• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    [private]  break it all down, peregrine jude
    #1
    messiah

    He is a thing of shadows.
    Born of a mother sprung from darkness, shadows he could press his mouth against, he has always been his most comfortable where the light cannot reach him.

    And yet, sometimes he wanders.
    Because he has found himself to be a social thing. After spending the first three years of his life in self-exile, first with his mother in the darkness and then on his own, he has spent the last year expanding his horizons. And how brilliant they are, his horizons. Because he is a beautiful thing, gold to his mother’s darkness. Cast in a saintly glow by the halo settled low over his brow.

    What an angel he is, Messiah.
    What a dark and disgraced thing he is.

    He wanders now, not in search of anything, but spurred into action by a boredom he cannot shake. He wanders now because the world around him is dying and the world is awash with color so vibrant that not even he – he who craves the darkness, who feels at home there – can deny the beauty of it. He is not one for breathless wonder, though, so he acknowledges it with a cool passivity.

    He is there by the river, absorbing the last bit of warmth that has leeched into this new season, and the sun casts long shadows. The wings are folded neatly, loosely, the head tilted as he studies the ripples that disturb his reflection. He is relaxed. Or, at least, as relaxed as he knows how to be.

    He looks up when he is joined by a stranger, a pink thing several feet away. “Beautiful day,” he calls out with a viper’s grin.

    Reply
    #2
    peregrine jude
    i glow pink in the night in my room

    A darling thing, Jude is, though she finds herself more viperous with each passing minute. That taste of excitement is raw and bloody in her mouth. Everyday is a race from creeping lava, living with the knowing that while one sleeps death continues to creep closer. Isn’t that darling? she thinks as the metallic flavor of blood coats her tongue. Darling how she runs and runs, away from every wrong turn of her life.

    For once, I’m making a right one.

    In orange glow and sudden shadow, Jude is surreal, skin shimmering like heat waves. Shadows cast jagged edges over her face: hills and valleys that cover one and leave the other exposed. The deepening hue of the sky reflects like fire in her eye, and when her lazy canter drops the trees’ shadows altogether, both are yellow with life. She steadies her loping pace into a sashaying walk, hooves splashing on the pebbles covered the shallow water.

    “Isn’t it so?” she responds to the haloed man before her. The lilt and lull of her accent color even the most mundane words sensual.

    Jude’s eyes roll slowly up to the sharp tip of Messiah’s wings, then down to the handsome curve of his chest. Her wings swish against her sides in a sign of decadent pleasure. “Aren’t you handsome, baskin’ beneath the last bits of sun!” Her lips turn up a nearly frigid smile. Could she charm this one like she has charmed them all?

    The river babbles and Jude releases laughter so similar that the noises feel musical. “Devilish with those wings, too, huh?”

    i've been blossoming alone over you


    @[messiah]
    Reply
    #3
    messiah

    He has known himself beautiful.
    What angel isn’t beautiful?
    What gilded, saintly thing is not handsome even when he is dark?

    And she is beautiful, too. A color he’s never seen before except in the sunsets at the height of summer when the heat turns the sky a kind of liquid warm. He licks his lip, abandons his reflection in favor of something better. Company, he thinks, but it’s more than that. He craves the heat of her skin because the blood that courses through him is a dragon’s blood, cold and thick.

    He moves slow along the shore. Strangely elegant for a thing of his size, his considerable stature. The words may be empty but it doesn’t matter. The smile is cold and stiff but he is drawn in by the honeysuckle voice. He is not a fool, Messiah. But there is something to be said about saints and trust.

    She laughs and he can taste the sweetness of it. Saccharine. But he does not yet know how to heed warning signs, so he stations himself close enough that he can smell her. That he can feel the heat that rolls off her in waves. He almost reaches out to touch her. Doesn’t. Contents himself with studying the color up close, the curve of her lip.

    Devilish, she says, and he drags that golden gaze lazy along the ridge of her spine, across the fine slope of her shoulder, until he finally meets her eye. “Do I look like a devil to you?” he asks, low, tips his head so that the halo casts an even stronger glow down the length of his face. 

    Reply
    #4
    peregrine jude
    i glow pink in the night in my room

    “You look like you fell from heaven, honey,” she answers quickly back, watching his eyes watch her. She likes the shiver he sends down her side, the gooseflesh rippling up her legs. It is easy to imagine the way his heat will juxtapose the cold water if he presses his chest to hers. The way he hovers just out of reach . . .

    Intoxicating.

    Jude gets lost, lost like she always does—swimming in Messiah’s gemstone eyes, a mermaid perched upon a precipice just barely avoiding his crashing waves. I’ll drown here, she thinks, once glacial smile morphing into teeth that sparkle viciously. He is a dragon ready to jump her bird’s bones, but she most certainly does not feel like prey.

    “Somethin’ tells me that halo of yours tells a few lies.” This she murmurs as she leans closer, batting full lashes up at Messiah’s angular face. “But what’s a few sugary lies, right? At least they taste good goin’ down.”

    Jude leans casually back, placing most of her weight to the side, her tail lashing like a whip against her hocks. She wonders if he’ll prove a worthy match, if the way his golden eyes melt will match the fury Vadar had incited in her.

    “Do I look like an angel to you?”

    i've been blossoming alone over you
    Reply
    #5
    messiah

    Is it the voice that gets him drunk or the things she says with it?
    He reasons that it does not matter what makes him dizzy, only that his head is swimming.
    And oh, how it swims. How deliciously it swims!

    He is young, Messiah. But old enough to know what dark thing is stirring in the pit of his gut. Old enough to know what it is, young enough to not know what to do with it. But he feels no overwhelming need to analyze it. Instead, he merely allows it to overwhelm him. Until it convinces him to reach out and touch her, which he does, gladly. And she is just as warm and he’d suspected, just as downy soft. And he smiles into the curve of her shoulder where his mouth has come to rest.

    How the halo lies. Because he is not a saintly thing and he is no angel. She’d been correct in her initial appraisal of him – devilish. The wings shift as, finally, he pulls his mouth away. “Oh, I don’t have it in me to lie,” he murmurs, a lie in itself. Everything about him is a lie. “But I’ve got plenty that’ll taste sweet going down.” He smirks then, leveling her with a loaded glance.

    Does she look like an angel? He shake his head and the tangles of his forelock fall over the golden gaze as he considers her. He draws in a long breath, the mouth pressed into a thin, thoughtful line. He studies her a long time, the gaze lingering heavy on her hip, the soft angle of her knee, the curve of her mouth. And then he finally meets her eye again and the smirk deepens. “I have come to find that angels very seldom ever look like angels.

    Reply
    #6
    peregrine jude
    i glow pink in the night in my room

    Jude wants to bite down on that poisonous tongue, to feel Messiah squirm as she literally eats his words. Will he have plenty of sugar to offer, then? Will he be able to cover her in coats of velvet words? She cannot tell if she wants to choke him or let him speak forever.

    The halo above her angel’s head casts light and digs shadow, craters of black and hills of yellow softening his sharp edges. Jude watches his face morph as he moves, lilac eyes ever intent as she watches his mouth meet her skin. It takes all of Jude’s self-control to drag her eyes from his lips and to the middle of Messiah’s spine. A pleased smirk sits quietly on her lips.

    The curve of Jude’s hip shifts pleasantly beneath the stranger’s gaze. Her body leans to beckon his gaze further, where his eyes finally come back to hers.

    Messiah towers over the pastel mare, allowing her shadow to fall into when she realizes she wants to lose herself in him. She wants to chew him up and spit him out, and for him to erase her completely. Jude reaches to feel the pulse in his neck against the sensitive skin of her lips. Pleasure blooms in her chest when she finds it steady.

    “So ya are a devil, then?” she whispers while pulling away from his skin, cheek brushing ever-so-lightly against the side of his nose.

    i've been blossoming alone over you
    Reply
    #7
    messiah

    He touches her but she does not immediately touch him back.
    And he burns with the cold.

    He smolders with a want he has never experienced before. A want for her to touch him, to chase tremors down the length of that rigid spine, a want for her to want to touch him, too. It is primal and it clouds his reasoning so that he takes the flesh of her shoulder gingerly between his teeth. Not enough to hurt, certainly, but enough to convey a message he does not understand himself.

    And then, finally, she touches him. Presses her mouth to the vulnerable place where his pulse is the strongest. And it is strong. Strong and steady and sweet. His eyes drift closed, if only for a moment, before the two of them draw away from each other. She skims her mouth across the plain of his cheek, incites a slanted smirk as he fixes his stare to her face again.

    ­I have been accused of worse,” he muses with that same smirk. He is a devil, almost certainly. A broken, holy thing. Shrouded in a light he does not deserve because there is a darkness that lives in him that not even he has fully realized yet. A darkness that festers like a wound at the very center of him. A darkness that waits.

    He studies her a beat longer, the mouth twisted into something other than a smirk. It is not quite a grimace, but there is a kind of predatory slant in it. “If I’m a devil, what does that make you?” he challenges, narrows that golden gaze as he watches her.

    Reply
    #8
    peregrine jude
    i glow pink in the night in my room

     Jude has always loved the way teeth feel on her skin. Primal, cruel, decisive—she closes her eyes and remembers the scrape, the hot breath, the way air catches in her throat. This vicious beauty, the way they tangle, their stately and sculpted visages . . .

    She indulges, as she always does. Indulges with no moderation.

    This will kill her one day—perhaps HE will kill her one day.

    But she eats the idea of control with a wild grin on her face and stares the Devil square in the face. She beckons him closer with her fluttering lashes and vivid eyes. Jude sees his want and takes him by the hand, tangoes with her favorite mixture of sex and violence.

    Jude smiles at his coy response, some flavor of evil flashing in her eyes. “I’m certainly not Persephone . . .” she whispers on an exhale, lifting saccharine lips dangerously close to his. And then she draws away suddenly, tucking her coquettish chin to her silky smooth chest. “But I think I’d be pretty good at rulin’ Hell.”

    She pauses, brings her chin back out a few inches and tilts her head. “Do you want to find out what I’m made of?”

    A dare.

    i've been blossoming alone over you


    @[messiah]
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)