It hurts just to breathe...
It was one of those overcast days - muggy and humid, grey and still. A day that one would usually glance at wearily, sigh, and hope for a better, clearer one for the next. People usually slept in on these days or meandered about inside with little to do; the ugly, lazy days. No one liked them, nor had reason to really. Who would like a cloudy, sunless sky?
Only one of few. Only one like Sukkubus.
Her feet pounded the ground, her body doubled over as she ran determinedly towards a crumbling wall in the distance. Her muscles burned like mad from sprinting all out, and there was a painful stitch etching across her side, but she didn't dare relent. Not when there were several pursuers running just as spiritedly behind her. Her head shot up with a gasp, ears flattening as she watched the long since fallen architecture loom ever nearer. If she made it through the delapidated doorway, she would be safe. If she made it they couldn't get her.
With a loud cry, the she-devil thrust all her energy into one last step and lunged through the weather worn door, shoulder slamming into the dirt as she crashed to the ground. But her adrenaline was still coursing through her veins like molten steel, hot and slick. She leapt to her feet and threw what she was holding so tightly in her arms to the ground; it bounced once, twice, before rolling through the doorway.
And then she thrust her arms into the air and danced before her bewildered chasers.
"Tooouchdown! What now?!" She gave her most vulpine grin before waltzing from the wreckage like a delighted drunkard, kicking the fallen football as she went. There was stretch of tired silence as both small teams attempted to recapture their breath, having spent it all on either chasing the she-devil or blocking the others from getting to her. A squeal pierced the air, which shattered the complacent silence and marked the end of the ragged panting.
"'Ey, Nat! We won! Nyaa!" a blonde child gushed delightedly, chubby arms wrapping around the salmon-haired boy's neck as he more or less threw himself upon him. Nathaniel, on the other hand, tried in vain to push Ruka away; after several fruitless attempts he stopped, sighing and patting the little boy awkwardly on the back.
"Only for this round, Ruka. Uh, part. Half...quarter," Nathaniel tried to explain, though failing miserably. Ask him about magic spells, potions, summonings and he could answer you like it was all he was a computer programmed to do it. But sports...ha. Right.
"Told ya...even with two kids on my team I'd still kick your asses!" Sukkubus was still grinning, even if her hair was wind swept and her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She bent over and rested her hands upon her knees, a look of tired delight etched across her features.
"You got, lucky. That's all," came the flat, thoroughly disappointed voice of Diego. Looking towards the dark skinned dog-boy, Sukku brought a finger to her bottom most eyelid, pulled it down, and blew a raspberry his way. His upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, and were he not in the presence of his baby sister, he would've gone up and socked her in the gut. Just because she had their adoption papers didn't mean he wanted to be with living under the same roof as the she-devil.
"Mm, I don't know about that. Sukkubus has always been quite good at football; soccer, too." Diego's eyes shot towards a young priest clad not in heavy robes, but a standard, collared, black suit.
His so called 'mother' had decided to drag what children were in the house outside for an untimely outing. Momo hadn't been home for some time now, Tomoyo was busy with Damien (and perhaps Adghal), Emma was either holding fort or at the park with Prem, and Ritsu, although not a child, had wanted to sleep in that day; but everyone knew he just wanted a day of freedom from Sukkubus. So being one of the few awake, Diego had been hauled out of the house all but kicking and screaming, and out into the boonies. To meet a priest. What relation a holy man had to a devil, he didn't know; Father Elliot James must have been some sort of saint to be able to sit well with Sukkubus. And Sukkubus...he looked over at her and caught her beaming delightedly at the priest.
There was something he was missing; most definately.
"Butch."
"b*****d."
"b***h."
"Yes, well, now that you two have demonstrated what words fall under the letter B...shall we continue?" Out of the lot, Father James looked the least affected by the running - whilst everyone seemed to have lost five pounds worth of sweat, he had barely begun to break into one. The muggy weather was bearing down hard on their game, so many of them ended up much more tired than they should have been. Surprisingly enough, Dante seemed the most upbeat next to the priest, hair pulled tightly away from her face, her lips curled into a gentle smile.
And so, silenced by Elliot and with no further delays, the six players lined up once more for another game.
A roll of thunder managed to drown out the play's call, so if someone was watching, it seemed absolutely spontaneous when the group of six ran at one another, partaking in a modern day jousting match. Sukku, who had started out with the ball, had thrown it to Ruka, who was hovering a hair's breath over the earth. Good call, he was a spazz on the field. With a loud giggle, the boy zipped between Father James's ankles like an overgrown dragonfly. Cruising upside down and tilting his head up, he waved rather mockingly at Diego, who was chasing after him like hell was on his heels.
There was a rule about flying, though. Take pilots for instance. When flying an airplane it is mandatory to keep your eyes on the sky. One false move could spell a disaster for the passengers, right? Same goes for a helicopter. Eyes before you, hands on the stick. Be it a machine you're piloting or your own body, one must always keep their eyes ahead of them.
Ruka was only five-years-old when he got into his first accident.
Big mess. Just as the cherub had lifted his head to once more set his eyes upon the goal, he had crashed head first into Dante's ankles, flipping her with a scream. Diego, who had been gaining on them, tripped over his sister's prone form, staggered, and caught himself to stare wide-eyed at the situation. Everyone skidded to a halt, Nathaniel crashing into the Father's legs, and Sukkubus - who had been farther up ahead - standing there aghast. It was clear she hadn't been the only one to hear a crack.
"What the <********> did you do to her?!" Diego cried, whipping around to snatch the little boy out of the air; he shook him violently, sapphire eyes blazing with rage. Sukkubus snapped from her reverie and rushed forward, yanking a sobbing and terrified Ruka from the dogboy's grasp.
"Are you alright?"
"My...my ankle. I think it's broken," Dante gasped, pulling herself into a sitting position as she hovered over her leg.
Reaching forward, Father James touched the girl's swelling ankle gingerly, right before sweeping her up and turning to the quarreling pair.
"Stop scaring him!"
"Someone's gotta scare SOMETHING into that dumbass head of his!"
"Please...you two. Mother, Diego..." Nathaniel clapped his hands over his pointed ears and whimpered piteously. He loved Sukkubus and held Diego in high regards. Why did they have to fight? They hadn't fought so furiously in a long time...it was breaking his heart.
"Look, both of you! The faster we get her inside, the faster we can get her healed. Your fighting isn't going to bandage her up," Elliot cut in firmly, holding the pallid doggirl against him. Without their consent, he turned and began sprinting across the flat towards the church. After a tense moment, heated glares sparking, Sukkubus shifted the sobbing Ruka and grabbed Nathaniel's hand.
"Don't you ever pull that stunt again." The she-devil spoke in dangerously low tones, voice nearing a feral snarl as she turned away from Diego. He grunted carelessly and began running towards the church, Sukkubus on his heels.
Father James had already placed Dante on a pew and had a first kit aid open by the time a furious Diego, quiet Nathaniel, and snivvling Ruka filed in; they began to hover worriedly around her, eyes wide.
"Dante...Danny," her brother uttered, kneeling next to her and pushing her hair from her face. Being uncharacteristically tender, he leaned forward and pressed his nose against the line of her bangs, eyes shutting. A curse left his scowling lips. The elven child was busy trying to comfort his younger brother, who was sobbing out apologies and shaking. And through all of this, Sukku was nowhere to be found. Where was she in her children's time of need? Father James seemed to have forgotten she was a devil.
And devils can't enter holy sanctuaries.
She never said anything from where she stood, tipping precariously against the doorway. How could he forget? The barest touches of dejection licked her insides, pulling her brows down over her baleful eyes. This was no time to feel sorry for herself, but it was also no time to allow Lucifel to invade her thoughts; he was there. He need not speak for her to know.
Hurts, doesn't it?
One hand lifted to her head, teeth grinding.
To be left alone. Forgotten.
A chuckle from her own lips, belonging to a being on a completely different plain.
Oh my, would you look at that, dear? Oh, won't you? Fine, I'll show you.
Her neck craned upwards painfully, eyes peeling open to spot the sight before her. Delicate fingers were carefully handling her adopted daughter's ankle, smoothing a roll of gauze over her leg. Precise, gentle. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the scene of Father James smiling at Dante, and in return Dante laughed, the pain easing from her face. Something disgusting burst through a dam in Sukkubus's heart, something furious, something dark. Her breath came in sharp rasps and unbeknowest to her, her eyes flared to life with jealous anger.
Jealousy, so pure and retched and dispicable.
So beautiful...
Tearing away from the door, the she-devil stumbled along the side of the church, trying to gather her wits through her white-hot rage. She managed to make it to the far side of the building before collapsing into a pitiful heap, arms lacing around her abdomen as though in pain. She retched. Again and again. How dirty jealousy made her feel! How unworthy of this earth, of the luck she had garnered. Selfish, beastial jealousy!
Look at yourself, my sweet.
Her head turned to stare blind eyed at the stained glass window before her.
You look lovely. Her reflection, broken by the myriad of colors and distorted glass pieces spoke to her, wicked smile upon her borrowed lips. You really should come back to me...you're a hazard to yourself. You can never live with real people. Too dangerous. Didn't I warn you? You'll never fit in --
With a sound between a snarl and a sob, Sukkubus raised her fist and smashed the glass, taking pleasure how it tore through her skin. Blood. Red blood. Warm blood. She grabbed the wire holding the bottom of the mosaic up, twisting it with an animal's strength and yanking it visciously from the moulding. Rain began to patter against the rooftop, sprinkling over her fetal positioned form that lie panting on the ground. Wounded, inside and out. She dropped the metal that had begun to melt within her clenched palm and slammed her fists against the ground, a roll of thunder covering her meek cry of pain. She hated herself. She hated herself! How could she be so selfish?
She pressed her head against the moist earth, allowing the rainfall to cool her heated body. Her fingers reached forward and clenched the fallen pieces of glass, allowing them to bite into the skin. The delicious pain told her she was alive. Alive. She shouldn't be! Not here...a moan. Lifting her head, Sukkubus gazed angrily at the scattered glass before her. And amongst them one did lie - though never had it been part of the saintly mosaic - so very innocently, reflecting the dying light in her eyes.
Ugly eyes. Envious eyes.
She touched the glass and curled her bleeding fist around it, dragging it beneath her body. It was a testament to what she had done, what she had felt. It alone saw the black, cancerous bitterness within her heart. That acrid miasma that seeped through her veins. What a vile being...envious being.
Anger tightened her chest. Drawing herself upwards and tilting her head back to the blackened skies, she sobbed. For now she would let the heavens cry for her pitiful self, for she could not.
But tonight she would cry. And so be it if she had to tear herself open to do so.
Only one of few. Only one like Sukkubus.
Her feet pounded the ground, her body doubled over as she ran determinedly towards a crumbling wall in the distance. Her muscles burned like mad from sprinting all out, and there was a painful stitch etching across her side, but she didn't dare relent. Not when there were several pursuers running just as spiritedly behind her. Her head shot up with a gasp, ears flattening as she watched the long since fallen architecture loom ever nearer. If she made it through the delapidated doorway, she would be safe. If she made it they couldn't get her.
With a loud cry, the she-devil thrust all her energy into one last step and lunged through the weather worn door, shoulder slamming into the dirt as she crashed to the ground. But her adrenaline was still coursing through her veins like molten steel, hot and slick. She leapt to her feet and threw what she was holding so tightly in her arms to the ground; it bounced once, twice, before rolling through the doorway.
And then she thrust her arms into the air and danced before her bewildered chasers.
"Tooouchdown! What now?!" She gave her most vulpine grin before waltzing from the wreckage like a delighted drunkard, kicking the fallen football as she went. There was stretch of tired silence as both small teams attempted to recapture their breath, having spent it all on either chasing the she-devil or blocking the others from getting to her. A squeal pierced the air, which shattered the complacent silence and marked the end of the ragged panting.
"'Ey, Nat! We won! Nyaa!" a blonde child gushed delightedly, chubby arms wrapping around the salmon-haired boy's neck as he more or less threw himself upon him. Nathaniel, on the other hand, tried in vain to push Ruka away; after several fruitless attempts he stopped, sighing and patting the little boy awkwardly on the back.
"Only for this round, Ruka. Uh, part. Half...quarter," Nathaniel tried to explain, though failing miserably. Ask him about magic spells, potions, summonings and he could answer you like it was all he was a computer programmed to do it. But sports...ha. Right.
"Told ya...even with two kids on my team I'd still kick your asses!" Sukkubus was still grinning, even if her hair was wind swept and her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She bent over and rested her hands upon her knees, a look of tired delight etched across her features.
"You got, lucky. That's all," came the flat, thoroughly disappointed voice of Diego. Looking towards the dark skinned dog-boy, Sukku brought a finger to her bottom most eyelid, pulled it down, and blew a raspberry his way. His upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, and were he not in the presence of his baby sister, he would've gone up and socked her in the gut. Just because she had their adoption papers didn't mean he wanted to be with living under the same roof as the she-devil.
"Mm, I don't know about that. Sukkubus has always been quite good at football; soccer, too." Diego's eyes shot towards a young priest clad not in heavy robes, but a standard, collared, black suit.
His so called 'mother' had decided to drag what children were in the house outside for an untimely outing. Momo hadn't been home for some time now, Tomoyo was busy with Damien (and perhaps Adghal), Emma was either holding fort or at the park with Prem, and Ritsu, although not a child, had wanted to sleep in that day; but everyone knew he just wanted a day of freedom from Sukkubus. So being one of the few awake, Diego had been hauled out of the house all but kicking and screaming, and out into the boonies. To meet a priest. What relation a holy man had to a devil, he didn't know; Father Elliot James must have been some sort of saint to be able to sit well with Sukkubus. And Sukkubus...he looked over at her and caught her beaming delightedly at the priest.
There was something he was missing; most definately.
"Butch."
"b*****d."
"b***h."
"Yes, well, now that you two have demonstrated what words fall under the letter B...shall we continue?" Out of the lot, Father James looked the least affected by the running - whilst everyone seemed to have lost five pounds worth of sweat, he had barely begun to break into one. The muggy weather was bearing down hard on their game, so many of them ended up much more tired than they should have been. Surprisingly enough, Dante seemed the most upbeat next to the priest, hair pulled tightly away from her face, her lips curled into a gentle smile.
And so, silenced by Elliot and with no further delays, the six players lined up once more for another game.
A roll of thunder managed to drown out the play's call, so if someone was watching, it seemed absolutely spontaneous when the group of six ran at one another, partaking in a modern day jousting match. Sukku, who had started out with the ball, had thrown it to Ruka, who was hovering a hair's breath over the earth. Good call, he was a spazz on the field. With a loud giggle, the boy zipped between Father James's ankles like an overgrown dragonfly. Cruising upside down and tilting his head up, he waved rather mockingly at Diego, who was chasing after him like hell was on his heels.
There was a rule about flying, though. Take pilots for instance. When flying an airplane it is mandatory to keep your eyes on the sky. One false move could spell a disaster for the passengers, right? Same goes for a helicopter. Eyes before you, hands on the stick. Be it a machine you're piloting or your own body, one must always keep their eyes ahead of them.
Ruka was only five-years-old when he got into his first accident.
Big mess. Just as the cherub had lifted his head to once more set his eyes upon the goal, he had crashed head first into Dante's ankles, flipping her with a scream. Diego, who had been gaining on them, tripped over his sister's prone form, staggered, and caught himself to stare wide-eyed at the situation. Everyone skidded to a halt, Nathaniel crashing into the Father's legs, and Sukkubus - who had been farther up ahead - standing there aghast. It was clear she hadn't been the only one to hear a crack.
"What the <********> did you do to her?!" Diego cried, whipping around to snatch the little boy out of the air; he shook him violently, sapphire eyes blazing with rage. Sukkubus snapped from her reverie and rushed forward, yanking a sobbing and terrified Ruka from the dogboy's grasp.
"Are you alright?"
"My...my ankle. I think it's broken," Dante gasped, pulling herself into a sitting position as she hovered over her leg.
Reaching forward, Father James touched the girl's swelling ankle gingerly, right before sweeping her up and turning to the quarreling pair.
"Stop scaring him!"
"Someone's gotta scare SOMETHING into that dumbass head of his!"
"Please...you two. Mother, Diego..." Nathaniel clapped his hands over his pointed ears and whimpered piteously. He loved Sukkubus and held Diego in high regards. Why did they have to fight? They hadn't fought so furiously in a long time...it was breaking his heart.
"Look, both of you! The faster we get her inside, the faster we can get her healed. Your fighting isn't going to bandage her up," Elliot cut in firmly, holding the pallid doggirl against him. Without their consent, he turned and began sprinting across the flat towards the church. After a tense moment, heated glares sparking, Sukkubus shifted the sobbing Ruka and grabbed Nathaniel's hand.
"Don't you ever pull that stunt again." The she-devil spoke in dangerously low tones, voice nearing a feral snarl as she turned away from Diego. He grunted carelessly and began running towards the church, Sukkubus on his heels.
Father James had already placed Dante on a pew and had a first kit aid open by the time a furious Diego, quiet Nathaniel, and snivvling Ruka filed in; they began to hover worriedly around her, eyes wide.
"Dante...Danny," her brother uttered, kneeling next to her and pushing her hair from her face. Being uncharacteristically tender, he leaned forward and pressed his nose against the line of her bangs, eyes shutting. A curse left his scowling lips. The elven child was busy trying to comfort his younger brother, who was sobbing out apologies and shaking. And through all of this, Sukku was nowhere to be found. Where was she in her children's time of need? Father James seemed to have forgotten she was a devil.
And devils can't enter holy sanctuaries.
She never said anything from where she stood, tipping precariously against the doorway. How could he forget? The barest touches of dejection licked her insides, pulling her brows down over her baleful eyes. This was no time to feel sorry for herself, but it was also no time to allow Lucifel to invade her thoughts; he was there. He need not speak for her to know.
Hurts, doesn't it?
One hand lifted to her head, teeth grinding.
To be left alone. Forgotten.
A chuckle from her own lips, belonging to a being on a completely different plain.
Oh my, would you look at that, dear? Oh, won't you? Fine, I'll show you.
Her neck craned upwards painfully, eyes peeling open to spot the sight before her. Delicate fingers were carefully handling her adopted daughter's ankle, smoothing a roll of gauze over her leg. Precise, gentle. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the scene of Father James smiling at Dante, and in return Dante laughed, the pain easing from her face. Something disgusting burst through a dam in Sukkubus's heart, something furious, something dark. Her breath came in sharp rasps and unbeknowest to her, her eyes flared to life with jealous anger.
Jealousy, so pure and retched and dispicable.
So beautiful...
Tearing away from the door, the she-devil stumbled along the side of the church, trying to gather her wits through her white-hot rage. She managed to make it to the far side of the building before collapsing into a pitiful heap, arms lacing around her abdomen as though in pain. She retched. Again and again. How dirty jealousy made her feel! How unworthy of this earth, of the luck she had garnered. Selfish, beastial jealousy!
Look at yourself, my sweet.
Her head turned to stare blind eyed at the stained glass window before her.
You look lovely. Her reflection, broken by the myriad of colors and distorted glass pieces spoke to her, wicked smile upon her borrowed lips. You really should come back to me...you're a hazard to yourself. You can never live with real people. Too dangerous. Didn't I warn you? You'll never fit in --
With a sound between a snarl and a sob, Sukkubus raised her fist and smashed the glass, taking pleasure how it tore through her skin. Blood. Red blood. Warm blood. She grabbed the wire holding the bottom of the mosaic up, twisting it with an animal's strength and yanking it visciously from the moulding. Rain began to patter against the rooftop, sprinkling over her fetal positioned form that lie panting on the ground. Wounded, inside and out. She dropped the metal that had begun to melt within her clenched palm and slammed her fists against the ground, a roll of thunder covering her meek cry of pain. She hated herself. She hated herself! How could she be so selfish?
She pressed her head against the moist earth, allowing the rainfall to cool her heated body. Her fingers reached forward and clenched the fallen pieces of glass, allowing them to bite into the skin. The delicious pain told her she was alive. Alive. She shouldn't be! Not here...a moan. Lifting her head, Sukkubus gazed angrily at the scattered glass before her. And amongst them one did lie - though never had it been part of the saintly mosaic - so very innocently, reflecting the dying light in her eyes.
Ugly eyes. Envious eyes.
She touched the glass and curled her bleeding fist around it, dragging it beneath her body. It was a testament to what she had done, what she had felt. It alone saw the black, cancerous bitterness within her heart. That acrid miasma that seeped through her veins. What a vile being...envious being.
Anger tightened her chest. Drawing herself upwards and tilting her head back to the blackened skies, she sobbed. For now she would let the heavens cry for her pitiful self, for she could not.
But tonight she would cry. And so be it if she had to tear herself open to do so.
