[Blood Vanguard] 1950/2400 6/8 The blood vanguard ran forth the moment Kumori was hit backward. It used its superior speed to not only dodge but make it to the shade before he could properly recover. The BV charged its scythe with energy and created a second one for its other hand. This time it attacked from two different directions. The two scythes would aim both high and low for Kumori's body, both charged with energy.
Techniques Used
Phantom Blade Rank: C-S Description: The user creates a blade of energy that mimics one of their choosing. This does not copy special abilities, only shapes. This energy weapon acts as both a normal blade, and an energy attack, so it damages creatures/species damaged by energy. Note: Higher ranks of energy give the phantom weapon additional strength. The energy expended gives it strength correspondent to the strongest material that a user of a rank can use - IE C rank gives a weapon equal in strength to the toughest metal that an Adept can use, going on up. Phantom Weapon only lasts for five posts. Phantom Weapon literally creates an energy version of a weapon of their choosing. This gives them a second sword, dagger, hand-ax, whatever they might use. This weapon is treated identical to a normal one, meaning a sword created by the Phantom Weapon technique can be used to perform any sword-based techniques that the wielder knows. If used to create a copy of a "Heavy" weapon, the user is required to know Heavy Dual-Wielding to use the copy.
KnightsRoyal
Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2014 10:28 pm
Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗
The beast came charging into the unlit area, after Kumori who seemed a bit too eager to see the creature come by. With it's intense speed, it was capable of keeping up with a flying Kumori, but when it created it's weapons for death, Kumori released his rapier as it stabbed into a tree and was quick enough to bring out Miza into his hands. It struck both of the weapons at the same time he tried to strike, soon bringing Kumori and the creature to a standing halt. "Did you miss me?" Kumori asked the beast as they were in the thick woods, darkness surrounding them as Miza had it's own terrible glow. He soon attempted to force the beast back with the Greatsword's own ranged technique, an Energy Slash. With how everything was, this wave would've cut through the entire creature, heart included.
(Techniques: Energy Slash (B )(After focusing energy into their sword the user will then make one large slash and send a large wave of energy out in a crescent shape. this wave of energy has the cutting power to easily cut through a brick wall.)) Always Active Skills: V-Sensory Main Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier + Stainless Steel Shield Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Katana, Miza, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Energy: 550/900 Strength: 9 Speed: 6 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
[Blood Vanguard] 1950/2400 6/8 The demon had not expected the sudden burst of speed and strength. The thing pierced right through his heart, causing it to release a deadly shriek before exploding into more blood. Now that the fight was over, Kumori still had to find the person who created it.
Techniques Used
KnightsRoyal
Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2014 7:04 am
Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗
Kumori looked around once more, covered in the Demon's blood before he moved forward, going back to the rune that summoned the creature. He quickly made sure to mess up the rune so another one won't come on through. "Alright, whoever you are... COME OUT NOW OR I WILL FIND YOU!" He shouted as He had managed to retrieve his rapier, Miza on his back once more.
(Techniques: ) Always Active Skills: V-Sensory Main Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier + Stainless Steel Shield Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Katana, Miza, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Energy: 575/900 Strength: 9 Speed: 6 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
[Blood Vanguard] No one answered Kumori. Only the wind whistled out across the lake. The only clue was the blood trail from the rune.
KnightsRoyal
Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2014 2:04 pm
Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗
Kumori noticed the trail of blood, grinning as he began to follow it through the snowy ground as he felt his energy recover at a slow rate. The rapier had it's own glow of energy, as did his shield while he traversed, following the trail.
(Techniques: ) Always Active Skills: V-Sensory Main Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier + Stainless Steel Shield Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Katana, Miza, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Energy:600/900 Strength: 9 Speed: 6 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
It felt like a long weekend had passed by when it was only a few grueling cold hours. Kumori had spent his time hunting down the blood mage who wasn't that far away. Since they had to use some blood and plenty of energy to conjure the demon that had attacked him. After locating the mage, it didn't take long for Kumori to subdue him, place him onto a few receiving ends of his scythe blades, dismembering the mage to leave him in only his torso and head. After some, rather lasting torture sessions in the cold, Kumori got the mage to talk and tell him of something to beware. In the near future, that mage's master would come for the souls of the residents in Nocturne. This only made Kumori laugh before he summoned his greatsword Miza and cut the man's head in two. His mission was done, Kumori had looted the body for (Insert Reward in here) and departed back for Nocturne.
(Exits through three different areas yadda yadda.) (Techniques: ) Always Active Skills: V-Sensory Main Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier + Stainless Steel Shield Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Katana, Miza, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Energy:600/900 Strength: 9 Speed: 6 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
xxxCHARLIEs circled around the six-foot-eight-inch demon in a group. There were a total of seven of these things. None of them were particularly threatening on their own, but many did see CHARLIEs as dangerous when in large numbers. The demon they were circling, however, didn't care how many of them there were. As GILGAMESH stood still, dark energy flooded his body and expanded outward. His presence was terrifying the small creatures around him. Little did they know of what was to come from the dark energy gathering. [1]
xxxThe CHARLIEs continued to circle for another minute or so before one of them initiated an attack, leading the rest of them into the attack as well. When they came in, they slash their claws violently at the demon's armor, but were to no avail of even pulling a reaction out of GILGAMESH, whom simply remained still and stoic. One of the CHARLIEs bit down on a gap in the armor, teeth piercing down and hitting the demon's skin. The small creatures shrieked in a sharp pain. GILGAMESH's skin was just as tough as the armor he wore. The demon was still gathering energy at this point. Wispy, nigh-black, violet energy licked the bodies of the CHARLIEs as it flickered off of the demon's body. The energy didn't hurt the creatures, but it certainly gave them quite a scare. [2]
xxxThe CHARLIEs were now the ones in fear of their opponent, them ending their efforts to intimidate GILGAMESH with their numbers. Now, they kept distance from the demon. They let out barks and and growls as their only known plan of action for this situation. To their knowledge, GILGAMESH was not acting as a dangerous threat, but he was still gathering energy, creating an overwhelming presence that the CHARLIEs couldn't handle quite that well. GILGAMESH still stood perfectly still, only observing the small creatures as he continued to gather the last bits of remaining energy that were needed for what he wanted to do. [3]
xxxThe CHARLIEs were fed up with waiting for him to make a move and went in one last time to attack, hopefully to do something to this demon. However, with GILGAMESH just now gathering enough energy, it would be their last time doing anything to him or anything else. As they leaped towards him, GILGAMESH let out a roar, flexed his muscles and push the dark energy out of his body in an explosive wave of black flames that charred and seared the skin of the CHARLIEs. The small creatures were thrown back and landed on the ground, in extreme pain and still burning from the demonic fire that now plagued them. One of the CHARLIEs actually didn't get burned enough to die from this, as the rest of them will in a matter of moments. GILGAMESH now turned his attention to this one. [4 - Hell's Ramparts]
xxxThe large demon walked up to this one CHARLIE and booted it in the face, sending it flying a few yards away and landing on the hard ground. It was too badly injured to escape GILGAMESH's brutality at this point. The giant demon crouched down next to this small beast and grabbed it by the throat. GILGAMESH did not speak. He didn't even feel anything about this whole event. It wasn't even understood for him, but he only felt as if he needed to end these creatures' lives. GILGAMESH pushed the thing's head flat against the ground with mild force and then stood up. The long, demonic, seemingly draconic, tail whipped around the demon's body and then slapped down on top of the CHARLIE, holding it down for a moment. [1]
xxxThe demon's tail lifted off of the beast and then was made to begin slashing like a blade along the back of the CHARLIE. Up, down, diagonally upward left, etc. It continued to slash until, once it stopped, a pentagram was engraved into the burnt monster's charred flesh and muscles. GILGAMESH would walk away from this and leave the corpses strewn about the place. He had no interest in doing anything with them, nor did he want to bother cleaning this mess. Instead, he wanted to continue hunting before he met with his brother again. [2 - Mark of Satan - Baphomet]
[Exit]
Learning
Hell's RampartsC At useful technique for offensive and defensive means. The Diabolus will load his energy, takes a post, and blast it out from his body. This, however, is a blast which results in a wide radius of demonic, black flames produced of dark energy. This results in a much stronger attack (B-Ranked Str.) and sends flames soaring out and about for five meters.
Mark of Satan - BaphometD A brutal combo of an onslaught of slashes delivered by the tail. Like a blade whip the tail strikes the torso or back of the opponent. The tail then begins to embark upon a mass slashing that, when done, reveals the creation of an upside down Pentagram upon the body of the opponent.
Soren stood looking out over the frozen expanse of the lake. Silence pervaded the area. It was a silence that he was perfectly fine with. His life had been filled with constant noise and turmoil for months. It was turmoil that had helped him grow in many ways but nonetheless it was good to escape it sometimes. Leaning back he cast his gaze upward into the night sky contemplating on the mysteries of the stars. As much as he wanted to push away the troublesome thoughts that were pushing their way into his forward consciousness he simply couldn’t.
“Six months.” A sigh escaped him. It had been six months since Luimira City and the High Moon Casino. It had been six months since he decided it was time for him to step out and forage into the world on his own. He had left West without a word. He had stepped away as quietly as he could manage. Part of him wondered if it had left an impression on the Incubus. The larger, more rational part of him was situated on the fact that the aloof man likely hadn’t cared. Soren’s departure had likely been about as impactful as a gnat’s buzzing was to a horse. Small and insignificant.
There was a time when Soren might have felt a little dismayed or disheartened by that. No more. In the span of a lifetime six months wasn’t all that long but it was long enough. From the heights of Pronta City back to the depths of Aramil, Soren had been traveling and his view on the world had become less naïve and more grounded. He was far less nervous. He was far less concerned about pissing others off. The world was a place where you either lived or you died. He wouldn’t live forever so it would just be a matter of whether he lived free or he died in misery. All the same he couldn’t help but wonder where his former sovereign was.
Soren brought up a hand to his mouth letting out a breath to cascade over his palm. Frost misted in the air before swirling in the center of his palm. Without much more effort he solidified that frost into a shard of ice. Within the center of that shard he projected an image of what he last recalled West looking like. Slowly he rotated the shard in his hand observing the man from different angles. After a minute of reflection he reduced the ice shard to powdery snow that he sent drifting into the wind.
“So, Soren, where are you going from here?” He had just traveled from Kusana City which had been quite a journey in regards to where Nocturne was located. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d journeyed to Nocturne. Perhaps he’d wanted to journey back to where his venture had begun? Regardless, he was in Nocturne again. He needed to figure out what to do with himself. Maybe he would stay a while? Maybe he would go back to that darn casino and see what mayhem West had wrought after he’d left? It probably hadn’t changed in the slightest. West hadn’t been one to cause random death and destruction and with the tense atmosphere in the world, Fronta looking to crusade against Aramil, that wouldn’t have been the wisest of decisions.
For the time being, Soren would enjoy himself in Nocturne as much as he could before he resumed his travels. Wherever those took him and to what ends he didn’t really care. Taking a deep breath he sat up straight, folded his legs beneath him and adopted a meditative pose. If he was going to figure something out it would probably help if he cleared his head first.
Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 7:43 am
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CHAMPION OF ANTONY
The moon, Raphael, is a collection of energy. It is made solid by energy, made alive by energy. It is given life by Justor, one of God's greatest angels. And yet the demons would see it as their own symbol, a representation of Kala's will. He remembered words taught to him a long time ago. Back when he was still learning, still adventuring, still loving. It was before Mister Jonathon Leislex had died, and left Raphael half the man that he was. It was far before the days of West and the Aramilian Empire. He was reminded of these thoughts by the specter that loomed over him, the mass of white and light known to him as the moon, as Justor.
West had been exploring the countryside, though he didn't expect to for long. It was nothing but tundra, dirt and ice. The people were what enflamed Nocturne. Every savage he encountered on the road east, every man wielding axe with no cloth to cover him became a waystone for West's journey. He remembered each and every one of them and they only grew more wild and savage the further he went. The Fairhairs stretched from Luimiria to the land looming over Val'Ghast. They lived in cold and ice, blizzard and storm all day for eternities come. The ones away from the city were truly marvels to behold. They were constantly fighting for their lives.
West was royalty to many, claimed to be of noble blood. He was raised in a rich estate with each of his needs seen to. For his entire life, war and bloodshed seemed so foreign until it was up against his skin. In Nocturne things were different. Murder was the way of life. He could not walk for one mile without witnessing a battle, a raid, watching women wearing collars fleeing for their lives in the cold. Watching vampires and lycans dispute. Watching rabid supernaturals ******** to their heart's content. It was truly an entirely new world, and one that he desperately looked to be a part of. And yet he could not, he could only stand back and stare. He was different than all of them, he was Emperor West. He was a demon, not a man. He could never be a part of these people and their culture. He was above them, or so he imagined with the slightest desire for reasoning.
Still, he did lay with them. As eve came across, nothing really changed in Nocturne. The moon was full all the time, and it was present all the time. His coming to a Fairhair village was veiled by the blackened sky, but not for long. When he came into their abode, with the blizzard no longer snuffing out his scent, they all knew what he was: Desire Demon, something beyond an Incubus. He was crowded with warriors that sought his flesh, and so they had it. West grinned at the first Fairhair he saw and ran his infinite desires dry through the night. And then more came to him, and he enjoyed each and every one of them. He spoke to them in Demonica, and learned of their names. So crude, so brutal sounding. He told them his name: West. They did not know it. They were disconnected from the rest of the world. They lived in huts and refrained from the technology of the west. That was what made them rather unique.
Of course, he would eventually leave this tribe in favor of visiting more. Larger ones, like Vak Stenva, the home of Lycan heritage and the "capital" of their lands. There were thousands there, and they were wilder and more husk than all others around them. He continued on, covered in attire to protect him from the cold, riding a bike that could maneuver even the harshest conditions. It didn't matter though. He was a demon. The cold could not kill him, starvation could not weaken him, sleep could not deprave him. He was free to continue on and on until eventually his curiosities were cleared and he could face a return home.
But then, one great curiosity rose to the east as he left a fur-paneled gate and looked down to the direction in front of him. An energy that he remembered, one that he let slip away when it desired to, a long time ago. Soren's, a man who was nothing if not a prude. But West enjoyed his attention, his presence. He wondered for a while why it decided to evade him. But he never bothered to search.
Now that the man was essentially in plain sight, he decided that he would pursue. He stepped off the bike and held his palm out, slightly, a magical door appearing before him. When he stepped through, he would stand before the man, staring into his eyes. Though West was not so easy to distinguish, at the moment, covered in clothes meant for the harshest of weather.
He tried to speak, but his voice was softened into a blank by the crashing winds and the snow. His words fell weakened, so he resorted to yelling. "What are you doing in a place like this?" He asked loudly, though only enough to hear. "You're a human. Your kind can easily die to the cold." He moved closer, to make himself easier to hear. He felt a slight amount of body warmth from the other man against his face. It felt monumentally relieving as compared to normal. "Do you remember me?" He asked. If his face was not recognizable, then at least his voice must have been. If the man could even hear it.
Soren’s reprieve from the noise of civilization was rudely interrupted by the appearance of…a man. He blinked at the man shouting over the winds. It was true that it was cold. It was true that if left out in the harshness of the elements he could die from them. He wasn’t nearing that point though. He was dressed appropriately for the weather with a heavy coat, travel gear in a pack not more than a few inches away, insulated boots to keep his feet from being frostbitten and gloves. The man was right though, too long in the cold and he would die. Soren hadn’t been there that long though. He opened his eyes looking up at the towering figure in front of him.
“Well, I was trying to clear my head before I ran headlong into the den of debauchery!” Luimira City that was. He was still a good distance away from the capital of Nocturne but getting back into the midst of such a cacophony took a little preparation. Soren wasn’t as uptight as he once was but he still wasn’t overly fond of people.
“Thank you though, for pointing out the obvious.” Soren leaned back away from the man invading his personal space. He nearly called on some of his unseen skills to get himself ready for a confrontation but then came the question. Did he remember him? This unrecognizable man swathed in cold gear that suddenly appeared out of nowhere? Nope. He didn’t remember him in the—
Something struck a chord in Soren’s memory. The man’s voice. He knew that voice. Deciding to forgo his usual decision to maintain somewhat of a distance from strangers, Soren stood up. People unaccustomed to travel might have been hindered by the weight of travel gear. Soren however, stood up rather fluidly. It was relatively swift as far as humans were concerned. In short order he was staring curiously into the stranger’s eyes. They were a warm brown that lulled him into a sense of ease. There was a depth to those eyes that told Soren this was a man who had seen much and it had taken its toll upon him. There was something more to them though. If not for the man’s voice and the dim familiarity in the depths of his eyes there was certainly a feeling he gave off.
“No. What are the odds? The gods really can’t be so bored as to have us bump into one another…could they?” The irony of it struck Soren as mildly amusing. Still, he tentatively reached out and placed a gloved hand on the man’s shoulder drawing him closer. At that moment there was no mistaking him.
“West.” Soren whispered it. Whether the other man heard him or not he didn’t much care. Giving a firm nod he locked eyes with the man. Several emotions went through Soren right then. Shame. Embarrassment. Panic. A few minutes ago he thought he wouldn’t care what West thought or felt if they ever met up again. Well, the gods in their wisdom…and humor….decided to put that to the test. Soren was none of the things he’d thought he’d be. At least he didn’t stammer and trip over himself. That was a plus. Shaking those things off he fixed the tall man with a stare.
“I remember you. Relax, by the way, I’m on my way to Luimira. Just decided to make a pit stop and admire the scenery is all.” That sounded completely lame in terms of an explanation as to what he was doing. Nevertheless Soren shrugged his shoulders. He leaned down, grabbed his travel gear hefting it up over his shoulders along with what looked to be a fallen tree branch fashioned into a walking stick and gave West a nod.
“I could ask you the same question though. What are you doing out here?”
Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 2:20 pm
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CHAMPION OF ANTONY
West cracked a smile, though it was somewhat concealed by the thick wind and the heavy attire. He smiled because Soren was as he remembered him to be, although there were parts of him that were different. He matured some, changed in a way that West enjoyed, he thought. He was a new man, but he still held the same spirit. He was still just learning, walking into a whole new world. West on the other hand was so weathered. If he was a mortal man he would already have begun to grey from all of the stress and the weight that he'd held across the years. He enjoyed innocence, however fleeting. Soren still had some left. He could see it in his eyes.
"The fact that you're human isn't obvious. There's so subtle a difference between this race and that race. Many have mistaken me for quite a few things that I'm not. I only know what you are because I know who you are." The distance closed some more, and he found Soren staring deeply into his eyes, a sort of sun-bound color meeting the human's blue. As the moments passed, he seemed to be thinking more and more intently about something, or someone. It wasn't exactly a mystery who that someone might be. And when the word escaped his lips, the name, West - well, the demon seemed very enthused. He cracked another smile, this one not so subtle and difficult to tell from the cold winds and the heavy clothing. It was a vibrant one, one that a man like him rarely made. "Soren," he said. As the man called the demon's name, he called the name of the man.
He became more invested into the moment, his thoughts directed at the mage and what he might be thinking. He also wondered some other strange things that a man like him only couldn't help but wonder. He wondered if, along with the semblance of his innocence left, if Soren kept his chastity. He wondered if the man considered himself still a part of Aramil. He wondered if the held West in high regard or low. He resolved to answer these questions, now or some time after this moment. As he pondered some, though, his thoughts were interrupted. He asked: what was West doing out here? All the way out here, all the way to the north of his rather large island that he considered home. Northwest of the coast of Kevai, a land that he had grown fond to. Why did he always choose Nocturne when he wanted to escape himself? His duty?
"Go West. That's what Lukhan told me when I first emerged from my... change. At first I didn't understand, but after not-so-long, I did. As I would change, so would my company. And as I began to grow weary and would need time to myself, then there was always a great expanse: the West, with all the wonders of the world. Eventually as I wandered through, I realized that I was rather fond of Nocturne. It was a place where I was free to be whoever I was, act as I desired. A lawless land where power ruled. It's where I'm at my greatest." It was where he could be "West", as he once told Isis. He was not Raphael here, not royalty, not an Emperor. He was a beast who preyed on desire, and he loved that shade of himself. It was a sight to behold all of the men of power and means kneeling before him in the East. But here, it was even greater of a sight to watch them bow and bend not because of a title, but the man that they all recognized him to be. They sensed his greatness from the moment he entered their gaze.
"Let's not stay too long," he said. The man created a door once more, then grabbed on to Soren's wrist and sneered. "It's not difficult for me to be wherever I want to be. Part of the reason I came to Nocturne again was because I wanted to witness Vak Stenva, the Fairhair city, with my own eyes. I wanted to explore all the lands leading to it. Now that I have you however, that prospect is more complicated and less desirable. Assuming you're ready to abandon this freezing hole, I'd like you to come with me, to the city. Or another city. I don't really care as long as you'll come." He yet again closed the distance, his pulling Soren close to him by means of his wrist. "I'd come to wonder where you were, and the longer you were gone the stronger my desire came to find you."
He whispered to him, "Did you ever desire to find me, Soren?"
Soren felt more than heard the man in front of him say his name. He saw the lines near his eyes crinkle as he broke out into a smile. It made Soren smile though his grin wasn’t as pronounced as West’s. It was quieter. It was calmer. It was a far cry from the insecure and uncertain smile that had once touched his face. This smile was more assured in its own self-confidence. Whether it was gained from being exposed to the harshness of the world or because of the fickle nature of other mortals remained to be seen. He listened to West’s explanation of why he’d gone where he’d gone. It was…different than what he’d come to expect from the man.
In the brief time that he’d spent alongside West and his companion Isis he’d learned that the man was more than a little whimsical. The man that stood in front of him seemed weighted down by terrible purpose. Like the herald who’s burden it was to usher upon the world a new age, there was a resolute dignity to the way West carried himself that wasn’t there before. It sparked Soren’s curiosity. As West continued to speak though he could still see some of that whimsical carefree attitude. It was just more…mature. Soren didn’t think that word quite fit his assessment but it was the only one he could think of at the moment.
“You always have been confident in your strengths.” It was a statement born purely from observation. It wasn’t an accusation. It was a fact. Soren had never once seen West falter in his belief in his own abilities. It was a confidence that he was slowly beginning to share though he had yet to truly push himself to the very edge and back.
“I can see just how difficult travel is for you.” His tone was more than a little sarcastic but it was in good humor. Soren didn’t fight his wrist being grabbed. Nor did he resist being pulled closer to the man. He went willingly. Though he wasn’t directly asked the question of why he’d wandered, Soren chose to answer what had been left unsaid.
“I left because I needed to fore my own path. I needed to find out who I was in a world beyond the one I’d come to know. I still don’t think I’ve quite found that man but I’m beginning to see more of him when I look in the mirror.” Soren shrugged. Whether West understood or not didn’t really matter. It had been a journey that he’d needed to undertake alone without assistance. He needed to prove something to himself. He’d done that in some small part. There was still much that he wanted to do. Only time would tell whether or not he was able to do it. At the question he looked up into West’s eyes one more time before stepping closer eliminating all distance between them. Casually he unwound his wrist from West’s grip only to slid his hand into the other man’s. Lacing their fingers together he stared down at their gloved hands for a moment.
Part of him wanted the material to suddenly evaporate so he could feel the warmth of West’s hand in his own. That would have been completely illogical in the freezing cold of the frozen lake. Nonetheless it was a strong desire that welled up inside of him. Looking back up he met West’s gaze.
“Where you go, I will follow.” He hadn’t expected to speak with such conviction but…he was certain of that one thing. Despite the road that he’d traveled it seemed he’d begun his journey years ago only to be lead to Aramil. To be lead to West. Though he’d wandered away from West for a time it seemed his road had lead him back to the man. So with West he would go.
And he wouldn’t look back. Damn the consequences.
Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 6:46 pm
nu███████XXX███████XXX███████XXX███████ numineIN THE END ` JUST LIKE SOLDIERS♕》*WEMARCHON! bad apple
xxx n×◞KING ⊰OF(KEVAI)*⇣EMPEROR OF♕ARAMIL! by numinex for the food chain do not steal! c:CHAMPION OF ANTONY
Confident? The man laughed a little. If only he were more. Isis wouldn't have had to die. The rupture left behind in her passing wouldn't have needed to form, one that devoured the small amounts of goodness that still remained with him. He served an angel now, a God. And yet there was nothing about him any longer that remained angelic. He was as he was made to be, a demon; a creature seeking only their own entertainment, whether in the joy or pain of others. Perhaps Soren did not yet realize just yet, that truth. Perhaps West did not want him to know, or himself to know. When the change came through him, he remembered feeling a very benign thing for the first time in his life: West had always been one to place himself the equal of other creatures. Even as he was told that his birthright as royalty made him superior, and that the peasants below would bow to him and bend the knee, he always felt reprieve. There was perhaps the acknowledgment that he wasn't really royal, just the b*****d son of an Incubus with particular talents. Or perhaps it was because he genuinely believed that all men were created equal, as his God would tell all but none would lend an ear to.
Whatever the case, that feeling stuck with him. It marked him for the rest of his life as a King who understood the people. It made him great. It made him weak. That distinct feature of him was what made the man Raphael, it was all that kept him from his identity as a demon. And when demon's blood and a monster's soul consumed him, it dispersed from his heart and so he was no longer Raphael. When he rose, he remembered that restraint going away, and it was gratifying. He looked at others for the first in his life as lessers, as below him. He was a pure-blooded demon, better than royalty. He was a God among men. And that made it so much easier to perform evil deeds, act the deviant, defy Michael.
Every day, people fought their nature. They fought their arrogance, their hubris, all of their villainous wants that would destroy them if they succumbed. Each person was capable of becoming a monster at the flick of a switch, but most held back for fear and love. The ones who did not, became either history's greatest or its worse. They killed and made change. They let go of the ruse of civility in favor of a more bloodied path. West stood at the very precipice that made these sort of men and women. All it would take was one event to forever toss aside the identity of his that he considered "man", in favor of solely the beast in him that did not bleed. It would be something well beyond Isis's death that would form this change.
Either way, that fearsome fact remained. Others did not know of it. West's slow degradation into a more primal state had been so subtle that perhaps not even Michael witnessed it. He did not act much different than before. It was only that he began to see people as assets and tools to be used for his own great purpose. Perhaps Soren was the same. He once sought a lover. But now, he wondered if that was what he needed. Perhaps, like the King in the northern lands, what he needed was something far more shallow.
Maybe Soren would not notice that the Emperor's eyes would peer over him. That he would gaze upon him without thought, only the rise and fall of his energy. When the man's fingers laced and tied with his own, he felt his blood rise and alight with a static excitement. He felt a sting that was as a sign to him, one that helped him to recall his great needs. His face rose, his lips caressing the human's forehead as his eyes gazed upon the endless sea of snow. "What if I were to go to my bed?" He asked. "Would you follow me there?" Perhaps what he needed was not confirmation, but rejection. Perhaps for his entire life he was waiting for a moment to assert himself and be... not the man that he dreamed to witness, but the creature that he was tainted and bred all the same.
West seemed to grow pensive. Soren could only imagine the thoughts that were passing through the other man’s head. Good or bad it didn’t really matter to him. Acceptance or rejection it would be what it was and Soren would move on with his life one way or the other. He was enjoying the physical proximity of the other man. Soren very much still held on to his chastity. No, he had kept himself virtuous though he couldn’t quite give a reason why. He’d gotten more than a few offers for intimacy during his travels. He’d never found the motivation or incentive to give in to those offers though. He laughed softly at the question that West posed.
“On the promise that for as long as I live, you will bed me and only me.” It wasn’t an acceptance. It wasn’t a denial either. It was an ultimatum. It wasn’t one that Soren could hold West to either. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that the Incubus would remain true to it even if he accepted the term. No, the truth was that as much as Soren admired West, as much as part of him might have longed for there to be more than just something physical between the two of them he just didn’t see it happening. There was also of course the much more morbid option left open to the Incubus. Soren didn't dwell on that thought though. It was a promise West would never keep requested by a man who was quite certain he never would, even if he made it.
So, unless the other man had either a drastic change of heart or intended to live as an honestly loyal incarnation of physical desire Soren would remain as he was. For what it was, he still would never forget the feeling of West’s lips as they ghosted over his skin. He closed his eyes briefly committing the sensation of memory. When he opened them he reached up to gently pat West on the chest with his free hand as he dropped his walking stick.
“Until that day, I will follow you to your bed only to make sure that whomever you bed doesn’t try to off you in the middle of your fun.” He gave West a wink and a genuine smile. That probably wouldn’t make the other man altogether very happy but Soren knew he’d get over it. In the grander scheme of things Soren realized that to West he was likely little more than someone to keep around for…something. He still didn’t quite know what that reason was yet. So, yes, while Soren had changed on some levels he was still something of a prude. If only a little.
It was at this point that Soren fully expected West to shove him away from the warmth of his body. Abandoned to the cold, left to fend for himself. If that were to be the outcome, so be it. Soren would do just that. He would fend for himself and in due time journey to Luimira City and from there likely make his way home to Aramil. Unless of course he was declared a treasonous slattern for refusing to bed with the Emperor. It was a mildly amusing thought but wasn’t one he was particularly fond of.
