m, nineteen eighty one

Samael Lykoi · 02-19-2011, 02:26 AM

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WARNING This thread contains violence starting with the 1st post. Reader discretion is advised. It's set in the Dampwoods at dusk with Samael in Optime form.

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Blood to him smelled as sweet as candy and as alluring as a woman. There was a trail across the horizon, leading him onward. Blood meant injury, thus blood meant weakness. He followed along, carrying only a dagger. Bone showed through his flesh, his tongue caressing his lips in anticipation of murder. Long, bedraggled hair hung across his features and down his back. The canine had collapsed in the snow, bearing an injury seemingly inflicted by some large ungulate. It’d failed to make a kill, and it would die instead.

The creature shifted, snarling at the coyote. It rose, though fatigue hindered its movements, weighing it down. His fingers found the canine’s mane, stilling the movements of the head before pulling it back and slitting its throat. The blood ran warm over his hands and he drank it in ravenously. The skin split with ease beneath his claws, raking them across the creature, intending to slowly disembowel the corpse for no reason other than his own amusement.

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Demi D'Angelo · 02-21-2011, 12:18 AM

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*world explodes*

The little Demi Goddess marched along the landscape with no real purpose other than looking to stir up potential test subjects. The wolf from DdM she supposed had been a success, even if her methods had failed to accomplish what she had sought. But the ever vigil scientist learned from the mistakes she had made. Next time she would refine them and observe the outcome and continue to refine her method until the desired results where attained. Some in her pack when they had learned of her actions where detested, but she cared little for their own thoughts. The pack had been created to not hold the conventional boundaries that most packs held themselves too, and if they weren’t a pack member then no loyalty or threat of punishment loomed over her and doing as she wished was completely acceptable.

Today though found her frolicking through the forest, looking nothing like the mad woman who had left a young man scarred for the rest of his life, or someone who could act out such things. No she looked rather innocent, rather unassuming and that helped to always ensure no one really knew her. And then as if she was about to turn back to return home a peculiar scent caught her nose. One that she knew all too well, death, a fresh kill and the goddess couldn’t resist being nosey at all. Turning around and going home just wouldn’t do at all.

Blue eyes looked over the man as she walked close enough to interact, before she looked at the corpse below him. Instantly her mind thought nothing of the poor soul that had been killed, rather it instantly thought of different things she wanted to know. This situation presented a wonderful way to explore someone’s body without having to actually kill them since the man had been so generous to have already taken care of that problem.

“Hello” She said seductively, almost on the verge of jumping around excitedly to have another chance to mentally file away more information. “What have you got there?” she asked with a smile.

Samael Lykoi · 02-28-2011, 02:29 AM

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Once, he’d been composed. But composure had shattered, leaving behind only the barren, corrupted interior of his soul. For a time he’d played the part of Deceit, becoming Fear only once he’d gathered whatever victim into his grasp. Eternally, though, he was Lust. He withdrew a scalpel—just like the one he’d given to Halo—and he set it carefully against the deceased creature’s collarbone. Yet before an incision could be made someone approached, distracting him. He lifted the blade, turning to peer disdainfully at the stranger.

“A wolf,” he purred back, masking aggression beneath a sugar-coated exterior. Even so, the malicious look never left his eyes. “What does it look like?” This was one of her own—what would she think of this scene? The scalpel again met the corpse’s chest, slowly piercing through fur and skin, dragging down along the pale belly while leaving behind a lurid, weeping red mark. Almost like a zipper on cloth, he pulled the now separated sides away to reveal the crimson muscle below.

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Demi D'Angelo · 03-06-2011, 08:15 PM

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Her mind never processed, wolf from coyote or vice versa, her faults where on the thrill of inflicting pain and once the subject died her other addiction was cutting them up. So it was no surprise that her eyes instantly dilated and hungered at the cut he made as he seemed to ask through his words what she made of this scene. She cocked her head to the side in a grin instantly masking her addiction with a cause, a righteous cause that masked her true intent.

“A chance to study the inner workings of a wolf” she replied softly as she stepped next to the man, not even paying one thought as to her own safety only the marvelous crimson that seemed to leak out. No pump forced it out in erratic torrents; no it only seeped as evidence to the subjects death. Her own satchel was flung open to procure her own instruments. The scalpel, a small hand saw, tiny enough for her own hands, but sharp enough to get the job done, she didn’t ask though, she just sat politely down to join this stranger for a treat, killing two birds with one stone, two deviants getting their own fix on one body, what a lovely picture.

“DO you mind?” she asked quietly as if professional courtesy was needed in their work.

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Samael Lykoi · 03-21-2011, 09:13 PM

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Wolves were worthless. He’d been taught that since infancy, and it wouldn’t change now, though his hatred was far from subjective. He hated everyone and everything. Only Lykoi were spared from his scorn, but even this wasn’t always true. His love, his affection, was tainted, and he left behind only destruction in his wake. He was truly the Destroyer.

His head lifted as she seated herself, making herself comfortable before the corpse just as he was. He sneered, half irked and half intrigued by her presence. But he would wait and see what she was up to before making a decision. The blunt edge of the blade met the surface of his lips, tasting the blood as he watched her with ravenous, crimson eyes.

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Demi D'Angelo · 03-27-2011, 10:08 PM

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hay thar

The D’Angelo woman licked her lips as the silence between them passed and her hand went to work along the thigh of the carcass. The long scalpel slid into the flesh in neat marks past the fur and into the muscle. Her hands worked with a marvelous steady nature, almost artistic in its work as flesh was sliced away at the thigh joint to reveal the ball joint of the hip. The small of satisfaction was clearing written across her face, a sick twisted sort of smile a serial killer would have. Once done her eyes inspected the flesh at the joint, her hands already stained red, her eyes looking over the connecting joint with fascination.

Eyes only partly looked toward the man who was with her, to enthralled with her own work to pay any mind to him. Demi was many things but afraid of anyone wasn’t on the list. A quiet settled over her for a few moments before the saw was grabbed. She could have gnawed on the bone and broken it after many attempts but a saw was so much cleaner and quickly she started sawing the bone in half to remove the entire leg.

Samael Lykoi · 03-30-2011, 04:33 AM

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“I wonder where the soul would go,” he asked lightly, more to himself than anything else—not truly expecting an answer from the strange woman as she worked, marveling at the animal’s interior. Once, long ago he’d tried to find it, but he’d failed. He could only conclude that it was within the worthlessness of the wolf itself that such a flaw existed.

“I’ve yet to find it,” he continued. She’d stolen away his prey. Crimson gaze had focused on her, unmoving for quite some time. She was mad—perhaps just as mad as he was. He never questioned madness. Chaos was his legacy on this world. The wolf lay between them, but his attention had deviated.

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Demi D'Angelo · 04-02-2011, 04:35 PM

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The odd words struck her in silent wonder; he spoke of souls and their hiding place. Something she had never considered to contemplate. Bodies where only a mechanical vessel for the intelligent mind to carry out its will. What happened after death never crossed her mind nor did she have any fascination for it.

“There is no soul, only flesh and bone” she said quietly as she rose up her stare cold and emotionless. As if to drive home her own point, she thought nothing of anyone she didn’t know, much less an already lifeless corpse. If there was a soul, it must have left at the point of death.

“If there is such a thing, I don’t imagine it staying around after death” she added as if they were in some deep philosophical discussion. Which was intriguing for two fucked up canines such as they were.

Samael Lykoi · 04-03-2011, 04:38 AM

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He narrowed his eyes. Of course he believed in the soul. His soul belonged to a demon. He was no mortal. He wouldn’t simply blink out and vanish when he died. He was meant for greater things. “Of course there’s a soul,” he said, tone cold.

“Perhaps you might be nothing more than dust and bone, but I’m something far greater than that,” he continued, unbridled arrogance rising in his voice. He was proud of who and what he was—his lineage both here on earth, and beyond. The angel had chosen him to appear before. The angel lived in his blood and in his bones, dictating his actions and using him as he saw fit.

He wasn’t mad—he was possessed.

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Demi D'Angelo · 04-04-2011, 02:43 AM

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She couldn’t stifle a laugh, the absurdity of it all. Only a male would have the bravado to claim that their insanity was the product of their twisted soul. Oh the drama, the outright tragedy of it all. No her thoughts, will, cravings where her own doing and she would take responsibility for the blackness on herself out right than to reason it away with delusions of grandeur.

“Having no soul means I do not have to answer to some “god” or pay for my so called sins, or be judged for things others feel are sinful. No if I have a soul then it is mine and mine alone. “She spat out as she gathered her things, done being in the presence of someone she was quickly deeming to stupid for intellectual conversation.

“Have fun being something far greater than whatever you’re referring to Sir. In the end we all return to dust” she stood done for now.

Samael Lykoi · 04-05-2011, 05:50 AM

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To deny the existence of the soul and of the afterlife denied Samael of his entire being and everything that he was based upon. It denied his beliefs, his life, and his very presence. It called him a foolish madman to suggest otherwise.

He knew otherwise. He’d seen everything that he’d needed to see to cement his ideals. He sneered, disgusted. She just didn’t understand. “Sin is subjective,” was all that he said.

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