[M] I threw us into the flames - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: [M] I threw us into the flames (/showthread.php?tid=28993) Pages:
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- Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
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He had told Enkiel to ride ahead and wait at the city. It had been a long ride west and he felt trepidation building, burning, in his chest. There was something unfamiliar about it and Ezekiel had no idea what to make of such a sensation. Deep in his gut a weight, cold and heavy, twisted. It had been easier to talk to Myrika. The drugs were wearing thin and so he smoked as he rode, lacing his body with opium, lacing it with cannabis, lacing it with the things he needed to chase away the aches and pains and the nausea that grew in his throat as the river was left behind. Below him the red horse shifted, moving at the easy trot that had carried them away from his kingdom and crown, and turned him back into a no one. The once Aquila liked this better. The coyote slipped from Viggo’s back not half a mile from the borders. He hesitated a beat and then pulled off the bow, the quiver, and even the bag that carried all of his most treasured possessions. Viggo snorted and shoved his head towards the scarred man, and in that cross way he always spoke, argued with him. Ezekiel reassured him and sent him off with a promise of coming before dawn. He turned, unarmed, nude save for the necklace at his throat and the ring on his hand and traveled with the well-placed steps of a master woodsman. He slowed only once, and that was to wash the scent of Inferni from his pelt in the smaller river. It was the last and final thing to do to cut his ties to the place. With only the scent of smoke and his own musk clinging to him, Ezekiel crossed the borders of the Thistle Kingdom on his own two legs and moved swiftly through the night. It was a singular animal he hunted, and a dangerous one at that. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] what brings us together is what tears us apart (+3)
The darkness was a balm, seeping into his flesh with cool, soothing fingers. Like a lover, the forest welcomed him, opened for him, and the King slipped into her waiting embrace without hesitation. Nothing stirred in the depths here; Nothing but ghostly shadows, sliding their wicked forms over gnarled and grasping branches. There was a hollow silence that filled the world, ebbing gently, like a pulse that could be felt but not heard. Overhead, the baleful eye of the moon watched on, grim and brooding as a bruising of clouds marred its pearly hue.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
Inferni had never been his true home. It had been a place spoken of, a place he knew only through memory and language. His home was a land of wild woods and deep winters, where only the strong survived. His home was isolation and the madness that came with such a thing. So in many ways, Inferni, though it had been his kingdom, was a strange land. He felt no kinship to that place now, and he had not since the time had returned. All of these things fell from his shoulders like a terrible weight, shed off in the grasping tendrils of blackened boughs and reaching thistles. Yet because he was a man of such wilderness, and because it was familiar to him, he moved through this night and this landscape as if it was familiar. His pelt was not made for such night and each moonbeam glinted off of it like a flash of gold, glistening in the night. He might have been betrayed for this, but he did not fear the night’s betrayal. Ahead of him a prize waited, and Ezekiel trailed it patiently. Ahead the trees parted. The coyote stilled to admire the King; he was a sight, dark and wild and still. A wolfish, greedy smile parted his jaws and allowed the tips of ivory teeth to gleam in the night. Without fear Ezekiel advanced from his hiding place, walking not with the bold and brash steps of a king, but the soft and well-worn pace of a man who had spent eons in the wilderness. His eyes glistened in the night like twin suns. “It takes all the fun out of this,” he said, his voice roughened as it had not been before the war and before the wound to his throat. “Chasing someone that wants to be caught.” #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] what brings us together is what tears us apart (+)
For a while, he sat; But not too long. The wind whispered secrets in his large, dark ears, and filled him with a patience he did not understand. Behind his eyelids, the world was dark, but he saw it all with crystal clarity - Removing one sense only heightened the others, and the forest rustled, revealing creatures that moved and lived in the night. Their scents came to him, sweet and fragrant, teasing the hunter and begging him to take the bait. But he remained still, crosslegged, palms resting lightly on dark knees.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
There was something so blatant and flippant about the way Sirius spoke that lit old flames deep in his belly, where they had been snuffed by the weight of Inferni’s rule. His chains were gone now, and with them, any need or desire to act or behave as his clansmen expected. So his toothy smile, all daggers and knives, glistened in the moonlight and welcomed the poison that his would-be brother offered. A hand the color of dried blood was grasped by dark mahogany and sand, and this warrior’s greeting was welcomed, and familiar. He had bid Myrika farewell with it. The fresh sting of that irony did not fall short on him, and his smile faltered long before the question came. He stared up at Sirius, not challenging, not even demanding, but ultimately sad and ultimately sorry. The arm under his hand felt solid and warm and real, and he clung to it now as if he needed to be grounded. For a long time he said nothing and finally, as it had before, the words spilled from his mouth. “I’m leaving,” he said, and unlike when he had told Myrika, his voice waivered. “I don't belong there,” Ezekiel added, desperately, looking into the Thistle King’s eyes as if he might understand why when the others had not. Someone had to understand. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] what brings us together is what tears us apart (+3)
The contact was sharp, warm, firm. Narrowed pupils looked down to where rust melded with cream, and noted the blending of fur there, the strength within the grip. Electricity raced up his arm from the point of meshing, sizzling through veins in a way that was entirely feral; the thin blade of suspicion and trust, friend and foe. They were neither, for they were brothers without blood - Brothers in the darkness of the night.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
The pressure around his arm tightened. Ezekiel was glad for it. He was glad for the pain. He wanted the pain. He wanted someone to be angry with him. Hell, he was angry at himself. A deep and terrible part of his psyche heard everything that went unsaid and threw it back at him. Lucifer was doubt, after all, and the devil was a part of all of them for this reason. His arm began to tremble because it wasn’t enough and it would never be enough. Punishment suited deserters and traitors and the faithless, and Ezekiel, whose blood was thick with the lines of Inferni, was a man turning his back on his own legacy. Both of his arms were pulled taunt and Ezekiel gave into the motion, letting them go limp. He stared into the eyes of the wood-colored king, seeing himself, seeing everything he was not, and a deep and terrible resentment twisted in his gut. It was unfair. Sirius had succeeded where he had not. He had done what Ezekiel could not, would not do, and some part of him saw this as a defeat. Then came the demand. Ezekiel’s jaw dropped at the words, and his eyes widened in the dark. Dumbstruck, he simply stared into Sirius’ eyes and saw that there was no lie. His hands began to tremble. “I can’t,” he said, half-whispered. “I can’t,” he repeated, louder, his voice raw. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] The man's face was changing, shock and shame pooling within those eyes of molten gold, and Sirius' stomach clenched painfully, enough that he shuddered, enough that his yellow teeth flashed and his brows furrowed tightly. Ezekiel was going limp, allowing himself to be overcome - There was no challenge, no spark of fight within the handsome planes of the other man's features. There was nothing for the serpent to hook his fangs into, nothing to light the fire of argument. There was nothing.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
After so long, even this felt hollow. Something in the air between them rippled and shattered as a hand flew down and struck him hard enough that his vision blacked out for an instant. He was aware of the claws digging into his arms, of the hot rage radiating from Sirius’ body, and under a haze of blonde-white hair he saw a monster that looked so familiar to him now, even more then he had moments ago. This was what they were. Savages. Monsters. They were the cannibal ghosts that he still saw, chasing him. There were such terrible things in the woods besides eagles; there were serpents, and tigers, and stags. Then suddenly his lungs were filled with warm air and the raw, potent musk of the Thistle King. Ezekiel felt his ribs ache from the force of the embrace and a part of him welcomed that. It was enough that his face broke into an honest smile, and he began to laugh, breathlessly, into the thick pelt and the sinewy muscles. He laughed because he didn’t know what else to say, or do, and both of his hands reached up beyond the body pressed against his own. One dug sharply into the strong back and the other found its home in the thick, tousled hair of the dark coyote. Ezekiel forced his head back and stared into his eyes, laughing still, and felt his heart rip asunder. “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. He knew exactly what he was leaving and he knew that this man, alone among his peers, would suffer. There was only so much pretense that one could survive. Madness was black and thick and part of them, like Legion, part of them, like their legacy and their lineage, and it always would be. They had fallen to each other in those times of doubt and strife and now, they would be alone. They would be with others but somehow always alone. “I’m not your subject, Thistle King,” he said lowly. “I don’t answer to you.” And he smiled. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] Hands crept up his spine, hands that could tear a man apart, could plunge a dagger or loose an arrow. Hands that knew the embrace of death. His skin shivered in response, body cresting its wave of anger and sorrow, black lips writhing as rust-hued fingers tangled in his dark raven locks.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-28-2012 [html]
Before, and during the war, Ezekiel would have ripped Sirius’ still-beating heart from his chest. He would have dug his hands into his belly and found whatever blackened part of his soul remained and swallowed it. There was no fight left in him—he had given it all in that last great battle, when a sword had found home in his chest, when a shield had crushed his ribs under that madman’s weight. Sirius had saved his life when he had driven his blade deep between the wolf’s shoulders. Maybe that was why he had come to him; he could have fled, silently, into the night and instead he was here. He was looking for some sort of punishment, some answer, someone to tell him that he was wrong and selfish and confirm everything he already knew. He knew, deeper than this, that nothing would change his mind. The rage left Sirius and a lesser, though still brilliant, fire took its place. Ezekiel saw but did not comprehend it at first for what it was. Then, gradually, as he felt hands around his face and in his hair he realized what he should have known a long time ago. His eyes closed and he leaned into the warmth of the body next to his. He began to laugh again, but the laugh died in his throat in a strangled, choking sob. The end of the world came in a quiet flood, and it sought to bury him. Ezekiel clung to Sirius because he could not control his body anymore. Great, heaving sobs escaped him as his legs gave out under him. There should have been words. There should have been something he could have said, something he could have done, but he didn’t know what was left to be said. His body spoke in ways he could not, betraying him as it trembled and held onto the only real thing it still believed in. Beyond duty, beyond family, beyond the demons, beyond even God, he believed only in what was real and it was this man, now, this man who he was betraying even now as he called upon him for strength. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 06-28-2012 [html] They had bonded through blood - Once foes, now more, and less, than that. Sirius could comprehend the depth of his feelings, for they bloomed before him in obvious colors, so stark and brilliant that he couldn't imagine having never seen them, couldn't imagine his bleak winter world without them. Such sensory pain and pleasure entwined, until the man couldn't understand why it had taken them so long, why it had never been this way before. But the question was answered by its own silence - Only now, in the wake of this loss and this betrayal, could they be such a thing, could they see such a splendid hue.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] [M] I threw us into the flames - Ezekiel de le Poer - 06-29-2012 [html]
Piece by piece, he was stripped down to his core. Away fell obligations, away fell needs and demands, and with his armor and his chains gone, the proud eagle was made mortal. Ezekiel had suffered great wounds long ago by another man, and that first wound—that ultimate and terrible fear of death—it had been forced into him by way of a demon king, crow-wolf, father of a woman who served as slave unto these very lands. He had looked, as a boy, to others to guide him, to save him. Now as a man he had nowhere to turn but inward, and inside of him lingered a deep and terrible chaos made of darkest night and hungry, burning eyes. Hell was Inferni, and now that he was free of it, Ezekiel walked with the damned in Purgatory. The impure suffered and relived their sins, waiting, silent, until the angels and their Lord saw fit to allow them into the arms of the divine. Once, he believed he lived with grace. If he had been holy then, he had fallen. He didn’t feel holy anymore. He just felt hollow. Yet it was that damned self control that still fought him, still refused complete surrender. The savage would not accept anything less. While he felt something solid against his own head, and another, moving to his heart, his own traitor hand moved like a viper. It struck his own face sharply, hard enough that the sobs were cut off in a breath of hot air. He panted, eyes wide, muzzle twitching in a half-snarl, and that madness held him completely for a moment more as his body sank, with some resistance, to the floor. The snarl-smile on his face did not hide the sickness in his eyes, which reflected the moonlight and glowed in the dark under his white-blonde hair. His back arched up against Sirius and he twisted his body, untangled his legs, allowed himself to be pinned even as his mouth showed his teeth and tongue. There was a fight within him still. There was hate in his eyes, but not for Sirius. Even now, he hated himself for this. He hated himself for the surrender and the knowledge of what he was about to do. “Abashed the devil stood,” his voice came, low and throaty. His fingers twisted themselves into dark tendrils, needy, demanding. “, and felt how awful goodness is.” #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 07-17-2012 [html] There was a burning brand that singed him, fingers that fell against flesh and left a permanent mark sizzled deep within his consciousness. It was not an insignia of claiming, nor of ownership, but the kind of wound left by a scar that told a specific story. It was written on the slate of his pages, written that the beast had found a challenger to meet him on every level, and that they two would be united by this immortality until distance and loss tore them apart.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-17-2012 [html]
His body stiffened, instinctively, against the probing fingers. So rare was it to know touch in this way; Ezekiel spoke with his body, with his hands, and he felt strands of white-hot electricity jolt between them. Yet as he lay, back against the cold earth, his eyes were certain and solemn and twin coals hollowed out by hell-fire. So while he heard words—some foreign tongue, something he recognized as somehow familiar—it was his body that truly listened. Teeth sunk into his neck, through the straw colored fur, down to the skin that held taunt. It was not meant to kill. If Sirius had meant to kill him, he would have. Amber eyes closed under his sunbleached hair and Ezekiel leaned his muzzle against the lean, coyote face of his companion (brother? Lover?) and breathed out hot air. His lungs felt heavy. Then something in him rebelled, as was nature, and his head snaked forward, his nose digging under the thick hair, till his teeth found hold along the collarbone. They sunk in, harder than he had perhaps intended, and a growling demand reverberated through his chest. His hands did not move, yet obedient to a lifetime of repression and doubt. The hot, hard thing between his legs was more traitorous and his hips arched up, pressing it against Sirius’ groin. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 07-18-2012 [html] There was a pulse beneath his fangs, beneath the flesh and fur that filled his starving mouth. Delicately, a salmon tongue traced the area within, feeling and knowing that pulse as it quickened its staccato beat. A muzzle moved to rest against him, deceptively calm and submissive, alarmingly desirable to the mocha brute and the flames of desperation that clawed viciously at his insides. Then, suddenly, the frame beneath him bucked again, and that mild caress unleashed a sudden strike at the sensitive line of his collar.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-18-2012 [html]
There was a shift even as he tasted iron on his tongue. He was sprawled on the ground, and one of those hands came down like a shackle. Ezekiel growled deeply; this was what he needed. Someone had to stop him. Someone had to grab control because he could not. This was forbidden. This was everything that he knew to be wrong; this was surrender, and submission, and sin. His entire body stiffened at the sensation of strong, needy fingers. Then the grip became a vice around the length of his cock, hard and rough. He sucked in a breath of night air in a gasp, choked on the scent and taste of Sirius’ hair (salt, smoke, fern, marsh, musk). Ezekiel’s hips jerked upward as heat spread through the length of his groin, blinding, silencing. A throaty moan escaped his throat as his shoulders gave way and he writhed against the cool grass below him. Both eyes snapped open, wide, fierce and terrible. He showed his teeth, half-mad, head lolling. “Stop fucking around,” he rumbled, and writhed as the King acquiesced. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 07-18-2012 [html] Temptation had always been in the realm of Sirius Revlis. As a youth, he had reveled in it, dipped his toes in the sumptuous rivers of life, lived freely and richly on the bounties of decadence that London had offered. But such sinful living had come at a price - The man had felt himself become detached, a creature merely floating atop the drifts and currents of life, spinning out of control and tossed by situations not of his design.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-18-2012 [html]
In the ways of wild things, Ezekiel knew that the base drive to mate was to make children. He had assessed women before, in a detatched, calculating way and considered them to be options. Kastra, gruff and coarse, had been the only one he truly felt comfortable around. She had gone to Scintilla, now, and he did not see the path to the south as one for him to walk. He could not face them and lie, as he lied before, as he lied to his father, because his world was based on the Word and everything that was happening now was wrong. His mind thought these things, but it burned under the heat of the dark horse, the tempter, the Fallen One. Ezekiel’s eyes rolled back in his head and his head twisted, one eye wide and the other screwed shut. He reached a hand up to the thick mass of fur along the lean, lanky body above him. Lucifer, he mouthed, smiling, manic. This was his final temptation; this was his last and most terrible trial. One leg hooked around the dark coyote’s waist, pulling him, and Ezekiel pressed against the hard, damp pressure near the base of his tail. He twisted his head and closed his teeth around one large, torn ear, and tugged earnestly. #zeke-raven { font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size:14px; width:95%; margin:0px auto; line-height:18px; } #zeke-raven p { text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0; } #zeke-raven p.zeke-img { text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; float:right; margin:5px; } #zeke-raven .txtooc { text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:georgia, serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } #zeke-raven .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;} #zeke-raven b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; } #zeke-raven u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; } #zeke-raven b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } </style>[/html] - Sirius Revlis - 08-17-2012 [html] He had known many women, known them intimately - Known their bodies, the scorching heat of their lusts, the simmering, bitter disappointment in fine features when he flicked them a brassy coin and dissipated back out into the cold embrace of the nighttime. This was how he had procured his lusts; Between thighs soft and supple, against a cushion of breasts. He had known men with harder tastes, a wanton craving for the flesh of their own gender, and while he had not partaken of such pleasures within his own youth, this was not something the snake had condemned. Sex was without gender, in itself an act of dominance or submission, of passion and control. He, the contaminated and the condemned, had never been taught by a righteous god that man did not lay with man, that redemption could only be found in a woman's most vulnerable place.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] |