Today is of the Cycle Of The Seventh Moon.
Current Season & Month:  , Year: 543 A.R. (ref)

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Isabella's Hedge Maze - Entrance [Estate Grounds - EAST]


Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  
(Syltamull)MAZE MAIN(EstateGrounds)

Isabella's Hedge Maze

(Maze Entrance)


Dominating much of the Eastern Estate Grounds is the famous Hedge Maze of the late Lady Isabella Syltamul.  Vast and sprawling, the Hedge Maze is easy to lose oneself in, but should one want to try their luck, there are many secret offshoots and fun surprises to find within this twisting labyrinth.  There are two well-known intersections that one must pass to get to the true heart of the maze: the crossroads of The Star Circle Intersection and The Pointing Boy StatueEven still, it can be tricky to find the very center of the maze.  You’ll know if you find it, for the center of Isabella’s Hedge Maze boasts a garden that people have described as, “an explosion of color”.

The garden at the heart of the maze was Isabella’s pride and joy and one can tell that much love and care was poured into its curation. 

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  

DAETH 

The Bearer of the Mark 

and Sacrifice to none 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Our parting was like a stalemate…. Neither of us won.  Neither of us lost.   And worst still…that unshakeable feeling that nothing was ever really finished. 

– Ranata Suzuki


[OOC: continued from the Music Parlor]

 

Daeth draws closer to Eddellyn and they lock eyes.  His amethyst gaze almost glows as he passes through the deep threads of nighttime shadow, his expression unintentionally sharp, intense as he plunders the depths of her wintry grey gaze, not knowing what he’s looking for but searching for it, nonetheless.  And yet, even as his fierce stare cuts deeply into her and seeks her vulnerabilities, he feels unexpectedly exposed by her own gaze  boring into him.  The reopened wounds of the past are too close to the surface, hurt, fury, confusion, and undefined craving, all seething in a chaotic tumble behind the softburn of his heliotrope eyes.  As he comes abreast of her and stops in front of the entrance to the maze, a distant, detached part of him wonders what she’ll see, if anything, within his gaze.

He suddenly feels too raw, like his core was cracked wide open and everything suppressed, denied, and repressed within him has spilled forth and shattered on the ground between them.  Fragments of their shared history glitter softly in the pale light of the nearly swollen moon, like pieces of dying stars scattered across the shadowed angles of the grass underfoot, their edges as sharp and jagged as shards of glass.  Daeth looks away, has to look away, and closes himself off from her probing stare, even as he grants her reprieve from the intensity of his own.  The hard line of his jaw is tightly clenched, tense, like he's barely holding back a torrent of words behind the dam of his teeth.  

After a moment, Daeth swallows and manages to put a damper on the keenness of his roiling emotions, snapping back some semblance of control over himself; at least enough to release a low, huffed chuckle.  He turns to her.  They’re close – so damn close – the air writhes within the aperture of their bodies, crackling like  something alive; a tangible thing that pushes against him and skips along his skin.  It makes  the scant space between them swelter with possibility, and the need to touch like an ache in his veins.  He wants to fan his fingers along the curve of her jaw and rest his palm against her throat.  He wants to feel the throb of her jugular fill the groove of his lifeline with its rhythm, and feel her breath flutter in countermeasure across the pad of his thumb as he scrapes it lightly over the swell of her bottom lip. 

He does none of it. 

Although a part of him is almost physically drawn into her orbit, unlike the last time they were in such close proximity to one another, Daeth’s blood isn’t racing and full of adrenaline after a street fight against a group of cutthroats.  He's not standing within the slanting rain of a tempestuous, god-driven storm.  He’s not filled with the headiness of fresh death, and there is no blood staining his clothing, no red wetness decorating his knuckles;  no Minotaur keeps him strung out on too little sleep.  The freshness of their separation is no longer a wide open wound that lacerated his core and chafed his thoughts as it leaked infection into his subconscious. 

Daeth desires...but he doesn’t fold Eddellyn within the circle of his arms. 

He doesn’t kiss her. 

He simply studies her for a moment, letting his eyes sketch over the delicate contours of her face, before dropping his gaze to take in the details of her attire and note the sudden appearance of her equipment, that she somehow managed to procure between the Music Parlor and Maze.  He raises a shapely brow as a veiled grin faintly turns up the corners of his mouth.  Now Daeth reaches out, though he doesn’t grab her as might be expected.  Instead, he plucks at the luxurious, navy blue dress that sleekly skims over the curve of her hip like flowing water; the material is silky and cool between his fingers.  

It looks Monsieur Chemaux took quite a liking to you, Edde,” he says, traces of humor  brushed through the low hush of his voice.  He briefly meets her eyes.  “Because I know you didn’t commission a gown to attend a Noble’s masquerade.”  He releases the dress and watches as it falls fluidly back into place.  He can feel her tense a little, but he moves on and doesn’t ask her why she’s at a noble’s masquerade ball, dressed in an exceptionally tailored, slinky gown.   Instead, he gives her a small, albeit genuine twist of his lips as he shoots her a quick grin.  “Though I don’t think the sword really matches.”  He shrugs a bit, then turns away and moves past her, pausing just inside the entrance to the maze.

Not here,” he states simply.  He doesn’t offer anything further as he enters the maze and begins tracing its winding path towards its heart.

 

[OOC: to the Star Circle Intersection

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi and Wynterleaf liked
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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 754
 

Irihi's TonDen

From: The Ballroom

Marrazaar was descending, like a giant Zeppelin of ill intent, laughing all the way down, to moor it's massive trans-planar bulk upon the surface of Arcane. Throwing the son of death through an elven estate ceiling was great fun. Marrazaar decided it should do it much more often.

The laughter of the demon seemed to grow hollower, quieter, more distant. It was as if thousands of throats screamed a warning so loud their vocal cords tore, yet made no sound, only muting the monster. Something bent in the garden, or something bent the garden, or something bent the worlde in which the garden was anchored.

Marrazaar knew evil. Marrazaar was evil incarnate. It knew of twisting and twining love and goodness and weaving them into a perverted fabric of doom, for that was how it had come to be. Marrazaar knew that the TonDen that now walked the garden hand-in-hand with her monster was untrue, was overdone, was false. No evil existed which could warp the planes as she pretended to. 

Oh, the ashen elf must be a powerful sorceress, indeed, to perpetrate such an illusion, for it tasted real. When Marrazaar truly looked at her, he saw the endless tooth-filled maw she pretended to have in her insatiable hunger to take and devour and be and feel. But she had made a mistake; because an atrocity like her, like what she pretended to have made, could not exist on any of the planes. Not even the unending maelstrom would bear up under the weight of such a thing. 

She was a bluff, and Marrazaar wanted to feast upon her despair when he called hers. What a delightful day, to snuff this wax candle then crush the Bearer of The Mark. 

“I AM NOT IMPRESSED. CAN THE BEARER OF THE MARK NOT FIGHT HIS OWN BATTLES?” 

As Irihi crouched again beside her dark star, sending it forth with loving smile and open hand, Marrazaar surged forward, encircling the wandering well of darkness with it’s trunk of obsidian flesh. Grinning a rictus grin with its massive toothy maw, it--mocking Irihi’s gentle smile--shepherded the toddling star into its deadly jaws.

Just before the well of darkness tripped into Marrazaar’s murderous teeth, it turned to look back at Irihi. The void had no figure, no form that anyone could discern, but the weight of its attention was palpable, especially to Irihi.

Is it okay?

It’s okay my darling. Go ahead. Said the TonDen’s loving smile.

And the tiny void disappeared within Marrazaar’s insatiable maw of grinding death.

Irihi rose from where she crouched, lifting her open-palmed encouraging hand as she did so. The beatific expression upon her face was unaffected by the demon’s roaring laughter as its trunk snaked out now toward her. It was only when she closed her open hand into a fist that the slightest ripple tightened her bleak smile. 

Marrazaar’s laughter ceased. Something was wrong… inside. He was being pulled. Monstrous claws dug furrows in bare rock as the demon instinctively resisted the inexorable tug. 

But Marrazaar was not being pulled, he was being collapsed--being turned inside-out and strained into the endless depths of the black hole within him. Gravity strong enough to compress time shattered the bones and boiled the blood of the demon. Yet it was not just the physical manifestation of Marrazaar being destroyed; that had happened before. This time, though, the strings connecting corrupted soul and anchoring the demon to the chaotic plane were being pulled taunt, were being ripped apart like rotten silk. Guywires of a millennia of existence, thick enough to tilt hell off its axis, were pulled and snapped as reeds in a hurricane.

It happened quickly. The snapping of bones, screaming agony, and supersonic whistle of founts of blood bent back and sucked down into the desolate depths all ended before the echoes of Marrazar’s laughter settled. All that remained of the demon were great trenches of clawmarks in stone, and the same faintly pulsing darkness with which Irihi had come. It looked slightly more sated than before,

if endless emptiness can be filled.


Rigel and Lassroyale liked
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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  

DAETH

The Bearer of the Mark

╺ ✽ ╸

“When you are a hero you are always running to save someone, sweating, worried and guilty. When you are a villain you are just lurking in the shadows waiting for the hero to pass by. Then you pop them in the head and go home... piece of cake.” 

– James Marsters


[OOC: from the Sytamul Estate – The Grand Tiered Ballroom]

 

It felt like someone had kicked open the pandora's box of Daeth’s past and unceremoniously upended its contents—all of the memories, thoughts, and feelings he’d tried to keep dead and buried—into his present.  One could say that his ‘past had come back to haunt him—just in a more literal sense, he supposed.  (Although, considering what had gone on in the Aegis with Eddellyn…)

In that case, he admittedly wouldn’t mind being haunted more often.

All told, Daeth has the needling sense that somewhere, somehow, the Fates were having a laugh at his expense.   

They had to be—and a good one, too—because so far the whole evening was proving to be just too strange, ominous, and “coincidental”, for him to accept anything but  kismet as the explanation.  And Daeth appreciated their serendipitous influence in his life about as much as he appreciated a swift kick to the balls—he didn’t.  

Plus, the tonal dissonance that he’s experienced over the last several hours was threatening to give him a serious case of whiplash.

Okay, maybe it’s not quite that dramatic.  

He was  just caught off guard, is all.  

Who could blame him? 

Who wouldn’t be?

First Eddellyn.  

Then Slaan.  

…Maarazaar. 

And now…this: the svelte and sooty construct of a little Ash Bunny (despite the lack of fine detail, the contours of the TonDen’s grey–ashen form are unmistakably feminine), and her blackhole void…pet.  Or something.  To be honest, Daeth was less concerned with what the strange little blackhole void was—be it pet, thrall, monster, or something else entirely—than he was with how it had destroyed Maarazaar with the same childish, apathetic cruelty and mindless glee of a 2–year old smashing their sibling’s favorite toy into broken bits, simply because they had wanted to.

The pet void had compressed the house-sized daemon into its own center until it had broken the chains of Maarazaar’s existence, cracking apart the daemon’s anima with the finesse of an otter opening an oyster by brute force bashing “shucking” it against the side of its rock pool.  Then the void consumed everything that Maarazaar was, had been, and would be: the void collapsed all of Marazzar’s past, present, and unused future potential within the vacuous oblivion of its own emptiness, pressing the daemon in its entirety—thoughts, spirit, and physical form—into its apex…  

….and just like that, Maarazaar, daemon apostolis of the Deus in Manu Consilii, simply ceased.  

The little void and its Ash Bunny guardian were unquestionably dangerous.  

Yet…

The woad-dyed crepuscule embraced him as Daeth stepped out from the darkness that bordered the neatly manicured lawn opposite the cinder-grey Ash Bunny and little pet void.  He prowled forward into the clearing and paused once he came into plain view of the two figures. Without any flourish, the death angel banished his dark wings in a quiet and slightly supplicating gesture, though pointedly declined to vanish his weapon. There's a detached sort of relaxation pressed into the long line of Daeth’s body, his shoulders and hips unpinned from tension as he slowly approached at an unhurried and measured pace.  He maintained a bearing that was both deliberate yet maddeningly nonchalant, with one thumb hooked carelessly into his belt and Succubus  slung informally across his opposite shoulder; a few feet of the scythe’s elegantly carved shaft jutted over his shoulder, with the wicked-looking, crescent-shaped blade catching and reflecting the moonlight as it curved down towards his back and ground.

Daeth looked up and paused, recognition unexpectedly flaring through his startlingly bright amethyst gaze when the Ash Bunny raised her monochromatic, pupiless eyes to his own.  Something clenched low in his belly as he felt the pulse of her presence brush against him, triggering a feeling of bone-deep familiarity that swept through his skin, pieces of sense and memory abruptly coming into alignment.  Daeth’s eyes are too vivid in the gloom, the amethyst vibrancy incandescent as the radiation leak of her aura washed through him, leaching from her TonDen in radial, cold burn waves of barely constrained spite and fury.  

He came to an abrupt halt just a few feet past the halfway mark as he’s struck by the profound sense of absolute certainty that spooled through him.

Because he knows who she is.   Her; the monster creature woman  behind the facsimile of the Grey Ash TonDen. 

 

The unrelenting, grinding rage…

 

That pervasive sense of inevitability…

 

The Tartarean aura is unmistakable.

 

Daeth would recognize it anywhere.

 

He thought back to when he first caught the trace scent of that unique and potent energy: in faded traces of miasmal residue that had lingered, even several months later, in the desecrated aftermath of Kiana’s trauma. 

Once Daeth had become aware of the unique energy of that powerful aura, he’d picked up on its vestigial remnants, everywhere. He tracked her distinctive signature far and wide (it wasn’t difficult; she seemed to leave her fingerprints on the blasphemed remains of everything she touched)  and discovered a path of destruction left in its wake that spanned multiple continents.  As Daeth visited these sites, many of which were still recovering from the chaos and destruction that had been wrought, he spoke to the mournful spirits whose souls were caught in limbo, unable to reconcile their own demise to pass on.  And every single one of those lost and trapped souls gave Daeth the same answer when he asked them what had caused the devastation at that location.  

They always offered the same four words, spoken without fail:

 

Irihi Spokelse.

 

The Atrocity.

 

Daeth blinked and pulled away from his thoughts, and turned to look at the representation of the woman herself.  He made an intense study of Irihi’s TonDen, settling the full bore of his amethyst gaze upon her.  The shadowed angles and moonlit planes of his defined features momentarily drew out the dark angel’s elemental otherness, highlighting a cruel beauty that was almost difficult to look upon, like something too perfect that didn’t belong in a worlde of imperfections.  Something moved in the depths of Daeth’s amethyst gaze, and his presence suddenly seemed to spiral out, vast, overwhelming, and inescapable.  The unexpected pull of his aura was neither hard nor gentle, but poignant; not to be ignored.  It was terribly magnetic, its allure at once seductively enticing and yet ravenously greedy. 

Daeth looked away from Ash Bunny Irihi, breaking the connection, the formidable sense of his presence lessening, but not entirely disappearing.  When Irihi’s TonDen bent down to the little void at her side, he watched the interaction with a deceptive air of relaxed indifference.  He was intensely intrigued by the manner in which irihi acted towards the blackhole void; her solicitous handling and gentle body language came across as oddly....intimate.  

It was only when he glanced at her face, did he start to understand the nature of the relationship he saw play out before him.   The expression carved into the grey ash of the TonDen’s features could only be described as one thing: loving.   And as he watched the various emotions ripple across her ashen face, he understood. Protectiveness. Joy.  Pride.  Sorrow.  LongingAnd rising across each emotion that moved across her face, was a fierce and boundless love.

It wasn’t just love that Irihi had for the little void; it was maternal love.   It was the deep and unquestioning love a mother has for her child.  

Daeth shifted his attention when he saw Irihi nod in his direction, her expression beatific as she encouraged her “child” towards him with a gente nudge.  He straightened slightly, wary though not yet alarmed, as Irihi’s little blackhole child toddled in his direction.  “Maybe it's her blackhole son,” he thought, his lips twitching in amusement.  As he watched her little blackhole son stumble and weave its way over the grass, Daeth got the strong impression of a toddler who’d just started walking and wasn’t yet used to their legs.  Well, the dark angel thought that all toddlers and young children acted like adorable little drunk people, anyway.  Think about it: both drunks and toddlers wobbled about unsteadily; they both couldn’t form coherent sentences; each were prone to violent mood swings, going from mad temper tantrums to violent crying; and both of them have probably thrown up on someone else and shit their own pants, at least once. 

He was distracted by the amusing trend of his thoughts, and missed the fact that the little void was nearly upon him.  Until he felt something bump against his shin.  Startled, Daeth almost brought Succubus to bear, but glanced down first and saw that the blackhole son was, somehow, looking up at him.  Don't ask how he knew.  Still...he couldn’t shake the idea that the…child was standing and looking up at him, as it tried to devour everything that Daeth ever was, will, and would be.  Even as he thought it, the dark angel became aware of a kind of light pressure that was compressing him on all sides, as if the void child (or whatever) was trying to gum him to death.

Daeth also had the distinct impression that he was being slobbered on, like he was being used as a Death Angel shaped teething ring.

 

It was somewhat disconcerting.  

 

And (really) gross.

 

When the little void child started to consume Succubus, however, Daeth put his foot down.

 

Hey, no,” he said in a firm, gently admonishing tone.  Gods, his life was just so weird, sometimes—he never thought that scolding a void-shaped blackhole child would ever be something he’d need to do, but here we are.  Repressing his instinct to laugh at the sheer incongruity of it all, Daeth squatted down in front of the little void, sighing when he saw that about a quarter of Succubus had disappeared into the empty blackness at its apex.  He shook his head sternly.

No,” he said again.   He went on, ignoring the absurdity of the situation. “It’s not nice to eat someone else’s weapons,” he said, quickly catching hold of the scythe before any more of her disappeared into the void’s vacuous center.  “The only time that might  be okay,” he reasoned, “is if someone has attacked you.  Then you’d be defending yourself.”  Daeth peered into what he felt was the void child’s face—or thereabouts.  “Have I attacked you?”  he asked.  

Somehow, he knew the little void shook its head.  

Okay then, let go and give her back,” he said  firmly.  The little void seemed to quiver in place for a second, before all at once Succubus  was spit back up onto the ground.  Daeth grimaced when he picked up the weapon, unable to shake the feeling that the little void had regurgitated the scythe along with plenty of drool and upchuck.  Holding Succubus  carefully between two fingers as if it was covered in invisible spit up, the dark angel banished the weapon with a quick flick of his wrist.  He wiped his hand on his pants.

Let’s not repeat that again,” he muttered.  He eyed the little void, under the impression that it was tugging on his pant leg and looking back towards the Irihi Ash Bunny, who’d been carefully watching them the whole time.  Daeth thought for a moment, looking between Irihi’s TonDen and her blackhole son.  After a moment, he bent down and more or less scooped up the little void child and straightened as he examined an odd disconnect: for all the world it looked like he held nothing in his arms but a void of blackness...except for the sheer, gravitational density  he felt pulling at him and making the void feel unreasonably heavy.  The dark angel grunted, and then kind of braced the little void against his hip, making it easier to carry.  He didn’t have the mental fortitude to examine any of the how’s or why’s or what the f*cks? right then, and just accepted it.

Jeezus, you’re solid,” Daeth grumbled.  “What’s your mother been feeding you?” he questioned.  He couldn’t suppress a dry chuckle as he asked: “House-sized daemon apostles?” 

Shaking his head, Daeth deliberately approached the Irihi Ash Bunny, stopping before her.  He didn’t say anything right away, nor did he relinquish his hold on her blackhole son, choosing to take advantage of his close proximity to study her ashen figure in its entirety.  At length, he raised his amethyst eyes and met her monochromatic stare.

Irihi Spokelse,” he said, raising an expressive brow.  “Bene non vos iustus pulcherrimum et maxime cruentum parum Cinis Lepus?”  The smile that Daeth gave her was mostly teeth and sharp with vicious amusement.

 


Translation:

Spoiler
Bene non vos iustus pulcherrimum et maxime cruentum parum Cinis Lepus?

Well aren't you just the prettiest and most bloodthirsty little Ash Bunny?

Listening to: Caribou Lou” by Tech N9ne  /  The Mission” (M is for Milla mix) by Pucsifer

 

This post was modified 1 week ago 17 times by Lassroyale
This post was modified 6 days ago by Lassroyale

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi and Wynterleaf liked
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Irihi
(@irihi)
Villainess Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 754
 

Irihi

Ashen eyes narrowed as a man emerged from the darkness and silence left after the demon was consumed. He could not be described as anything but beautiful; too infuriatingly beautiful. Sight of him made ashen eyes burn in their dry dust sockets. That this zenith of male form and figure casually walked the worlde free and unencumbered vexed Irihi. How dare he so nonchalantly take in the devouring of Maarazaar and the approach of her…

…source 

…of

…necromancy

as though it was his right to exist in the worlde she so desperately sought to end. As if he was the ONE of these ants who could sense the great foot hanging just above their heads, ready to press down and press out and press flat into a thin red goo all life and light of this place because her… 

source

Was a bottomless, lifeless, nothingness that could never be filled. Never.

Yet, in knowing this, he shrugged at the incipient end of all things, yawned at her barely-restrained ill intent, and scooped her him up, and spoke to him, and treated him as if he existed. Every gentle word from the death angel’s lips sent spikes of fury rolling across Irihi’s TonDen. 

How dare he. 

Again, Irihi raised her open hand and folded her fingers into a closed fist. The nothingness deepened, touched the worlde with just the most infinitesimal part of its gravity. 

The garden groaned. Thick trunks of the century-manicured trees twisted and splintered as they were drawn toward the nothingness. The bricks of the mansion rattled and pulverized as the bacteria living within them were pulled toward it, each cell of those tiny lives crushed inward with the force of a team of oxen. Dirt and flowers, worms and birds, had the essence of life drawn into the bottomless empty. 

The death angel’s hair was slightly ruffled, as if the pull of infinity were nothing but a light breeze to him. 

Irihi let her hand drop to her side. The absence that was her Source was not to be filled with worms and rabbit poop. She did not weave life like that two-bit gravel witch. It DID matter what went in. Her tastes were more discerning, and right now, she wanted to discern why she could not pull the exasperatingly-attract nice looking gentleman, now wiping the stuff of collapsed stars on his pant leg, screaming into her void where he everything belonged. 

Before she could, however, the emptiness vanished. Air rushed in to the space where it had not been. Irihi’s TonDen, likewise rippled with the departure of her master and his summons to accompany him. The ashen caricature of a woman could not hold on to her s could not prevent the void from being taken going away, but she could dig her claws into this part of the worlde for a moment. The grey ash of her TonDen had been ordered to disperse, but the elfwitch held it together long enough to stalk foward toward the death angel. 

He called her pretty. That she liked. He also called her “bloodthirsty” and “bunny”. On those, the juy was still out. Did he mean bloodthirsty in a good way?

Pushing back the cowl of her faux robe that covered her faux body, she looked up--he’s tall too--with pupil-less granite-hued eyes narrowed above smoke cheeks pushed up by a single-canine sneer that was one hair shy of a snarl. Rising on the balls of non-feet, she placed both hands upon Daeth’s chest and scented him, intimately, from his clavicle to the lobe of his ear.

It was a wide-eyed monochromatic look of shock that would be Daeth’s last impression of the witch’s TonDen, before it collapsed into ash that fell at his feet, with a ridiculous amount of it--seemingly almost purposefully--sloughing into his shoes.

If he looked down, Daeth would find two handprints of long-dried black blood left behind where the TonDen’s hands had rested. They were very flakey, very itchy, and--like metallic glitter--impossible to completely be rid of.  

To: Naith Tuliin. 


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
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Journey starter  

DAETH

The Bearer of the Mark

╺ ✽ ╸

“In order to realize the worth of the anchor we need to feel the stress of the storm.” 

–  Corrie Ten Boom

 

Daeth admittedly didn’t really know what he was expecting to accomplish by picking up the void, that absence of nothing that reminded him of a toddling child, and approaching TonDen that represented Irihi Spokelse—the TonDen that represented The Atrocity.  He supposed that it was part morbid curiosity that informed his actions, some perverse need he had to poke the bear (or maybe ‘spank poke the sorceressin this case) and provoke a reaction.  It wasn’t a healthy impulse by any means, but the second that Daeth had realized whos  TonDen stood before him, he’d been gripped by an intense and unequivocal fascination with the woman behind the construct, that bordered weirdly on attraction.  There was something dangerously magnetic about the all-consuming hate and deep-seated disdain that Irihi seemed to display for people and towards  the worlde in general, that felt so incongruous with the expression of boundless motherly love that emanated from her TonDen, whenever she looked upon the little void.

The little void; her son, and if he’s not mistaken, her source of necromancy.

As far as Daeth knew there was only one way to produce such a source of nigh-fathomless, cosmic power, and it was rooted within the ancient foundations of a truly abhorrent, primal necromantic ritual.

The death angel's sentiments toward necromancy were, at best, conflicted, and he couldn't stop the instinctual hostility that welled up within him at the notion that some mere mortals  imagined themselves to be masters of Death.  His lips briefly twisted into a thin sneer, rankled by the thought, but the expression was transient and his features quickly settled back into a smooth mask of curious indifference.

Then his expression transitioned again, this time becoming one of surprise as, without any warning, the Irihi’s little blackhole son dispersed with a sharp crack! of displaced atmosphere, followed by a whoosh!  as the air rushed in to fill the space the void had occupied—and yeah, Daeth was not going to ponder how contradictory that  was, right then.  Before the dark angel could make a comment one way or another, Irihi’s TonDen moved in close, disregarding any concept of personal space as she tilted her face up towards his.  She stared up at him for a moment with her monochromatic visage, a derisive sneer curling her grey-ash lips, an expression of cool and utter contempt plainly conveyed in her pupil-less gaze. 

Without warning, Irihi’s TonDen crowded forward and braced her palms firmly against his chest, and then, with a bold audacity Daeth hadn't expected, pressed her nose into the soft dip at the base of his throat.  She inhaled deeply, tracing a long line up the column of his neck to the underside of his jaw, pausing briefly, before nudging upwards to the lobe of his ear.

Daeth didn't shy away from the touch, even though the intimate contact was unexpected.  The Grey Ash of Irihi’s TonDen was so finely milled that its texture felt surprisingly dry and velvety when it dragged against his skin, but it wasn’t the physical sensation that surprised him.  It was the brush of her aura, of her soul  against his as it leaked through the cracks of her grey-ash construct, that Daeth felt so strongly—so intimately—like she had reached into him and teasingly caressed the tips of those slender, dexterous fingers against the shape of his Grace.  And although the brush of her soul against his felt like the burn of cold, white heat tracing a path through the tarnished planes of his Grace, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. 

Far from it. 

He barely had time to wonder what his soul grazed against the nucleus of her own Stygian essence felt like in return, when, with a wide-eyed look of shock clearly telegraphed within her monochromatic gaze, Irihi’s TonDen abruptly collapsed.  She left plenty of proof of herself behind, including her astonished expression sharp in his mind’s eye, the huge amount of grey ash piled at his feet, and the impression of her hands stamped upon his chest with the faintly metallic ink of her long-dried, black blood.

There was no time to take any of it in, for Daeth had scarcely perceived the look of shock that had contorted her grey, monochrome features when Eddellyn’s tremendous, psychic cry jagged through his mind, her mental warning instantly cutting through thought and soul.

 

DAETH!

 

He was gone before the echoes of Eddellyn's psychic shout had even settled.

 

[OOC: to the Estate Grounds–North: Hidden Garden Clearing]

This post was modified 5 days ago 4 times by Lassroyale

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
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RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
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