we are bled of color.
#1
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SAMAEL: Sprawled elegantly betwixt the roots of a tree, golden creature lay silently, barely moving even to breath. Head resting against the tree's rough bark, crimson eyes stared half-lidded through the mist toward something that perhaps didn't even exist. Lost in thought, senses remained atune on his surroundings, even to the faint scurrying of a mouse in the undergrowth. But his mind was elsewhere, leaving his body a hollowed, empty corpse resting for all appearances as nothing but a fallen angel on the ground.


He was sickened by his mortal affliction, and it pained him like nothing else, consuming his senses until he could barely think of anything else. Weakening him like nothing else ever could. So he'd left, longing to gain a moment's distraction, yet everything seemed to remind him of her. Muzzle wrinkling, not even by the very thought itself, rather how it afflicted him. Lust, to love, to all consuming passion, and he needed release or else he'd break. Yet self-satisfaction was no longer enough.


A blur of motion, and a sharp, shrill squeal as a creature's life was ended. Jaws closing around furred flesh, bones snapped beneath his teeth. But his hunger was not for food, and he tossed the animal aside, peering down in disgust at the corpse now matted with blood. Claws tore through the flesh, for no other purpose than simple boredom, and he disembowled the poor creature who'd happened to chance on the coyote at the wrong moment. Licking blood from his claws, he sat up and peered through the trees, searching for something, anything that might spark his interest.




RYOUJOKU: He did not really think of them as his own children; rather, they were toys, things to play with and twist around however he pleased, if only they would amuse him. That these particularly playthings were descended from him was an interesting detail though. He couldn't toss them around and break their necks unless he wanted an entire clan to come after his throat, but all the same, no one could tell him no if he wanted to teach them wicked things or show them how cruelly exhilarating it was to ignore the half-crazy angel on their shoulders. And wasn't it hilarious that the previous litters of demonspawn seemed so horribly indignant?


The smell of blood was faint but not distant and he followed it with a mild interest. The creature he saw first was not the recently deceased though. The brother of that prettyboy from months ago, it would seem. Samael, wasn't it? The hybrid grinned as he neared, "You're bored, aren't you, darlin'?" He laughed a little to no one in particular and nodded towards the fresh carcass. It was clear that the killer had no real appetite; they appeared to be similar in that sense, perfectly willing to take a random life if only it would relieve a spot of temporary boredom. "It's more fun if you keep them alive a little longer."

SAMAEL: A distraction came in the form of a half-breed, quite familiar to Samael. It was that creature who smelled of wolf, yet courted his mother, the Inferni queen. A curious situation indeed, but it hardly perturbed the Prince, save a faint jealousy that sparked unbidden. He lifted his head, regarding the other with crimson eyes as one claw ran across his lip. Pink tongue flicking out to lick away the last traces of blood that lingered, he smirked faintly in response, otherwise saying nothing. Shifting slightly, he pushed himself into more of a sitting position from where he’d been sprawled against the tree, running a finger through the blood of the carcass as it was discussed.

”Indeed,” he replied, flicking droplets away at nothing in particular. It seemed a killer they both were, but this was nothing of a surprise to the coyote. He’d grown up around Lykois, and they were crazy, all of them; and any creature able to court his mother must have been particularly insane themselves. Smile graced his lips, but it was hardly a friendly gesture. ”Are you suggesting a cure for my boredom?” he inquired lightly, resting a hand beneath his chin.
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#2
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His mother was a whore, that was all. It was the reason he had attributed to Gabriel's self-righteous little rage, but it was the truth all the same. What other reason did she have for carrying the young of so many men and what other reason did she have for wandering off all the time? Vaguely, he thought it amusing to wonder just how many men and boys she had slept with because certainly she cared not of age. She had allowed herself to be fucked by both Ahren and himself, years her junior and younger even, than her eldest sons that no longer called Bleeding Souls their home. Ryoujoku considered it no great feat to have penetrated her body.



The demon laughed, I intend to stay alive for quite some time more so I can only hope that I can entertain you in that time. His words and his grin were seductive and suggestive, just like half the other things he said and he didn't know or care if any of it was intentional. Boredom was his own common affliction and he strove to constantly rid himself of it just as the other probably did. He sat his scarred body beside Samael, still smiling, There are other ways to relieve boredom aside from death though, baby. 'Cause he was a whore too.


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#3
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He was intrigued by this creature, boredom fading as interest piqued. There was suggestion in his voice and manner, and Samael could only wonder if his words were empty or honestly held intent behind them. He was easily entertained by blood and murder, and a claw dragged across the tip of his tongue as he imagined the hybrid’s blood flowing forth, drenching that pretty golden coat in red. He’d seated himself beside Samael, a smile still on his lips as he spoke. The corner of his muzzle wrinkled as he listened, resting his head against his hand once again as he regarded the other.

”Perhaps you’d like to show me?” he said in his quiet tone, small smile gracing the edges of his lips. He knew what he wanted, but it amused him to wonder if the hybrid would give it to him. All devils knew lust just as angels were meant to be holy and chaste. But there was no holiness in a child that wanted to fuck his own mother.
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#4
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D'ye wanna play this out or fade to black? ;3 I don't care either way.



Ryoujoku did not ever believe his own words to be empty. He was a man of his word, even if Laruku couldn't be, and besides, it was easy to give himself away freely because he always got something in return. They were an evolved speices, full of thought, wonder, and complex mental circus performances, but at their cores, they would always be the same as they had always been. Killing, feeding, and fucking would always be a part of them and the primal beast had no morals to hinder it. It didn't matter who they killed and who they devoured, and even less did it matter who they decided to lay with in the envelopes of fog where no one could see them.



The demon laughed and pushed his whore-lover's son down suddenly and roughly. What would you like to see, baby? He crawled over the other's body so that they were face-to-face once again. The boy's smile was far too small in comparison to his own; he would teach him to grin wider and then scream for more.

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#5
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He was pushed suddenly and roughly toward the ground by the demon, crawling over him until their gazes met again. “Something interesting,” he said, as his expression twisted into something like a smile. So his words weren’t empty after all and his suggestive manner just an act. His hand slid across the other’s back, dragging his claws across his spine hard enough to leave marks. “What’ve you got?” he asked quietly, running his tongue across the tip of one fang. He wondered what it would be like to fuck his mother’s lover. Would he taste like her? He hoped so.

..and, fade to black!
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