"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
After he had sought out Waylan, Bruise turned his attention toward the mare. There had been something about her, something both sweet and unassuming, that had drawn his attention. She had not belonged in that meeting, where the ground was nothing but gray dust and the souls were hungry, suckling for power beneath the dark magician. She had not belonged and yet she had bloomed, a flower amongst dust.
He had watched her seek out the red-eyed stallion and then sought the company of Waylan himself, but still, his attention had been drawn back to her. Her eyes were not the startling green of the mare who had named him, but they had been large and clear and enough of a resemblance that his stomach churned. Enough that he had left Waylan and then turned his attention toward finding her, moving gracefully amongst the deadened landscape, his cloven hooves not struggling to find purchase on the ground.
When he had, eventually, found her, he had not wasted time in moving toward her.
He came up behind and then beside her, their bodies brushing against each other for a second before he circled around to face her, his face severely handsome, despite his youth. For several moments, he was silent, although he felt himself playing with the threads of Fear he could once again feel in the air. It was electric to know he could tug on them and warp her reality. Out of curiosity more than anything, he lightly tugged, wondering how she would react, if she would react—if he was skillful enough to do it at all.
So, for now, he said nothing at all, instead studying her and her reaction, waiting to feel the rush of Fear along the breeze, to taste it and know, for once and for all, whether he was indeed back in his true form.
Bruise
head like a hole; as black as your soul.
@[Rhae]
so, he's sort of toying with fear induction, but how / if she reacts to it is completely up to you. if you want her to, she'd basically begin to feel afraid and even see him / their surroundings as slightly more ominous (although not radically different). again though, that's completely and totally up to you! just introducing it as a possibility in the thread. <3
Tioga had been missing. Or Rhae had done so well at keeping to herself she simply hadn't seen her lately. She was her adopted sister, sort of. And the larger woman was strong and always made her feel safe. But she hadn't seen Tioga in a while. There was no safety now. Only her own set of skills and trying her best to go unnoticed.
It never seemed to work out that way.
The sound of his approach hadn't been detectable until he was much too close. She startled as their coats met, her heartbeat soaring. Her wide, doe eyes flew to his face and she watched him circle before her. Large horns protruded dangerously from his skull, and cloven hooves had silenced his passing. All she saw, though, was the perfect features of his face. To call him "handsome" would simply not even begin to describe him.
She was frozen in place, her eyes uncharacteristically locked with his. Her pale hair curtained one side of her dark face, but it did nothing to shield her from him. She hadn't felt afraid of him at first, only severely anxious and nervous. Perhaps there was something in his eyes that made her feel like cornered prey. If she dropped her gaze, he might suddenly come for her.
The wasteland beyond him was emptier. Quieter. Hadn't there been a soul not far in the distance before? Her mouth dried and her legs began to tremble in just the slightest way, as though she was cold. Logic told her she had no cause to fear him, and yet she felt it singing through her veins. Terror.
And then logic was gone, and it was only beauty and his feast.
She should say something. Gods, he's gorgeous. What would he want with someone like her? She hadn't said that aloud again, right? Ok, just say hi and be done with it. He'll see I'm strange and just move on. Just hi. Easy. I can do that. Hi, hello. Hello.
"..Hello," she forced out in a croak. It felt odd to stare, to not look away as she always did, but fear drove her to keep watch of his every movement. She was tensed and all she wanted was to bolt. Her mind worked to keep her out of a mindless state of fright. He hadn't said he wanted to eat her or anything. There was nothing to be so afraid of. Get it together, already.
He could feel it on the air; the current of Fear was electric as it singed his skin.
Her eyes were wide and deep enough to lose himself within. He did not shift his gaze, did not move a muscle. There was something eerie about the control he had over his muscles. He could stand for hours and not tire, run for hours and not grow winded. His body, coltish and underdeveloped still, was a blade, a weapon; he was made to chase after those who ran.
He was a predator and he hungered as he looked at her now.
The only motion he made was when she finally spoke aloud, her voice hoarse with the Fear. At that sound, one corner of his lip rose into a smile that shadowed his father’s crocodile-grin. Wide, blank, flat. It was the smile of dream-eaters and things that crawled in the shadows; it was the smile of someone who had seen too much and yet not enough It was the smile he would wear for the rest of his days, and often.
“Hello there,” he finally replied, his voice low, even. He did not like raising his voice; he much preferred to let his companion strain to pick up what he said. After all, what he was saying was important and it was worth their effort. “You look frightened,” he mused quietly, the thin, dark fingers of his mind reaching out to tug along the string of Fear, playing along the edges of it. He could feel it in his throat, a mirror to what she felt in her own, and he thrilled at the rush as it swelled in his veins and expanded in his lungs.
How had he lived all these months without feeling this?
“Come here,” he motioned to his side, tongue clucking against his teeth. “Let me help.”
Still, so very still. It was like he wasn't even breathing and here she was nearly panting in fright, nearly quaking under that intense stare.
Something in her eyes, or perhaps in her voice, tilted a corner of his perfectly-formed lips. She should fear it, and not find it at all attractive. And yet she foolishly felt both. It was not even close to fair how viciously handsome he was, even at such a young age. The quiet dragged on, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She hoped to whatever Gods there may be that he couldn't hear it.
"Hello there," he drawled low, then noted exactly what she desperately wished she could hide. "You look frightened."
Of its own accord, her fear grew just a little and she swallowed a pathetic whimper. The world around them had nearly vanished completely. She couldn't even focus on anything but his striking eyes. She should look away, she should run. Why was she not running? Held in place by the terror gluing her firmly to the ground, she could only seem to wait and wonder what would happen next.
"Come here. Let me help." With a gentle command in his voice, her choice to run keenly slipped from her grasp. She took a hesitant step forward without being aware of it, her eyes finally breaking their hold and latching onto his shoulder where he gestured for her to join him. Every part of her ached to obey. She wanted to be there, at his side, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. If she did as he asked, he'd take care of her. He'd keep her safe from the others.
Her bright, blue eyes widened at her thoughts, and shot to his face again. It was a lie. He didn't want to keep her safe. There was no reason for him to protect her, an awkward young mare with crippling anxiety. She was only tricking herself into thinking such things. She was so stupid.
She lurched back, turning on her heel and running before she could fall under the spell of his enchanting gaze again. Her legs jerked away from her in the fastest gallop she'd ever managed in her life. Only the slightest hiccup in her gait announced the slight curve of her defective spine. Silky white hair waved behind her as though her very soul labored to keep up.
ooc: time to play with some speed, pretty boy <3 ^.^
He sensed her heartbeat more than heard it, but he relished it all the same. It thundered in his veins, echoed in his mind, and he lapped it up greedily, sucking the marrow from the bones of the moment and relishing the tension that ran like a live wire between the pair of them.
He felt her yielding to his request, to the weight of the Fear as it pressed upon the curve of her spine. He felt it, her resolve slipping away, the submission and terror blending together, braiding up her back and into her nerves.
But their gaze broke and his hold upon the threads slipped.
Before he knew what was going on, she was turning and running and he growled in frustration, the noise louder and deeper than expected from his youthful lungs. Foolish thing. Foolish mare. Now she would have to pay. Rocking back slightly, he shot forward, the speed of his gift coursing through his veins. There were few who could keep up with him, let alone a mare with a hitched step. Even without his gift, he would have likely managed to catch her, but with the Speed coursing through his veins? He was unstoppable.
He was the Fear and he would not be outrun.
His lengthy gait ate up the earth between them, his cloven hooves striking out at the barren wasteland so that the sound echoed all around them. In his anger, he reached out, hungry fingers twisting through the air to grab a hold of her vulnerable mind to warp the landscape once more, to make the sound of his pursuit even louder, even angrier than it was. He reached her side and bared his teeth, lips pulling back.
“Come then,” he whispered between them. “If you want to run, run.” He laughed and pulled back, toying with the threads of the Fear between them. “Faster. You will need to run faster than that.” He slowed more, enjoying the pursuit, nipping at her flanks to drive her further, drive her faster. The land opened up beneath them, empty, but he guided her, biting viciously when she veered, to a place of further seclusion.
To a place where the craggy slopes provided little protection, but just enough privacy.
“Faster,” he growled, just loud enough to be heard. “You will need to be faster to outrun me.”
A frightening growl rumbled from behind her, spurring her on. Her throat burned, panting with effort, wide blue eyes searching for a place, any place. Somewhere safe. Somewhere to hide. Anywhere, just away from him. Where was Tioga! Another sound reached her, boomed around her in threat. Shook her heart in her chest. Thundering hooves. Chasing her. Her breath hitched and she tried running faster, pushing herself to her limits. A sheen of sweat prickled to life on her skin, coating her in a chill of fear. With the sound of his pursuit surrounding her, she knew.. If he caught her he would kill her.
In an instant he was beside her, running smoothly. Flawlessly. Easily. As though it took no energy at all. His teeth were bared to her, and she gulped for air. Gods, don't let him take me! His voice hovered around her, stayed there clear despite that he only whispered. Disembodied. He laughed then, and fell back a little. A flare of confidence, or her growing fear, boosted her. She pumped her legs with new vigor. Her tail, a flowing sheet behind her, no longer felt as though her soul was trying to keep up with her. Now it was a banner, a white flag waving her surrender. Please leave me alone! she screamed in her mind, gasping for breath and unable to speak.
His voice wrapped around her again, low and dangerous. Faster. Like erotic silk. You will need to run faster than that. She felt herself lose a little speed. Her mind was becoming hazy. She tried blinking it away, renewing her search for somewhere to run to as he slid another step behind. His teeth met her skin. Something sparked to life within her at his touch. Her back hooves kicked out in instinct at the threat, then fell back in to her faulty pace.
She swerved off whatever course he was driving her, and he tore into the flesh at her rump to correct her. With a cry of surprise and pain, she let him guide her, knowing she had to find some way out of this before he stopped them. Warmth swelled to the abrasion. Glassy blue eyes swept all around, looking for escape. But he'd changed everything again. She was learning he could do that, change what was around her. Make it emptier. Scarier.
Faster. It came again, so soft, so deadly. She bit her lip anxiously, tried to shake the fog slowly drifting over her mind. You will need to be faster to outrun me. She wasn't sure it was even possible to outrun him. Most especially not by her and her defective spine, her unbalanced gait. Nothing could outrun him, so why was she trying to?
And then she was surrounded. Cliffs and steep slopes materialized from his false haze, pinned her in a massive cage. She quickly considered trying to make it up one of the walls, but stumbling and breaking a leg would seal her fate just as surely as being caught. Possibly more painfully.
She slid to a rough halt, her shoulders slumping and head lowered, sides heaving. She kept her eyes downcast, afraid to look at him. Afraid of what it did to her. Afraid to even turn around to face him. ..what do you want she breathed faintly, disheartened, so fatigued. Her legs trembled from the exertion. She'd felt terror, so much terror before. But now she only felt numb, resigned to whatever fate he dealt her. There was no escaping him. There was no denying him. There would be no talking her way out. Even if she'd been capable of it, she didn't see possible success in it.
That strange fog was creeping back in, and she swayed on her feet, her eyes closing. She breathed deep, as though in a trance. A low hum followed in an exhale. It was her own voice, but it sounded far away to her. Sleep. Sleep sounds nice. Make it quick so I can sleep.
He could survive off the taste of her Fear. He relished it, indulged in it, felt it slip down the back of his throat to rest in his belly. It was beyond words, and he wondered if his father felt the same thrill in the hunt. He could run forever and not grow tired. He could track her for days and not grow weary. When she came to a stop, he hesitated for a moment, considered driving her along further and farther, but eventually wavered. While pleasurable, it would do no good for him to drive her to exhaustion. Not when he had other plans for her.
So he slipped to her side, the side of his barrel pressing lightly against hers, feeling the cold sweat from the exertion and the Fear. One single shiver ran down the length of his spine. “You know what I want,” was all he whispered, his voice low and unstrained.
Then he corrected himself, “What I demand.”
He stepped away from her, the sound of cloven hooves on the hard-packed earth deafening in comparison to the smoky murmur of his own voice. He turned in a circle to face her once more, his heavy horned head lifted proudly, his dark eyes flat as a sharks. “Obedience, Rhae.” He tilted his thin, handsome head to the side, silvery forelock framing his dark expression.
“I demand obedience from you.”
Perhaps before she had run, he could have enjoyed the Fear, like he had with all of the others, and then let her loose back into the wild to be picked up on another day. Perhaps she could have been a passing fancy. But not now. Now she had deliberately disobeyed him and ignited Rage to twist around the Fear in his belly. Now she was his, and he was not accustomed to giving up that which was his own. So he took his place by her side again, nipping at her in more of a show of possession than playfulness. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said quietly before nudging her beneath the chin. “Look me in the eyes and promise me, Rhae.”
His face twisted into something almost ugly. “Promise me you will obey.”
His warmth kissed her skin, light as a feather. Her breath caught, her legs trembled. She should know better, but her faithless heart pattered in her chest relentlessly. Flutters attacked her from within. Fear thrilled through her, but also something new. Something sort of... hopeful.
"You know what I want," he whispered. His voice slid over her like a sheet of silk. She shuddered, watching him behind thick lashes. Her breath came quick and uneven. "What I demand." How could he make her so afraid, and yet so breathless. How could he make her almost feel... wanted. She was never wanted. She never knew she even desired to be. But she did. And she knew now, for the briefest of moments, for a trick of her mind, what it might have felt like.
But he didn't really want her, did he? Not like that.. She was awkward and clumsy. Defective, always stumbling over her tongue. She wasn't very pretty either, she suspected. Nobody had ever wanted her. Nobody ever would. And he was glorious. Terrifying and captivating. Toned and perfect. Maybe if he could.. maybe if he could grow to like her a little..
He stepped away from her, and as her pathetic hope drifted away with him she knew the truth. She wasn't worthy even for him. Not that she should want to be. Why did he have to remind her she wasn't good enough? She would never be good enough for anyone. His demand only drove it home. Obedience. Only obedience. Sit, Rhae. Stay, Rhae. Don't speak, Rhae.
Then he was coming back again, joining her. She wanted it to spark hope again, just to feel that new flare within her. But with hope came disappointment. And sadness. Emptiness. His teeth clipped at her, but there was nothing behind it. Only a show to keep her in line. To make her obey, like a good little Rhae. "Don't make me regret this," he commanded, his voice almost soothing. So soft, so low. A deception.
He reached for her, tipping her face up to meet him. Fragile eyes stared back dimly, trying not to think of his touch. His perfect skin on hers. His heady scent engulfing her, filling her. Fear laced everything he did, stole her breath. Made her weak. "Look me in the eyes and promise me, Rhae." Why did he have to say her name? Why did it have to sound good and yet terrifying? Why wouldn't he just let her go.. she was nothing to him.
"Promise me you will obey."
Her eyes bounced between either of his, searching. Searching for something she would never find. Name.. she breathed quietly. All she had to say was "yes" and already she was screwing up. I. I want your name, she said a little stronger, still breathless. It was true. She only knew he looked so similar to the newly-risen King.
A spoiled dark prince who gets everything he wants.
She was insolent. Demanding. Even when she bowed underneath the weight of the Fear, she did not fully submit to it, and he found that infuriating. Part of him wanted to tear her apart right now, feel her flesh rip beneath his teeth and hooves, watch her blood anoint the Pangea soil. Part of him wanted to taste Death and to know that he was the one who called it; to know that he was capable of bringing such destruction.
But the other part was intrigued, curious.
Part of him wanted to know just how much pressure he would have to apply before she crumpled, to study her until he could find all of her fault lines—to know where he could set off earthquakes and where natural disasters could ravage her beautiful, broken body. It was that part that eventually won out and he locked up his more murderous desires, for now.
“Bruise,” he finally said, allowing her an answer to her one demand. The name was harsh on his slippery tongue, as threat as much as promise, and it hung ominously in the air between them. “My name is Bruise.” A self-given moniker, an exclamation he had snapped up and held to himself. At night, he could still see the mare who had unknowingly given him the name, her bright green eyes staring out at him. They haunted him still, and he swore he would find her again some day. For now, he would settle for blue.
“Now, my sweet,” he hissed between them, moving to circle her, side pressing along her as he continued his predator’s path. He stopped on her opposite side, his dark mouth pressing against her temple so that he could whisper without strain. “Promise me your obedience.” He did not bother to ask for her name in return; he did not need it, not yet.
She was exactly what he needed her to be and nothing else.
A violent dark storm hovered in his eyes, menacing and frightening. She swallowed slowly. She'd done it this time. Now he would kill her. Why did she have to defy him? All she had to do was obey, behave. Perhaps she should try to run again. Maybe she could get away. Maybe she would run into someone else, and they could save her. That would also defy him, anger him. Would he aim that wrath at her, or a savior? Could anyone at all overpower him?
She didn't have it in her to try. She only stood, quaking and meek. Her stupid mouth was the only thing keeping her from becoming a mindless toy for his vile amusement, foolishly making demands. But there was a subtle shift, and his eyes cooled. She returned his gaze hopefully, something she'd never been able to do for very long, look into eyes. They were like powerful tools, digging deep into her soul and pulling out all her insecurties, laying her bare and vulnerable. But his.. sometimes she couldn't look away.
"Bruise," came the hard reply. A name, but a threat. A promise of what could come to her should she be foolish enough to disobey him. Again. "My name is Bruise." Her heart quickened, her mouth dried. He was so powerful, so dangerous. He could do anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. If he wanted it, he could just take it. And yet here he was, waiting for a promise of obedience.
"Now, my sweet." He circled, warm skin sliding against her clammy coat, chilled from her sweat. It lingered, licked at her, tasted her. She stood frozen, only turning her head enough to watch him behind pale lashes. When he came around to her other side, she quickly looked away, her face flushing. She felt his lips press to her head, the barrel of a gun threatening and vowing pain. Lethal. "Promise me your obedience," he whispered, stealing her breath again. Fear and unnatural attraction lamed her tongue, stopped her shaky breathing.
I.. Oh god, she couldn't do it. What would he demand of her? What choice did she have? It was the first time she'd ever been chased, first time she'd ever had to run for her life. Then he'd caught her, trapped her. It was the first time she felt this way, terrified and tingling. The first time anyone had touched her as though they owned her. The first time a man had ever touched her at all.
And it was the first time she'd ever lied.
I promise.. she whispered.
And his shackles of fear locked around her.
