[m] - blackbird singing in the dead of night

Alaine Winters · 12-02-2010, 02:10 AM

Set in Arachnea's Revenge nearing Inferni borders, at some hour of night.

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WARNING This thread contains: sexual content starting with the 24th post. Reader discretion is advised.

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table © Alaine
ooc: oh hai
wc: 266

The air was cool, and it whispered sweet seductions through her pelt. By grace of moonlight the woman strode, and but for the lurking menace of her shadow she was alone. By midnight and darkness she walked, eyes of purest emerald lit feverishly. The trail she followed, that of her son, had ended long ago; Many hours ago. But her feet would not stop. The night called, long and lonely as wind howled through foreign pines.

She had the vague sense of knowing where she was headed. Somewhere, beyond the grasping tearing fingers of the forest, was Inferni land. The merciless land. But it was not longing for death that had carried her so far, oh no - The fires burned in her veins still, unquenchable at last by the cruel grip of fate, for finally a sort of fury had gripped her lonesome soul and twisted it like a keen edge between shoulder-blades. Her family was gone, and again she rose, a phoenix from the ashes of this mortal despair.

By now, sorrow had ebbed from hollow bones. Her body was lean muscles and silken fur - Alaine's foster daughter had cared for her well the past few days. The son she sought had not been found, and now there was a keening in her ribcage, and a strange effervescence had taken hold of her dancer's limbs. The dagger glinted wickedly in her gloved hand, as the healer within sunk down into the damp recesses of consciousness. Primal urges surfaced.

A startled bird took wing somewhere further off, and seeking confrontation, the Optime woman hearkened.

Speak think walk

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Gabriel de le Poer · 12-05-2010, 04:45 AM

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He's in his optime form by the time he calls for her, if this post is a bit unclear. :] +3

There was a peculiar feeling in his chest. It was not truly in his chest, but below it—somewhere between his heart and his stomach. A feeling that was almost like a pit, a hollow sort of sinking sensation that burned and felt cold all at once. He hated it. Gabriel did not know what it meant, only that it stung with a bitterness that was fast becoming friend to him. Everything he had worked for was coming together while everything he had wanted unraveled bit by bit. Emotionally, he could not face all the terrible things he had done and everything he had lost, and so he did not.

Perhaps this was why that sensation had grown. Sometimes it moved between the heart and soul (Gabriel, as the old world had taught him, believed that the soul lived in the belly) and he did his best not to brood on it. He did his best not to brood on many things these days. Work, first, work and make himself tired so he could sleep soundlessly. Some nights he wanted to sleep forever.

He stayed awake at night as to avoid his clan. Hybrid alone would find him in these dark times, but they barely spoke to one another and passed like ghosts in the fog. He traveled the borders and further, but never too far—the need to stay close to Inferni was demanding now that winter drew near. Yet the urge to move came to him and so he went, a shadow with gleaming eyes travelling through ancient forests, breathing in cold air and feeling very alone in the world. The hybrid startled a noisy bird, and drew up to his full height. As he did so, he realized he was not alone. Her scent traveled through the cold wind and brought him towards it, pausing only to greet her on two legs instead of four. He did not wish to startle the woman in a more primordial shape.

“Alaine?” His voice fell against the black and leaf-bare trees and sounded strange.

Alaine Winters · 12-05-2010, 06:23 AM

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table © Alaine
ooc: c:
wc: 283

There was something about the nighttime that sung to the mortal creatures below. Those of hunting blood seemed able to feel the tangible pull of the moon and darkness, and Alaine was no exception, in spite of her ancestors' domesticated blood. As she neared the origin of the birdflight, she had fallen into a leaning crouch, emerald eyes mineral-bright in the reflected silver light. However, her hunting posture was not enough to evade the keen nose of the dark prince himself, and her name uttered in the cool wind brought the woman up short.

In the moment it took for her mind to recognize his tone and scent, Alaine's fingers had danced down the hilt of her dagger, and as she moved in a fluid turn to face him the sharp slivered tip was raised to point exactly where her mind had conjured an assailant's heart to be. It was a familiar pose they struck, for the pair had been cloaked in darkness with he facing the bite of her weapon before.

The glean of his amber eyes sparked true recognition, and she instantly lowered the weapon, although her stance was wary yet.

"... Gabriel." Perhaps he would be able to note the woman's instability from her accented tone alone. There was something different about her tonight, something wild and a little bit reckless. The slender collie-lady had been reclusive these past few weeks, spurned by pains and troubles she would not name, but now - She had tasted freedom this day and night, and it was alluring. Tempting. Feverishly bright emerald eyes watched him carefully; He was troubled, too. She could see it in the handsome lines and angles of his face.

Speak think walk

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Gabriel de le Poer · 12-05-2010, 05:48 PM

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There was the whisper of danger in her body. She still carried the dagger. Gabriel did not doubt she would one day use the blade, and he worried for her. She, like Tayui, was treading in water that would one day drown her. Gabriel knew. He had swallowed the salt-water for years. He had been drowning since the death of his brother, whose only crime had been being faster than him. He could have died that day.

She called out to him with that harmonic tone, but the notes were wrong. He sensed something in her that made his fur stand on end. In the darkness, her eyes gleamed. She looked far too feral for her soft, domesticated form. Gabriel felt his muscles tense. Something wasn’t right. He froze, large form almost invisible in the gloom. “You’re a long way from home,” he finally said. His initial tone had changed. Now there was a distance in his voice, a masked wariness. The coy-wolf did not fear her, but he respected the blade well enough.

Alaine Winters · 12-05-2010, 09:13 PM

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table © Alaine
wc: 300+

He had heard it, then; Heard the change in her. Curious emerald eyes were keen on his face. Gabriel had surely known enough danger to sense it now, prickling the air around them with tangible electrical currents. Tonight, she was not the woman he knew her to be, and it was well that he could recognize such.

Were it not for the primal glow of his eyes, she would not have known where it was the male stood - Shadows clung to him like obedient slaves, although from memory she could recall his appearance perfectly. Only his outline was faintly visible, made clearer by the wane moonlight that speared the gnarled and grasping fingers of skeletal trees around them.

His words provoked a strange reaction from the woman. She smiled, but it was not the meek and humble smile of the Apothecary; It was sharp ivory teeth, glittering beneath those entrancing eyes. A long way from home. "I suppose I am," Her tone was altered, as his was. They were not strangers, but he knew the cold bite of a blade better than he knew the innermost workings of her mind. Her fingers gently caressed the handle of the lowered dagger, almost lovingly. She had never christened it in the blood of a foe before. A sensible Alaine would have been thankful of that fact.

The woman let her piercing gaze deviate from his own, feigning a casual indifference to his immediate presence; But they both knew better. Every other sense she had was trained sharply on him. She gave no sign to show that his presence was welcome, but in fact, it most certainly was - Though she had not planned on meeting him here, the afflicted lady could think of no other she'd rather have find her.

"Tell me, Gabriel," Her words were smooth, enticing him from his wary distance, as her gaze lingered thoughtfully up at the baleful eye of the moon, "How have your gods been treating you, lately?" She knew enough of him to mark him as a religious man, although she did not share his deity worship. Her gods had abandoned her a long time ago.

Speak think walk

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Gabriel de le Poer · 12-06-2010, 01:39 AM

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He recognized the ferocity that lingered in her eyes, that echoed in the shadows which even now whispered quietly and mocked him at each turn. A predator by nature, he did not fear her—but he responded the challenge as if it had summoned him by blood. Not to attack, not to kill, but to face her now and see what it was within her that needed leashed. Gabriel lingered where he was, pale eyes gleaming in the dark.

She was calling on ancient canine ancestors that they shared, far beyond the dogs and wolves that had given them blood. Before the disease came. Before man. She was toying with him and he knew it. The hybrid would play her game.

Above all else, Gabriel was a very patient man.

“As He does,” came the veiled reply. It was not in him to speak of the Lord in such a place. “What brings you this far north?” He pried.

Alaine Winters · 12-06-2010, 02:52 AM

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table © Mel
ooc: oh mai, check out my sexy table :3 jeaaalouuusss?
wc: 300+

It took her less than an instant to recognize that he, as many who had come before him, was vulnerable to the pull of curiosity. Whatever ancient stirring had poisoned her blood with its primal potency had the same effect on him, and on all of their pathetic and miserable lives. They, the fleeting, the minuscule. Emerald eyes observed the moon eagerly. It had been there since before time as they knew it, since the birth of all life. The baleful silver eye gazed down on her now, turning her veins to electric cables.

Mineral jade slid to him as he spoke again, the sharp smile simmering about her maw.

She pulled a pensive expression artfully, turning to face him again, her hand lifted to smooth over the crackled bark of a nearby pine. Gabriel was wary of her; Perhaps he was wary of what she had become, in these hours of darkness. Not afraid, merely cautious, as though the liberating and feral mood might be contagious. The thought of his avid attention brought her great pleasure.

"I see..." And she did. His god was not a topic to be broached lightly. Dainty but sharp claws rasped over the hibernating tree, leaving thin railroad tracks in its surface. His question brought her a moment of clarity, and for a moment, shadows fell over exotic features like drawn curtains. She didn't want to think of those day-time troubles, and his questions were coming close to an inquisition.

Leaving the question hanging in the air between them, Alaine walked adjacent to him through the trees, keeping the same distance between them always. She spoke quietly enough that if he wished to hear, he would have to keep pace. Emerald eyes returned to him frequently, drawn by the alluring potency of his gaze. "You seem troubled by my appearance, Gabriel." Feminine voice was delicate, but in it simmered something more sinister. Her pawpads crunched on the remnants of dead leaf corpses. "Am I not welcome here?"

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-11-2010, 01:41 AM

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The moon had always held power. It was an ancient, mysterious thing that frightened primitive peoples because they did not understand it. Stolen light and magnetic force pulled the whole of the earth to it. He recognized that it had changed her. Somehow, too, he understood. He was not a creature made of stone, as Anu had once told him. His blood pumped hot and his eyes gleamed with that same stolen light as the moon.

A scratching noise made her presence all the more real. She walked, in and out of the shadows, and he followed her as a monster once had. His scarred face did its best to hide the concern—yet it too looked feral, bestial in the half-light. “These aren’t my lands,” he offered her. Though displeased she could so easily read him, he did not allow this to show. “I think a shadow found its way into your soul,” he continued. He thought of Haku, and heard the madman’s laughter. Perhaps he too was cursed.

Alaine Winters · 12-11-2010, 04:55 AM

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table © Mel
wc: 300+

She could tell he was following, even without catching the gleam of striking amber eyes as they followed her movement. She'd known the male would not leave her. There was a strange hunger in her blood, and Gabriel's presence was feeding it; the slender woman suspected that her appearance must have a similar reaction for him. Perhaps, she wanted it to.

His words meant nothing. This land was owned by none, but her presence was alien here, as though her body was contrived by moonlight and blood-red hair alone, and not tangible to the dark earth. She continued to walk, waiting for his rough voice to prickle her skin once more.

Gabriel did not disappoint, but more, he surprised her. Not for the bluntness, but for the realization. "Yes," She paused, poised for movement; flight or fight. Ringlets swayed in the cool breeze as fever-bright emerald eyes returned to the dark prince, now king, once more. "But I don't know how to get it out." Her expression became vulnerable, slightly scared by the words, before twisting suddenly to something darker. Alaine was confused. "And... I don't know if I want to." She stood still now, watching him, and the flesh on her bones shivered with sudden expectation. Her mineral eyes shone as his did, noticing everything, missing nothing. "Why do you resist it?"

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-14-2010, 11:57 AM

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She knew. She knew what plagued her and she knew that he was aware of it. Details aside, the darkness that cast itself into all hearts was palpable to the de le Poer. He above all others had seen its face, tasted its blood, felt it seek to destroy him. Haku was plague on these lands, but he was Gabriel’s Shadow—the coy-wolf had seen that in his eyes and known that they were the same. The scars on his face gave merit to this fact, proving he was not infallible. The fact he still heard the bastard this long after his death, too, meant something.

Yet madness was disregarded. He had been listening to voices long before he had come home. This woman’s voice puzzled him because she wavered between two worlds. It was not like Laruku and his demon. Heaven forbid he face such a thing again. Two minds or one, the coyote was a menace. He might have done what Haku had succeeded in, and slaughtered his own children. Gabriel could not have allowed such a thing to happen. He breathed into the cold night and slowed, intent on keeping space between them. That knife made him wary.

“I have seen what it does,” he warned her, his voice dropping. "As have you.” It had once tried to kill her in mortal form.

Alaine Winters · 12-15-2010, 08:57 PM

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table © Mel
feel free to PP if at any time you feel it necessary :3 knock the dagger out of her hand if you want.
wc: 300+

His reply disappointed her, though she couldn't explain why. Emerald eyes narrowed on him, thoughtfully morbid as they glowed faintly from the embrace of crude night-time shadows. Had she expected more from the paladin? Surely not he, the avenger of this soultaint, could comprehend what her darkest desires hungered for. Surely not, when she herself could not.

His words spurned chaotic memory. She recalled Beelzebub's blue eyes as clearly as she did his own ferocious amber. Sinuous dancer's body trembled again, steel-chord muscles moving of their own accord. The strange ink-blot within her blossomed, groomed as it was by the night and the moon and her own growing confusion. The light path had become disoriented, made twisted by pains of the heart, and she no longer saw what it was his ambitious nature strived for. Purity? Did that mean that she, too, had become foe to him?

Paranoia stilled the dagger in her hand. He knew its potential bite, and would seemingly keep at bay until the weapon's tongue spoke in peace or war.

Her mind was clouded, and the present was unclear. "Do you think you can save me, then?" Her voice was sharp, almost sarcastic, hiding the desperate wish beneath. He'd done it before, twice in fact. What was to stop him from becoming her savior again? Or had this madness come too far for repent? She approached him, now, wanting to know if he would hold his ground, craving the feel of his fur just so that she might know she was not truly alone.

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-18-2010, 01:21 AM

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I had this horribly wicked idea. I will PM you about it. :>

If he was fighting a holy war, it was at the cost of something he did not fully grasp. Little by little he lost bits of himself with every battle, with every scar and every slain foe. Haku had understood that. Gabriel had known that when he had looked into the beast’s eyes and felt nothing. His Shadow had learnt what Gabriel had yet to learn. The sable-coated halfbreed breathed in cold air and felt it clear his head. Whatever power she had over him (and she did, as certainly as he knew her) he could not allow it to cloud his mind. If he did, she would destroy him. Or perhaps not her, but the Shadow inside of her.

One day he would fall, but not to her, and not to any darkness. Like his father, Gabriel would burn out like a solar flare. The whole world would know of his demise. His eyes turned into gleaming bits of amber, burning against his dark face, and he felt her words as if they were a slap. How arrogant of him, to think he could do such a thing. On his muzzle an old scar burned, reminding him of another such mistake. Gabriel’s lips pulled away from his teeth doggishly.

“It is not my duty to save the lost,” he warned her. “, only to punish the wicked.” And he believed this. As certainly as he believed in heaven, in the Voice, in God and in Truth, he believed this.

Alaine Winters · 12-18-2010, 02:12 AM

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table © Mel
buahahahahaaaa >:]
wc: 200+

In the darkness, they stood alone. Two entities; one killer, one savior, but which was which? The lines had become blurred. Once, it had been all too easy to know of her innocence, the sickly sweet perfume of naivety being slaughtered on a wandering breeze. Now there was just He, and She, and the Darkness between them.

It festered in her, drawing like an infection closer to warm marrow. It feared and hated him. The dagger glinted wickedly in her fragile ivory fingers.

His eyes were burning now, and she craved that warmth to fill her blood with fire. It had been so long since she'd felt it. For a moment, she loathed him for his strength, for his ability to stand unhindered by all the reckless strings that pulled on her body. But he was not immune to the passion of anger, either. He was no god.

She stepped closer, ignoring the snarl, eyes leaping with green flame. Her ivory teeth glinted in the cold moonlight, the shadows drawing tight claustrophobic talons about them both. "And which am I, Gabriel?" The woman's words were a poisonous hiss, "Would you punish me?" The dagger leaped in an arc, cold liquid silver in her fingers, one hand lifted towards him, as though to rest upon his arm.

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-18-2010, 02:32 AM

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All around them came all shades of darkness, whispering for them to come, stay, never leave, linger, wait. Somewhere, too, a dead beast was laughing. Gabriel heard these things but above all he heard the whisper of the knife as it cut through the air, the whisper of its need for blood. The hybrid’s teeth bared themselves to the night and he snarled a feral thing that echoed that desire. One hand flew to meet her own, gripping her frail wrist as if it were a vice.

It took him one fluid motion to knock her off her feet, though he guided her to the ground in doing so. His weight was massive compared to her lithe form, and he took care to not crush her under him. Yet he pinned her with such force that it hardly seemed so. Black hair spilled over his face, which twisted into a terrible mask of violence—a mask that spoke of the men he had slain, the wars he had fought, the horrors he had seen. Under it all, the Shadow remained.

“There are far more terrible things than I,” he growled. “Men that would use your body and break your mind and spirit for their need,” the word became a terrible hiss, dropping his voice dangerously. It dripped poison. He lowered his face to her own, never once breaking her gaze. “You would be nothing to them. Your life is worthless in their eyes.”

Alaine Winters · 12-18-2010, 03:15 AM

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It happened too quickly for retaliation. Too quickly for compromise. Her body hit cold earth with force enough to sweep the air from her lungs - A quick inhale filled them with cold, cold, cold. His eyes were demonic. Her throat constricted in fear, the dagger having been dropped, laying inches now from her trapped hands, bruised wrists.

The shadow in her receded to deep crevices. It saw the hunter and knew defeat. Unguarded, her mind brimmed with terror.

His body was heavy, and warm. Strands of dark hair whispered over her upturned face as his, ghastly, lingered but an inch away. Her own spilled, a bloody puddle, about her head. Gabriel's breath was hot and tepid, and for a moment, she saw not his face, but the face of another, the face of her nightmares, her every aching phobia. The face that had haunted her for a lifetime - Vidar. Blood turned to ice in the woman's veins. She did not struggle, but froze in his hateful embrace.

Words triggered some sort of consciousness from her terror. That was not his voice, that was the voice of the prince and the Shadow. That was the voice of irony; All he spoke had come to pass. A single tear slid down her cheek, the woman's fractured mask revealing for a moment the gaping black hole of her life, the life he hadn't known, the life he hadn't saved her from. A sickly laugh bubbled in her chest, ebbing out into the silence like a quiet scream.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Omra súile..." She trembled with the fear that rode her body like waves, a small spasm of pain breaking her mask in two, "I was a princess, once..." And she laughed that terrible, cold laugh again, but this time it sounded like a sob.

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-18-2010, 03:32 AM

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Heat burned up from her frail body and for an instant it felt as if he had broken her. Then suddenly, the laughter. Suddenly, Haku was in his head and he realized what he was doing. Her voice broke through him more deeply than that small dagger could have. With a strangled noise he recoiled from her as if she was truly on fire. Gabriel scrambled away from her childishly, falling back onto his palms and feeling the frozen earth under them. Haku continued to laugh. He had almost done it. He had almost made him a monster.

The hybrid shuddered violently and pulled his hands up, putting them to his face. He sucked in breaths quickly, and that moment of weakness made his body shiver and quake. Gabriel stayed like this until the laughter subsided. When the beast had once more grown quiet, he sat hunched, defeated, and folded his ears back. No more was he a warrior-king. Only a man burdened by the things he dare not speak of. A moment of terrible weakness was all it took to show that he too, was mortal.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look at her face for fear of what he might see. “I’m sorry.”

Alaine Winters · 12-18-2010, 04:11 AM

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Her words burned him, inside out, and she saw the torture in amber eyes before they tore away. The cold dark earth laughed beneath her trembling body, as it had once before. It was a sound she knew as well as her own heartbeat.

She lay still for a long time, emerald eyes gazing blindly at the moon, that hateful thing. That terrible thing. Somewhere in the darkness Gabriel clung to his sanity. The sobs still moved as a relentless tide through her, but they were dry, and slowly they too stilled. Her head became clear. The terror subsided.

His whisper broke the spell, and she pulled herself from the ground. Her fur was bone white where the moonlight sliced it, emerald eyes looking at him now, at him, and they were her eyes, not the eyes of the tainted and the afraid. Shadows swum deep in their depths. She moved to him in the darkness, her body soft and welcoming as hands slid down his shoulders, frame seating itself beside his curled up bulk. "I know." The woman's voice was soft, reassuring. It sounded stronger than she felt. But Alaine was built to survive this. Her mind became blank and calm.

His body heat felt real against the coldness of the night. She needed, desperately, to feel real. "Look at me," her whispered voice almost begged it, one hand moving as it would to cup his face, "Please." She just needed to feel it. She just needed it to be real again.

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-22-2010, 11:43 AM

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She touched him but he only felt the slight weight of her hands on his shoulder. Gabriel’s breathing began to steady itself, his mind yet unwilling to bend to demons. It was the tone of her voice that settled him. Slowly, ever slowly, his body eased up. His own mind’s hurricane settled and left him calm, focused on breathing in only the cold night air and her scent. Her hand touched his face and he looked at her as if he was seeing someone else. Once upon a time, she had been someone else—a girl running from the monsters that had been far realer than the one they had faced.

“My daughter was raped,” he said suddenly, his eyes gleaming. “It almost destroyed her.” Perhaps it had. Talitha had never stayed with the clan long. Gabriel suspected this was because of the memories of the place. Though he did not fear for himself, and he did not fear for others, he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

He did not move to touch her, as if fearing what either of them might do.

Alaine Winters · 12-23-2010, 04:37 AM

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His cheek was warm against her palm, but the heat was incomparable to that of amber eyes, searing coals in the darkness. Her own, acid green, lay livid in attention to the male's face. The shadow King's walls were crumbling, and yet, with that seemed to come essence of resolve. Strength. She listened to the rustic voice, the small tone of guilt, and heard more than his words; thought of this unknown but kindred woman who's life had shattered with the same brutal force of her own.

"Our minds will never forgive," And again came the blue eyes of her pursuers - One he had saved her from, one he had not - to the tarnished folds of her mind. No, she would never forgive. Pupils widened, sucking in the stray moonlight, and followed the path of her hand as it trailed down the hard line of his jaw, his throat, to rest upon his chest. "But with time..." Accented tone was a whisper, and she felt strangely nervous, distinctly aware of the heat of his body, the hard muscles beneath her palm, "... With time, our bodies forget. Our hearts forget." A slight frown darkened elegant features, her gaze returning to his holy amber.

The pulse stood out against her creamy throat, and she felt each sweet rush of blood as if it were the last. "You are only one," Her voice was husky, cracked and craven, "How can you hope to win against our world?" She wanted his touch, wanted his assurance. Something inside her was broken, and he knew how to fix it.

Gabriel de le Poer · 12-23-2010, 11:46 AM

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He had almost forgotten the taste of fear. Haku had taken that away from him, stripped him of any cowardice. Gabriel feared no living beast, but he feared those things he had been running from for years. Yellow eyes and crooked teeth. Wolves who had fulfilled his mother’s prophecy and sought to destroy his bloodline. There would always be those who would seek such a thing, for there was glory in it. The wolf who had cut his face open the first time had taught him that. Both creatures had let pride consume them—Gabriel alone had lived.

The woman’s touch was soft against him, calming, yet she spoke of the endless battle he faced. Gabriel’s eyes sharpened and filled with pent-up violence. Within him there too was a beast, one that sought to end all other monsters and become king. “If I don’t believe, no one will,” he said lowly, ferociously. The holy signs around his neck rose and fell with each breath, and though he no longer felt their weight, Gabriel knew their meanings.

She was a victim of such terrible things, and he wished to make it clear he understood. He would never know the true horror of absolute surrender. He would never be broken in that way. Two women were enough for him to see there were things far more devious than war and violence in the world. Gabriel lifted one of his hands to hold onto her own.

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