coil
#1
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Private for Bane. Set in Ethereal Eclipse.


     The act she had put on for Tayui was washed off immediately when she left the peculiar clan. While Aurèle was truly happy that her sister had a litter of scamps to herself, she was gladder that it would serve as an anchor. And it had proved so for the past several weeks. She had not gone back to the lighthouse and she would not. Something felt wrong about that. Instinct warned her that it would be best not to approach the devil’s house, and so she did not.
     The rain had stopped for the time being, but the air was thick with water and the faintest traces of fog were beginning to show through the forest. Aurèle, two legged, was seated under a rocky overhang. Her hair had long since fallen out and she let it fall around her face, halfway down her torso. She was watching the forest for no reason outside of that she wished to. It helped distract her from the terrible things she could not face when she slept.


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#2
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cakeThe fever burned in his eyes, a fire he rarely felt anymore, except when he forgot to keep it in check. There was a latent fear in him of it, of forgetting, yet when it happened he always found it to be welcome. A walking contradiction, maybe, but wasn't life itself the same way? Despite this, the black wolf walked with a purposeful stride, his self-control in check as it always was; if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was that. There was a long gash in his side, a gift given to him by an angry moose, but he didn't notice it, now. For three days he had been away from home. For three days he had watched it heal from a place outside of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought clearly.

cakeThat day, Bane was well enough (or maybe just high enough) to go home. And so that was what he was doing, his thoughts on the city ahead, his walk faster than normal without him noticing it. The forest was strangely quiet, thick even in the winter, and he could still smell the must and dirt; maybe he was imagining it? Through the smell of the woods, he caught something else, something that made him stop abruptly, so abruptly that to a stranger his heart may well have ceased beating in mid-stride. This scent was something he had registered and put away for future reference, because it was important...

cakeHe walked, slower now, following her scent, which was so strong to him she might as well have left a blood trail. His eyes, which were afflicted with that darkness that normally hid so well behind his self-medicated mask, were sharp as he looked for a glimpse of her against the snow. She appeared to him then, white like an angel hiding her wings, or maybe an angel without. He smiled as if he were pleased. He was pleased, this was undeniable. The rocks above her cast an odd shadow, as if trying to hide her from him. "Miss Aurèle," he said to her, and it said it softly, uncharacteristically so, "why do I find you alone again? Surely there are many who would vie for your company." There was no sarcasm in his voice, but that undefinable thing lurked still in his eyes. He kept his distance, knowing what would happen was unavoidable. He had also known, all along, he would find her again; it had been fated.



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#3
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     She could remember a few things. The sound of snow in the north, where it had fallen for days upon days. She remembered her family, and she remembered what they had once been. She remembered the others, but there were so many that she must have forgotten. She remembered the fire. That terrible day had set in motion a force that had found itself nearly unstoppable. If it took her until the end of days, she was going to find that—
     A peculiar and oddly familiar scent tore her from her thoughts. Aurèle sat up, and her eyes trailed the source. He looked content, but through this she saw something else—indeed, something she could not touch. Not yet. But she recognized it. “I doubt that,” she said rather flatly. “Aside from you, I’ve run into nothing but mouthy children.” She paused, studying his face and his eyes with an intensity that was reflected in her face. “Something is different with you, chum.” Unwittingly, she slipped into her childhood slang.


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#4
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cakeThe lady's voice revealed nothing to him, except her preoccupation. During the course of his life Bane had learned to expect nothing, and he subsequently didn't think much of it. Vaguely, the gash on his side, clean of dried blood, ached dully, but in some other dimension in his mind, a place he couldn't really touch. His face revealed curiosity at her scrutiny, and he tilted his head slightly, feet rooted to the ground. He wouldn't move any closer, not now. Above him, the skies were strange, the trees whispering to the air around him, and he felt out of place. It wasn't a bad feeling. The instinct was awake; he enjoyed its energy, felt it coursing through him. Such a pleasant discovery. He had been so quiet since Fate had brought him the blackbird with the white eyes. So hidden. He felt awake, now.

cakeBefore he responded -- words were a waste of time, he told himself, but patience was a virtue, particularly when you knew what you wanted -- the white lady continued. Her words made him smile, teeth bared, eyes bright with the fever that still burned in his eyes and his blood. "I wouldn't say different," he told her, and it was true enough. Perhaps the only thing different was that he was more real. Or maybe not; sometimes the black wolf found it easy to forget what these things meant. He understood there were things he wasn't meant to understand. "I'm rather always the same, ma'am, sometimes simply just easier to see. What about you? Why so serious?" He added the last part quietly, almost in a whisper, head still tilted as he watched her. There were things he wanted to know, and these questions glittered behind his eyes, cloaked in that darkness he held within.



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#5
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     It was hunger, she realized suddenly. She should have known it if not for the fact that his was not her kind; she hungered for one particular thing now, something that she was very close to losing. The longer she stayed her, the more aware of the situation she became. It was foolish to do so. Aurèle had forgotten she was no longer immortal.
     She laughed, suddenly, a rolling thing that might have been a raven at dusk or a prowling cat high on some rooftop. It was nearly mocking, as if the situation was far too absurd to believe. Her eyes focused on him, narrowed slightly, and she smiled. This was the smile of a hunting cat, the smile of understanding without knowing and of dare. “Has Alice found you yet, cat? The way you talk I expect you’ll lose one,” she began to gesture like a conductor. “, appendage after another.” Where had she heard that story from? Did it even matter now?
     Then, aware he would not understand her, she switched to French. “[The lighthouse is now a slaughterhouse,]” Aurèle stated. He was the first person she had told. She did not know why she had done that, exactly, but knew if she did not the guilt would destroy her slowly.


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#6
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cakeWhen she spoke he understood the odd words in a way that made him recall the latter days of his childhood; memories came to him that were vague and slow, buried beneath the layers that life had built for him, beneath everything he knew now and everything else he had forgotten. It felt disconnected but yet it made sense. He watched her with burning eyes as she moved, and he smiled in a strange way, watching her as their surroundings fell away, a blur in his peripheral vision. He had no interest in anything else, just her, the voice and the way her lips moved as she spoke. Something in her piqued some sort of interest in him, something he didn't quite understand, something he likely wasn't meant to. Bane accepted these things, because they were written, and he was a mere mortal, subject to the whims of the Book, of Fate and her master.

cakeWhen she spoke again, it was in French. The dark wolf recognized the language but understood none of it. He spoke English and the language he had learned when he had been serving the King. Slowly, carefully, the broad-shouldered wolf took a step forward, then stopped abruptly, as if a wall were in his way, blocking his path to her. The smile was gone and his eyes were piercing in their feverish hue, as intense and questioning as they ever had been. Sober or not, he was the same as ever, this was simply something that came and went when he needed it most, and he did then, while the wound on his side healed, while he sorted everything out that he had so far learned of his destiny. He was the same, she was different. Realizing this, he spoke: "Tell me why you hide your words." His voice was pressing but yet still calm, despite it all. There was a certain edge to it, and something reminded him that if he had been younger, perhaps he wouldn't even have wasted time here with words.



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#7
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     There it was again. That peculiar thing in his body language, in his eyes. She focused her attention on it, eyes darkening as if they drew the color from that odd feeling, shade abruptly leaving its near-neon glamour. The pale woman was not ignorant to desire, and not ignorant to need. Something wicked was in the blue-eyed boy, but it did not frighten her.
     Not much frightened her anymore. “It doesn’t matter,” she assured him, thick voice a mellow purr. “Tell me what fuels you, my boy.” There was something, that much she knew. Drug, drink, or those more terrible desires that had driven lesser men mad.



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#8
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cakeThe dark wolf thrived on instinct; he, perhaps more than other wolves, was largely controlled by those things which had kept them alive as animals before they had changed. He fought his nature because it was what he had been taught to do. In the woman he could sense no fear and this fed something inside him, the part of him that existed to conquer, to dominate; challenges were more than just entertainment to him, they were a reason to keep breathing. He knew this was meant; it had been written, he was merely here to find out how it would unfold.

cake"I will tell you, Miss Aurèle,” he replied, blue eyes flashing as he watched her, "I will tell you that and anything you want to know, but knowledge comes with a price.” As he said this, he continued to smile that strange smile. Still he hadn’t moved. "Or I will not answer your question and will instead leave. Tell me what you want.”



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#9
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     Where her sister thrived on the knowledge of what had been, Aurèle survived on what she could feel. It was instinct and it was impulse, and it had served her four years strong. Maybe she had begun to go mad. Maybe she did not trust her own thoughts anymore. Regardless, she understood what she needed and what she wanted, and was smart enough to recognize the difference between them.
     She smiled and her eyes were on fire. “All things come with a price,” she reassured him, and rose to her feet. “Tell me everything,” she continued, an unspoken challenge in her tone.




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#10
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cakeShe stood as she spoke, and Bane felt something there, in the pit of his stomach, in the back of his mind. It was more than the instinct, it was more than mere lust; looking at her was almost the equivalent of looking in a mirror, and tht strange moment of lucidity only drove him further into the depths of whatever he was sinking into. Bane didn't pretend to understand things he knew he wasn't meant to. It was written, and he was no prophet. Instead, he smiled (still) and his eyes burned ice-cold when he replied.

cake"I can see," he told her, and he put emphasis on the final word without realising he was doing so. And then he was speaking quickly, as if the words were all struggling to escape him at once, as if these things had been on his mind for altogether too long. "I can see the world, Miss Aurèle, I've been told things that were never meant for mortal ears, things that drive men mad, things that exist in depths so far and so terrible that I cannot begin to fathom them, no matter how I try, no matter how long I lie awake," and he knew he had been chosen but why, why he didn't yet know. "I'm going to live forever." That strange smile there still, Bane spoke with the conviction of a man who wasn't looking for confirmation. This was something he knew. He moved forward towards her, gaze glued to her face. "Your eyes are beautiful." So had the blackbird. So had Liz. Eyes had always captured him.



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#11
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     Perhaps she had always been fascinated by those terrible depths. There had never been a point in her life that was safe, predictable. Aurèle had fallen from grace years ago, as Icarus with his wax wings. The sun would destroy them both before the end of this. She had no doubt they would burn alive, screaming, and revel in it.
     She heard his words, and she continued to smile. She was moving, perhaps not entirely of her own will.
“Are you so absolutely certain that nothing will ever happen to you? That there are no consequences?”
Aurèle had believed that once. She still clung to that knowledge, desperate, knowing that it was futile.
     One hand reached for his face, seeking to close the physical distance between them.



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#12
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cakeA non-believer. Bane rarely met those who saw eye-to-eye with him, who saw the world the way he did, and he was fine with that. He was one of the few who would make it to the other side and be honoured, one of the few who had been chosen. His vision swam a little but it didn't frighten him; he was staring so intently at her it was unlikely he would have noticed anything else. He wanted to show her what he saw, he wanted to take her there with him; the forest had faded and her touch was soft, and it was somehow feminine despite the ivory lady's battle-worn exterior. This was appealing to him, and it pleased him, and he surpressed a growl he felt building in the back of his throat. He wanted to take her, he wanted to hurt her. It didn't matter what she wanted.

cakeBane moved forward, wrapping his fingers around the wrist that hovered near his face. His other hand took her waist, holding perhaps a bit more tightly than was necessary. He liked seeing the delicate skin under a woman's fur shadowed with purple bruises, he liked feeling those tremors of pain that shot through the body as he did what he would. "I have the answers," was his simple reply, vague, absent-minded. He was no longer looking at her face; his eyes were on her neck, the way it curved and became her shoulder, the fur there and how badly he would have liked to touch it. "I know the way." This part he whispered, nose buried in her fur now, pulling her closer in the process. "Let me show you."



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#13
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     The world would end in blood and fire. Aurèle had seen both, survived, but could not fully consider herself among the living. She had no purpose. She sought to numb her body through the apathy and the cold reasoning that had kept her alive. It was not enough to let her ignore the pressure around her wrist, or her waist. Her eyes sharpened so suddenly and so viciously it was as if a bomb had gone off. Still, she remained placid—she knew this game all too well.
     Her other hand moved, found its way to his back, between those broad shoulders. She pressed her body into his, and reveled in the feel of his heat against her own. “Show me the future,” she whispered, voice a husky growl. “, and I’ll show you a world on fire.” With that vague warning, she hooked her claws into his back. This was a game. This was two animals fighting for dominance, for control. This was nothing. This was everything.




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#14
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cake wanna fade to black or play it out? :o


cakeShe touched him, moved forward towards him. Her fur was thick but not enough so he couldn't feel the feminine curves of her body against the sharp angles of his own. Not enough that he didn't notice the way her breasts were suddenly pressed against his chest. There was no resistance. There were no words that really meant anything. It was funny, really, these things she said that barely registered in his currently drug-addled brain; it was the air, the ambience of the situation, that the dark male understood more than words. This was what was typical of him, of his true nature. Savage, brutal, uncivilized, and unapologetic. She spoke of the future and he understood that they were already living it, moving through time even then as they held each other in that strange fervid embrace. He would show her the future, and he could already taste this fire on his tongue.

cakeHer claws in his back (more blood) made the dark wolf flinch, but more out of surprise than pain; the ice in his veins, the dragon in his mind, numbed the world to him, and he felt nothing but desire, the deadly sin he would wish he had repented for at the gates of Hell where he had once believed he would end up. A low growl echoed in the back of his throat as he reacted with a stronger grip (perhaps it would bruise her) and a shove -- far from gentle -- intending to push her onto the forest floor. With the fever burning bright there in his blue eyes, morality and tradition forgotten in the wake of this thing that he allowed to swallow him alive, Bane permitted himself to surrender, even if just for the moment.



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#15
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Fade to black is fine with me. I imagine that they would be pretty rough with one another, so you can breeze over that with your next post? After that I'll archive this. Then we must have a follow-up sometime soon.

     Aurèle knew that desire was the call of all living beings. She had known this when she had seen him first, and recognized they were so similar. These were things she had learned as a child. His voice still came to her at night, and she imagined his touch even now. This was why she sought the devils of vice, and turned to strangers—strangers who could take her away from everything except the then and now, if only for the time they were together. Half an hour. An hour. More. Less. It didn’t matter. She believed in blood, and in fire, and in absolution.
     His grip did not surprise her and she let out a gasp, and then swallowed the air as they reached the soft earth beneath. She twisted her body, sought his, and allowed him to pin her against the ground. For the time, at least, she would feel nothing but this moment. She smiled, even though her eyes were cold.





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