[M] You've had me underrated


POSTED: Fri Jan 11, 2019 2:57 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


December beginning sometime

It would be magnanimous of her to ignore the Serf that returned empty handed but without the man she had called for. She should suffer his careless goading with long suffering poise, as a higher-born Lady might have.

Helena was no such thing. Not truly.

A black and white horse stormed through the winter snows, kicking up drifts and sending small flurries from his heels. Harder she pushed him, until the man's cat-infested abode drew into her view. She drew Nani up sharply, the edges of her anger unfurling to fly free, a flag in the wind, dragged a thousand different ways.

She reigned in the impulse to burst in and drag him out by the hair. Such a thing would be unseemly, no matter how she might enjoy it. Low on the horizon, a weak sun peeked through the skeletal trees. The quiet singing of the early rising winter birds provided her a melodic background music. She inhaled a calming breath, exhaling it slowly.

She slipped inside, a poisonous, trailing fog. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. Her missive lay crumpled on the floor, just beyond his bed. He splayed arrogantly even in sleep, though without the perpetual sneer upon his face he was almost handsome... almost. Light footsteps brought her closer, she could almost reach out and touch him, brush away the errant strand of hair that dared to linger across his face.

She reached forwards, fingers tasting the air and curl hold. Her claws tightened on the fur that he slept on, with a great heave of muscle she spilled from abruptly from his slumberous repose and onto the hard floor, the furs following him to add to the chaos of his sudden awakening,

"Oh good. You are awake." She drawled simply, folding her arms across her chest and fixing his flailing form with a cool stare,

"We 'ave business to attend to."

Helena Troy Lykoi

The Quartermaster
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Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till

POSTED: Fri Jan 11, 2019 1:51 pm


When the intimidating black dog has shown up on his doorstep, Ankh had been swift to instruct Allspice to turn him away. Then he'd rolled back over and continued his slumber. He knew all too well who would be looking for his at this ungodly hour and turning the slave- servant- away had given him a small burst of pleasure that easily lulled him back into a deep sleep. The dark tomcat hadn't returned to his usual post, hidden under the roofs support beams way up high, he'd remained outside, perched upon the roots that served as the other extremities of the roof. Dully, half asleep, Ankh regarded this as a good sign, for the cat could instruct his next unwelcome visitor to fuck off.

It didn't work of course, since Ankh hadn't been betting on the Quartermaster to come looking for him herself. The great tomcat sat with unblinking eyes as he watched the Dragoness approach in a furious tempest. Bold as he was, he knew better than to make enemies when many regarded him as little more than a glorified pet. Allspice didn't trust Helena not to set something larger and more ferocious upon him should he offend her in some way. His loyalties still remained with Ankh, but the cat was not bound by blind obedience after all.

Inside, the Pale Man slumbered peacefully. He lay deep in a dream, a violent dream which filled him with such pleasure. Unconcious, claws curled instinctively, a reaction to whatever sordid nightmare his mind was dreaming up. Lips raised and revealed pale teeth, surprisingly elegant for such a bedraggled creature. His dream was so close it's delicious climax and Ankh felt as if he could sleep forever with this dream to keep him company.

And then he was falling.

Abruptly, for what felt like an eternity wrapped inside an instant, his heart felt as if it had left his body. His soul too felt as if it had drifted far away from the mortal world. As quickly as it began, he awoke, his body in a crumpled pile on the floor, his bony spine playing host to the furs he slept upon. Sleep filled eyes looked upwards, like raw infant searching blindly for the shape of it's an adoring mother. There was no adoring here. Only hatred and burning passion. He made no quick effort to move, instead smirking upwards towards the bi-eyed woman's thunderous face.

'The view from here is outstanding...' he purred, knowing a sharp dig in the ribs was likely coming his way.
The Warden
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pale man