07-30-2017, 10:08 PM
THANA.
(as black as your soul)
She can hardly stifle the crackling laughter from erupting from within -
A wry smile is drawn along the edge of her dark mouth, teeth bared with a sardonic, twisted humor clinging precariously on the edge of her unspoken words. Her two-toned glowering stare bores into him, tracing the hardened line of his shoulder, roving over the thick muscle that lay beneath a gleaming skin, heavily scarred and weighed down by the hefty burden of his broad, leather-cloaked wings.
The temptation that had drawn her to him has waned - he held so much promise once, but the immense power that had exuded from the surface of his oily skin had faded away, leaving behind a void and empty carcass in its wake. He had grown too content and complacent, fading into the ether while the rest had moved forward with a ravenous hunger.
He did not crave chaos as she did, and so he was of no use to her. Alas, she can sense his boredom, but she can also see it is shaken only by the stench of death and dried, coagulated blood lingering along the sinew and bone of her long, shapely legs.
There is a mischievous gleam within the silvery gray of her left eye, settled intently upon the emptiness of his own - perhaps there is potential in him yet; she had yet to see his full capacity for pandemonium and bedlam.
The metallic scent of spilled blood is settled deeply into her skin, enveloping her and stirring a restlessness within her wild, unwieldy self. His voice is low, murmuring just over the surface of her dark indigo flesh, his breath warm and lingering across the shivering surface. She can feel his lustful desire seeping through, and for a moment, she is left wondering whether it is the lithe, shapely curve of her feminine body, or the bloodshed she had caused without any provocation.
A humorless chuckle rises from the confinement of her throat, and there is no semblance of amusement in her darkening gaze. She does not shy away from him; she is all too aware that he is strong enough and powerful enough to kill her, to pin her beneath him and take her at his own will, but he is a creature of habit - a predator, seeking something more than the typical chase.
”You found me, Deimos,” she croons to him, stirring from her too-still posture, gliding her slender body against the broad girth of his own - quietly, and for only a fleeting moment, her blunt and yellowed teeth give way to the sharpened canine incisors of the beast that hid beneath the surface, deeply pressing into his hip. ”not the other way around. I hoped for so much more from you,” she admonishes, her blackened eye peering back at him, while her haphazard lock of ivory drapes over her gaze. ”you have disappointed me. A creature as powerful as you should not be hiding in the shadows. What purpose do you have here?”
A pause, and then, encircling him and tracing her one more equine-based teeth over the ridge of his wing, the coy smile returning to her, while her gaze is as untamed and as feral as what lurked within. ”Gryffen has gone to the Taiga, to declare his challenge,” she muses thoughtfully. ”time will only tell if he will be successful.” And her voice is softened, wistful, her mind drifting away to a different time - to a different place.
”Tell me, Deimos - the adrenaline I feel, it is positively thrilling. Does it ever dull?”
Does it ever bore you to end a life?
She would never tire of it.
A wry smile is drawn along the edge of her dark mouth, teeth bared with a sardonic, twisted humor clinging precariously on the edge of her unspoken words. Her two-toned glowering stare bores into him, tracing the hardened line of his shoulder, roving over the thick muscle that lay beneath a gleaming skin, heavily scarred and weighed down by the hefty burden of his broad, leather-cloaked wings.
The temptation that had drawn her to him has waned - he held so much promise once, but the immense power that had exuded from the surface of his oily skin had faded away, leaving behind a void and empty carcass in its wake. He had grown too content and complacent, fading into the ether while the rest had moved forward with a ravenous hunger.
He did not crave chaos as she did, and so he was of no use to her. Alas, she can sense his boredom, but she can also see it is shaken only by the stench of death and dried, coagulated blood lingering along the sinew and bone of her long, shapely legs.
There is a mischievous gleam within the silvery gray of her left eye, settled intently upon the emptiness of his own - perhaps there is potential in him yet; she had yet to see his full capacity for pandemonium and bedlam.
The metallic scent of spilled blood is settled deeply into her skin, enveloping her and stirring a restlessness within her wild, unwieldy self. His voice is low, murmuring just over the surface of her dark indigo flesh, his breath warm and lingering across the shivering surface. She can feel his lustful desire seeping through, and for a moment, she is left wondering whether it is the lithe, shapely curve of her feminine body, or the bloodshed she had caused without any provocation.
A humorless chuckle rises from the confinement of her throat, and there is no semblance of amusement in her darkening gaze. She does not shy away from him; she is all too aware that he is strong enough and powerful enough to kill her, to pin her beneath him and take her at his own will, but he is a creature of habit - a predator, seeking something more than the typical chase.
”You found me, Deimos,” she croons to him, stirring from her too-still posture, gliding her slender body against the broad girth of his own - quietly, and for only a fleeting moment, her blunt and yellowed teeth give way to the sharpened canine incisors of the beast that hid beneath the surface, deeply pressing into his hip. ”not the other way around. I hoped for so much more from you,” she admonishes, her blackened eye peering back at him, while her haphazard lock of ivory drapes over her gaze. ”you have disappointed me. A creature as powerful as you should not be hiding in the shadows. What purpose do you have here?”
A pause, and then, encircling him and tracing her one more equine-based teeth over the ridge of his wing, the coy smile returning to her, while her gaze is as untamed and as feral as what lurked within. ”Gryffen has gone to the Taiga, to declare his challenge,” she muses thoughtfully. ”time will only tell if he will be successful.” And her voice is softened, wistful, her mind drifting away to a different time - to a different place.
”Tell me, Deimos - the adrenaline I feel, it is positively thrilling. Does it ever dull?”
Does it ever bore you to end a life?
She would never tire of it.