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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 4, 2009 4:24:48 GMT
For Your Consideration.to run away the only answerPawns: Crystal Dinaia & Fedafyr .pulling me awayStatus: Complete .to fall upon the nightCurrent Count: 14,924 words .the source of my recovery
.sweet shadow taking hold of the lightClothing: Click The sounds in the swirling mist reminded her of children. In another world, would she have been the champion of the good little children? Would she have built a city of mist to hold, protect, and deliver them all from evil? Perhaps… Perhaps.
Crystal’s questions floated on the wind as she entered the Dream World, finding herself in the Second Square, the home of Somnium Academy, part deux. She extended both arms when she found herself positioned on a low-lying half wall, holding her balance delicately. Of course, this was a normal feat that anyone could have easily achieved in the real world with a little balance. For some reason here in this familiar yet set apart world, it seemed fanciful and made her feel playful, like a child. Could she really hear their voices whispering in the light fog? She listened closely, closing her sapphire eyes as she drowned out the rest of the world, hoping to catch a confirmation that these voices didn’t simply exist in her mind while her eyes were closed. Alas and a lack, she couldn’t decide if the waxing and waning murmurs were real. Had Crystal ever even seen a child here?
Crystal slipped off the low wall, one foot resting against the ground gently, as if it was molding with the cobblestone bricks beneath it. The second met the first, the couple now whole and she walked forward, as if in a dream. The girl laughed at the thought, walking dreamily in a world meant for dreamers. It amused her but everything seemed to evoke that feeling of giddy amusement tonight. She felt as if she had eaten too much candy at a carnival, anxious and sick, hyperactive and gleeful, and just a tad worried that she might have overdone it. For a moment, she sniffed the air and thought she might have caught the hint of spun sugar candy coating the mist that rolled through the empty schoolyard. It enticed her.
She was not an intimidating figure for most to come across. Her figure was slight, almost frail, hidden within the many folds of her white robe. The garment was her security blanket, formed of a soft but insanely thick fabric. It seemed to have a shape of its own, forming stiff peaks along her shoulders and spreading around her feet to cover her entirely. It drug along the ground behind her, scraping slightly against the stones she walked upon, a stiff scratching noise following both it and her. The hood of the thick robe concealed her face entirely, leaving one to wonder what precisely resided in the dark shadows of the inner confines of it.
Beneath the robe existed a tall, slim woman with a copper infused sheet of red hair and jewel like eyes. Much like her real form aside from the lack of most color in her skin, Crystal was easily recognizable as herself. She often wondered why her dream form provided her with a robe to hide herself so easily, pondering the fact that she was hidden and yet not while in this world. Did it mean that she didn’t trust it fully? Would her robe disappear if she gained a full understanding and desire to adventure in the world? Crystal shook at the very thought, gathering her robe around her, clinging to it as it clung to her body. She preferred the anonymity of her heavy drapery, thank you very much.
Out of the mist, a piece of chalk rolled toward her, hitting the toe of her white ballet shoe. That was another thing that confused Crystal about her dream form - why the constant change in shoes? She sometimes found herself wearing tan pumps, black leather boots, red alligator skin heels, and other random shoes she had never owned. Was her dream form tuned into the footwear fetishes of an Italian supermodel? The girl found herself humming as she bent down to pick up the piece of chalk, rolling it in between her fingers, her long nails scraping bits off of the whole piece as she did. Did someone wish to play?
Crystal bent down and drew a two foot square. Leaving long elegant lines on the cobblestone brings, she drew another set of boxes on top of it, the same size, next to one another in an upside pyramidal form. She continued until she had formed a set of boxes in a classic hopscotch form. She lifted her robe, revealing long slender legs to the mist and bowed low, as if she was greeting a dancing partner. Crystal hopped into the first box, and began to chant in a voice that was nothing if not haunting.
My mother said
I shouldn’t play
With the gypsies
In the woods.
If I did
She would say
Naughty girl to disobey.
Hopping from square to square, Crystal felt a sense of freedom and mirth that she hadn’t experienced for quite sometime. For a while, she believed that the Dream World might possibly be nothing more than a dream, sometimes pleasant, sometimes a nightmare. The sensation of air and mist passing beneath her feet made her feel as if she was floating inches off of the ground though she knew she wasn’t. Flying wasn’t one of her special talents. Actually, Crystal wondered if there was anything particularly special about her at all.
When she had finished the rhyme and made her way back to the first square yet again, she smiled into the nothingness before her and asked, “Oh? Another game? Well, let me think of a song.” She dropped the folds of her garment, feeling them clutter to the ground and pool around her. Crystal’s elbow bent beneath the folds of the cloak as she placed the cuff against the bottom of head covering. A comical image of a cloak thinking, she announced, “Ahh! I have one.” People would think she was mad as a hatter if they heard her, but alas, she was simply playing in her own little world. If other people barged into it, they deserved to think strange things. She readied herself to jump again, gathering the skirts of her cloak.
One I love, Two I love,
Three I love I say;
Four I love with all my heart,
Five I cast away.
Six he loves, Seven she loves,
Eight both love;
Nine he comes, Ten he tarries,
Eleven he courts, Twelve he marries
Crystal felt the air bursting from her lips, perhaps from the force of both chanting and hopping. She wasn’t a young girl by any means and even at eighteen, she wasn’t her six year old self. The hood of the cloak bounced off but she didn’t notice until she had happily bounded back to the first square and had escaped her personal playground. Long, perfectly straight red hair bounced along her back, individual pieces sticking to her forehead with sweat. Her eyes gleamed excitedly, proudly as she reached the end and threw back both arms in a declaration of triumph. As she turned to the mist to make her exiting bows, her long hair whipped around her in a brilliant tornado of color in stark contrast against her ivory skin and robe as well as her pink flushed cheeks and lips. She laughed joyously, a sound that echoed off the heavens themselves. Wait, did the Dream World have heavens? She had never thought to ask in all of her years here. Only then, after lowering her arms to her sides, did she realize her hood had slipped off and for a second, her blood froze. Crystal felt exposed, unsafe, and paranoid as she looked around only to find no one materialize in the place of her imaginary playmate. Breathing a sigh of relief, she instinctively reached for her cloak’s hood, but hesitated for a while, basking in the fog-like mist that surrounded the hollow school. |
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 4, 2009 7:29:07 GMT
Fedafyr's body lay prone against the stone and stared skyward. The school was empty tonight, his preferred hunting ground silent like a ghost. Hours had passed, and those lazy gold eyes searched the misted clouds as they swung low, bringing with them the grand scent of water and nature, soothing him in some age-old way as he breathed in. Days like these, calm, lay the swirling turbulence in his mind as if it could rest. Surrounded by a love that eminated within his chest, the mixed blood soothing his conscious thought. His bare chest gathered dew like morning grass. His robe and haori folded and settled beneath his head, his kimono set to the side, discarded with a disregard for its silken layers. The slide of his smooth, flat stomache descended into the heavy cloth of the hakama. His hips were bare, telltale of his lack of regard for underclothes, the black unsettlingly clean.
His tail swung itself to the side, brushing his hip with the soft fur tip as he caressed himself. Fedafyr slid a single claw down the center of his chest, a familiar sensation of the first layers of his skin cracking, leaving the white trails that quickly dispersed on his porcelain skin. His lids lay closed against his cheeks, the a breath of charcoal against the white cheeks. He lay there, silent, like a part of scenery. In the deep set of the dark shadows, he melded with the cement, the tendrils of his black hair caressing his chest and the cold concrete. Unmodeled and still, Fedafyr was seemingly without breath as he stood in his own world. Inside him, the soft consciousness of his previous lover touched the pit of his stomache and spread, sending sensations of heat and a breath of relief through those straight white teeth--porcelain lips pursed, kissing the air before his tongue slipped out, tasting the mist in the air and breathing in the soft smell of what might be called morning.
The stomache cooled at the first hint of vanilla, the scent permeating the misted air like a cream laid far too heavy over something bland. His lashes opened over the gold orbs, swirling hunger behind the coveted mineral... His breath escaped him in a sigh followed by a smile that could only be called viscious in its nature, breaking the porcelain serenity of his face as he slowly dropped his hand to the cement beneath him. Claws marred the soft rock as they gripped, the screeching of the crushed glue giving way ringing in his ears. His body moved slowly, gracefully, as if bringing his knees up to his nose had happened in a second of time but slowed by some unnatural force. Each movement seemed as if unstrained, a moving picture to observe, and his body coiled, his soft tail touching his thighs as the hakama fell to the weight of gravity, revealing the toned legs beneath as it bunched around his pelvis. His lithe arms tensed as they moved up above his head, the soft curves of his muscles suddenly apparent in the soft apendages as his head tilted back. Charcoal hair slid across his cheeks, escaping away from the white of his skin as it pooled above the pillow of his clothing beneath his head as if drawn into a whirlpool. Haunting eyes stared across the cement of the rooftop toward the new scratching sounds of ... chalk on pavement. Slender fingers pressed gently into the cement, somehow flawlessly creeping beneath the pool of black hair, not catching a single strand. Then, with a breath that shook the mist around him, it was like the world sped up. His body arched into the air, swinging through it and clutching the ground with his bare feet. His body accordianed forward, knees bending, chest pulling forward, hair swinging forward into his face and covering it with long tendrils. When he stood, the hair settled, fell in front of his shoulders, framing that boyish face and the sneer had disappeared into a soft, emotionless painted innocence again.
The soft, haunting rush of air followed him as he pivoted, the very air seeming to slip away from him in fear where it had once caressed him so lovingly. Fedafyr's feet gripped the cement, and the steps seemed to leave behind a shadow, burning into the smoothed surface before they disappeared. The world panned out as he approached the edge of the building, the wind picking up his hair and tossing it around his bare upper body. The wind blew the trees, parting the leaves just perfectly to reveal her, a white figure, bent over the pavement, standing just now to her full height, greater than his own. Observant, he moved not an inch. His body seemed ever so statuesque as his hair swirled in the rising winds. Her foot came into view, the soft scent of skin attacking his nostrils with its coquettish breath.
His fingers slipped to the surface he stood upon, the very minerals that built this shadow tower of iron and concrete softened, swallowing his folded clothing and delivering them to his hands. The wind shot sharply, lifting the discarded kimono as a white sheet into the air, drifting to him as he stood and lifted his free left hand and slid it through the sleeve. He struck the next arm through the other sleeve calmly as he released the heavy coat and vest to his now-donned hand, but the effort made to grasp them soon seemed moot as he discarded the idea of fully dressing. The cloth turned to thread and then to nothing as it slipped from his fingers. The lightless sparkle following its disappearance into the folds of the reality that sat heavy around them. Impatience licked at the corners of his mouth, drawing just the cheeks a little higher, lighting the golden eyes just a little more in the misty darkness.
My mother said
I shouldn’t play
With the gypsies
In the woods.
Fedafyr listened to the haunting voice as it rung its childish ghost tones through his pointed ears. The soft music gave him pause, the wind around him cooling and softening while the wind still swished the trees to the side for his view. He stalked the top of the building, changing angles so the leaves obscured naught of the prey he was staring at. His mind uttered of preparations. His eyes sought the knowledge of this creature, like so many before, who would fall amidst blood and torn skin to his touch. She spoke to the air, as if some imaginary being played with her, and he searched but found no one to fill the void she seemed to have occupied with her creativity..
One I love, Two I love,
Three I love I say;
Four I love with all my heart...
The strain of the song drew his features dark. A whisper of thunder rolled through his chest in a soft growl. Each vowel drained him, attacking the pit of his stomache in much the same way the cursed rage boiled. But there was something draining about this emotion--something sad that didn't sit well with him. In the chiming ring, an emotion triggered in his darkened mind, accessing a piece that didn't exist, curving his ears downward, whisking his tail to and fro in the murky waters of his lost life. Both bloods wept, but the body did nothing, merely dug his claws into his palm, draining from them the liquid that lamented but soon easing its grip.
Five I cast away.
The palms healed almost instantly, self-inflicted wounds but a memory as his very form disappeared after tensing to move. Leaves sprung and twisted from the trees, his fingers grasped the trunk while his head turned downward. Too close. His body poised there knelt upon the branch as if he were part of the tree, shadows streaking his face and accenting the glow of his yellow eyes. Silent, he observed her as the wind caught and removed the cloak from her, swishing her auburn hair across her face. Her blue eyes, downcast as her dainty legs moved her across the squares, sparkled of their own volition at the radiant smile of accomplishment, and through all the childish vestige, he caught a hint of wisdom lost in the back of her mind, a need to nurture and protect. A tiny red-headed child with an abundance of curls slipped through his mind, imagined clinging to her skirts, and a soft look overtook him for only the briefest of seconds. Not bereft, but soft.
Six he loves, Seven she loves,
Eight both love;
Nine he comes, Ten he tarries,
Eleven he courts, Twelve he marries
His eyes flashed and he tensed again. Leaves disturbed again as he flashed to the hallway shadows. Wind blew his hair about and pulled his kimono low on one shoulder. Loose and open, it looked like an oversized white jacket, giving him the impression of youth--an impression his soft features accented as he stared forward. He waited for her to pull her hood up... seconds turned to minutes, and his feet scratched the ground, creating an echoing sound that the wind carried across her, unlike every other sound which had been cautiously carried around and away. Footsteps that seemed to be coming from far away, his tail swayed, bushed, his eyes became soft and shy, his lips pursed, puffing his cheeks slightly. Every bit of his body transformed as his fingers, the claws almost unnoticeable now, clutched one arm, crossed across his chest, rubbing nervously. Every bit of his aura seemed to change now, boyish, charming, young... and lost.
Thirteen she gives, Fourteen he takes...
Fifteen she screams, Sixteen he breaks.
He stepped from his shadow, the sound of his footsteps implying he had walked from much further back than he actually had, staring around and seeming not to notice her until just now. His short frame tucked shyly away from her behind the railing and support beam to the overhang of the hallway, as if he might disappear away..
Trap Set.
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 5, 2009 6:06:41 GMT
Footsteps echoed around her, faint at first and she assumed they were as frail as the phantom whispers that had first invaded her mind. The vapor that swirled around her thickened suddenly as she opened her eyes and for a moment, she panicked in the mist, the sweet taste of fear welling up in her throat. As she opened her mouth to gasp, the air around her cleared significantly and the taste of water droplets on her tongue were cool and refreshing, a pleasant reminder of reality within a surreal world. Tiny droplets formed like dew on her eyelids and coated her face in a moist shine, as if she had just walked through a parking lot after the rain had finished falling. Crystal’s mind was reeling all of a sudden, perhaps from the hopping around, perhaps from the fog that reminded her of the time she had hyperventilated during a practice for a theatre production, falling victim to the fog machine quite easily.
The footsteps… The footsteps, Crystal. Her mind nudged her slightly and her eyes opened, her upward face dropped to look forward. The sound of a person moving, the delicate press of heel to toe to concrete unnerved her. Her hands wrestled ungracefully for her hood, yanking it up over her face, but neglecting the long hair that had fallen flat against her face. Long tresses blinded her as a shroud of copper colored hair descended over her eyes. Crystal, who always held herself accountable for her actions, preferred to perform her actions demurely, with a certain measure of self-esteem in every movement. Not cockily of course, just femininely, with a certain flourish all her own. Most viewed her as vain when they encountered her decisive actions, but she found herself to be more particular than proud and continued on along her own path despite the views of others. Crystal Dinaia was a girl who treated herself with respect and careful planning down to the last moment, except for now. Except for here. Fear filled her nostrils, her heartbeat echoing in her chest in time with the slowly approaching footsteps. Why couldn’t she move?
Her hands ripped her cloak away feverishly, the pearl like buttons that held the top closed popping away one by one. She couldn’t understand the madness that had come over her now, but while breathing heavily she pushed the hood away from her face, the cloak slipping down to show her bare shoulders. Crystal’s hand raked her hair away from her face, taming the red tornado as she did. It fell behind her ears naturally, the ends flowing over the muddled mess of the garment that now hung off of her sneakily, tangled around one another as if they were confiding with one another, giggling at the trick that they had played on her. Buttons rolled on the ground in front of her and the fog seemed to dissipate entirely but had she looked up, she would have seen that it simply had lifted itself into the air three foot above her head. The ominous fog was thick above her, lingering as if to say it could catch her in the middle of Cat’s Cradle at anytime.
All at once, the panic that had ravaged her body lifted. She sighed thankfully, a sound escaping from between her rose colored lips that sounded like a thankful moan, a whimper of relief. Though the night was overcast, it seemed that somehow the world around her was still lit, if only in her tiny courtyard playground. The light was like that of the moon, white and glistening as she sunk to her knees, the cloak piling around her. Her long, thin fingers reached for the pearl like buttons scattered along the cobblestones, stuck in cracks and rolling along merrily. Crystal’s fingernails, pink as seashells with a white trim, scrape along the stone, bringing a wince of pain to her pretty face.
The scattered pearls gleamed white, with a hint of pink and gold as she gathered them in one hand. For a moment, staring into the pearl-like, round buttons she caught the reflection of something, a dream within a dream. A woman sat in lush grass while crickets and other summer insects chirped around her. Pages torn from old paper danced in the wind around her, landing in glasslike water. Some sunk while some rose to the top, picking and choosing which of the woman’s lucky memories would continue on into the future. Ink blurred in the water, washing away all but the faintest glimpse of the words, “I love you so.. But how I hate not knowing whose arms you sleep in now. I love you James but God, how I hate you.” Crystal blinked back tears at the harsh words, knowing that they had not intended to cut the water as they did, knowing that they had not intended to pollute it so with their sense of urgency and despair. Had that woman wanted to forget? Had she wanted to forgive? The sound of footsteps startled her and her hand shook, releasing the buttons she had been staring into. They were flung violently to the ground now, even though she had slowly doubled over until her nose was only inches from the stone beneath her.
Crystal straightened up again into her original kneeling position, her body rested against bent knees as she settled down into a post often used by yoga. The wait was agonizing until the patter of feet stopped and the entity drew itself into silence. Perhaps she had simply been imaging them all long, much as she had imagined the voices, much as she had created the hopscotch game with an invisible playmate. Her eyes were still focused on the bead-like buttons separated from her cloak, staring at them with her lips slightly parted. This world, simply wasn’t for her. Too much could change too fast, abandoning the laws of what the world had always been constructed of. She could be thrust into the dreams of others, the memories of another’s past without her consent ever being given. Perhaps she had asked for that glimpse by simply gazing at the buttons too hard, maybe she had created it. Did she even have the power to create her own destiny let alone a story of someone else in her head?
The redheaded girl looked up from the pearls dashed upon the ground finally, her eyes cutting to the side drowsily. The look in the center of her pupils was blank for a moment as she held out both hands in a helpless, questioning gesture toward what she thought at first was nothingness again. Then, she saw him. Her blood solidified in her veins, stopping her heart in its very track. Then, the pounding in her ears grew fierce as it boiled to life again, rushing through every part of her body with abandon. It was as if her senses had dulled only to kick into overdrive, making her slightly woozy.
Unable to make even the softest sound, nothing but air passing between her slightly parted lips, still wet with the mist that had fallen upon them. She sat there, profile to the figure that was haphazardly hiding from her. Crystal thought for a moment she was playing a coy game in which she could hide out in the opening, appearing as a slowly moving statue and he would not advance, would not recognize her. She feared being seen in the Dream World, feared the implications of the different sides of her friends and classmates she might meet. She hadn’t met many of them thus far, often staying hidden, trying not to judge the actions and words of the ones she had actually identified. The others, she chose to ask no questions of, holding her tongue and subduing her curiosity. Until now. Impulse control seemed impossible at this point,
The woman breathed in and out heavily for a few more breaths, her chest heaving beneath the cloak before she realized he meant no harm. Her eyes adjusted to his figure, examined what she could see of him, and her imagination filled in the rest. For the moment, he was a being made of delicate shadows and shining eyes. He was something lonely, something sweet and caring, she simply got the feeling by looking at him and Crystal’s gut feelings were rarely wrong. A contented sigh and a soft laugh finally found their way out of her mouth, bubbling up from the very depths of her as she regained her feeling of safety, her personal horror movie cut short when the film caught fire under the projector.
“You needn’t be afraid.” Crystal’s voice seemed too loud when she first spoke, so she dropped her voice slightly as she continued through the statement. She rose from her seated position, the layers of the cloak dripping away from her slender shoulders, as if her form had simply risen from the ground beneath the pile of fabric. She stood, her long legs shining white in the nighttime light. Beneath the white cover, she realized, she had been wearing different clothing in addition to her choices in shoes.
Tonight though, she felt as if the dreams had not prepared her for the elements but had instead dredged up a design from her innermost desires. A periwinkle colored dress with a ribbon wrapped bodice had draped itself along the curves of her body, ending right before her knees began in a short style that still had the potential to be modest. The skirt was formed of a type of chiffon netting, firm but soft, it pushed the skirt out from her body slightly, forming a delicate bell shape from the top half of her body to her knees. No straps held the creation to her body and it seemed as if it stuck to her from the very magic developed from stardust and bedtime stories, with a corseted back to hold it all together. The ends of the ribbon threaded through widened after they passed through the loops, forming a wide bow at the small of her back whose ends puddled at her feet and would trail behind her when she walked.
This certainly could not be a nightmare if God had provided her such a dream thus far. Crystal’s dreams tended to have a shifting combinations of moods and happenings, but never had her instincts been this revved up before, transforming from abrupt fear to complete calm. Perhaps this was a communication from the Dream World informing her to skip the warm cup of hot chocolate before bed next time because it would only give her a stomach ache as she slept.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 5, 2009 23:18:49 GMT
Black as night, the strands fell around his face, caressing the slender shoulders as they lay just a slight bit slanted. His breath stuck in his throat in anticipation, a soft hiccup of nerves as he played the game he had set out to play. Like a screenplay, she had shifted through the world, a porcelain doll far too intricately designed to not be snatched from her resting place upon the shelf. She smelled like ice cream--like a treat he could ravenously devour but would give him a headache if he forced too much, too quickly. She stared into buttons on the ground, scattered 'round her in a pool, searching them for some meaning of life inside them. What she saw, a dream, a misfortune of splashes and thoughts of an illusion of beauty. In her eyes, images reflected of dreams broken, tears welling up in them to free the tightening cord around her weak heart.
An image of a ghost, cloaked in white, blazing red hair falling in waves around her. He thought she'd look good in merely a slip of white, tattered at the edges, spread across blood red sheets with those white legs spread out across it, blue eyes staring at him with some vision of indignation that he would inevitably crush into the winds. His fingers twitched with some need to reach, to caress her throat, dig through the flesh and feel the soft muscles give under the pressure. The blood that would spill over his hand would probably smell of cinnamon, fire and sweets mixed in the creature beyond him. The feeling of hunger was kept deep in the pit of his stomache, unable to reach up to his soft eyes, the pupil large and holding the light in, innocent and true and a lovely shade of petrified amber.
The tail swished behind him nervously, adding to the coy image of the young and lost. His fingers released the bar that they grasped to push just a few strands of hair from his face, his body pressed forward just a centimeter, cold drain pipe pressing to his bared chest. Half of his face perfectly cut in half from the angle she stared from, his soft fingers slithering up to caress the support, holding it like a security blanket as he stared at her.
A scene of a red rug... Gold eyes woven into the edges. The room spreads out into the black of dark stone, uncut, obsydian... dangerous. Double doors, the only place to run. Beyond those doors, a cruel black area. Walls that dive up from the floor, tunnels that don't end. A dark smile, a taunting voice, and the scent of fear and blood. One step too far and she'll fall, but she can't slow down. There's no way to see around her--those blue eyes, blind in this very dark area. Pitfalls and the sharp stone on bare feet. Clothes were torn, barely hanging on the body. White flesh was torn, unspared by the harsh walls and floors.
A fond dream, almost a memory. He closed those eyes to hide the viscious pleasure within them and took a deep breath of a scene that didn't truly exist inside the realm of reality at this moment. She in her world, he in his, both thinking of a world far from them, both so truly suited to their position. She was prey. He was predator. Her soft eyes lit on him, and he felt the warmth of her gaze a moment as the sound of her caught breath echoed in his ears like a gong announcing his return to the moment at hand. He opened those large eyes and breathed out the rush of ecstasy that dared to torture his loins. He dared not lick his teeth , but rather turned it inward, gulping down the excess of saliva that welled up in his mouth at the thought of her supple body stripped down to naught but red and blue eyes.
"You needn't be afraid..." The irony brought a smile to his lips, which he tipped at the corners just slightly to make look shy rather than amused. His body tilted out around the object where he hid, his curious movements hinting at a young age. His height added to the image, the barely past 5' fox demon slipping free of his 'hiding place', staring up through black eyelashes from a down-tilted face. He clasped his hands in front of him, lending to the introverted image, and then spoke out softly, a voice that belonged, perhaps, to a dove.
".. I'm sorry if I was bothering you. You just... seemed so pretty."
Innocent blush covered his cheeks, deceiving the stirring in his loins. How long--How long this time? He contemplated the hour, the minutes, the seconds he could hold the facade before the fun began. How far could he build this illusion before he let it crack and give way to the crocodile pit below...?
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 8, 2009 2:37:54 GMT
Laughter rung out across the courtyard, the tinkling of little bells as Crystal giggled at his statement. “No, you’re not bothering me, but thank you.” For a moment, the girl thought in the back of her mind that he might have been lying. Was it the foxy slyness or her insecurities that prevented her from believing him entirely? She had never thought she was a beautiful woman, always feeling too tall, too long, and too unusual to be pretty. Crystal was naïve in this world as well as her own, trusting the small creature automatically after the sound of his lovely, innocent voice. Nothing that sounded that sweet could be dangerous. After all, one couldn’t die in the Dream World, anyway. It was fine to trust too easily tonight and wake up refreshed in the morning, wasn’t it?
Crystal drew closer to the boy standing partially hidden from her sight, bending forward a few steps away from him with both hands clasped behind her back. Her toes seemed to grip the ground better to keep her balance in the strangely sweet and slightly awkward pose. The soft satin of her dress bounced around her knees lightly in a bit of wind, the ribbons flowing out along the ground just as she had dreamed they would. Sometimes she wondered if this was a world of her own making despite the fact that it happened only at this school. Could she control some of what happened during her dreams? Did she have the same amount of free will she had in her daily life or were some things predestined.
She wasn’t sure she believed in destiny or fate, but certainly subscribed to the theory that she was the master of her own. Crystal was the type of young woman who strove for every thing she accomplished and simply refused to be given most things. Call it pride or stubborn nature, she was set in her own unusual ways that usually involved going about things the hard way. Crystal crossed her ankles in a dainty manor, making her pose all the more precarious and smiled at the boy playfully, her childlike mannerisms back in place.
As she got closer, a moonlightesque beam brightened the world around her so that her frail human eyes could finally see. The boy was unusual. Well, unusual was a word that simply didn’t describe him. Almost half a foot shorter than her, Crystal could only comprehend his appearance as a meshing of a human and an animal. She almost pulled back, a sense of prejudice she didn’t understand ripping through her, a trail of disgust left in its wake. He was… a monster. Her body recoiled unconsciously, fear threading through her cerulean eyes. As soon as it had taken over her, she had it under control again, refusing to let the unknown mold her into a person she didn’t want to be. Crystal didn’t want to hate him only because she didn’t understand him.
Crystal extended a hand as she drew uncomfortably close to the boy, her mind telling her to touch the alien ears on the sides of his head. She dropped her hand bashfully and looked at the ground, only for her eyes to become entranced with the fluffy tail that drug along it. The fur was comforting to her, somehow familiar and left her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. She looked back up to the boy’s face, a heavy flush turning her cheeks crimson. Opening her mouth to apologize, her equally as crimson lips moved without functionality, no sound escaping from her throat. What was he? Could he become her friend? He seemed so good, so alone, so sweet. How could she have looked at him with such distain without controlling herself automatically? For a moment, she thought her gem colored eyes would well up with tears, but she choked them back, thinking that maybe he still hadn’t noticed anything.
“Would.. Would you like to play?” Somehow, the stick of chalk had made it into the bodice of her dress and as she pulled it out, it left a small streak of chalk dust along her chest, barely distinguishable from the natural ivory of her skin in the Dream World. She knelt down again and began to draw squares in an erratic pattern, one that would be more challenging to hop to and from on. This time, she drew sixteen squares in something that looked like a maze, an image she simply couldn’t shake from her head.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 8, 2009 3:30:42 GMT
His very scent was alluring, his body demure, but somehow, she recoiled. Fear entered the air with a flourish and hardened his eyes. If she runs, I can catch her... The soft coo in his head calmed him, preventing the irritation from showing. Her eyes observed him, but what was left in the end was a mixture of suspicion and adoration. The mixture had frightened her, unlike most who merely found it cute, like a small animal to cuddle. Fedafyr was curious how she derived such a sensation, but he didn't voice it. Today wasn't about satiating some indignance, but rather, food... It was very much about feeding.
Her voice was soft, like a bird, and his matched when he mumbled and nodded, following after her as she bent down to retrace more squares. The indignified game of cat and mouse was growing everlong. Her body, knelt, vulnerable, but she hadn't quite given trust to him yet. So he would wait. He wanted to watch the fear, and smell the pain from betrayals one couldn't understand as they seeped up inside of her. The squares moved oddly around, resembling the image in his mind, as if somehow they were seeing the same thing--some aphrodisiac in the air reminding them of some home so far away that they had shared. She was special, something he could package and take away. Something inside him whispered of some hidden thought of ownership, some need to protect her from her trust. Her first instinct ignored, she exposed everything to him...
Endlessly, she said...
He slipped behind her, fingers reaching to touch her arm, soft pads hinting at a caress while just making himself real to her. Tonight was different. Tonight was going to be.. so much less destructive. The image he would leave tonight as it woke from its slumber would not be of pieces, but as a whole. It would be abrupt, and leave the image intact. The horror she would experience would be.. individual. Something very unique. His tail swished beneath the long kimono as it fell, unkept, from his shoulders. His sharp but lazy eyes drifted over the hopscotch pattern and he siled ever-so-softly. "It looks to be.. a fun game... How do you play?"
His ears tucked downward, almost begging, his hair lifted in the subtle breeze and his fingers trailed away from her wrist, careful not to touch with his claws, to seem soft and without edges. At this moment, looking upward, he could see the starlight through the mist. It was thin and insubstantial, but only near to them. The trees whispered and cooed their displeasure at being the witnesses. His feet spread themselves out and steadied him on the ground, shortening him an inch or two but allowing him a sturdy stance upon which to stargaze for a moment. Home had never quite seemed so close at hand before. Peace, never so dear. His blood didn't boil quite as thoroughly, his hunger did not burrow so deeply.
Some fascinating memory had seized him. With what guile, he knew not--perhaps the air tonight was littered with opiates that increased hallucinations that triggered endorphins, perhaps some life had been shared by the souls that had stood--something very marvelous and frightening. Or maybe the enraged demoness that devoured him saw something familiar in this woman, something she wanted to spare... or favor.
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 11, 2009 4:47:41 GMT
“You’ve never played hopscotch?” Crystal’s voice was incredulous when she turned back to him, full of honey and cream as she spoke. It was tinted delicately with southern hospitality even while inside this world, making her sound just a bit sultry thought she didn’t intend it. For the most part, the girl was innocent aside from the occasional teenage fling that simply hadn’t moved past kissing and hugging. Even the mere thought of anything else made her flush slightly, then deeper as she tried to think of why she had thought that in the first place. She stood up, rising to her full height only to realize she was taller than the little fox boy. For some reason, she felt as if he was a little lost boy from Peter Pan, the flash of acute danger accompanied by sweet purity. She demonstrated the game quickly, thoughtlessly, without a singsong to keep her entertained before she lost interest in it and wandered back to the same wall she had balanced upon when she had found herself in the Dream World. She perched herself upon it, drawing her legs up against her body, folding herself like origami. Crystal wrapped her arms around her knees, compacting her body, making her look a little small and frail despite her height. Suddenly, she longed for her cloak, casting an eye toward it.
She spoke again, a little more quiet this time as her eyes examined him. Her tongue glided along the inside of her mouth slowly, dreamily, curiosity plaguing her suddenly. “Do you live here? Or are you a student at the school?” She was blissfully unaware of the feelings careening dangerously through his body, perhaps because she had always been naive or possibly because she still felt guilty from her sudden drawing away from him earlier. Never being able to sense danger had always been a downfall of Crystal, her friends often told her back home that she was too trusting of anyone she met. She’d always had the annoying habit of presuming someone innocent before guilty, a habit that was far more suited to a defense attorney than to a young girl. “My name is Crys-.. “ She paused, laughed suddenly, and covered her head with her hands. It hadn’t yet occurred to her that this boy might have been someone from school that would have seen her identity immediately. She was a senior at Somnium and had met many of the students there. Surely, even at a big school, her face would have been memorable and even now she was easily recognizable, albeit missing all of the color in her skin.
Her eyes were pleading as she addressed him, biting down on her lip after she finished speaking. “I do hope you’ll keep my secret if you’re from the Academy. No one knows that this is what I look like here-” Crystal gestured toward the cloak that lay puddled on the ground, “because of that of course. I don’t know why I’m afraid of what people will think if they see me here. It’s a bit of a nightmare, really.” She pushed the hair away from her face and shook her head, words flooding from her lips. She couldn’t decide why she kept speaking, thinking that it was an overflow of time not well spent in the Dream World. Maybe she was talking to him so much because she simply hadn’t talked to anyone else here with such honesty, always relying on her cloak to hide her. There was something about this boy that made her feel safe, as if he had the potential to be an old friend, or maybe even a new one. She smiled slightly, tilting her head toward him before finishing up her speech with, “I’m sorry... I haven’t even asked your name?”
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 14, 2009 5:20:51 GMT
Her scent even followed each word that rolled from her lips. His eyes followed her, the soft churning in the center of his stomach hinting at the need to procreate, a want spent heavily inside her. Innocence in her eyes and her life, maternity her goal beyond anything. Someone would eventually take up place as her child, and she would bond to that person so thoroughly that they could break her heart into pieces and she would merely pick them back up and hand the dust back to them carefully, assuring them of her loyalty. The world could fall around this child-woman at the hands of the one she fell into such a trap for, and she would cling so thoroughly to them that it would matter not. She would bear whatever world she created on her shoulders, benign and sacrificial, while they shackled her feet and arms to hold her as uncomfortably as they could. You are a fool-hearted whore.. The words were glossed, the venom losing its poison by the pity that bred in the back of his mind. She coiled upon the soft grass and stared longingly at her fortress of cloth. Vulnerable blue eyes reminded him of a moment of closeness, a sight inside himself beyond those mirrors, a promise of truth and serenity and utter peace, but with a blink it escaped again, crushed under the weight of her coal black eyelashes as they fell to her cheeks.
".. I am from here." He muttered the words, but they were lost under her sudden need to speak. Through those petal-soft rose lips fell a charity of information of insecurity and fear, and his silent cries inside him for her to be silent.. to not give him such an asset with which to use to her disadvantage. She had already done so, though, and there was truly nothing sweeter than the feeling of power she had placed into his waiting hands. Without a hint, she had taken the step forward into the rushing water, believing that because he stood upon its surface, she, too, could gain that power by believing in him. Truly, it was going to be to her utter disappointment that he will not reach a hand down to save her from drowning, but rather smile as her fear-stricken tears mix with the watery grave she chose for herself.
He stared at the etched squares, running in and out of one another like a thickened maze. He placed one foot inside the square and smiled to himself, but said nothing. His ears flicked back and forth, like an intrigued pup as his tail swung up behind him. The heavy implication of youth donned like a thick winter cloak, he turned and smiled up at her through half-lidded gold eyes, "My name is Fedafyr. Feli'fyrn te Sae'ni," Those words were spoken as if from the tongue of someone celestial, some creature so beyond real that it would be hard for a human to grasp the language at all. Fey-Lee-eh-FEE-urn TAY SAY-eh-NEE... The syllables mixed together, something graceful about the saying of it, ethereal.
His eyes turned downward, the loose strands of black falling like a cloak around his face as he stared at the squares. His other foot moved to the next square, avoiding touching the lines with his skin. A pivot brought his next foot to the proceeding square and the next. Though he did not do the game right, his movements seemed as a dance. He refused to follow the pattern perfectly, stepping across some squares and back to others, his smile widening. For a moment, he was truly ten, dancing for the trees' approval, waiting for the nearest animal to tell him his grace surpassed all those before him, waiting on his only family to acknowledge him. He never touched the same square twice, but began to step from one maze of squares to the next of the three, feet moving between each flawlessly, even when the step required a leap. Lost in this memory, Fedafyr let out a soft giggle of glee, something truly joyous.
"I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand–
So what could I do but laugh and go?"
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 15, 2009 0:24:31 GMT
Crystal held her breath, her eyes wide with with amazement, entranced with the movements of the boy’s body. His movements were ageless and yet ancient, evoking an emotional reaction in the core of her body. She didn’t breath as she watched his dance her mind growing faint and mist filled until she took a breath, an explosion of air into the darkness of the night. The entire world seemed to pause as she froze, the beat of her heart slowing to match the taps of his feet against the ground, the pace of her breathing keeping in tune to his otherworldly song. He was using words that she knew, wasn’t he? This wasn’t some foreign language and yet, she couldn’t comprehend the meaning of it, only the happiness that was wrapped in ribbons inside of the lyrics. Her sapphire eyes grew moist, her heart comprehending his movements as the expression of something entirely organic, as natural as anything could have ever been, as if he had grown from the ground beneath his feet and was meant only to dance just as falling leaves glided through the air in autumn. He was breathtaking and owned every ounce of oxygen in her body at that moment, in fact, he owned her. He’s only a boy, Crystal... Only a boy. her foolhearted mind reminded her and yet, something about him made her heart beat faster beneath her skin.
Her blood began to cool when his song ended and she rose from her perch, silk falling back down toward the ground around her. Crystal was smiling, a strange broken smile as she stood and her hands came together in a delicate round of applause, a smattering of sharp clapping sounds as she rushed toward him. Her eyes were lively as she spoke, taking both of his hands in hers in a rush of unnatural excitement. “You said you’d never played! You’re wonderful, Fedafyr.” His name sounded musical dripping from her lips and made her smile grow even wider. “Where did you learn to dance like that? I’m envious.” She grew conscious of her hands and dropped his shyly, returning her elegant fingers and white tipped nails to her sides. Crystal wished suddenly that she was stronger, that she had something that she had to be strong for, some responsibility to take on her shoulders. She had never been able to exude confidence for herself, but by defending someone else she had always found the steel that drew her spine up straight and proud. Perhaps she didn’t love herself alone enough to be powerful, but by protecting someone or something she always found that love that she was missing inside. Crystal Dinaia was not a strong woman naturally and simply couldn’t defend only herself. For all of her airs and prophetic statements, she was only a scared little girl who was emotionally orphaned on the inside.
It was only this close to the dark haired male that she realized calmly that he echoed the scent most males had, a woody scent coupled with something she couldn’t identify. It made her smile a little when she realized that he was more human to her than most of the people she met in the real world even though he existed only in the Dream World. She didn’t usually make physical contact with even her friends, afraid of the commitment that suggested, afraid of the connection a relationship like that would hint to. “Could you teach me?” Her voice was tea-and-honey, a hint of vanilla at the end, her skin porcelain, her soul and existence open to him. She trusted him, whether or not that was a good thing she wouldn’t have known. She could only go off of this moment, first impressions and archaic fears were worth nothing. The future was unseeable for the girl and she couldn’t have promised that she would have wanted to see it anyway. What was the fun in knowing everything before it happened? Just like the rest of his prey, she was entranced so easily though it had taken a moment more for him to do so. Why shouldn’t she have been easily taken in by him, anyway? He was just a boy... And this was just a dream.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 16, 2009 2:56:19 GMT
Fedafyr ceased his movement, the noise ushering him far away from the memory, dragging him back into the present with gut-wrenching realism. To have such an escape dangled before him, only to be taken through his fingertips, felt like a ripping arrow through his gut. A struggling conscience behind those eyes crushed, falling to the ground gripping a bloodied hole through his torso, aware the blow was fatal and crippling. His blood ran like fire through his veins, burning away the remaining control he had. Left before her was a shadow, a hollow doll for a moment that didn't move. His eyes shook, pupils dilating as he stared forward through some clearing haze, at his world as the gears began to turn, moving him inside this puppet body with the steaming gears of rage and loneliness. When she grasped his hands, he didn't feel her touch. His limp hands pulled within her own, cold but warming quickly under her touch. Silk slipped down his forearm to bunch at the joint of his elbows, revealing slender arms.
I hear some distant drumbeat
A heartbeat pulsing low
Is it coming from within
A heartbeat I don't know
A troubled heart knows no peace
A dark and poisoned pool
Of liberty now lost
A pawn, an oppressor's tool.
His eyes snapped in on her, suddenly able to focus on her own blues. The feeling left him vulnerable, and his eyes changed where they rested to her lips, far away from the mirrored image of himself in the gloss of her irises. Drawn inward from his extremities, the feeling came back, the warm knowledge of touch and power. A voice softly echoed within him, a language older than him, a thought older than time. Overwhelmed with love and hate both at the same time, he was an object of supreme calm. Though inside the blood boiled and the heart beat a tempo most unnatural, no picture of it showed on his face as the smile whisked its way across his soft lips. His fingers grasped hers for a moment before they flitted away, but she was precisely where he thought she should be. A dance for you and I today.. to take your breath far, far away. He breathed a soft cloud from between those white teeth.
A gunfire shatters silence
Where birds once sweetly sang
A mother cradles a child now dead
Now death where life began
He reached down and took hold of her soft hand, claws still careful not to touch her porcelain skin. His voice was gruff, a little deeper than it was a moment ago. A hint of age tipped the edge of each syllable, "I think you'd be natural at it..." He pulled her hand close to him, standing upon his toes to twirl her back to his chest. His fingertips slid down her unheld arm, the other hand finally coiling around the back of hers, pulling it back to place it gingerly upon his hip. "I can teach you." The words were soft, spoken against his earlobe before he slid his chin down again, his nose naturally pressed to the base of her neck.
A change is slow in coming
My eyes can scarcely see
The rays of hope come streaming
Through the smoke of apathy
He moved his tail to the side, brushing it against the back of her hand upon his hip. Silk fabric fell across her skin, the heat of his bare chest pressed neatly against her back. Nothing awkward lined up quite right, so the feeling of invasion was slow to catch up. His hair brushed her shoulder as he moved his hands from hers, leaving the one on her hip and placing the other back to coil in his silken black strands. Fedafyr's fingers dragged across the sides of her dress, the claws catching ribbons weaving in and out of the cloth, cutting them, loosening the cloth around the slender woman's body. He gripped her waist just tight enough for her to feel.. "safe"... and began to move her body to a tune she couldn't hear. A soft voice, echoing, seemed to surround them with music, but it seemed not to come from his lips at all. He moved her body, making her feel light, graceful, unable to fall. His strength was unnatural, his fingers became, over time, just a tad too sharp.
But oh my heart be strong
And guide when eyes grow dim
When ears grow deaf with empty words
When I know there's life within.
The tempo gathered, picked up, and he spun her. She moved through the air as he lifted her, as if she was flying. The song seemed to become more urgent, more passionate. He spun her to face him, his gold eyes slitted, lashes low. That smile on his face had dissolved to something more like a smirk. Nothing innocent was left in that look... He pulled her close to him, and the way his fingers touched, there was something so much more controlling in his grasp. No longer was it a lesson, but a movement that she couldn't control. She pressed up close against him, smashing into his body and spinning 'round, her clothes had shifted--they must have been falling off of her, but he kept her hands trapped. Even when he did not have hold of them, his arms seemed to be keeping them from having free movement. His fingers bit into her flesh, just a soft touch of danger as they slid from point A to point B. Not yet inappropriate, not yet obviously dangerous, just a little more rough. A slow, gradual dissolution from the previous soft encounter. Their feet moved, but when she did touch the ground, she seemed not to encounter anywhere but within the chalk-drawn squares. Through this feverish passion, Fedafyr played the game as well, danced her through each square as if touching a flake of chalk-dust would render him powerless.
May the spirit never die
Though a troubled heart feels pain
When the long winter is over
It will blossom once again.
The danger became immediate, his hands grasped her thighs and as he lifted her, slid up the inside to rest on the curve of the underside of her ass. Tall, his nose dragged down between her breasts, down her stomache, and when he parted her legs a moment to slide her up and over him, an intimate touch that she might have tried to convince herself was accidental, hot breath as she felt his fingers remove themselves from her. For a moment, she was alone, in the air, but it was short. He turned and, even before she could fall those 5 feet to the ground, he had seemingly appeared in the squares she was meant for. His fingers grabbed her hips and set her down in those squares joltingly, making sure they landed within them with his own. The force, a crippling blow to her knees, forcing her legs to couple forward, around him, forcing her to her knees, forcing her to kneel.... No more was the danger a whisper in the wind, it was very real as she sat, her face against his stomache, the flat abdomen hard beneath the petal soft skin. Fedafyr's fingers slipped through those red strands of hair, slowly, but cruelly. He forced her head backwards, "... See, I told you... You are a natural." The words were like venom, a condescending reminder that she belonged on her knees before him more than a compliment of her dancing skills. His face descended, knelt... and his lips caught hers roughly beneath his, leaving no room for argument.
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 16, 2009 4:26:50 GMT
“A natural? How flattering...” Crystal felt dizzy from the proximity, noticing the small changes in his attitude and actions, but writing them off easily. Is he nervous? Should I have not asked? She took his reaction upon her shoulders, blaming herself for her own overreaction. Even as she leaned into him, feeling strange and foreign in his arms, her heart raced and she couldn’t decide why it seemed to jump out of her chest. Unexplainable fear and general shyness with the male gender caused her to break out in a fine sweat, the silken violet material of her dress sticking to her skin instantly, making her even more uncomfortable. I can teach you. What exactly did that mean? Her mind was drowsily guessing at answers, overstimulated from the simple touch of his mouth against her neck, the hot breath that delicately caressed her skin. All at once, she relaxed into his arms, an action unbelievably to Crystal most of all. Her body felt secure, safe, warm in his grasp as her resistance fell away and she was lured into a sense of false security. Crystal sighed, remorsefully and happily at the same time, and stroked the fur on the tale that touched her hand unconsciously as if she was petting the ears of her puppy she had loved during her childhood. It was the same feeling of comfort and familiarity as being at home in the front yard, her mother humming and cooking dinner, her father sitting on the front porch and yelling for her to stop just petting the dog and play fetch with him. She was sure to turn him into a sissy if she just petted him.
Reality slipped back in, abrupt and rude in her reverie. Pain, the feeling of muscular appendages digging into her soft, easily bruised flesh made her try to push him away instinctively, but she couldn’t fight back as physics and her personal beliefs were defied and subjugated to his will. She was flying, but not freely, she was a bird with a string tied around her ankle, always drawn back to the flame to which the other end was attached. Crystal wanted to sob, suddenly half aware of what was happening, of where the archaic fear she had felt in the pit of her stomach upon first seeing him had come from. The cry caught in her throat, forming a lump which she could not move, a feeling that increased the panic that had bubbled up inside her while she had been distracted. She met his golden eyes, her own blue gems wide and her pupils dilated with mild terror and a stupid thought crossed her mind. If mixed together, would they make emerald green? Chalk dust floated around them, creating a gentle cloud against the ground and the childish game she had played plagued her, angered her.
Violation. The feeling of sheer violation shot through her body as she looked down, seeing her own porcelain skin decorated with lace undergarments, her dream born dress nothing but shreds that fell to the ground. His touch was fire that didn’t ignite passion, but buried it beneath a dampening layer of horrified realization. There was no hero. No one would rush to her side to defend her. Her hidden days in the Dream World had left her with no friends here, no comrades, no allies. She was as alone in this world as she thought she was in the real world. Her face was pressed against his stomach, the heat of his body pouring onto her, cold fear turning the sweat that lined her body into ice. Her hair covered her face as it was pressed against his body and she tried to turn her face to the ground, thinking that if she only pressed her forehead against him, that he wouldn’t have control over all of her. His hands were in her hair, trickling along the strands like a lovers touch. Hope tinged her thoughts, but only for a moment. Maybe he was angry with me? Did I do something? Is he calming down? But all of her wishes were for naught. Crystal’s legs hurt, the skin against the cobblestones beneath her tearing and bleeding easily in a crimson trickle against pure white skin. Her knees cried for him to stop most of all, the bones digging into the ground, grinding softness against stone.
Why? As she gazed up into his face, his gentle voice changed into something primal and fearful. What had she done that had changed him? Had she pushed too hard, asked too much, and become his faithful dancing partner too easily? She suddenly remembered Loves Music, Loves to Dance, a book in which a beautiful woman had been lured in by a serial killer to go out dancing. He had captured her there in his home and when she had fallen, wobbling unsteadily on too-tall heels, she had broken her leg, falling victim to him instantly. What was she natural at, other than falling too easily? She ground her teeth against each other and when he bent her head back, she denied him access to anything more than what existed in front of them. Somehow, through the haze of panic, her modesty tried its best to hold fast. The argument had been silenced, but not the fight as she struggled to pull back from his hand, her hands pushing feverishly against his knees, her nails digging into the fabric found there with no result. She wanted to cry, but wouldn’t let him see the tears make their trails down her cheeks, no, she had too much pride for that. Anger pushed against her cheeks, darkening the flush there rapidly as her face flamed. How dare he? He had stolen much more than just one kiss in only a few moments, his supernatural side showing though he had hidden it carefully. The raging Catholic inside her forced her to pull away only centimeters from his lips, her voice ragged and high pitched despite her efforts to steady it. “Demon,” she whispered, her eyes flashing as she gazed into his, nose to nose, lips delicately brushing his as they mouthed the words. Crystal Dinaia, just as always, had no idea who she was dealing with now.
Naughty girl to disobey.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Jul 27, 2009 6:59:09 GMT
Breathe into me... make me strong. Give me faith.
She smelled like heaven. Each hot breath that passed his lips, even when laced with hate, was a treat that he wanted to savor for eternity. His claws dug into her scalp, daring her to seal her teeth behind those lips continuously, but his tongue didn't care. It swept her lower lip, tasting her fear, the trembling touch of her lips as she whispered that curse of truth against his own lips as if it might deter him. He cooed a soft, subtle sigh against those lips and kissed them again, his teeth dragging across and cutting into the flesh there, leaving a bloody trail that he could taste from with his tongue. His tail whisked back and forth, his eyes staring into her frightened ones, watching the irises as they shook with the fear that gripped every inch of her body beneath his steadfast hold. He slid her head back another notch, her neck stretched and exposed, an uncomfortable arch forced on her back as his feet spread to each side of her, his groin forcing her chest back, forcing her to lean as he slid his fingers back over that slender arch, leaving small welted trails in the wake of his claws until his fingers gripped that neck, tightening to constrain just enough air to lighten her head before he shoved her back unceremoniously.
Her body flattened against the cobblestones, he knelt over her. What was left of her clothing began to disappear. Shreds and tears, claws unforgiving of the skin beneath it. Her soft breasts assaulted, her chest covered in cuts from sharp claws, so clean they were almost unfelt until he roughly pushed her skin to pull at the weakened defenses, tearing them open just a little bit wider than necessary, "Demon...?" The words were soft as his claws pierced her flesh, sliding her body up the cobblestones, draggin her beneath him so that their soft flesh met, each bit of him covered in her scent as she left remnants of her life in streamers along his white skin and the gray stones beneath her. Nothing would save her, even if she had a hero. There was ownership in this moment, as his fingers dug even past the claws, pushing open the bruised flesh around his fingertips.
His hair cascaded down around them, sealing them in this area, merely him and her, isolating them in this instant of his power, where she knew the end of the story. "I love that word. Demon." The voice was almost feminine, lined with some desire that etched itself behind those gold eyes. A flash of a woman as he closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of utter contentment, "The title is to imply power over sins... power over people." He smiled, lush lips turned upward at the corner as he pushed his body down, his groin pressing ever further down her body as he stretched his out above her, fingers loosening her flesh as they tickled her ribs painfully. "It implies.. power over you. Doesn't it, little Crystal?" He opened his eyes, wide, curious, almost innocent again. His fingers slid away from her body, trailing over her arms and skin, wrapping his fingers between hers, lifting her arms slowly above her pool of red hair. "You fear me. You love me. You'll never forget me. Every movement I make..." He slipped a leg between hers, sliding her legs apart as he sidled himself between them. His body pressed into hers, against hers, roughly grinding with implications of what would be, "When a demon incites your sin of lust, will you pray to God to save you?"
He rocked against her, painfully. Cloth still divided their bodies, but he was too close. Every bit of scorching heat that eminated from his body consumed and devoured the woman below him, his eyes taking in the site of the banquet set before him.
Will you just sit there, stuck, afraid to risk reality?
The sound of tearing cloth grounded the situation, removing the wall betwixt the two of them, leaving her exposed to the elements. Her hair haloed around her on the dark cobblestones, her white skin framed by the dark, misty backgrounds around her. An angel beneath him, the glow off her skin possessing an ethereal quality, like a doll dripping with red paint. Her pink lips trembled beneath her hard tension building in her stomache, the tension he could feel knotting beneath his body laying across hers. Her big blue eyes stared helplessly up into his and he drank in every emotion beneath him. Each muscle twitch that shuddered her body, every movement that denied her fear and spoke of her breaking pride and courage. His tail brushed along the inside of her calf as he cooed his triumph, every piece of him soft against her equally soft skin, each edge sharp, but nothing hardened. He was the epitome of a predator by allure alone. Attraction lead the butterfly to his teeth. He was built to catch and destroy the sentient.
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Jul 29, 2009 4:06:29 GMT
The girl was trembling and gasping in abhorrence each and every time she felt him touch her further. In another world, she would have been able to fight back. In her ivory tower she would have had the strength in her arms to push him off, enough feeling in her legs to run away until she could escape. In another place, wings would save her from his claws, but in this cruel place there was simply no fantasy left. With his dagger like fingers holding her, reality was the only option she could face, though it pained her to do so. In another world, she would have escaped because someone else would have stopped him or perhaps, because he would have stopped himself.
Crystal closed her eyes as he pressed closer, turning her head to the side as if she could sink into the ground if she just crushed herself against it as hard as was humanly possible. A strange whimpering distracted her, made her wonder where it was coming from until she realized the sounds were coming from her own throat. Where was the defensive voice she had struck him with before? Why could she not spit curses at him now? Had fear set in too deeply? Was it preventing her from praying to a God that wouldn’t answer, just as he had said?
Then, from somewhere inside her soul, calm replaced the frenzy he had incited, if only for a moment. The whimpers caught in her throat evaporated and she breathed a bit freely though he was crushing himself against her. She could feel every inch of him against her body now that the clothing had disappeared, the warmth of him comforting… in a terrifying way she didn’t quite understand. Her hand stole from its position at her side and touched his cheek. Blood had trickled down her arms, tracing complex patterns on her white skin, delicate streams of her life force breaking free from her body. It was almost as if she had done this before, all of it, almost as if each step was a well rehearsed movement directed by the fates. Her fingers danced along his cheekbone, dreamily, the pain gone now as if it had never occurred. It might have been the loss of blood she was experiencing, or even the fact that somewhere in her mind she had convinced herself that she truly did love the abomination that threatened her very life. She had locked eyes with him, as she trailed her fingertips against his flesh. The auburn haired girl smiled softly, then pressed her lips against the ones who had forcefully stolen so many kisses during the brief moments of the nightmare she was experiencing.
“You don’t have to do this..”
Crystal whispered against his lips, her voice not much more than the wind that swirled around their bodies. Her words were innocent, virginal, much like girl who spoke them. They were also naïve. Of course he didn’t have to do anything, he did what he wanted. She envied him in the same breath that she pitied him, just as most who were prejudiced against others. Her hands tangled in his hair for a moment, a familiar sensation that spoke of a lovers’ tryst long forgotten, of passion and promises, of fear and failure to understand one another. She closed her eyes as she softly lowered her body back down to the ground, the unforgiving cobblestones digging into her lacerated flesh. Revulsion for what she had just done wracked her body but the inner argument still raged, her mind competing with her heart and her body. There was no possible way she could have loved the monster whose grip she was tangled in. For one to love another, there had to be at least a chance of that unrequited love being returned on the other side. Fedafyr would never be able to love her. He could desire her, but never love her. Her breasts heaved in a painful sigh as she spoke again, trying to catch the breath that kept failing her for some reason. “Fedafyr,” She began, her voice at a low, intimate level, “While you are correct in assuming that I’ll never forget you, I will always loath you. Loving and loathing are two things that can never go hand in hand.”
Crystal’s sapphire blue eyes opened, watery with tears for a reason she couldn’t comprehend. One tear traced its way down her face as her voice came out in a sob, her words distorted and garbled. “Fedafyr, why couldn’t you just play nicely?” The burning question was stuck in her thoughts and encompassed all that she was.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Aug 4, 2009 23:28:50 GMT
The first violating motion was the worst--the tearing, the pain, the feel of lost time and purity. It was a sensation worthy of note at the top tiers of torture when sentencing the violator to Hell. Fedafyr's entire body seemed to take in some raw satisfaction in the utter pain he caused. His tongue slid up against her neck, tasting the flesh beneath his mouth as he smiled a wicked smile, "Loathing and love are merely two sides of the same coin. So, yes," He hissed the word and pushed her down hard against the cobblestones again, yanking her fingers roughly from his face as her head cracked against the hard stones again. Just enough to dizzy her, to intensify everything through a lack of control, "You loathe me, Crystal. It's perhaps the worst feeling you'll ever endure--you'll think about me... every moment. Think about my touch..." His body would scale hers, his fingers digging a full knuckle into her skin at her sides, "Think about my breath..." His teeth descended against her right ear, pierced it, and his tongue slid up across the blood, "Think about my..."
Something stirred in his belly as a sudden exploding light came to view. Something screamed in his head for him to stop, for him not to touch her. Fedafyr froze against her body for that moment as his tail straightened out and his grip loosened. Those golden eyes exploded green, as if something was dropping paint into them from behind the iris. His breath stopped, his tongue pressed against the top of his mouth, and his body seemed to tremble under the sudden weight of his mind. "... Son of a bi..." The words slowed out as he breathed and pushed himself up, slipping sharp fingers around Crystal's neck so she didn't dare to move during this point of weakness. Get off her! Get away from her! Another hand moved from her side, the pressure of his claws receding as he brought them up to his face to press the pads of his fingers against his temple as if to assuage a headache, "Fe.. Fel'iha Raus." The words were snapped, but they seemed as if they lacked a form, like they blended with the wind and sang through the trees, Shut up. You're irritating me. Paris had gone to sleep--or rather, woken up here. Fedafyr had been halfway through this prize before the damn idiot had finally found his way into his head again.
Paris had gone to sleep late tonight--he'd been grading papers. When he had come into this body, this was the first.. the very first.. time he had ever come into such a scene. Often, he had been aware, but he could close his eyes, cover his ears after talking, and just scream his dissent. Today, though, he'd entered and stared into haunted blue eyes, took a deep breath of vanilla from her red hair... stared at Merrin, before he knew it was a student--far worse, not a lost apparition, but an innocent, frightened rabbit. For the first time in his life, the teacher struggled hard. He found some muscle, some sense of reality under his fingers as he tried to dominate the mind of the kitsune. He pressed his fingers against the door that was seeled and pushed hard, struggling out past the heavy iron door, but just as his body seemed to be out--just as he began to seize control--something more terrifying than that descended upon him.
Black wings, mismatched eyes, and a smile much more terrifying than the beast he inhabited. Her body was thick, well toned, and every breath, every look, called out for death unending. Pain and rage behind blue black curls as she shoved Paris back into his captive box with a touch that seemed almost benevolent. Helpless. The thought elicited by her touch flooded over him, paralyzing his resolve, and he gave into the despair that proceeded it... I'm helpless! Too far gone to understand, this was a beast beyond reckoning. Two consciousnesses struggled against his own; two much more powerful than his.
There was a sense of release. Breath echoed from his lungs again, his tightening grip on her neck loosened. Thirteen seconds of reprieve were up for her. He leaned down again and suddenly and painfully resumed, as if those thirteen seconds were merely a breath, as if they were a moment out of time that did not exist.
"... I don't play nice, Crystal." The whisper was an apology, something deeper than it should have been. It was a brief grasp at sympathy, a brief notation of regret.
There are no knights in armor here,
Only skeletons in plate.
There's no one who won't turn away,
To spare themselves your fate.
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Post by Crystal Dinaia on Aug 6, 2009 1:55:12 GMT
Crystal simply hadn’t known. She hadn’t known that she could bleed in her Dream Form, let alone feel pain in her sleep. Naïve, the girl hadn’t known that danger lurked in the form of lost children or that the mists held things much more terrifying than a blow to her reputation. Not knowing that her life was at stake and that a cloak simply couldn’t protect her as she though it could had caused her mind to race for a long period of time and her lungs to almost hyperventilate with fear. That combined with the pain, blood loss, and absolute hatred that coursed through her body had sent her into a state of shock. His words barely reached her as her soul gave up, the blood and tears dried on her porcelain skin. Crystal feared that she would soon die and let her head slump to one side even as he crushed her skull against the stone ground beneath her head. The pain from the obvious violation of her body caused more tears to leak from her eyes, but she didn’t scream, didn’t cry out. Attempting to take all of the fun out of his little conquest, she closed her eyes and prayed for sleep or death to descend upon her.
Sleep? Death? In this world? The thought occurred to her and the glazed look that was taking over her eyes lifted a little. Suddenly, Crystal felt as if she had some power over the nightmare creature, something that she held above him. No longer limp, she tried to struggle against him with some strange smile taking hold of her lips. It mystified even her that she was able to smile at this point. He had just stopped growling that horrible whisper in her ear as he straightened up and seemed to lose focus. Should she continue to act as if she had already died? Would he leave just like any other animal who thought its prey was no longer fighting back? Crystal could hope, but then those deadly claws descended around her throat once again, choking her and she gasped. Struggling, she kicked, and then froze as she noticed something strange in his eyes. The golden eyes were strange, changing as she stared at him, searching for salvation, seeking something familiar. But she couldn’t find it in him when the brief moments were up, the hourglass turned over once again. The fallen redhead whimpered, then breathed safely as air rushed back to her lungs, previously cut off by his crushing hands against her windpipe. Crystal had felt something in the moments before but now it was gone, replaced by what she took as a false apology. “If you can’t play nicely, Fedafyr, then I won’t play at all.” She sounded as if she was a little kid playing on a kindergarten playground, her voice ragged and raw as she spoke. “There are rules to things.”
She literally flickered. Crystal’s entire body disappeared for a moment, becoming translucent then growing solid again. She was as lovely and as bloody as she had been a moment before, but somehow different, somehow stronger. In the real world, she struggled in her blankets, wrapping her sheets around her legs, moaning and coughing in her sleep. Crystal now knew the secret she wished she had known hours before. No matter how terrifying, how violating this creature was, she could always wake up safe and sound in her own bed. “Sweet dreams, Demon.” A whisper escaped from her lips and she wondered if he had even heard it as her image flickered twice, then disappeared from the Dream World entirely.
The girl had denied him the entirety of his lust, his completion, and his dominance over him as a whole. Would he forget about her in the coming days, wrapped up in the memories of his lover, of the teacher who sometimes invaded his mind as he had invaded her body and soul? Would he hate her, look for her again? For the moment, Crystal didn’t care about any of that as she woke up in the real world, her body soaked in sweat and a scream ripped from her throat, waking up anyone who had been sleeping peacefully around her at Somnium Academy. The blood, the scratches, the pain in her stomach, it was all too real and yet, not real at all as Crystal broke down in tears, sobbing in the arms of the first person that tried to shake the sleep from her.
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Fedafyr
Dream Being
"It's a shame you're strong--that just means that you'll never forget... how unfortunate for you."
Posts: 63
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Post by Fedafyr on Aug 6, 2009 5:30:15 GMT
Minutes went by, his fingers etching a carved possession into her body, knowing that moments were all that was away from his total control and... then... she vanished. Just for a second--for a moment, she flickered out, but Fedafyr knew the implications thereof. Dream dust dictated that there was another world they could run to, another place they could find before they were truly dead. It's not an option. He hissed to himself, but it was an option. It was happening, and she was going to slip through his claws. This rose petal was falling out of his grip, and he loathed that idea. The irrational anger he felt at a few seconds of reprieve, the flash of triumph in her eyes. There was nothing he could do but to stare down at her.
His fingers lost their grip as she faded from this existence the second time, becoming so incorporeal that he could not feel her at all, but merely see the mist as it chased her figure while it flickered. Again, she solidified, but it was not enough for him to even find another grip. Her words stung, a slap back on the nose for an unchaste dog who was sniffing around the skirts of a woman he couldn't have though he wanted to. Fedafyr, even as she faded, straightened himself up and stared down at her with those golden eyes and a straight line of soft lips on his porcelain face. He was wearing her, her blood, her smell, a few stray torn hairs from her scalp..
He reached to the side, his fingers clawing across the ground as the winds lifted his hair just a bit, then picked up, pushing the white cloth of a heavenly robe to his hand. His claws dug into its folds and he lifted it to his nose, covering half his face for just a brief moment, taking a deep breath and lowering it, slowly revealing the cornered smile that had formed on his face beneath. Arrogance had returned to those low-lidded eyes and that Cheshire smile, and his lips parted, and even as the voice began to blur..
"... There's nowhere you can hide from me, Crystal."
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