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 Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 12:18 pm
*Slowly, he trailed his hands down from her hair and across her shoulders. Snagging on her clothing, he purred into her ear as he licked up it, raising his hips into her.
With a sudden movement, he repeated his earlier trick, lifting her and using one hand to wrap her legs around him. His tail tightened on her waist as he curled his fingers into her hair at the base of her skull, using it as a lever to extend her neck, a pale creamy line before him.
Slowly, deliberately licking up it, Ice let flicks of his power come forth, a chilling icey cold, everywhere he touched her.
His other hand dropped lower, to her chest, and he indulged an intimacy he had so studiously avoided until now. He figured she'd let him know if it was still on the no go list*
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 12:36 pm
Daegonna purred softly as he ran his hands through her hair, then over her shoulders. Her own hands roved over his back, and down to settle on his hips. As his tongue trailed over her ear, she shivered, and let out a soft 'mmm.'
Suddenly, he'd swept her up, and her legs were wrapped around his hips, his tail tightening a bit on her waist. Her hands settled on his shoulders, one thumb lightly stroking up and down the side of his neck, claw grazing over his skin. She trembled as he twined his fingers in her hair, and used them to tilt her head back, baring her throat. Her heart pounded in her chest. But she didn't resist. As his tongue trailed over her skin, she let out a soft moan, and pressed closer to him.
Everywhere they touched, icy cold raced from his skin to hers, and searing heat raced from her skin to his.
His hand dropped to her chest, and again, she didn't stop him. Her body responded to his touch, arcing into him, and her grip on him tightened.
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 1:53 pm
At first, Sieg threw himself to the ground. The sudden wave of gunfire around him meant standing was tantamount to suicide. That many rounds of ammunition...someone was BOUND to hit something important. But after hitting the deck, a slow revelation came to him.
Not all of the bullets fired were passing over his head. In fact, very few of the many reports of gunfire were coming anywhere near him.
Taking this to mind, Sieg clutched at the glock in his hand, and scrambled to a crouch. From all directions, he could hear movement and weapons discharging.
A metal slug slammed into Sieg's chest, causing him to flinch backwards. Swearing softly, he snapped the handgun he held up to aim, and felt the recoil as the gun barked off its retort to his assaulter. The shadowed figure yowled, but it was not in pain. The tone was easily identified as one of excitement, and exultation. While normally this sort of reaction would confuse the Gangrel, he had no time for thought. Lunging forwards, he snapped off another pair of rounds at the offending lick as he closed the distance. A second shot thudded into his chest, and one clipped his arm from the rear, but Sieg felt none of it as his legs coiled, and threw him into a feral leap. Slowly, he twisted over his assailant, and as he passed overhead, a rain of metal fell upon the luckless Cainite. His eyes had widened, and his arms pulled up to shield his face. Good enough for Sieg, as the hammering dealt by his salvo rendered the lick's arms all but useless.
Landing adeptly behind the gunned down lick, Sieg's free hand snapped out and tore into the fool's shirt. With a sharp tug, the old Gangrel bodily slammed the butt of the glock into the lick's face. He dropped, and Sieg snatched his handgun as he did. Now armed with a fallback weapon, Sieg kept moving.
Now the shouts were growing louder. Shouts of cheer, joy, excitement, and the incoming fire redoubled. Now, though, Sieg was more than moderately annoyed. His skin was hardening, turning resiliant to the weapons that stabbed at him. Bullets imbedded themselves in his skin, but failed to tear any deeper as he sprinted forward. The spent magazine from his glock fell, and a reload was slapped home. Figures moved in from all sides, shooting at him and each other. Thrusting his arms out to the sides, Sieg's fingers danced upon the triggers, making a roar of return fire in the night. Bullets shrieked around the field as the Gangrel slid into cover in a ditch by the gravel road he assumed to have come by. As the soft pattering of rounds slamming into dirt around him continued, he reloaded. Persistent though these licks were, Sieg was not amused, and refused to be taken apart by a group of savages with more ammunition than intelligence.
Sieg crept along the ditch. Judging by the sounds of the gunfire roaring overhead, the running gun battle was still raging around him, heedless of his taking to the low ground. There were no real lulls in the fighting, though, for him to take advantage of.
So, steeling himself and renewing the armor of his fortitude, Sieg lunged up and over the edge of the ditch, and sprinted along the road. It seemed he would be making his escape, even as he sprayed bullets to each side as movement caught his eyes. Most of the rounds flying around his form failed to find their mark, which gave him hope. But then, headlights were ahead. Two trucks, with...a flag, planted in the middle? A figure stood by the flag, holding a large rifle. He was sighting down the road...
The report of the rifle was a time and a half more prominent than the handguns had been. Sieg dove, and felt the wind pass from the bullet. But his momentum would not be denied, and both handguns thrust forward, firing madly at the figure. Sieg could tell he struck true, as the rifle fell to the man's side, and he staggered back. With a snarling growl, Sieg leaped, discarding his weapons. With a full bodied tackle, he took the man to the ground. Only barely did it register that he recognized the face, until his lifted claws were met with laughter.
Yer suppos'd to get the flag, dickshit. The flag!
The voice was what did it. Sieg recognized the face...it was the AK-wielding lick from that one night, a few evenings past. Already, he had forgotten what he had been called.
Behind him, the gunfire died down. Shouts in the night were sounding from all sides, declaring the cease fire. The lick beneath Seig's claws, meanwhile, kept laughing in the face of the vastly irritated Gangrel.
Th' look on yer face is priceless, man. Priceless. So, gonna lemme up? Game's over, man.
Rather roughly, Sieg shoved the lick's head into the gravel, and stepped back to his feet. It hardly seemed to have bothered his antagonist, however, as he stood and reclaimed his rifle.
Christ yer a violent 'un. Fastest damn run we've had in years, that was. Hop in, I'll give you a lift back to town.
Sieg, now, was absolutely flabbergasted. The man had just been shooting at him, and now he was acting friendly, and offering a ride? It strained belief.
You...you dragged me auf mein haven und shot me to pieces, und es ist vhat? A GAME?
The lick just tipped his head forward, nodding an affirmation to Sieg's accusation. As he did, he slid the rifle into a soft case, and slung it into the back of the truck's cab. As he answered, he began to fit a baseball cap over his shaved head.
Well yeah. Never played a game of nines? Poor b*****d. I's fun s**t. So we spiced up yer life a bit. Better shot fer fun than shot on th' street, y'know? Hop in the truck and you can grill me fer it on th' way back. CHEESE! GET THE ******** OVER HERE!
The short, quick manner in which the capped lick spoke was understandible only with concentration to the Gangrel, but he kept his peace. He LOOKED like he wanted to strangle someone, though. So wordlessly, he climbed into the bed of the truck, along with a group of others who were doing the same.
"Yo, man. I know yo ain't leavin' yo piece on th' dirt, dawg."
"Eh, let 'im. Damn thing kept breaking anyways."
"C'mon man, that s**t just ain't right."
Several voices, all of a broad mix of people, all bickered, shouted, and laughed as the engines roared to life. Soon, they were on their way, with drivers that seemed to hold no idea of what a safe road speed was. More than once someone was almost bucked clean out of the truck, only to be caught by his companions. It was a strange camaraderie that Sieg wasn't sure he could place. Nobody here kept quiet for long, and arguments were frequent. One person even ended up knifing the next guy over, and it threatened to spill over into a total brawl, until the driver shouted at them all. The behavior left Sieg confused, and feeling very much out of place.
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 11:44 pm
*Ice could only grin like a cheshire cat as she arced into him. Powerful and strong, he carried her easily from his wrokshop, never leaving her neck, lips or ears alone. Swallowing down the fire, he didnt fight it as the cycle of power started up between them again, cold building in him as the fire did in her. He knew his eyes were flowing to blood red but he didnt care, didnt care.
All he could feel was lust. There was still an option - the option of hwich way it went. Of who would be dominant, but that didnt matter either, yet. All that mattered was that he feel more of her skin, taste more power. With that in mind, he sat on his bed, keeping her wrapped around him and tore her shirt from her. He resisted the urge to instantly lower his lips to where his hand was, but pressed as close as he could instead*
More, Princess.... more....
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 6:35 am
Daegonna shivered and let out little sounds of pleasure as he lavished attention on her neck, lips and ears. She pressed herself against him, one hand sliding from his back, over his shoulder, to rove over his chest, exploring every contour.
When they sank onto his bed, a smile flickered across her lips. As he tore her shirt off of her, she gasped, but it turned to a low, throaty laugh as she forced her instinctive fear back. She didn't have to be afraid. Her fire blazed inside of her, racing through her veins, warming him with every touch, even as his touch sent shivers of cold through her.
His hand on her bare skin sent another shudder through her, and she shifted her legs around him, then pushed him back on the bed.
She nipped and licked at his throat, his collarbones, and on downwards, her tongue and teeth following the path her hand had moments before. She lingered on the n****e ring, since she'd gotten such a delightful reaction before, drawing it into her mouth, tongue toying with it, and then continued trailing over the rest of his chest and abs. Her eyes flicked up to his, as she explored him, bright with lust and...something else.
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 1:54 pm
*Ice howled with pleasure, back arcing as she took his n****e into her mouth.
A flash of a memory would pass down the link. Someone else's lips on his n****e, pleasure arcing through him, then... ecstacy as it was ripped out of his body, ichor flying from the wound, the mouth ltaching over it and feeding, feeding, a hand over his throat.
When his n****e had healed... it had healed more sensitive. He still didnt know why. His bliss followed the memory as it faded, and he lost his androgynous form for something more masculine.
His hand spasmed and tightened on her chest, fore and middle fingers moving side by side over her n****e in turn. His eyes had become slits, barely open. More of his power flashed out of him, the full depth of his power, deep, dark and terrifying, lurking just beneath the surface, guagable at last. There was something odd in his power, some spark that moved and tickled along the senses, refusing to be classified, but it was FAR outweighed by the depths of his depravity and AGE. He was OLD. Old beyond concept. And every year, his power had increased. It was like someone had folded a black hole in on itself over and over until it was contained within something the size of a human body but as opressive as the black hole of Calcutta. And yet... there was no threat there. No rush of him trying to push his power into her, no dominance. He was waiting. Waiting to see which was she would go - dominant, or submissive. The beast was waiting, on the whim of a slip of a girl. WHY was the important question, but it wouldnt be answered. Didnt need to be. Too much lust, too much want. Too much need.*
Princess...
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 2:12 pm
Daegonna gasped and shuddered at the intensity of his reaction, delighted, excited by how much it pleased him. Satisfaction rippled through her. His memory followed shortly after. His fingers on her chest made her moan and arc into him again, their power rolling back and forth through each other's bodies and minds. His power was a great thunder, crushing, terrifying, something that would drown her in unimaginable blackness, and a high that would carry her into space, if she could ride it. She was suddenly aware of his age. He was so very, very ancient. And she, by comparison, was so very very young. Eighteen years. Next to Ice, her existence seemed naught but the blink of an eye. She was tiny, insignificant, beside him. But in this moment, she seemed to have the tiger by the tail. He was waiting on her, she could sense it. He was waiting for her decision. The decision itself seemed crushingly heavy, now. Terrifying. There was too much power in it. Far too much. A tiny, damaged girl like Daegonna could not bear the weight of such a burden.
Daegonna's bright eyes flashed, glittering like golden coins. She made a decision then, but it was based on something she didn't even perceive until Ice had let that memory slip into her. She wanted something, needed it.
And by all the gods she would take it.
Daegonna drew on her necromancy then, almost without realizing it. She felt that cold rise in her, but it took her several moments to realize it was her own cold power and not his. She wanted his heart to beat. She wanted it to beat for her.
If his black ichor would turn to blood, she would bite down around the n****e she currently teased with her tongue. Her sharp little fangs and teeth would make a perfect circle around it. If his heart would beat, if his blood would flow, those somehow kittenish fangs would draw sweet crimson blood, a sustenance she almost never craved. But she wanted blood. His blood. She wanted his heart to beat by her will.
If he blocked her necromancy, which she was fairly sure he could, so be it. No loss. She would even let him demand something similar to what she'd tried to take.
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 2:19 pm
*He cried out, in pain, as his chest throbbed. There was no heart IN his body, by a faux heart pulsed nonetheless. A scream of agony tore from his throat as his highly effective ichor was replaced with pure, red blood, and the dull ache of remembered mortality weighed him down with every beat.
He moaned, eyes rolling back in his head, then turning black as her power flooded into him. His power rose, rose up like the leviathan it was, surging into her, coiling around her core. It could crush her. Crush and tear her without him ever needing to touch her, but it did not. Instead, it fed security back to Ice, denied his memory of mortality with tastes of her fear, taken from her memories of him. He knew he still scared her, that after this all passed she would find time again for more fear. It was like the stabiliser between them.
Drinking it down, he relaxed into the change forced on him, rather than one of his own choice. His body stopped fighting to stay ichor based and his skin took on human colour as his arteries turned red. The unique pain flooded him, flooded him with pure ecstacy. He pushed against her power though, testing her. If she gave in, he;d take over. If she fought back... the possibilities he savoured like sugar on his tongue, dark thoughts of how her blood would taste in the forefront of his mind, right there for her to see*
Go on... deny me... If you can.
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 2:34 pm
It hadn't quite dawned on the girl that when she poured her power into Ice, he would return the favour.
Ah.
Well, bit late for that. She cried out as she felt iciness grip her core. It could crush her like a fist, rend her very being with claws that she could never see or touch. Oh, but she'd feel them. Fresh fear welled up like blood from a cut that didn't bleed right away. He tasted her fear, fed from it, perhaps. She didn't really know. He didn't hurt her, though, just...pushed.
He relaxed beneath her, and she took advantage of it. She bit down on his n****e, sharp little fangs biting through his alabaster flesh. Blood flooded her mouth, and she let out a low, wordless moan, muffled by her lips locked against his skin. Her dark eyelashes fluttered, and she pressed herself harder against him, claws biting into him.. She felt his power pushing against her own, and she shoved right back, a low growl in the back of her throat. She lapped at the bitemark, quick, wet little movements of her tongue, as she swiped up every bright bead of blood.
She knew his thoughts, knew he wondered about her blood, wondered if he'd like it, if it would please him. "Yeah. Like crack" was the answer to that. That frightened her. A lot. But she forced it down, though her heart fluttered in her ribs like a caged bird. She had already decided not to do anything to Ice that she wouldn't at least try to let him do to her. She wasn't raping him. She wasn't even having sex with him. She was just....tasting. That was her rationale for this. She would (admittedly with fear, likely borderline on terror) allow him to do the same.
Later.
Right now, she was having fun, and when his power butted against hers, half challenging, she pushed right back. She wasn't restraining him yet, but she tried to will a bit of stiffness into his limbs, hoping to remind him that she had held him before. Her tiger snarled, baring fangs and claws as it pressed up against the wolf. He could play when she was done.
Unless of course he kicked her a** and took it anyway.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 8:21 am
*ICe laughed and lay back. As soon as she pushed back with her power, he stopped forcing on her, though his icy touch remained coiled menacingly around her core, feeding on that thread of fear.
Ice knotted his fingers and rested his head back on his palms as he laid back, letting her do as she pleased. He moaned with pleasure at the bite, his blood flowing freely as he watched her.
His blood, in its true form like this, was beyond just potent. Able to kill Caitiff with just a taste and bind master level vampires or cainite from the first drink, it was likely you could poison a city with justa few pints of the stuff. Daegonna was already bound and half demon though. He watched to see what reaction it might incite in her.
With his blood flowing, he closed his eyes and felt the well of his memories opening up between them. He let flashes pass between them, sharing his extensive past.
Ireland, celtic era. SOmething was running through the tall grass, followed by something even bigger. SKittering and turning, the rabbit managed to reach a rabbet hole just ahead of the arrow that flew from the hunter bow.
The hunter, as she stepped into the moonlight, was big. Blessed of a mane of white hair that trailed down her back, she was naked from the waist up, and a horse from the waist down to the silvery hooves that stamped in annoyance in the grass. Her coat was as creamy white as her hair, streaked with celtic logos in blue woad, matched by blue tattoos through her skin. A silver bow rested in her hands, but was returned to her back as she noted torchlight in the grove below.
Cantering down, she spotted the goat sacrifice on the alter first, the reek of blood hitting her halfway down. And then the prayers. Prayers to Danu and Epona. She was both. And the blood was well recieved.
Palmyra, Syria, 1st Century, Roman era. Sand blew through the town, whipped up this night into a royal sandstorm that guttered out the torches on the auditorium even as they were lit. A group of senators took refuge in a courtyard under the overhang of a merchants stall to wait for it to pass. The senate couldnt convene with this weather anyway. For a time, there was only their own voices, but as it abated... hoofbeats. Looking out of their shaded refuge, they saw one of the Gods himself, descended to drink from their foutain, his red hair blazing over his centaur-like body, covere din golden armour, small fauns playing on his back as he drank of the water. The God Mars.
'Germanicus will win at Weser River'
And, in a battle that slicked the field with blood... he did.
Minya, Egypt. The Pharoah at the age of 25 had commissioned work begin on his own tomb and was thus drawing young men from across the delta to the valley of the kings to work on his glorious internment. Towns across the Nile celebrated those chosen by the god king this night. Minya's stone hall bustled with noise and drink, one couple emerging into the night with intentions to consumate their relationship before it was too late. The woman, supporting her drunken lover, said a brief prayer to Amun before the two collapsed to the grounf. There was little to interrupt them, but when someone came to stand almost over them, both looked up. A beautiful constrast of bronze skin, white hair, golden goat legs and golden rams horns, the God Amun stood over them, and took his payment for the prayer fulfilled.
Flashes of India, Wales, Hopi America, Rural Africa, Japan, Aztec Mexico, and many more places, complete with accompanying gods, flashed by. Shiva, Kokopell'Mana, Yarilo, Thunor, Thalia, Quan Yin, Selket, Rangda, Tagabayan, Lulong, Macha... male, female, it didnt matter but many had features Ice was known for - the white hair, or the markings, or the hooves, or goat like features. Ice... DECEIT... was beyond old and featured in much of human history. He grinned at Daegonna as the images slowed*
I can be anyone you want me to be, ma petite.... anyone at all...
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 9:45 am
MEANWHILE IN THE ANARCH STATES!!!!
((Yes, IM getting involved.))
*The drive back, for the group as a whole, would be fairly quiet. Until they were about a mile out of the downtrodden area of downtown this lot seemed to call home. Driving down one of the small streets, just like the ones where Seig had originally met these maniacs, it was all about to go more than slightly wrong.
The first sign of it was a thud on the hood. A thud hard enough to, most likely, cause the truck to screech to a halt. The noise was caused, in short, by the imapct of a man LANDING on the hood from above. A rather large, jack booted, leather coated black man, who very casually held a shotgun in one hand, pointed casually, yet lethally, at the driver, should the man decide to be slightly insane and fire with the gun held that loosely in his hand.*
"This... is a Winchester Model 1887. Just like Daddy used to use. I use DB rounds, so I would suggest you do not make any rash moves, gentlemen."
*The man turned his eyes, at last, to the occupants of the car, smiling with gleaming white teeth, fangs extended, that lit up his otherwise immobile face*
"Where's 'Cheese'? Ive still got a warrant for the ferret faced little s**t bag."
*Brujah Archon Theo Bell, fresh out of Washington. And, in keeping with his reputation, likely looking for any excuse to crush a windpipe or two.*
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:03 am
The plot thickens, so they say.
The drive had been a raucous, loud occurance. The driver, the bald lick whom Sieg knew thus far only as "Taz", had the radio of the pickup truck blasting full tilt with something bordering between industrial and metal. Meanwhile, in the bed of the truck, where everyone stood and sat, the bickering, shouting, jeering, and general loud and sometimes violent merrymaking persisted. After a good round of shooting each other to hell, a lot of steam had been vented.
Did any of this change when they entered city limits? No, not really. The only change was that Taz drove at a reasonable speed, to avoid police entanglements. Other than that, this truck, and the several others that were returning from the makeshift battleground out in the boonies, were maintaining the same profile as they had. No masquerade violations here...just a bunch of guys having a good time joyriding.
Of course, that HAD to change. The sudden halting of the truck dislodged a good majority of the eight or so licks from their spots in the bed. The place became a tangle of limbs and bickering arguments, in which Sieg was unfortunately part of. A short blow to the ribs later from a prodding foot, and Sieg just decided he had endured enough.
In the driver's seat, Taz reached up and adjusted his baseball cap. The gruff anarch knew when to stay his hand, and while he had a handgun well within arm's reach, he didn't draw.
And you, sir, are standing on a rather large imprint on my '88 Ford Ranger...'n I DO hope yer gonna be a sport and pay fer the repairs...
While he may wish to blatantly harass the archon, Taz was no fool. His tones were kept neutral, and blatantly nonconfrontational.
Meanwhile, now, it looked like a full scale brawl was trying to break out in the bed of the truck. Sieg, for one, had bodily lifted one particular individual, and heaved him over the edge of the truck, despite his protests. He landed, and started swearing. Of course, he didn't draw. Not with an archon aiming guns at the truck. In fact, it looked like the brawl was dying down, once everyone had unentangled themselves and returned to their seats. Grumbles filled the air, none of them approving of the individual on the hood. Cheese, in particular, did not look pleased at all, and seemed to be trying to use the larger forms of Sieg and one of the other anarchs to hide behind.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:09 am
"That... would entirely depend on how co-operative you wish to be, son. If you're lucky, I'll pay you with your unlife."
*Theo took a single step forwards, resting his foot up on the top edge of the windscreen. The shotgun looked more menacing now, and the light of nearest streetlamp hit a second shotgun on his back, though it had been deliberately blackened.
When he next spoke, it was aimed at anyone and everyone in the bed of the truck*
"Im looking for 'Cheese'. Hand him over, and you gents can continue your night. Otherwise... Im liable to break things by accident."
*His gaze scanned over the rabble before him, sighing - most of them bore some trace of Brujah blood. He often despaired of how many of his parent clan had gone astray that he coudl have put to better use. Maybe that was why he made the next threat*
"Or prehaps you'd like me to start using your REAL name, Cheese? Quick as you like..."
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:18 am
"Aw ******** you, man!"
Of course, somebody had to open their mouth. Probably someone who knew the name in question. Frankly, it was a wonder this opinion, which seemed to be generally shared, was not being voiced louder and by more people. All eyes were on Theo, waiting for him to start shooting. Hands were near enough to weapons for an easy draw, but far enough to not appear threatening. All except for the one guy who looked like he belonged out in the countryside of an old European country, back when sacking the local peasantry was considered an acceptible pasttime. He just looked somewhat uninterested in the situation at large, though he still kept his eye on the guy with the biggest gun. Right now, that would be Theo.
Taz, diplomatic as ever, was finding the temptation to mash the gas pedal growing. The engine was still purring her soft little song, and his foot was right there...but he'd wait until the shotgun wasn't aimed at his face to do such, certainly.
Sounds like a generous offer...SIR.
The sarcasm was well noted, and the mild annoyance on his face was equally noticable. His eyes had drifted away from the shotgun, and down to the dent. From the looks of it...it would cost a pretty penny to get that one undone.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:25 am
*Taz would suddenly find the shotgun between his eyes, the second one at his chest. Theo easily holding both one handed, smiling deceptively nicely. He'd moved almost too fast to see, a master of his clans' Disciplines, plus one or two others.*
"Hey, I WORK for a living. Theo, or Archon. You know who I am."
*He said it with certainty, and well he might. This wasnt his first trip to the area, or the first time MANY of these guys would have seen of him or at least his men.*
"Let me make this a little easier for you gents. Hand over Cheese, or should I say Mr Coleridge, Mr Marcy WILLIAMS Coleridge, or I will happily continue busting up your vehicles and shoot the first one of you idiots to pull heat on me. Im faster than you and Im not alone."
*His gaze ended on Seig, interest caught by the European look. He didnt comment on it yet, but holding position as basically police among the undead, he;d be bound to pick up onit AFTER he got his man*
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