[html] before you tell yourself
For Sam! Edit: Forward Dated to Feb 13
it's just a different scene
She wasn't sure why she'd come out here, at this time of night. It was unsual for her to even leave the packlands. Ever since the incident between Lucifer and herself she'd mostly kept to Storm lands, where she knew that Pilot or Phoenix would be just a call away. Being away, and by herself, made her a little shaky. She looked up at the high black towers as she passed them, shivering a little. She had heard that cities were usually very bright at night, because of the electricity, but those old generators had worn out long ago. Now there was only darkness. Her mismatched eyes swept over each shadow as she passed it, investigating.
Dierdre had felt like she'd needed to get away from the packlands, for a bit. Away from the den. She'd been thinking a lot lately about her life, and about her family. If she did end up having pups with Pilot, as her father had mentioned...would she be a good enough mother for them? Her own mother hadn't been around a lot during her puppyhood...so she didnt have a good example to go by. She'd have to guess.
This led to the next thoughts. She did want children of her own, but how was she supposed to bring that up to Pilot? He'd been raised by squirrels--maybe he didn't know how wolves were supposed to act during sex. Not that she was any better...she hadn't exactly been coherent for her one and only experience.
The cinnamon-flecked wolf stopped at the doors to the church. The last time she had been here she'd played with Physe. Had it changed much? She pushed the doors open, stepping inside, her breath misting in the air.
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[html] It was a glorious thing the way the fire flowed through his veins and burned at his soul. The way his vision clouded and memory blurred as a feeling of apathetic bliss washed over him. One hand clutching at the bottle, the other holding up a glass to the moonlight to watch as the strips of pale silver set the crimson liquid aglow. It was almost like blood, the russet shade of the wine, and equally as enjoyable to consume. He moved through the house, amused at the way his body moved so awkwardly and the way his thoughts were sluggish and clouded. Stopping in a doorway, he froze and peered into the darkness, mane bristling at an image in the shadows. But on closer inspection he saw it only to be a mirror and he smirked faintly at his own foolishness. Reaching out to touch the cool surface, feeling the glass beneath his fingertips, he was startled at the image he saw reflected back. It was himself, yet he'd grown so tall and gaunt since he'd last laid eyes on his own face.
His hair was long as ragged, hanging into his face over eyes that shone red in the darkness. Yet even as he watched, his face rippled and changed, becoming another's whom he knew just as well, if not better then his own. The angel, with features bore beautiful that could be present on any earthly being stared back from his own face, before it again melted back into the hollowed creature he saw before. Claws grazing the mirror's surface, he stopped and stared again, this time over his shoulder into the darkness that stood like a wall behind him. Demons. Spectres and shades slithered and writhed in the shadows; their faces hideous and twisted, unlike what he normally saw. Then he laughed, turning away and swaying back out into the hallway, and the street beyond.
A church. Pushing open the doors, he closed his eyes and found himself seated on the step before the altar, sipping sedately at the wine he'd poured into his glass. Moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows along the walls, pooling in spectrum colors on the cold stone floor and rows of wooden pews. He couldn't feel the cold despite his breath rising in a plume before his face from the liquor that flowed through his veins. Leaning back, gaze turned on the door as it creaked open, washing a path of light across the ground as a figure appeared silhouetted in the entrance. "My oh my, what's this?" he said lazily, peering at the wolf who'd stepped into the church. "A little lost angel seeking sanctuary?" [/html]
[html] before you tell yourself
it's just a different scene
She'd inherited certain things from each of her parents. From Thanos she had gotten a mild temperment and a few flecks of red on her back, and from Deuce she had gotten her otherwise white coat and her mismatching eyes; one blue and one yellow. Deuce had told her that her old pack had believed the eyes were a sign of a curse, but so far life hadn't been that bad for Dierdre. Not enough to call her existance a "curse".
It was freezing inside the church, just as much as it was outside...just with less wind. She rubbed her arms a little. Sometimes she wondered if it would be a good idea to try wearing some clothes...but had decided against it. Clothes would be too much of a hinderance if she ever needed to shift really quickly back into her four legged form. She usually just stayed in werewolf, though.
Dierdre heard a voice and looked up. She'd thought she was alone. Maybe Pilot was here? He did show up some places that she went. But no, it didn't sound like his voice. "Then you must be the sinner seeking repent" She said in return, approaching. Dierdre was both intrigued and frightened at the same time. Whoever it was, she was alone with them. The church was dark, but she could make out his form. The adrenaline was pumping, taking control, and she let herself go a little. The girl looked down at him. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned" She said mockingly.
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[html] mall-caps;color:#660000;">He pulled out the dagger and marveled in the pain he could create.
He leaned back lazily against the base of the altar, watching the creature who'd just stepped across the threshold of the church. Half-smile curved faintly across his lips, leaving the edge of one white fang protruding past blackened lips. "Perhaps," he replied, faintest motion of his head causing eyes to reflect what little light there was in the dark building. "If this sinner thought himself in need of salvation." He laughed faintly; a dull, hollow sound in the empty quiet of the church. No, to repent was for those in fear of death and punishment; for eternal retribution for one's sins. But a devil needed not repent when he was spawned of darkness and hellfire, sent only to wreak havoc on the living.
He could smell the adreneline flowing through her veins, keeping her standing and on edge. Had his prescence caused this emotion? He reveled in the stench of fear, breathing in the cold air between his teeth to taste the raw pungent odor that possessed the room between them. "A shame He's not listening," said the creature, leaning forward toward the other in the shadows. "But I am. What sin could you possibly have committed that needs to be forgiven, little angel?" Samael inquired, raising his glass to sip lightly at the crimson liquid within.[/html]
[html] before you tell yourself
it's just a different scene
She could remember different scenes from her night with Lucifer; some drinking, some drugs. But the thing that she could remember most clearly, out of everything, was that she had wanted it. Asked for it. When it had come, though, she’d wanted out. Had tried to back out of it. After that, she didn’t remember…just that she’d ended up bleeding all over the place, and that he hadn’t been there when she woke up.
So really, it hadn’t been a rape. Because she’d wanted it…right? Dierdre sat down on the floor in front of him, shrugging when he spoke. She didn’t know him…and she didn’t have to explain herself to him if she didn’t want to. But, for some reason, she felt like she should. Why not? She was never going to see him again anyway. ”I have a mate. But I don’t think he wants me. Maybe because I’m damaged. It makes me…mad. And upset. I think if I get some practice, though—I can show him just how good it can be with me. And…he wasn’t raised by wolves. I think he’s afraid of it. Of me, maybe. Of us. All the more reason to show him.” She sighed, locking her hands around her knees. "I don't know where to start, though."
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[html] i am so out of it. :|
mall-caps;color:#660000;">He pulled out the dagger and marveled in the pain he could create.
He smiled a soft, small smile that might of been welcoming on any other face. But rather than the curious stranger willing to give advice toward a needy soul, Samael found himself highly amused at the whole situation. What a foolish creature, to lay herself out so open at the feet of someone she'd never met. But that was the way of an angel, so untainted and innocent and naive, willing to believe and to hope. Yet her words contrasted this image, for she called herself damaged. Rape. Obviously, she'd been raped. How sad. He sipped lightly at the wine in his glass, reaching out for the bottle and refilling it to the brim. "Poor girl," he crooned, holding out the goblet toward the she-wolf and offering her the comfort of the wine.
"But that's the past. You can learn," coyote continued, the tip of one white fang slipping past the edge of his lips. One hand reached out for her cheek, gently stroking the pale fur there as smirk slipped across his muzzle. "I know where you can begin," he mused, one claw moving to trace the edge of her lip.[/html]
[html]  It's all good :]
She had never liked coyotes, really, but tonight he wasn't a coyote. He was a guardian. Someone who would show her the way--tell her what to do. Help her out. She would be grateful to him. Dierdre took the goblet from him, putting it to her lips. A bit of the wine escaped from the wide mouth of the goblet, dripping down her alabastor fur to pool on the floor.
She took another drink before putting it down next to her, looking back up on him. This felt dangerous...but it was exhilarating. "Teach me." She demanded.
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[html] xxxxxShe drank from the glass, a little bit of wine dripping from the edge of the mouth down her body to the floor below. He watched her, ghost of a smile shadowing his lips until she'd taken another drink and finally placed the goblet down. Lifting the bottle, he refilled her cup, than sipped from it himself, the glass hitting stone with a dull clink when he placed it back down. He could sense her mounting excitement, words as much a consent as he could ask for as she demanded he "teach her". Samael leaned in close, breath brushing against her cheek as one hand lifted toward a lock of her pale hair, allowing it to fall across his fingers.
xxxxx"Then pay attention, Little Angel," he said softly, tongue slipping past his lips to gently stroke the edge of her ear. He was a guardian. An angel to guide the girl toward Hellfire and Damnation. She was but a tool, held in the hands of the practiced Liar and Whore. Smile was deadly, eyes glinting with a dark fire that belied the benevolent creature he was pretending to be. Like the Great Deceiver he'd cheat and lie to get what he wanted, which was nothing less than the entire world. He crawled on top of her, guiding her toward the stone floor below them. Motions yet gentle and tentative, teeth found her neck and lightly grazed the flesh there. [/html]
[html] I love your set 
Her cup was refilled and she took another drink from it. She wanted to numb things over a bit before she continued. The wine made her feel excited...it wasn't enough to make her really drunk, but enough to heighten the experience. The already dreamlike state was increasing, and she felt like she was floating as she was slowly led toward the floor.
The touches created sensations that made her body respond whether she wanted it to or not, and she leaned up towards him, inviting.
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[html] xxxxxHe was drunk. Drunk not only with the wine that flowed through his veins, warming his blood like liquid fire and turning thoughts sluggish and amused, but also with the desire that was beginning to wind through his body at the touch of her flesh. A wolf. A worthless creature, yet she was flesh and blood and bone, and female at that. He could desire her, like one who desires a whore, willing to use this living body to meet their own needs, than abandon it without a second thought. Her body curved upward toward his, willing whether she realized it or not as instinct drove her flesh to burn with lust and wine. Biting continued, sharper, yet not enough to cause her skin to tear and bleed as he lightly pulled and sucked — hands sought the edges of her body, tracing the curves of her form with hands aiming to cause arousal. They moved lower, sliding between her legs to stroke with practiced motions. [/html]
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Now the wine was having more of an effect on her, as she growled and writhed beneath him. It had never been this good for her--no one had made her feel like this before. The time with Lucifer had been a mistake...but this time was different in so many ways. She wanted this, and knew exactly what she was doing. There was no stopping it now.
Samael definitely knew what he was doing, making her body repond to him in every way. She pushed herself up against his stroking hand, willing him to do more.
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