12-19-2016, 07:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-19-2016, 07:25 PM by Disastardly.)
She stirred slowly, drawn from dreams that faded from consciousness long before she shook off the last vestiges of a years-long sleep and opened dark brown eyes to look on the world around her. Change had swept through the land, devouring familiar horizons and replacing them with new shapes, new forms fading into mist in the distance. If it weren’t for the meadow itself, Disastardly would think she had awoken to a whole new world.
Alas. This one would have to do.
Drawing in a deep breath, she streched shaky limbs and rose jerkily to her feet, glad there was no one around to witness the uncharacteristic graceless motion of a body that had not stirred in years. Some twist of Beqanna’s magic allowed her stride to smooth out far faster than it should have, her steps flowing quickly from the jarring, jerking gait of the walking dead into the slinky, languid steps of a panther in fine form and prowling for a meal.
And prowl she did, ogling this strange new world through the veil of thick black lashes, in search of a certain someone whose elusive scent teased her on the breeze. Zoryn. Her favorite toy, her teddy bear with teeth and claws and heavy blows, she’d know that scent anywhere. And so she followed it, weaving through the stray trees and shrubs that divided parts of the meadow into lovely little alcoves where a girl could sneak a little privacy with a toy or two, especially in the dead of night when the shadows were heavy and good little girls and boys were fast asleep.
She’d never been a very good little girl. And her Zor had never been a very good little boy.
Imagine Dizzy’s surprise when she did find him, playing with some other boy who thought her toy was his. Imagine her displeasure when her Zor moaned and acquiesced. His. Her dark eyes flashed as she sauntered toward them, but the way the other boy’s teeth bit down, the sounds they drew from one another’s throats, the hunger in her Zor’s voice, it all had her rethinking that possessive rage and pondering the possibilities.
Two toys were better than one.
“Did I sleep so long?” she crooned when she was close enough to trail her teeth along her brother’s spine. “Did you get bored without me?” She bit down hard on his withers, punishment and its own sweet reward all in one. Rubbing up against him, she stepped forward, pausing just long enough to dip her lips into the blood trailing slowly down his neck from the other boy’s bite. Her tongue darted out to catch a droplet that tried to escape, thwarting the pull of gravity as it tried to steal away his essence, her favorite treat.
Well, almost. Far better when his blood mingled with her own.
“He’s pretty,” she purred, her dark gaze traveling to the stranger, the new toy. A smirk played across her lips as she commented, “looks kind of like me. How sweet of you.” Well. He was missing a few of her charms, the sleek curves and soft edges, but that was hardly a deterrent for Diz. “I like the blue, though.” Especially that bit by the corner of his lip, made her want to reach out and touch. Taste. Bite.
Definitely bite.
A sultry smile played at one corner of her mouth, matching that entrancing little spot as she looked him in the eye, playing it cool until the instant she lashed out to do just that. To catch teeth on that lovely bit of blue, bite down and jerk away, leaving Zor’s blood behind where her lips touched.
“You have good taste, Zor.” Mmm, and so does he.
(I blame them. But also, you know, take like 34% responsibility. Details.)
Alas. This one would have to do.
Drawing in a deep breath, she streched shaky limbs and rose jerkily to her feet, glad there was no one around to witness the uncharacteristic graceless motion of a body that had not stirred in years. Some twist of Beqanna’s magic allowed her stride to smooth out far faster than it should have, her steps flowing quickly from the jarring, jerking gait of the walking dead into the slinky, languid steps of a panther in fine form and prowling for a meal.
And prowl she did, ogling this strange new world through the veil of thick black lashes, in search of a certain someone whose elusive scent teased her on the breeze. Zoryn. Her favorite toy, her teddy bear with teeth and claws and heavy blows, she’d know that scent anywhere. And so she followed it, weaving through the stray trees and shrubs that divided parts of the meadow into lovely little alcoves where a girl could sneak a little privacy with a toy or two, especially in the dead of night when the shadows were heavy and good little girls and boys were fast asleep.
She’d never been a very good little girl. And her Zor had never been a very good little boy.
Imagine Dizzy’s surprise when she did find him, playing with some other boy who thought her toy was his. Imagine her displeasure when her Zor moaned and acquiesced. His. Her dark eyes flashed as she sauntered toward them, but the way the other boy’s teeth bit down, the sounds they drew from one another’s throats, the hunger in her Zor’s voice, it all had her rethinking that possessive rage and pondering the possibilities.
Two toys were better than one.
“Did I sleep so long?” she crooned when she was close enough to trail her teeth along her brother’s spine. “Did you get bored without me?” She bit down hard on his withers, punishment and its own sweet reward all in one. Rubbing up against him, she stepped forward, pausing just long enough to dip her lips into the blood trailing slowly down his neck from the other boy’s bite. Her tongue darted out to catch a droplet that tried to escape, thwarting the pull of gravity as it tried to steal away his essence, her favorite treat.
Well, almost. Far better when his blood mingled with her own.
“He’s pretty,” she purred, her dark gaze traveling to the stranger, the new toy. A smirk played across her lips as she commented, “looks kind of like me. How sweet of you.” Well. He was missing a few of her charms, the sleek curves and soft edges, but that was hardly a deterrent for Diz. “I like the blue, though.” Especially that bit by the corner of his lip, made her want to reach out and touch. Taste. Bite.
Definitely bite.
A sultry smile played at one corner of her mouth, matching that entrancing little spot as she looked him in the eye, playing it cool until the instant she lashed out to do just that. To catch teeth on that lovely bit of blue, bite down and jerk away, leaving Zor’s blood behind where her lips touched.
“You have good taste, Zor.” Mmm, and so does he.
(I blame them. But also, you know, take like 34% responsibility. Details.)