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 Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 9:06 pm
Pie had been exploring a bit more. It seemed to her that a lot of the various people she was meeting and observing would just be doing this or that. She wanted to be doing that too. She felt like since coming here; she hadn’t been able to harness a dedicated purpose. The chain of command or who she should even report to wasn’t something exactly set in stone. She had just been reporting to Buddy because she knew him. She was pretty good at finding him if she needed him. Everything else though. It was a great big hot mess. She taken to spending her time in the rift to explore observe. Often lurking in shadows or hallways. Always somewhere just hanging back to learn from whatever sources she could. What this place was. She had spent time using the intelligence station. She read up on lots of people, but they were all just one big list of names. She didn’t know who any of them were.
When after a while she wasn’t satisfied with any of that either; she went off exploring more. She would just drift here and there. Sometimes, watching people go by while fiddling with the straw back and forth between fingers. She thought had heard some refer to a him. She didn’t really understand what any of it meant. Only she found it insatiably curious what it was about. How would she know if she found this him? Would it be obvious? Or.. maybe not so? When stopping a random person to ask “What’s such a big deal about that person?” They’d tell her about a half youma.
Youma… Something else that was an enormous curiosity. Whenever she saw or was confronted by them. How curious. They seemed to range from anything of animals while some looked like people. What did they exist to do? Were they ghosts? She had seen some Negaversers going about with their own right with them. She bet that would be useful. She continued on wandering around aimlessly. Thinking that one day, when she was more ready and experienced. She’d get a youma too. She fancied it would be pretty bad a** to get one big enough that she could ride it.
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Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 10:42 pm
The silence of the Rift felt pregnant with animosity.
Practiced melodies spilled from the harmonica as Bischofite washed away the latent paranoia. Youma watched him mirthlessly from the shadows, peering out at him for some sign, some crack, some hairline fracture in the facade that might betray his inner motives. Still he played, eyes cast downward to the rubble and detritus that sat unmoving on a winding path. Cracks yawned in the earth where deep fissures unsettled the ground, and from these minute fractures crept the moving shadows of the Rift. He knew them well by now, as their attentions multiplied.
Only none rested gaze on him for long, and he arrested attention from no youma beyond what was naturally afforded. They found no reason to watch him now, no more than any other time. They crept, scuttled, crawled further into the depths that stretched far from the citadel - each no more curious than the last.
Bischofite paused in playing his harmonica and looked out from behind the chrome-plated metal toward the vast caverns gaping before him. He fell quiet, eyes slowly lidded before shutting entirely to sample the silence. At that moment, the blooming darkness of a lieutenant struck him - while not strong, it felt dark and invigorating. And with that recognition came a sense of trepidation, of patronizing ridicule or mockery that he so recently endured from rank high and low. While Laurelite's decree no longer held its effect, Bischofite found himself wary of any company from Negaverse ranks. Despite this, he never turned to regard the approaching signature.
"You wander far, Lieutenant," he finally responded from his perch. "Where is your superior? Youma haf' little interest in abstaining from mauling you when you haf' no real power of your own to subdue zem. Turn back, go home. You don't belong here." Not yet.
But do I?
Pocketing the harmonica in the remnants of his tattered coat, Bischofite twisted from his seated position to regard the girl that wandered in. Feathered wings tucked close to his body to prevent further commentary by the contorted faces within. "Or did you come to watch dead corpses dance?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 8:02 am
It seemed to her as the wandering continued and went on before her. The sound that had started somewhere, and she didn't know where it came from. That lone harmonica prickled her senses. In her heart, that felt like a very lonely sound. She really disliked lonely sounds. They were so sad.
Loneliness. Of all the things out there that could cut through her straight to the core of her soul. Loneliness had been a feeling she knew well. Even though she had spent so many years basking in her promiscuity. That was just a method through which she attempted to make herself feel less lonely. She grew up an only child. When her parents were busy traveling abroad, and she would have to stay in those boarding schools. Or, the few years she stayed with her grandparents in New York. All these places. Surrounded by so many people, and yet feeling so lonely, always yearning and craving time and attention from the only people who loved her.
As she got too old to be content with being around them all the time, she had turned to other things to feed those needs. So when she heard the lonely sound of that harmonica, it both repelled her and drew her in. Was that sound out of place here in this vast emptiness? Maybe the sound was thematic. In which case, she was questioning if she should really come here anymore.
Then, there was a voice. She pulled up suddenly and paused peering around. When nothing was seen around her, her head slowly tilted up. Oh my. 'haf'? zem? How interesting. Yeah. Probably turning back would be a good idea. Going home might be also a great idea. Since only after she committed herself to this great chaos had wheels in her life started moving along.
Dead corpses dance? Were there corpses in here? Yeesh. Super gross. "Excuse me for disturbing you sir, but hey, would you be willing to come down here? Also, based on what I've found so far. I have no real immediate superior. Doesn't anyone else think for a group that seems like... some form of para military or an army. There are ranks, but noone has people they have to directly report to? Even in a job out in my world, I have people who are above me. They have expectations, and I know what those are."
Of course, she couldn't know what she was asking or who she was talking to. Still so without enough knowledge about so many things. "Please just... would you come here? Like. Come closer."
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Posted: Sun Jun 22, 2014 11:44 pm
"Your world?" The youma general snarled. "How pretentious of you to assume zat I know nossing of ze surface." Has it truly been so long that I'm now considered a part of this place? Nearly two months... It can't be. This one - she's new. I can almost smell it on her.
Bischofite left the crystal instantaneously, reappearing directly behind the wandering lieutenant. Derision faded to disgust, his voice thick with admonishing tones as he advanced on her. "I was a part of your world, Lieutenant! I was human once! I knew what it meant to haf' a job, a home, a lover - and all zat was stripped from me when I was contorted into zis wretched creature now." Halting, the general unfurled wings in a chorus of light gasps. Feathers shuddered beneath breaths, and soon incomprehensible words flowed from beyond the down. "You can treat me like some fetid abomination all you like, Lieutenant - call me a demon, a nightmare, a horrific fever-dream, but you cannot deny zat I was once a part of your world, as some misguided brat named Alois Scholz."
He halted, gold eyes combing her uniform momentarily. Non-functional in the heat of battle, but eye-catching. I would've fancied her once... Before I bore the burden of extra limbs. Am I really trying to appraise her usefulness in the Negaverse? An opinion weighed in s**t and piss is still worth nothing more than so. How many times must I be chastised before I abandon such hubris?
Bischofite reached toward the girl, yet paused halfway. His warped hand splayed slightly before curling into a fist with palm facing toward his chest. Allowing it to drop, he simply paced past her and drew to a halt a few feet away. Looking out toward the desolate ruins dotting the horizon, he sighed. "Ze Negaverse is disorganized. Zat is no secret. Every branch has a General-King or -Queen at its head, and all subordinates report to zem only wis' ze most pressing matters. From what I understand, generals or captains... Are supposed to govern and teach new lieutenants zat filter into zat branch's ranks. But... Ze system is broken, and we are but mindless dolls no different zan ze Dark Mirror."
In sighting a youma, he merely looked at the creature while it examined the pair, shortly before foregoing interest and scuttling toward a vast cavern yawning in the distance. "You would do best to find a superior, Lieutenant. Find someone willing to gif' you answers, training. Someone who can draw out your potential. Someone who won't ruin you."
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Posted: Mon Jun 23, 2014 9:56 am
Really, she hadn't intended for those words to come out sounding that way, but pretentious drawls that spilled out of her mouth was more than just common occurrence with her. It flowed from that cocky, unstoppable hubris she frequently suffered from. AT his immediate correction, her lips formed a pursed o shape in a quiet attempt to ascertain how she had gone wrong. Her instincts kicked in, and she immediately went into diplomatic damage control mode. She rolled his words around in her mind though. The surface. How intriguing.
When he appeared behind her, all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A creepy chill snuck down her spine sending warning tingles out to all of her nerves. Yet, despite the sense of warning she felt, she couldn't resist her curiosity. The way he had been speaking. Both for the accent in his words and his correction. She had turned her head first to glance. Her eyes widened, and she willed herself to turn around and face him. Wow! She had never seen anything like this ever.
For a few moments after his wings opened, the cacophony of voices and sounds felt more than overwhelming. She had to rub her ears and her head. On the list of new experiences, she was pretty sure this deserved a spot at the top all of its own. As she blinked her eyes a few times grappling with her senses to push through all that, her eyes just looked up to look at his.
"I'm sorry. I apologize. I had no intention to treat you that way at all. I also apologize for sounding pretentious. Admittedly, I know nothing about you except what you've just told me. Which I have to say.... I find fascinating."
She thought maybe saying morbidly fascinating might be a bad choice of words. She considered his words. "Do you consider yourself a demon, a nightmare, or a horrific fever-dream?" Having seen his eyes roam on her, that cocky pride showed itself in a knowing smile. That's all there was though. She didn't follow that smile with a declaration of bravado as she might in other situations.
When a hand was reached towards her, her eyes followed it with caution as if it were a bee or a wasp. As if it had a potential to harm her, her feeling the edge away from it. Yet, as he held it to himself, she watched with eyes so utterly drawn in. She should probably had taken everything he had said till then as a sign to just turn around and go back. Yet, she felt like she just couldn't do that. Curiosity killed the cat some liked to say; and surely, hers would likely bring her to dubious outcome. Still, she tried to walk up closer to look at his hand better. She was too slow and too late though.
Her eyes trained on him; as he moved, she watched without flinching or looking away. Something in the way he spoke, it felt so sad to her. She then approached him closer making an attempt to search him out and understand what this person was in front of her.
She wanted to ask him if he had been ruined. It seemed to her people who were ruined at young ages grew up to be ruined works of art. They often passed on that ruin to their children and lovers as they moved on in life, and such were the tales of people who were slaves to substance abuse and other manners of abuse in their families. No. That would probably make him feel offended or defensive.
She went with something else all together. "I like the way you talk. Is that... German? Or.. Russian? What does that feel like?" She pointed to his hand. "Is it painful? Does it hurt? What took someone who was a misguided brat and turn him into...." She wasn't sure what that was. It seemed to her some cross of a raven with... Well, she didn't know about the rest.
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Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 10:59 pm
That explains why you're not overstepping your bounds as a lieutenant to chastise me. For a moment he reserved all expression, simply looking her over while he decided whether he fully believed her story or not. Fascinating? That was your lynchpin, Lieutenant. Fascinating sounds far too akin to flattery. You play an underhanded game... One I've enjoyed of my own volition many times. Had we met while I was still human, I'd have pressed the matter further. Missed opportunities.
"I consider myself none of ze abof'e," he answered curtly. His arms drew in toward his chest, one crossing over the other while a few tattered remains of his sleeve trailed from his right bicep. "But to gif' you ze answer of how I sink of myself would spoil your curiosity. I'f always favored bargains, games. If you're truly so interested in what I am and how I function, or any ozzer tawdry novelty offered by zis misshapen body, zen we could make a game of it. Or a trade." He yearned to play, though he constantly admonished himself for gravitating toward old, outmoded preferences. Given his experience among his peers, they unanimously agreed that his methods proved ineffectual... So why continue? Why bother with trades, tricks, tirades when the lot of those actions found derision among his peers and rebuttal from his superiors?
If I am to survive this, everything must be burned to ash. It looks like I'm following in your footsteps after all, Quenton. But... I don't know that I want to make it.
Half-turning, he looked out toward the desolate stretches before venturing a few steps, his hem dragging heavily along the dirt and debris. "I'll gif' you your second question as a freebie. My accent is German, yes. I spent most of my life in Saarland, a border state to France. From ze sickness of it, you can likely tell I haven't been in America for terribly long." Her gesture toward his hand solicited nothing more than a half-lidded, lukewarm stare. Were he of better health, he likely would've offered her a marginal smirk, a sly reminder that he fully intended to abide by these arbitrary rules and draw out all attempts at obtaining information.
Small ventures should be enough to test the waters. Should be. Might be. I won't know for certain. The Negaverse looks to favor half-measures - if I keep my demands light and my tasks easy enough that my wasted body might perform them favorably, then I might forge some progress. "So you want to know what it's like to haf' hands half-warped into talons, Lieutenant?" As he spoke, he pried one hand from its folds and flexed his fingers from fist to splayed to indicate his range of motion. "Fine. Gif' me your name, your mineral name as a lieutenant of ze Negaverse, and I will tell you."
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Posted: Mon Jun 30, 2014 1:22 pm
Wasn't this a fun little meeting? Her eyes growing more keen by the minute. She felt as though she had stumbled on something closely akin to a secret. How delicious that tasted to her mind. It baited her though she'd be loathe to admit she could ever be baited at all. That was like admitting she could be easily manipulated, and she'd never admit to that either. Though that wasn't especially hard to do either. Her ego being quite the thing that both set her free and yet imprisoned her.
When he didn't want to tell her what he thought of himself to not kill her curiosity, she softly walked forward and closer a little bit. If he didn't have those wings full of faces and voices, she probably would have walked right up to him. Personal space would have been trodden down beneath her heels. She took care moving closer. Her eyes stopping at times to peer out. She would pause to steel her senses as to not allow herself to be so distracted or turned aside.
Though the invitation to a game, her eyes were drawn to his face. Her eyes staring up at his. Hers danced with mischief. Her adrenaline started to spike up. She usually wasn't very childish, but she did enjoy games so. They turned boring, dull things into exciting adventures.
"Sure. Let's play a game. I love games." Her last statement practically a purr. Trades were just as good or better. She thrived off of trading. Her friendships and relationships built off of the ole 'I do something for you, and you do something for me'; those were her favorite and most fast of friends. She treasured and valued those people.
"Ooooh... German... How exceptional. Would you feel patronized if I wanted to hear how you say certain things? Not that I've peculated any immediate ideas. It's always nifty to listen to the way different people talk. I love the inflections in people's pronunciations when they don't know English very well."
It was too bad he didn't offer her a smirk. She identified with the cocky, over confidence and smugness that often came associated with those expressions. Trading smirks was just as good if not better than handshakes.
When his hand opened to move the fingers, she leaned in to look at it closer. To look at the formation, texture, color. Talons. "Did you become something like a..." What was the word... "A were raven? Like... A shapeshifter?" The black wings. Talon hands?
Then, she felt herself drawn in a dubious snare. Her curiosity feeling insatiable. She madly wanted to know about this person in front of her. The wonder that was a man who had become some kind of beast. Her eyes narrowed as they moved up to stare him in the eye.
It was fairly neutral as she weighed her side of the trade. Up till now, she had been doing fine with remaining a shadow around this place. She easily slipped here and there without being noticed. Her name though. Was it so bad to give that up? She gave up far more as Cherry. There, she wanted everyone to know her name.
Here. Well, she would possibly want that in due time. When she was more prepared and seasoned. For now, she felt remaining anonymous and invisible were her best chance.
She looked away as she licked her bottom lip and then her top. She chewed her lips as she deliberated. If he knew her name, who would he tell? Did he talk to others? The way he spoke at first. He sounded like he felt reviled by his peers. If he were so neglected, it was only one person.
Well, she was always a fan of playing it big or go home. Her ego unwavering decided that she would play his game. She would need to think of a way she could benefit from all this if she played it till its end. Would be a good prize for her?
"Piemontite. Lt Piemontite sir." She felt suddenly like those times she'd go to the bar and work people up for free drinks. A charming expression rising up her face from her lips, her cheekbones, her eyes. "If I come back here anymore and see you; I might even let you call me Pie."
She wanted to smirk and laugh at how much she liked the idea of people calling her Pie, but she kept that inside. He probably wouldn't get it, and she would look crazy.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 10:00 am
Vivacious, this one. I wonder how long the Negaverse can feed on that vigor until she learns bitterness and exhaustion. Bischofite never faltered in eye contact, even as she closed distance to conversational. A slow sigh crept up his throat, accompanied by a low, grumbling moan from a few of the mouths beneath the feathers. Others uttered guttural creaks and nasal crackles, groans.
He bristled once more when she implied that he held a lukewarm grasp of the english language. "First you assume zat I'f never seen civilization, and now I lack a coherent grasp on English because I haf' an accent?" Were I not stranded here without intelligent conversation, I'd weld your mouth shut with tar for transgressions alone. His lip twitched slightly, eyes half-lidded in irritation. "If you want to hear how I talk, I suggest you stop insulting it." His wings came alive with varying cadences, an assortment of inflections in echoing his statement. Some lagged while others sped ahead, lending preview to his chosen phrasing before he himself revealed it.
Bischofite remained silent until she offered name, rank. She demands much, and offers little in return. Smart, dominant. Often the more boisterous and demanding of traders muster the better deals. So she shows promise... Even if I am loathe to ruin her in my own ineffectual training routines. "I am no were-raven," he returned, offering a crooked smile at the sheer audacity of the idea. Careful - you considered the whole of this reality as fanciful fiction at one time before. Perhaps one day you'll devolve into a simple bird, flitting between corpses, before you regain the ability to maintain a human visage.
Or one day, you might find yourself a unicorn.
"But since you are familiar wis' such fantasies, I will explain it in a... similar fashion." He reached toward the large crystal upon which he sat previously, fingers trailing around its large base as he rounded the stone. Peering out at her from just beyond its smooth surface, only his eyes offered indication of mischievousness. "Imagine a werewolf, for instance. Half-man, half-beast. His legs are warped, his face elongated, yet he walks on two legs and maintains some characteristics of a man beneas' ze savage instincts. Most only suffer zis... curse, disease, deformity during a full moon and revert soon afterward. Now imagine a werewolf zat could not change back - zat must endure zat form for days, weeks, years."
His visage vanished entirely, only to indicate his presence directly behind her with the rush of a few gasps. "Zat, in essence, is me." And it wears on me every minute, every second. "I once dreamed of zis existence... But now I find it an intolerable nightmare. A purgatory reserved for zose who see hell as an improvement to zeir current situation."
Speaking of such dampened his mood; he sighed, shoulders slumping into their usual frail and overtaxed position. Absently he rubbed at the muscle often stretched and strained from the unwieldy weight of wings. "It used to hurt - zis existence. It's difficult to balance acutely wis' such a heavy burden at your back, one zat moves and flexes and stretches just as you do. My hands hurt for a time, but I hardly felt it beyond ze..." Betrayal. I cannot call it a betrayal, even if I feel so wronged. I am Iscariot, I am the deceiver that festers in the Negaverse... Aren't I? I can't be certain.
"Nevermind." He banished the notion by raising his hand to pause all track of conversation. "Tell me zis, Piemontite - what haf' you done since joining ze Negaverse, as far as our assigned duties go? Additionally, what do you expect to contribute to ze organization? And lastly, how much of yourself are you willing to part wis' in servitude?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 3:23 pm
Every time there was a chorus of voices, groans, whispers coming from those faces. She'd have to stop what she was saying, stop how she was moving, and even stop what she was thinking. She'd roll her eyes across watching them. She suddenly had a vagrant thought if these faces had ever belonged to someone. Or, were they the facial manifestation of demons or other dark things.
The more she heard them; the less fearful she felt. It was a raucous noise. Her eyes when looking up to make contact with his weren't faltering. Well, then his reaction to her. She cautiously raised both hands and held her palms up. Her eyes growing more sober as she went into damage control mode. Her diplomatic instincts taking the helm again.
"Whoaaa... whoa... Hey, let's just calm down. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to insinuate that you personally don't have a good grasp of English. I apologize. I meant no insults at all. I mean you no harm. None at all. I'm generally not malicious in nature unless I stand to gain something significant from it." Or, maybe she shouldn't have just said that.
She was doing a pretty good job of being as transparent as could be. Though his crooked smile engaging her interest further. Listening to his explanations, she walked a slow, calm circle around him. So intriguing, so curious. When he moved away and peeking out from behind that crystal, she watched with an ever deepening eagerness to learn about this. It was like a legend come true before her eyes. Posturing to reinforce her bravado, her hands slipped to the sides of her hips in a confident pose.
When he disappeared, she remained in that position with her eyes peering around. Those voices. Geez. She stepped to the side and then closer at his side and moving around him. "I see. That sounds like quite a heavy burden. I could help you. I'm sure there must be something I can do to make it... hurt a little less? There must be a way to give you relief at least."
Though he tried to change the subject. She wasn't changing the subject. She outright ignored the rest of the questions. No one had particularly assigned her anything. She had seen the training squads and watched them leave to go out for patrols. Assignments. Orders. While she had been interested in their hierarchy and system of organization, she also had little to zero interest in doing anything if she wasn't going to benefit from it. Soon enough, she would go out in the city and do their dirty work. All the while seeking more information. None of that mattered to her just right this instant.
She wondered to herself. If I wanted to come back here and visit this... man, this monster. Would I be able to get back in?
"I want to help you. You should let me."
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Posted: Tue Jul 08, 2014 8:05 pm
"A schemer," he answered curtly - more branded the girl in tone than anything less. As he uttered the words, he leaned forward just slightly to loom over her, examine her, scrutinize every breath and reaction and falter from her body while his wings served to trail off the last of the syllables. "I know you, zen. I know you well."
"Conceptualizing. Dances weird... steps."
Bischofite sighed in irritation. "Around him," he continued. "Like a willful little wood demon. She's not my little schemer." Did Malicious know A Self-Portrait? Are these voices some backwashed manifestation of my own knowledge and memories? A subconscious murmur of all thoughts treading below the tip of the iceberg? "Were I possessed of ze tools for it, I'd haf' excised zese damnable wings long ago. I don't suppose you haf' a bladed weapon yet, Lieutenant?" He asked in a manner akin to Malicious, with weight shifted to one side while a hand drew upwards to outstretch a single index finger toward the sky.
In canceling his request, his index dropped limp. "... Nevermind. Now is not ze time for such sings."
Her insistence toward relief invoked a mixed response, one yearning for some modicum of relief from his current condition and another somewhat disappointed at such an Americanized view of pain and suffering. "Zere are sings..." He replied, absently tapping a finger to his lower lip in searching thought. "I'f always liked to read. You can bring me books. And bones... If you find any animal bones, even corpses, bring zem wis' some twine, paints, perhaps a carving knife... However, you will find it difficult to come back here wis'out a captain to accompany you. Unfortunately my contacts are few on good terms. Perhaps... Seek out a general called Benitoite. He can return you here. I can gif' you his cell, his address, if it benefits you.
"Additionally, he is somesing of a doormat. I advise you get to know him, as earning friendship offers a free pass toward a surfeit of manipulations. If you are truly a schemer, you will find my advice compelling. Ozzerwise... Perhaps I will find you as more permanent company among zese caves. I'f heard tell zat I am not ze first to incur zis... unfortunate situation. Surely I will not be ze last." He grinned darkly, fingers steepled into a triangular gesture.
"Worry not, Piemontite. I will let you help me." I'll let you help me until I grind you into the dirt.
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Posted: Tue Jul 08, 2014 9:09 pm
His naming her and saying he knew her well. She stood close by narrowing her eyes and searching his. She looked as if by looking she would discern just how much or how well he thought he knew what she was. Then again, she wasn't the first or last of her personality. She only wore it well.
"Sorry. I'm not sure my weapon will ever be bladed. That don't mean I can't next time I come have a pocket knife stuffed in my top or in my hip pouch. I can see what I can do about that."
She walked around him, and ever so cautiously, she reached out a hand to touch and stroke some of the feathers. Ever a person who would take in everything about whatever it was in front of her. Sight, smell, touch, taste, sound, and even just the general vibes and other sixth senses to be had.
"Oh really? And, when is it time for such things? I don't mind helping you with that either. Sometimes, the smallest of pleasantries we allow ourselves bring some of the deepest reaching satisfaction."
With yet more alluring smiles and sweeps of her eyes. His sudden list of the things he might like. Every one of them were written in her mind and her heart the moment he spoke them. She would be back. With as much of it as she could manage. What fun would that be. It'd be like a scavenger hunt. More things to do and occupy herself with.
Hmm. Would it be that difficult? Well, she had every confidence in her ability to find someone to let her in. She was nothing if not persuasive with the right people. Though she had a small thought. If she were to get herself promoted up to captain; then she could come and bring herself whenever she liked. That little tidbit of motivation was planted in her like a seed.
"Twine... and bones... interesting." Still, she did file that name away. Anyone offering her someone who was easy to work with. Well, that was too good to pass up.
She listened still. Astute to file it all away for her personal use. She wondered why he'd offer her prey and games so easily. Was it a trick? With both hands on her hips and eyes watching shrewdly.
"You could just call me Pie. You know. It just happens that in my everyday life. Making pies is possibly one of the things I do best even. "
She moved closer still. Taking closer looks and stopping in her stalking like movements. "Will you get mad if I touch you? I want to feel your hand. Would you allow it?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 09, 2014 9:47 pm
Stuffed in your top is preferable. It's one of the few pleasures offered by human company... I have so many things to miss these days.
The brush of feathers coaxed a shudder from his shoulders, rousing goosebumps soon afterward. He offered no further comment on it. "I suspect I would sooner bleed out or go into shock from ze pain before I manage to sever a single wing." His gaze followed her in her pace, nigh unblinking beyond the mask. "My comments were half in jest." And if I pried the bone mask from my face, you may gather that much from countenance alone. I fear that entrusts her with too much information too soon... I must parse it out if I want even a meager scrap of intellectual stimulation.
Bischofite watched with amusement as she sported her vivaciousness, her sensual nature. In times when wings lingered solely on his neck, he'd have pursued her - drawn in by such acts and impulses that never fully died down. The chase every bit as intoxicating as the reward. Now he stood a creature somewhere beyond human, with claws in place of hands and a thick plate of carapace sprawled over the nape of his neck. These small displays of playfulness, teasing tension out of him, simultaneously alerted him to his entirely foreign and devoid existence. He wanted to touch her, and simultaneously blanched at the thought.
"You could bring a pie, too. Proof' you earned your name." Sustenance came rarely, and what drifted in his direction often soured his taste buds. She reminds me of Richard - save for that she's not so terribly uptight about her presentation. Still... She preens it nonetheless.
Again she sought his personal space, and he responded in kind by maintaining his footing, though he felt the flood of tar boiling just beneath his skin. "If I let you touch me, it would cost you. Are you willing to pay ze price, Pie?" Afterward he extended his hand toward her. "I will let you touch ze portions of me zat are youma so long as you agree to a few stipulations. Ze first - you cannot ask what will happen when you touch my hand. Ze second - I want you to agree to being my eyes in Destiny City, as I cannot often walk its perimeters. And ze last - I need you to study ozzer officers for me."
Mutual beneficial actions are often the most intoxicating for the arrogant yet helpful. I suspect you are as much. Perhaps more sided in the arrogant and self-serving than legitimate interest in others, but... That is of little consequence. You can pride and preen yourself on your assistance to me. We shall see what comes of this arrangement... if you even accept.
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Posted: Thu Jul 10, 2014 9:05 am
She would have been lying if she even suggested that she wasn't thinking about what was under the mask. An itching curiosity of what he'd be like if he had no garments or his mask on. Was he all wooden underneath? So curious. Yet, all in good time. If she were too greedy, he might have another outburst. Since the dawn of man, people had been taming animals and beasts of all manner and size. From elephants to snakes.
Then the way he spoke with her about his wings. The way he talked to her. "Well, then it's probably just a matter of getting used to it? What if I rubbed or itched it for you? Where your feathers and wings sprout from your back? That might feel good."
She watched him watching her. Her eyes narrowed in that deeply satisfied knowing smiling sort of way. As if to convey without even the words, that maybe he did know just who she and what she was. That being so; then there was an obvious path that follows. But no one saying so. Was it ever a dance. She loved that dance. It was utterly her nature to do it. She nothing better in fact.
His asking for the pie. Then, she smiled a grin a little less smug and a lot more sincere. "Excellent. I will. Tell me your favorites, and I will probably bring them for you. My cherry is to die for, and if you eat it, it'll melt in your mouth and make you moan with satisfaction."
If she had any hesitation about coming back with his list of items, she had it no longer. That list was memorized, and she was quickly set on getting everything on it. Every time she'd come, she'd bring the lot of items with her.
Then, she was caught in a web. Her eyes were like flames flickering with not only excitement; it was the feasting on her reward for this little dance she had been doing. Closing in on whatever space was left between them, she stepped in it like a moth to the flame.
"Agreed."
So easy, too easy. So easy she should have suspected imminent danger. Anything that seemed too easy in life came with severe repercussions. Yet, getting what she wanted was always much more important. Thinking too far down the road to allow possible outcomes to sway her from getting her hearts desires; no, she would just act. She'd clean it up and fix things later.
Something in the way he said her name made her feel almost like she were being dared. Such challenges. Her pride wouldn't allow her to back down even if a part of her mind didn't think it was any kind of a good idea. No. She was feeling brazen, and there would be no turning back or second guessing.
Then, she looked around that room. This would be much easier if he were sitting down.
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Posted: Sat Jul 12, 2014 1:27 am
"It might," he conceded. He considered the time when Lellouch offered similar treatment. I wager that this girl has more of an agenda than that corrupted senshi, who seems more... Aimless. Like no one showed her where to go, what to do, who to obey. And with this one? I suspect Piemontite will develop her own goals, direction absent the oppressive guiding hand. I wonder what she might become if our superiors allow her to fly under the radar. Perhaps a better, more effective version of me. Perhaps someone akin to Buddingtonite. "But zere comes a certain... benefit to suffering, one zat is often lost on zis cultural reaction zat all pain is bad, all suffering superfluous."
You've presented the shortsighted solution. I wonder... Are you unable or unwilling to think that far ahead, or are you using the immediate approach to build toward a more longstanding goal?
He continued to eye her beyond the mask, watching her pace about him like she eyed some porcelain doll, some expensive trifle just beyond the glass, and she possessed the money for it. He knew that look, sultry as it was, and often fell victim to it in youthful days spent untouched by Chaos. And now? That pull was still there. However, he stood no victim to a much weaker opponent - to a manipulator potentially matched in wit yet far weaker in strength. Should she overstep, he knew to correct her viciously.
Your cherry is to die for, eh? I'm certain that was popped long ago. "And at what point did you stop talking about food?" He asked, eyes settled on her with a practiced starkness. "If your... Pie offers such compulsion, zen perhaps I might gain some weight back." Assuming, of course, you were talking about baked goods.
Afterward he offered his hand toward her, palm upward, offering a view of the once-smooth skin now grooved with the infection of Youma. His fingers bore those same contorted recesses in skin until reaching the nail, where it sprouted black and jagged and long from the nail bed. Ostensibly it looked only malformed. Yet, should she lay hands to rest on his, to run fingers across those ruts in his skin, she would find tar bubbling to surface at an alarming rate. She would find the hot, sticky substance assailing her hands and its acrid odor filling her nose while it clung to her stubbornly.
"And now a question for you, Piemontite. Warmth provides comfort, pleasure. Heat provides discomfort, and often times pain when wrought by fire. At what degree do pain and pleasure become indistinguishable?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 14, 2014 9:49 am
She ruminated on that idea of pain and suffering being useful. The idea of enduring something you hate. Taking what you almost couldn't bear and not despising that condition. The concept alone was deeply profound. For a moment, that cat like look in her eyes she had since she stepped in the room went away. She then went and found part of a wall to lean against as she crossed her arms still watching him.
There was something you had to respect in someone who could just take on pain and suffering like that. While she wasn't sure just how deep it ran, it obviously changed him physically. She thought about the way he had referenced his human life up on top. Yet, he spoke of pain and suffering in what sounded to her almost like a sort of reverence.
She had mostly just been having fun with this man bird thing. She was playing with him and having some fun. However, becoming more aware of these other things, she started to wonder if could maybe learn something. Surely, the ability to endure and almost enjoy amounts of suffering had to be a strength. Noone could truly torture or torment you if you were partially enjoying it.
Her eyes returned to their typical look of lusty playfulness when he asked when she had stopped talking about food. A wicked grin grew across her lips to match her eyes. She couldn't help but laugh. So funny. "You're pretty sharp; I like that. Likely, you could gain weight; I'm a big fan of using nothing but pure butter. The flavor is always so much better."
Though if he had assumed she wasn't talking about baked goods, she would have likely played along with whatever response he had. In an instant, she had returned close to him. She drew in close, so very close. With at first a slow and cautious move of her hand, only the very tips of her finger tips ran up the side of the hand. When the tar hadn't been at the surface initially, she had started to smooth her hand on it and feel it with the palm of her hand.
Then, she felt it. She gave a swallowed shriek as she tried to pull her hand back. Even pulling it back, the hot tar burned. "Son of a b***h... hngg...," she hissed. She tried to shake it off like it was hot water or something and grew more than a little petulant when she realized it wasn't shaking off. The longer it was on and not coming off increasingly burning her.
Her eyes darting around looking for like a bucket of water.. or something. Anything to wipe her hand off on. She took the tie off of her uniform and started to try to wipe the tar with the tie only getting mostly covered in tar and sticking to her hand. Her hand still burned.
His question drew her eyes back up at him despite her hand blistering in the consequence of her curiosity. There was an answer in her mind. A memory of some nights she had been willing to try something a little different. If it weren't for her hand feeling like it was on fire, her reaction might have been heady and fueled by her promiscuous nature. Her mind full of the little games people play where pain and pleasure run together all the time. "Are you talking about when it hurts so well?"
That was the best she was going to answer. The sensation in her hand making her need to go, need to flee. She went back to trying to use her tie to help with the tar and the burning to little effect. Slowly, she took some steps backwards as she gave herself room to leave.
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