ooc: halcyon mountains, a small shack between inferni and anathema borders

SoSuWriMo: 784

Snow had fallen during the night.

The air was bitterly cold, and China felt unwell. Curled up on the hard wood of the shack, it was no wonder that she had been chilled to the bone - the crumbling mountainside cottage had long since been stripped of any homely offal that it may once have held warm, cradled within four walls that were now splintered by wind and weather. The cool zephyr found weaselly nooks and crannies between the bones of the dwelling, whistling its seductive breath through every peephole. She had awaken, shivering rather terribly, and experienced in full the strange sensation that had been gradually creeping up on her hippie's soul since the moment she had set foot on the tainted soil of Inferni. Hatred. What poisonous feeling was this, that which eroded her being from the inside out, made her hate the beauty of the earthmother? What acidic curse had been placed on her by the blood from which she had sprung, that even a child so bright and full of false love could feel the teeth of this mongrel emotion gnawing at her hollow bird-bones?

She had come to the mountain for solitude, and for goodness, thinking that the break from social pack life would provide her with a window to reconnect, to re-establish the bonds she had once shared with the earth around her. Instead, the gaping stained-glass windows offered her only a cruel view of the blanching whiteness that now surrounded her. In the winter, China felt more cut off from the teachings of Juniper Peace than in any other season. It was when the mother slumbered, deep within her ivory blankets, at the core of the world, at the heart of all things. But in doing so, she had left China Rose - Most dedicated, most lovely China Rose - to brave the craven top-world alone. This feeling of vertigo and disenchantment scared her. The Lykoi princess had always had to struggle a little harder than her siblings to stay true to the teachings of Peace and Love, but this hate - sprung from some well unfounded, unfurling dark petals to burst into bloom - was sinking deeper and deeper into her. She was scared, because she had no idea where it came from.

Moving to sit against one of the walls, the willow-slim girl wrapped somewhat lanky arms about her maybe too-long legs, trying to hold in the shivers. It had been stupid to stay out here, alone, and no doubt her frozen body would pay dearly for the mistake. Slightly glazed Lapis Lazuli, devious of its usual mischief and mirth, gazed blankly out one stained window into the grey abysmal sky beyond. When this strange mood had snuck up on her in the past, she had been able to beat it back down with stubborn optimism; A defiance for the heavy weights of reality. Trying to clear her slightly muddled mind, the girl thought of those she had met, those who she had enjoyed the company of - That beautiful ebony wolfess, Azalea... Oh, and Shiloh, of flowers and butterflies! Of course, her sisters, Sage and Clover, they who would forever hold a solid ground in her frisky heart. And the nameless boy, him too.

She had thought of him fleetingly the past week. For some reason, the memory of what they had shared conjured a peculiar numbness in her. No negative feelings, no - Just the sense of waiting, waiting for something to happen. The inevitable mystery that had shrouded him was still something to be merry about, but no; Just the numbness. Perhaps that was why she had come to this hovel, to see if that might stir more emotion.

Stiff fingers tried to rub some warmth back into silvery pelt, but failed. She was not alarmed yet, knowing far too little of any medical sensibility to consider that this sort of numbness she felt could be more than just the mind, more than just a passing phase. Mind drifted absently to the family that waited for her, back behind the gaping eyesockets of skewered skulls. Kaena would be cross with her for acting so unreasonably, but how would China explain that she had needed to be here, when she wasn't sure why herself? The formidable thought of her grandmother's worry and subsequent disapproval would have been enough to stir the girl into motion, so that she might have left the decrepit shanty, but her legs didn't seem willing to move. Exhaling a disappointed puff of steam into the brisk air, the Lykoi princess curled tighter into herself, fighting a bizarre sense of hopelessness that she had never before been able to recognize.

SoSuWriMo: 504

A shadow stretched across the floor, but it was not until his voice rang out into the frigid silence that China's glazed eyes finally slid from the window and across to the boy.

He stood tall, and the cold light was his slave, gilding blond fur with an otherworldly halo. For a moment, the silvery girl admired her polar companion in a daze, as though unsure if it was he she were seeing, or some sort of hallucination conjured by the illness she felt. How older he appeared, standing there, looking down on her! The last time they had met, he had been a child, and she the coy mentor. Last time they had met, she had held the power.

The girl observed this immediate shift in the relationship with little pleasure. For some reason, seeing him standing there in all his glory made her feel weak. Made her feel small. A slight smile curved about lips that may have been blue, were they human. She shivered again, but it was not a false shiver, like the last ones he had seen her commit. "Yes," Lyrical voice spun out into the harsh air, and she exhaled a small puff of steam before continuing, "V-very." But now that she was no longer alone, that peculiar dark twisting within her gut was residing, and with it, some sort of sickly sense. Crimson gaze was burning her, so she diverted, glancing out at a blank point somewhere over his shoulder.

Thick lashes held small crystal flakes, where water from her breath had condensed and frozen during the long night. Another shiver rippled through her, more violent this time, but she found that she had lost the will to fight it off. Strange, what the cold could do, when it seeped in so close to the marrow. Cerulean gaze returned to him, tranquil and calm in spite of the perilous predicament its owner face. Chin moved to rest on the top of her knees, as though to keep her heart surrounded, at the very center of her. A fortress of limbs barricaded him from it. Time had slid onwards, the deep waters eroding everything, and she did not offer him to sit by her now.

"I knew you would come to me, you know." A simple enough statement, Lapis Lazuli drifting vaguely over his handsome features. He looked to be an angel, but she believed in no such heaven-born thing. It was too difficult to explain how she had known that the thought of him alone would conjure him to her; a flash of memory concaved her conscience, and she recalled the pledges he had given, whether the fool had meant them or not. The spiderweb linked them, bound him to her; Or was it the other way around? She sighed, baffled by the thought. "You b-bring the cold with you, I think." A jest, and she smiled accordingly; but her smile was fake, white picket-fence teeth bared. It looked out of place on the doll's sweet face.

SoSuWriMo: 393

She would never treat him like she did the others. There was something different about the boy, something that pulled down her will to flash false bravado. Her warmth had been genuine that day, and she had shared it with him willingly. Today, it seemed, she required all of it to keep her whole.

There was a tedium in the air between them. The relationship was unfounded, but strong - Perhaps the unlikely pair would always be pulled toward one another, orbiting the chaos like meteors struck off course. A little wobbly, a little uncertain, and very, very dangerous. But maybe his fate held a different path to hers. After this day, would she be able to pull back on that cloak of merriment, melt seamlessly back into the lives of those she loved? A lovely mask was cracking, and China was relatively sure that it was not his.

She cradled the pieces of her body closer, cerulean eyes still gazing at him speculatively. What a queer state of events! There was a hungriness to his bloody eyes that she had lit that day, and she saw it flaming now; Did he think he could hide what was hers from her? But that flickering flame was currently locked away. There would be no wildfire to burn her skin right now, no tongues of heat to melt her bones and re-arrange them once more. That was how she felt; As though her skin had crawled around her during the night, and was now sitting all wrong, all wrong about her face. Her smile felt wonky, and not at all real.

His observation made her laugh. There, in that sound, was a flicker of the songbird she knew herself to be. Wings rustled, but hers were white, white and fresh as the virginal snow.

"Maybe you just see things brighter, these days," She offered, voice sounding slightly firmer now. His presence would slowly revive her, if the chill his heart carried did not kill her first. He had entered the carcass of the shack, all wooden bones and peeling paint skin, but still his shadow made her feel claustrophobic. In a familiar gesture, she patted the cold ground beside her. A genuine tug pulled at cold lips. "I'm not afraid of the cold, wolfboy. I'm not afraid of anything." Not yet, she wasn't. Not yet.

SoSuWriMo: 502

He had held her once, in his hands - And perhaps for that reason, the boy could deceive himself into thinking that he could catch the silver songbird. But China knew better. She was uncatchable; she was the wild winds of summer, the sweet scents of spring. She was a child of the earthmother, and she would belong to no mere man. The winter sapped her song, but still, within, she could feel the knowing - The connection she had with the slumbering world, a world that held its breath in anticipation of the great melt. Then, when the soil was warm beneath her feet; Then, when the wind would twirl tepid fingers in close-cropped locks; Then, again, would she be able to take wing.

But for now she was trapped within her youthful body. A vulnerable, fragile creature, who played on the hearts of her admirers, but knew not the havoc her winsome song could unleash. Here before her stood a boy - No monster most foul, but a boy yet. The innermost coils of Itachi were not a thing for a fickle-hearted creature like her to seek.

He was smiling with sharp white teeth, but she knew the game. There was no smile to be found in those bright crimson eyes. But he watched her still, and she felt obliged to act in turn, a hollow smile that mirrored his own. She liked the intensity of his gaze; It made her feel solid again, made the numbness seem less keen. But the boy's eyes were a double-edged blade, and if she was not careful, he might draw blood again.

They were playing at grownups, here, but no lies had yet to pass her cold lips. She found, with relief, that she did not need to lie to him. It was a tiresome act she had played at home, and one she was glad to shed in place of a lighter, more comfortable skin. The boy's wariness amused her - What had he to be cautious of, from her? She knew precious little of her powers over the blond, only that a connection had been made that would not easily be broken. A small pout played about the doll's face, her slanted eyes shuttered momentarily by thick lashes. Now that she was moving, no longer an ice statue, the frosted beads that had clung to them had disappeared. But she was cold yet, and would once more have been grateful for his warmth, even if not in carnal dance.

Her gaze was clearer now, sharper. Maybe it would see things neither of them wanted to see. "Not hiding," There, now, the first lie. It tasted bitter on her tongue, so she shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "Just... Just being. Away from that," She waved one blushing hand in the general direction of Inferni, not needing to elaborate. "The air is easier to breath out here," Another small genuine smile, a gift to him, it seemed. Curious Lapis Lazuli hovered over bleeding ruby. "You?"

SoSuWriMo: 386

She did not see the flash of anger at her dismissal of their originplace, was too busy considering instead the true purpose for his arrival here. Whimsical though she was, not even China was airy enough to believe that he had known of her presence there, or had likewise felt some magnetic urge to seek her out. That seemed too fantasy, too fairy-tale. She preferred to think of the coincidental meeting as just another step on the path that would lead her, inevitably, to her fate; whatever the earthmother had in store for her favored daughter. Strange though it may seem, the devious lovechild had already accepted that her future was beyond her mortal shaping. She was merely driftwood, and the great hands that churned the tide were far more omnipotent than her own blushing palms.

Her question was bluntly ignored, instead retaliated with another inquiry. This served only to fuel her curiosity; slanted eyes followed his movements as the boy took a chance, and moved to sit beside her. Their movements were well practiced now, and he heeded not what nervousness had stilled his progress the time before. She felt immediate relief at the contact of his golden fur but, bewilderingly, the urge for nothing more than this mere contact. What she had given to him once would not again be so easily offered; China would make and break addicts, unless they broke her first.

A light scowl daunted doll-like features, her gaze drifting at last from him to gaze back out the open window. "No..." The frown deepened, unfamiliar on her usual Cheshire portrait, "Well, I don't... I don't know." This time, a small sound of frustration, that may have been a growl were it not for the lovely pitch. Blushing hands rose to cradle her head, and instinctively, the girl leaned a little more into the warmth the boy offered. The feeling was inside her again - That clammy, uncomfortable hate-feeling. She detested it, and her own sudden insecurity. Fingers released her head, so that it might lie instead on slender arms that crossed the tops of her knees. Troubled cerulean warmed to her strange companion. "You are very secretive, you know. Who are you, anyway?" It would break the happy mystery, but she grew tired of thinking of him only as 'wolfboy'.

SoSuWriMo: 406

She had wandered willingly into this trap. There was no other angle from which to see it. The bait had been set the second that the summer dove had lain eyes on this golden child, and now, it was to be sprung. Whether the cages should break her fluted wings, or whether anon this cage would not constrain, was yet to be seen.

Unwary of this stilted future, the girl allowed her deep gaze to wander back to him; Gently, did Lapis Lazuli graze the panes of a young facade that she would know forever now. He had been her first, and though he would certainly not be her last, he was... Different. She would recall the strange feeling of abject fondness that curled within her, later, with a certain quantity of loathing, and worse, longing.

His reply curved another smile about her impish maw. Pixie face seemed to have regained some of its deviousness, although still it was pinched with the cold and the burden of that unease within. Still it simmered. She shrugged it off, feigning an air of nonchalance. "This isn't an interrogation. I wouldn't ask unless I wanted to know." So secretive, this boy! But perhaps her tone had been too wry, too clipped; To make up for it, she leaned a little more into the warmth of his side, cerulean gaze diverted to watch him. Those bloodrose eyes had yet to meet her own, almost as if the connection would severe whatever it was that held him still at bay.

She sensed a hesitance, and found herself wanting to take away the strangely vacant expression that had overtaken his handsome looks. The thin line of his mouth made her feel anxious, as though she had been the one to put it there. With a reluctance born of uncertainty, the slim girl allowed her smile to fade, her expression to sift to one more genuine, more thoughtful. One blushed hand left her knees, and with the surety of one who had not often experienced rejection, she moved to place over his own. "My name is China, China Rose Lykoi. And I want to know who you are." He had told her he loved her, but they were children yet, heedless of what the word truly meant. Regardless, the connection she felt to him was deep and strange, like snares waiting within murky water for the one with the unwary step.

SoSuWriMo: 439

Perhaps the innocent should have possessed more guile; would a darker heart have slowed her descent to confusion? To momentary horror? There could be no disguising the grim weight that flowed so freely across delicate features. There would be no disguising - China had not been brought up that way. Perhaps she felt a momentary pang of loss, of mourning for the small budding flower of a relationship she had seeded within the boy. It was heartwrenching to see such hard work go to waste. But surely she could not hang onto him now - Not with the knowing?

Lapis Lazuli shifted like unsettled ripples, not old enough to hide the disarray she felt. Here was one who had attempted murder most vile - Murder of her Omi, the mother of all she was. In the hippie-girl's scattered mind, there was a melting of ideals; Kaena and the Earthmother, the Earthmother and Kaena. From their fertility had sprung all things, thus came their sacred nature. He, this not-yet-man, this boy on the cusp of freshly-torn monstrousity, had made gross his effort to take that all away from her.

Hatred should have bloomed, and fear, both the ripe and festering fruits of innocence cursed with wisdom. But China felt only a hollowness in her bones; In a shallow heartbeat, she considered that perhaps she had known this pearl of wisdom all along. By appearance they seemed less united by blood than any two strangers that perchance should meet. But his eyes told of his blood, each the thick red of crushed cherries. He was Itachi Lykoi, the Betrayer. He was Itachi Lykoi, the darkblood.

Her hand receded from it's delicate perch above his own. She felt colder now than she had before.

"Yes... Yes, of course," Vengeance should have been exacted. This was a cursed thing they had done, in many ways. The numbness shrouded her from intelligent pain. "... Are you going to hurt me?" The question was asked in a vague voice, and the girl found that she was not afraid of this thought. The worst hurt would only be done if Kaena, or Gabriel, were to find out about her insolence. She thought of the penance she had exacted from him now, and tried to concentrate on that, rather than how her traitorous blood had sung to his touch. "No one must know of this." A sudden whisper, to herself more than to him, but in it was buried a rasp of the power she had held over him that day. China was a child of the earth; She accepted death more readily than any.

SoSuWriMo: 463

She heard his first response, but having already thought it aloud in her head, found no surprise in the simple declination. No, he would not hurt her, not this day. Another, perhaps, when he had finished his metamorphosis. Only time would tell of such things.

Her elegant ears, usually so mirthfully poised atop a grey-showered crown, were now lying in flattened dejection as the girl circled thoughts in her head. She stewed on this newest situation, lost to her own queerly absent surges of guilt, almost forgetting entirely the catalyst for this newest twist of fate. He sat beside her still, but in China's mind, she sat alone.

The girl would never have thought herself as selfish, and nor would have those that admired her so. But in her heart, China was such a thing. She thought of those who she loved as irreplaceable to the construction of her own world, and thus precious; A strangely warped perception of the love-induced coma her world was supposed to be. How Itachi fit into this parody of affection, the silvery princess was not yet sure. She had begun to disturb herself with a lack of emotional response, and so the golden traitor's question was almost a relief.

She blinked, startled from these innermost collisions, and pulled that pupil-wide stare back to him. For a moment, she studied him in silence; Studied him hard, weighing up each facet of his face, each drop of pinprick blood in his rose eyes. They held no threat, merely the mild curiosity she expected to see if he were to ask of the weather. This upset her far more than his admission had.

One hand moved of it's own accord to grip his arm in a surprisingly vice-like hold, if he would allow it. Her eyes, usually permitting such an unpleasant emotion as fear, now shone with it. Not fear of him, though; fear of the condemnation that would await her, on confession to the family she had left behind to see him this day. "They must not know, Itachi," her face was drawn tight with the horror of such thoughts, "I would be banished, as you are. I could not survive, knowing their loathing of me. They Must. Not. Know." It was love she survived on; love she fed off of. Without it, the songbird would surely lose her voice forever.

It was as if the contemplation of such events exhausted her. Never did she think of potential exile as being trapped with him - It was more a forceful separation from those she required to remain as she was. Outside, small snowflakes had began to fall; through the stained window China's gaze traced their spiralling descent into the abysmal gloom below.

SoSuWriMo: 555

For a moment, it seemed that he would remain impartial to the silverchild's desperation, her craving for reassurance from this most unlikely of quarters. What was it that she wanted from him now? A promise, not to wander back into the place of his banishment and tell for all to hear of his conquests within the delicate body of China Rose Lykoi? It was an absurdity, but that strange fear clawed at her throat still.

This was defiance, that she stayed in his presence, when any saner girl aught have fled. He was, after all, an assumed killer - The very thing her grandmother had warned her of. But Itachi did not appear to be the Big Bad Wolf, and China had never considered herself vulnerable. She was safe and warm within the exterior of peace, that unbreachable loving nature that exuded from her very pores. But this was not safety, and still she remained, to the horror and bafflement of the confused conscience within.

It was not until his hand moved to rest on hers, did China finally realize with a sharp intake of breath what it was her heart had not divulged.

She didn't want to stop seeing the traitor.

At once, she was torn. Pulling her hand abruptly from beneath his gentle clasp, she rose from their seated place on the wall. Her stiff and cold muscles ached and groaned their refute, but China had little thought to spare them just now. She stood a moment more, looking on the golden boy with a gaze so full of clashing emotions that it was unreadable. Arms encircled her slender, winsome body in a tight hug, but she did not flee - merely, she stood, shifting weight from one foot to another, an unbroken filly observing a bridle for the first time. What was this thing that wished to control her? Should she allow it within her grace once more?

Never had the silvery girl expected to have this difficulty arise, but it had. Itachi was now a part of her world - an important part, whispered that loathsome voice at the back of her mind - and the thought of relinquishing him to keep this dreadful secret was undesirable. The songbird had never faced such conflict as this; she pulled herself together tighter, cerulean gaze searching him for answers that her own mind would not provide.

He polluted her. Each second spent in his presence was a second closer to the cage - a second further away from her precious earthmother. But she wanted him; Wanted to have him, a secret in her mind. The unbidden thought was tantalising. Keep him, it said in tones of lust and wantonness, they would never have to know. They would never, never have to know. Perhaps she was young and naive enough to believe that thought, just as she believed Itachi when he said that he would not hurt her. "Why?" She voiced the danger out loud, wanting his warmth but refusing it at the same time. "You knew I was Lykoi blood. Why did you do this?" Perhaps he hadn't known any better. Perhaps he found her presence necessarily endearing, as she did his. China needed to know, to make her decision final.

SoSuWriMo: 525

She refused to be fooled by the flatness of his tone. China had felt his heartbeat race to the strum of her fingers, once; She knew he had the ability to feel, just as she did. The coolness to his tone served only to agitate her further. He, a murderer? Cerulean gaze moved with jerky motions over the boy, as if seeking some obvious physical flaw that might have marked him as one. There was, of course, none. Itachi Lykoi was handsome to a flaw, just as her beauty held much reminiscent trouble for her. Unable to gaze at him any longer, unable to bear herself denial to once more touch that pale golden fur, transient orbs of Lapis Lazuli travelled back to the glazed windows. She could not deal with this indecision for much longer - It was not in the girl's Fae nature to be able to deny herself instant gratification, to be able to prolong the acquisition of what it was she wanted. And, curse her royal blood for it, she wanted Itachi Lykoi.

Perhaps there had been some mistake, some redeeming miscalculation that had meant an assumption of murder. Maybe he had never tried to kill her grandmother. Drawn back to their unearthly light like moths to a flame, China allowed her gaze to dart back to crimson rose. No, there could be no doubt - This was the Prince of betrayal. He was what they had warned her about, what they would forbid her from. Ah, but forbidden fruits are always the sweetest.

His voice conjured her back to attention, the wispy creature made flightless by this unseemly predicament. How had she fallen from grace so fast? There was a harried grace to her motions, and she moved to crouch before him now, short plume curled high in unease. She was not afraid of him, as perhaps she should be, but nor was she relaxed in his presence. Being near to him made her skin tingle - Once, she thought that had been pleasant. Now she was not so sure. "It just is. Two of the same blood should not do what we did," Even as she spoke it, she did not believe it; such was clear in her eyes, if the boy dared to look deep enough, "I am not for you, Itachi. They would never allow it." The cold light played over her short-cropped hair, the flush that had returned to her face with the presence of warm blood. Now that she had defrosted, the porcelain doll's beauty was returning.

She gazed at him a while longer, considering, measuring. "You are different," It was a statement, not a question. Ears had begun to lift from her crown, as acceptance for the sin she had committed, and continued to commit by remaining in his presence, sunk in. "You are not normal, like they are. Not like them; Inside." No condemnation laced her pretty words - Not yet. One hand lifted to press against her heart, to show him where she meant. Pupils narrowed, still considering.