude gave way to fresh air and feet set into motion.
Faint; illicit motions held within angelic compounds danced in ill fated illusions stirring. Fingers reached, beckoning parent-hand comfort! Comfort as lithe form bowed; head slacking behind cascade stark of color to coil feverishly about features of contorted porcelain. Pout parting as fingers dig, dig, dig deeper within fabricto ascertain a fleeting ground: reaching further towards dawn and its breaking to find - stagnation. A myriad of electricity to lick the spine and spasm sinews into an wicked dance underneath the flesh. Dance little doll. Constants, variables, each within their own ethos and still a bastion unto her. The world befell into a fading lull of vision- crystalline hues dulling into lack luster as slender throat choked on thick, rancid mass. Body bowed in dancer's flair! Oh! Sweet sin does run hands over angel's wings to usher the innocent one - Dance! Dance and know Knowledge! Fly high sweet bird for I shall be the rot beneath you wings, Icarus Virgo. Brow furrowed as free hand lifted, digging nails to break upon the tabletop; fingertips run raw as fleeting attempts to take hold and brace proved unfruitful. Lips parted again as mass escaped its inner prison- retched and crimson laced as it seeped from the corner of her mouth. Fear! Fear caused the bird within her chest to beat its wings in feverish fashion against is bone cage. swift did she move albeit staggered in its marriage of inertia. Crumpled in dumb mass of fabric and tainted white did she fall; crawling now her vessel as flesh began to lick with wicked lines of noire. Spreading like sin filled snakes underneath her flesh and throughout her bloodstream to snuff out the crimson life that held therein. Another lurch of her torso produced an expelled portion of sickness, laden thick with blood and..another substance. Black, deepest black did she expel and as wide pale eyes looked on, it moved. Writhed upon the floor as if consumed with an ever present wish for life! Form trembled upon the floor; recoiling before psyche urged forward once more in a swift forward motion to up-heave once more. Body moved forward to allow brow to kiss the unforgiving floor. A faint wince of pain as eyes looked on in stuttered cinema: blooming. Breath now labored as eyes watched on - from those black laced veins sprouted thorns and oh! How the pain loved her as it split open her flesh and behold! Brilliant red rose buds amongst black foliage before blooming in brilliant opening upon her hands and various points. A scream, half muted and yet strained with growing black mass within her body. Hand lifted to swiftly pluck and pull away the rose that adorned the back of her palm and yet as she tossed the bloom away, thorns pricking and stabbing the still raw fingertips to allow blood to flow in crimson rivers about appendages, another grew in its place. Nievus Gelu et Flora Rutilus! Peccamen...Virgo.
Crouched and quaking fingers reach, dark angel praying to lord and savior, spotting sweet temptation does call forth in the form of a black lump, soot covered and burdened by lies and intricacies. Fingers splayed and yearning reach with shaky disposition and spine curve as gravity pushes back to keep freedom and respite from reach. Ripe and sweet the fruit from the forbidden tree does tempt, yet fingers cannot fully reach such violent delights regardless of how much sweet poison is craved on a forked tongue. Listless arms fall to sides and dig into comforting sands beneath, hunger is the name of the monster calling sweet concoction comes hither from the depths of the abyss. Madness is the color driven into irises that by terms of modern times would be considered crimson if referred to. Thoughts no longer linger on that which she cannot have, overtaken by dreams of things that used to be. Still attitude breaks into motion and feet once search, and pause. Lightning is the name of that which traveled from her hands now laying flat on the ground and begin to snake their way onto the stands, a tidal wave of electricity coursing throughout the entire arena, hissing angrily as the screams are picked up, one by one. "The only way to make a philospher's stone is to sacrifice a thousand lives for the sake of one."
Fingers clasp around that blackened lump, it is red and it is lifeless, but with the first activation of the outer alchemic circle and the souls beginning to be torn or coaxed out of their human hosts it shines electric blue. Six-hundred-ninety-nine more souls to absorb.
I am so happy to see that