Post by JR on Sept 29, 2015 2:22:45 GMT -8
Characters: Alice & Abaddon
TW: None
Summary: After a few mentions in distaste of organized magic, Alice decided to come clean about her active role in the Council ( save the juiciest bit ), and Abaddon finds opportunity in his little water-witch.
Alice: Right. So. Where were we? A whirlwind of days that were mostly a blur of too much sex in a cave and a bloodthirsty little shadow monster, and a book of spells fine tuned just for her. They had Alice in a tizzy, happyhappy girl. Except for one thing. Words he'd said in the heat of the moment with his mouth feeding from hers. They weren't bound by rules or law, or things. Or Councils. Bound by nothing. They would linger on, as the world eroded, and Alice could think of nothing better. But it was not the first time mention had been made of a thing like a council, and not the first time there'd been an edge to his voice when the word was even mentioned. That had Alice in less of a tizzy. Secrets ran amok when it came to that very word, and it was a thing that worried her as she lay in their bed; sated and boneless and naked, with just the sheet drawn up to cover 'round her hips. She was flipping through the book of spells that he'd bound for her, and she was alone -- but just so. The bed was still nearly hot to the touch where he'd just left it, and Alice drifted towards the middle of the bed some to get more of that heat. Worrying on the scab that was slowly becoming a scar on her lower lip, she clutched the open book to her bare breasts and studied the ceiling for a moment. She couldn't hear him, but now she tried; tuning out everything in her head except for the sounds her man might make somewhere in the house -- and hearing nothing, she frowned around the way she bit into her lip. Alice lay the book gently to the side, carefully closing it to make sure the pages wouldn't get creased and she scooted herself to the edge of the bed; taking the sheet with her and wrapping it about her nudity until she was shrouded in the black softly spun sheets from shoulders to her feet. Messy hair caught beneath it as well, but she swept it to the side as not to trip on it when she made for the stairs that would take her to the first level of the house. "Abaddon?," her tone was curious when she called out his name. "Love?" She kept a look out as she crept in the dark -- who needed light these days? -- for Francis, should he try and sneak up on her and shiv her from behind. Never knew with that Golem. -d-
Abaddon: The empty house was actually full. She may have actually started to realize this the longer she was around and the more often she saw Abaddon actually peeling things out from some invisible protection. One minute he'd be walking across the center of the room, the next he was leaning against a table in the center. He'd pull silver flasks out of a fridge, platters out of cabinets that were never there, even his dresser would come and go depending upon whether or not he remembered to put the magic cloak over it or not. And she'd also pick up on the small changes now and again. For instance, he'd wander down a hall and be thinking about how annoyingly far a certain room was, so he'd shift it for another. And the basement door. It moved all the time, the tunnel down always changing, always shifting. The malleable domicile forever altered and hiding, a mystery that could never be solved. But, she would be catching onto it. All it took was experience and practice, and being among the energy. And she probably wasn't there quite yet, but she too would be able to make adjustments. And even sense where things were in the house without even a thought, the fact she was listening for him meant either a) he hadn't told her she could do that or b) she just hadn't fully connected with that magic yet. Which was nothing to be sullen over, it was difficult to master reality. When she began calling in the dark she did happen to stumble upon Frank, a guy who actually could have used the lights. Instead he carried around a flashlight, phone, or candle. And right now it was a flashlight. Blinding beam flipped her face while he was ascending the stairs to the second floor. The flick of the light on her face was immediately drawn away, not desiring to catch her ire, but also wanting to know exactly where she was. He flipped the light down and finished the last few steps. He fished out his cellphone and wrote on a piece of paper, tiny notebook he started to carry around with a golfing pencil. Short stubby thing. Basement written in all capital letters and shown to her before pushing himself into the corner so she could mosey on by and go after him if she chose. And that is where Abaddon was, the door left open and he was sitting Indian style in the dirt. Candles were lit in a circle while he wrote in a human-flesh bound book, the dried skin appeared like leather, stitched together with thread and magic. The voices in his head were becoming more and more paranoid, pieces of him up in revolt and not at all happy about how easily they (yes they) were giving themselves over to the seductive, addictive girl. He agreed Alice needed more trials, needed to prove she was really his still, but that didn't mean he was going to doubt any less that she was who she was. Something needed to be done, and he had a few ideas of what to do. <done>
Alice: Abaddon was really going to have to work on teaching her that trick about moving bits and pieces of this house around. Totally unfair that he was the only one that knew how to do it at this point and time. Just you wait, mister. The blinding flash of light across her eyes was met with a hand automatically rising to shield her precious peepers from it, but it was gone just before she could fully get her hand there. Franny didn't need the light to see the annoyance on her face at that, but when he shuffled out of her way and showed her his stubby handwriting with Don's location, she very sweetly chirped at, "Thank you, Franny-lanny-bing-bong." She even gave him a friendly pat on his broad shoulder, and then bounced down the rest of the steps. Worry crept back into her expression, with the raise of words she didn't want to say raising into the well of her throat. Alice chewed along her lip again, and had the copper taste of her own blood drifting over her taste buds by the time she was stepping down the basement stairs. The sheet was gathered in her hand to keep it from catching her toes on those dangerous steps, but Alice dropped it to the dirt floor when she reached the bottom. His name didn't drip from her alluring mouth this time, not when she could see him perfectly there in his criss cross sit. No, she only approached silently -- her steps like air, especially here when the moisture was thickest in the basement and she could pull at the air and use it to make herself so much lighter. It was at his circle that she went still, as she hadn't permission to enter -- a thing that quirked up her mouth just a smidge, thinking on the last time one of them had come upon the other in a fire lit circle. Tongue pushed at the cut at her lip again, with her lips delicately pressed together, and she waited. Not particularly wanting to interrupt, no matter how impatient that made her, and how she had to start rocking on her heels after only a few moments because standing still was not something Alice Clare was very good at. In fact, she was horrible at it. But at least she was quiet this time, while he wrote in his book and thought thoughts he shouldn't be having about his dangerous little love. But what did she know about all that? -d-
Abaddon: Probably little. Abaddon was extremely conscious of the way he presented himself to the world, and he was an extremely complex beast (even if he seemed simple sometimes). Even her, this girl he found and began to lose parts of himself to, he couldn't break the walls he built up over centuries. He knew where she was. Knew she called for him. Knew everything that happened inside those walls, everything recorded and remembered. By the time she was downstairs he had applied grin to his face carefully, fingers even spreading and sifting over his moustache to insure it was properly molded to accentuate his joy. The purest joy that lived on his demeanor like he never scraped his knee. Not even once. The candles that were lit in a circle were void of energy and power, beyond the basic heat that simmered off of him all the time. That heat was lifted and caught by the circle, but there was no protection. No readied energy to push her or fight against, and he even made his body go taut as he rocked himself and keep legs locked. He flopped a little on his side and stretched a long limb out, fingers curling at the edge of a candle and moving it to show her she could come through. "Come sit in my lap while I read." He wasn't too frightened about her reading the words on the page. It was written in the language of dream demons, and monsters of the human mind. He had one of those locked up against his soul, it was the only way he'd be able to make sense of the hieroglyphics written in blood. He moved the book from his lap partially when he rocked back onto his satin clad ass. Don had actually taken the time to put pants on, satin and black, and so soft against his skin. Naked was for spell-casting and wandering in the woods, but when he was relaxing... it was all satin, velvet, and silk. A strong thigh patted by his left hand before stretching same hand out to reach for her, and help her get into his lap. <done>
Alice: Alice just watched, waiting several fluttery heartbeats, while her belly revolted against her and clenched a little like it did when she was about to do something she really didn't want to do. Like whisper confessions in a damp dark magic riddled basement. Her mouth did that same quirk though, when he invited her into his circle, and Alice gathered up the loose material of the sheets from their bed until they were around her knees and stepped over the remaining candles around that part of the circle until she was safely passed the flames. "What are you reading?," because she was ever curious about literature, no matter the kind. Even in just the first glance, she didn't recognize the language on the page -- or if it even was a language at all. Sliding the softness of her touch into the hardness of his, Alice settled into his lap; snuggling down against him for the ultimate of comfortable positions, as if he were nothing more than a pile of pillows for her to lounge so easily against. But she was so glad he wasn't made of soft stuff. In fact, she'd have him no other way than this. Hard bodied, his muscles lean and well defined in his tall stature. A sigh fluttered out against the fragrant air of the esoteric room. Silken strands caught in his chest hair and in his beard when Alice shifted her shoulders a little to tilt her head back along the broad span of his shoulder, so she could study his face. "Do you remember last night? When I asked if you trusted me, and then I gave you a boner drug you don't need? I won't do that again," Alice frowned a little -- knowing the pair of them were a bit raw in places they needed be, despite having used those places again just a bit ago. "But I'm rather pleased that you trust me. I need that you know. Most don't. Ophelia doesn't, but she's every right to not. My grandfather, he doesn't. But I think I scare him most of all. Do I scare you?" She had a point, she knew she did. It was there. She just had to find it. Tongue dashed out against her lip again, and Alice's hand had found a place against his knee; the tip of her finger drawing shapes she wasn't paying attention to. But if he really paid attention to them, he'd feel her tracing the shape of the hieroglyphics on the page he had open in his leather-flesh book. -d-
Abaddon: The grin remained carved into the deep black of his beard, it was black in shadowed places like the basement, and green eyes perused after her. He did let his gaze linger around the unbundled bits of sheets that chased her, leaving its drag across dusted ground. Down she came, once softness fell to his strength, drawing his soulmate into the expanse of his lap. Legs loosened some in their twist, opening some to let her rump fill the gap of limbs. One arm immediately encircling her waist, fingers managing to find the slits in the silk, drawing through one layer and another, and resting along the bareness of her tummy. Fingertips scooted calloused tips across smooth skin while she spoke, book re-opened and placed in her lap. He took a hand to her forearm and drew her touch to the edge of the book, fingers placed on the corner of vellum. Tips of inky fingers drifted to her forearm while she began to speak, the warmth of his breath on nape of neck while words fell to her ear. "You scare me in a different way than you scare your grandfather I imagine. You scare me because of what I am willing to do for you. Give up for you. And let you do to me." There were power in words, all words. Truths and lies, but here he only gave truth, and he knew that was power in them. Such strong things. The implications behind the words, his motivations for sharing truths with her, the true intentions of his strength. Pointer and middle finger rolled down her forearm to the edge of her wrist. "Go on, turn the page. These are some rituals and spells that I've collected. It's soul magic, dream magic." The next page was actually something she may have understood, not the words and symbols, but the large illustration of a dream-catcher, but it was obviously the bits of webbing were made of feathers, skin, bone, and bits of meat. <done>
Alice: The warmth of his hand against the coolness of her smooth belly, once he found it beneath the folds of silk that made up the sheet that covered her, was a thing that settled the nerves there in a way that made her wonder about it. How could she be so .. comfortable with this man, in a way she wasn't with those she's known her entire life, with the one she came into this world with? Alice nuzzled her cheek softly against his chest, fingering at the edges of the pages where he placed her fingers. "He's afraid of what I'll do. He looks at me, with every passing moment, as if that next one will be the one where he has to kill me." There was no sadness as she spoke of it, it was just simply how it was. "I like your kind of scared much better," a grin pulled at her mouth now, and dutifully she turned the page when he urged. Blues drifted south, to the open spread of the book in her lap, and she studied the dream catcher on the page now, rather than his devilishly handsome face. Alice's touch skimmed over the drawing, tracing along the pattern the feathers and bones and skin and meat made to create the catcher part of it all. Her other hand did the same. Drew the same pattern, just on his silk clad thigh. "You should know who my grandfather is, Don. Where I come from." The pair of them, they only spoke of these things in bits and pieces and never just straight out. She watched the nail of her thumb trace down a bone resembling a small tibia, and then lifted her sights back to the bearded dragon who was her throne. "Centuries ago, when it was all the rage to burn a witch while she or he still lived, just because of the fear of something that is still so misunderstood today .. six families across the UK, before it was the UK, came together and formed a council to protect their loved ones, protect their kind. To protect those on this side of the Veil, and even those behind it. My grandfather's grandfather was part of the founding Elders." There was the smallest furrow between her brows, and Alice turned a little in the cradle of his arms and lap. "The title has been handed down, to my great grandfather. To my grandfather, for the last fifty years. My entire world has been wrapped up in it, for as long as I can remember. Between him, and Argosy -- just the council. Always the council, everything we do, as Donovan's is for the council. Because of the council. Affects the council. Which is why, until you, I've tried so hard to be .. normal." As normal as one who was made from magic could be, I suppose. "Hiding all the dark, until I broke from it. Scaring him." -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon had begun his little worms spinning silks across the world to tell him the tale of who Alice Clare was, but he had yet to actually read any of the information that had been sent. Instead he blindly wandered into the oceans to see what would come, neverminding that he may have to swim back at some point. Too much confidence in the waters that he swam. He listened intently, listening to her words while eyes read from the book. He would pause intermittently to process what he read and also take in tolerate directed towards her, malice and wrath. The prickles of his beard tickled at her back and palm slid down the smoothness of stomach to right below her breast where beating heart lay. The plush mound grazed by inked fingers, but not directly, only feeling the crease of milky skin. She spoke of councils. Spoke of Argosy. Spoke of a Veil, protection, magic, Elders, Grandfathers. It was all wrapped into the story she told, but by the end of it he still was focused primarily on the best way of setting up a meeting with the old man to see if he warranted a quick sentencing. Should she be there? Why not? It would only make sense for her to be there if he deserved to die. That was true. Tongue molested the inside of his lip while he turned the page again as he realized there was a bit of silence. Only the whispers in the dark, for the girl winded herself and was undoubtedly waiting for reflections from him. Tip of finger rose carefully to the only "clear" portion on these pages which was an arm extended out and lines drawn horizontally across, little dashes that covered the inside part of wrist to elbow. "... What things does this Council do? What type of things do they say? How do they protect?" The words muttered so smoothly which was strange because he hadn't even known that was what he was summoning with serpent's tongue. He didn't question what he said, or why he said, or how it had come to be when he had been thinking of the grandfather and his demise to come. He took the fated path with a kiss lightly dabbed on her shoulder. He reached a finger that traced the glyphs carefully, shifting along the bloodied page as he read. <done>
Alice: "They create the laws, they protect the witches, and the wizards and those who are tied to them here in the UK," she answered two of the three questions quietly; her head tilting in so that her forehead rested to his cheek when he bent to smear a kiss to her bare shoulder. "What do they say? Lots of things." She craned back, and her hand lifted from the book so that she could delve her fingers into his beard; mimicking the way his own fingers moved just below the weight of her softly plump breast. Such gossamer touches, that made Alice's skin tingle and her spine arch ever so against him. "Any are welcome to attend the meetings, and they speak on ways to .. keep balance between humankind and ours. Ways to secret ourselves among them, to blend and live. And more .. the Council will cover up the times when that secret is tested and revealed. There's so many under their protection, and not just the members of the families, and other beings. There's artifacts, and locations being watched. There's books. So many books." She had mentioned Argosy, hadn't she? "And they work to keep the Veil strong. So that it doesn't break, so that we're not hunted and slaughtered." Here's where Alice went quiet, because here is where she'd always been so confused about. A thing that was common nature among many of the creatures that the Council had among their kind. A thing that was made to be snuffed out, and so deeply frowned about. Though perhaps that was just Charles. "To keep us from hunting and slaughtering." A decent girl would have guilt in her eyes when she spoke of the things Abaddon had been teaching her. A decent girl might frown and blush as she brought to light what was immorally wrong between them. This wasn't a decent girl. In fact, her fingers tightened in his beard with just the mention of those two awfully delicious things, and her thumb skimmed up along his bottom lip, and then past it just a little to feel the warmth and wet that sat just beyond the outside of his mouth. "He wants to rid the world of the dark, and there's others who feel just the same." Ohh, but there were some too, who wanted to bask in that darkness. Balance be damned. -d-
Abaddon: Bemused grin remained his attention drawn to her when she began on the hunting and killing, which they had certainly done in the short span of time they had together. Greens perched on the beautiful face that he brought fingers up to, having abandoned its post near her tit. The tips of fingers sifted along chin and up the jaw. Thumb skidded itself beneath the jut of chin and spread fingers out along cheek. "You see though. You know. It's all fake. It's not real. It's nothing. Those who know only the light live in a darkness all themselves, a blindness. It is worse than the things we do, because they ignore the laws of nature. Defy what they are, and they are all monsters. Your grandfather even." He mumbled while they touched each other's faces in gentle molestation. That was not his only violation, of her soul too, when greens sank themselves in her blues and leaned forward to give tiniest kiss to her mouth. Gentle as the rake of knuckles when hand turned and fell off from the side of her face to return to the comfort inside sheets. Breast taken up and merely felt by a resting hand while he continued to speak. "...you believe.. this council will allow you to exist with me?" Said quietly while gaze took from her seas to set sail back upon the flesh of the page, the final bits analyzed, but he didn't turn the page. Instead flipped back to the beginning of the book with a couple swipes of his thumb. "... you can either hide from them, eat them, or make them be as you want them." At least those were the only results he had ever come upon. And sometimes a little bit of all three happened, most times. <done>
Alice: The thicket of her lashes narrowed together just slightly, thoughtfully as she absorbed the way he spoke of a different version of monsters. A far worse version of monsters. Alice's thumb pushed up, rubbing over his two front teeth to mess with his words, and then her brow lifted when he included her grandfather in that list. "I never thought of it that way." She paused, a frown deepening at her naturally down turned mouth. "Or maybe I did. It never felt right, the way they look at me. The way I've had to pretend, so that no one knew how wrong I am." The turn of phrase was not her own, but one she'd heard a hundred times in her grandfather's gravelly tone. Her hand moved away, to glide fingers down the length of his neck when his mouth found hers for that soft kiss that had her lips curving around it, and her cheek nuzzling into the touch of his fingers. His question was met with silence, Alice staring up at him, even when he turned his attention back to the book, and his thoughts voiced to what would have to be done in the long term. Alice's face scrunched just a bit, there in the nose and the mouth and the brows, and she moved about in his lap -- knocking the book from her own, until she was facing him and her long legs were all but tangled in the sheets around them in a weird attempt ( and fail ) to get them around his waist. "I believe they've no choice. I believe that now, with my eyes open, no one ``allows`` me to do anything, but myself. I also believe that they won't make it easy on it, but I welcome { on us, not it. weird } the difficulty they wish to bring our way." Small hands came up, one resting against the side of his face, and the other swimming it's way up into the dark of his hair, her gaze watching the travel path a moment before they went back to lock on his serpentine stare. "I'm not hiding from shit anymore. I had a choice, right there in front of me, weeks ago. And here I am." Too bad fate had a choice too, and had chosen our Alice for something she couldn't run away from no matter how far deep in the dark she went. Or could even talk about. -d-
one reaI bad man [5:24 A.M.]: She tried and failed, but he put his hand to the test while she spoke. He let his face dip in front of hers, snakes lurking in her lakes again. Grinning face close enough to feel her breath like air kisses against his mouth. "There are ways of hiding while not hiding, dear Alice. Sometimes only to get your foot in the door. There are things we can do, measures we can take." It was so peculiar the way fate worked. The steps he took, the things he did, the processes his mind took him. Those voices. So wary of her that drew him to a spell. A spell he had begun to consider for himself, but now saw opportunity in her. Opportunity for them. Not even thinking twice to consider whether she was worthy for the task or not, if she was his partner she could endure all. Do all. He had faith. "Sometimes choosing to do or behave a way you are asked, gives you power. Gives you the power to do as you please, in places you may not have been able to before. Think of it as a game, really. And be willing to take back of all that you give. And perhaps, we can play spy with you. You tell me the things. We hide you from them. And then together we plot and decide what to do with the your friends and council people. Just until we know that they won't bother with us anymore..? How do these schemes sound to you.. oh... Wait." He shifted the blankets aside to satin trousers which had been drawn down enough upon thigh, drawing tired thing down upon the exposed flesh. As they end with what they had started with. <done>
TW: None
Summary: After a few mentions in distaste of organized magic, Alice decided to come clean about her active role in the Council ( save the juiciest bit ), and Abaddon finds opportunity in his little water-witch.
Alice: Right. So. Where were we? A whirlwind of days that were mostly a blur of too much sex in a cave and a bloodthirsty little shadow monster, and a book of spells fine tuned just for her. They had Alice in a tizzy, happyhappy girl. Except for one thing. Words he'd said in the heat of the moment with his mouth feeding from hers. They weren't bound by rules or law, or things. Or Councils. Bound by nothing. They would linger on, as the world eroded, and Alice could think of nothing better. But it was not the first time mention had been made of a thing like a council, and not the first time there'd been an edge to his voice when the word was even mentioned. That had Alice in less of a tizzy. Secrets ran amok when it came to that very word, and it was a thing that worried her as she lay in their bed; sated and boneless and naked, with just the sheet drawn up to cover 'round her hips. She was flipping through the book of spells that he'd bound for her, and she was alone -- but just so. The bed was still nearly hot to the touch where he'd just left it, and Alice drifted towards the middle of the bed some to get more of that heat. Worrying on the scab that was slowly becoming a scar on her lower lip, she clutched the open book to her bare breasts and studied the ceiling for a moment. She couldn't hear him, but now she tried; tuning out everything in her head except for the sounds her man might make somewhere in the house -- and hearing nothing, she frowned around the way she bit into her lip. Alice lay the book gently to the side, carefully closing it to make sure the pages wouldn't get creased and she scooted herself to the edge of the bed; taking the sheet with her and wrapping it about her nudity until she was shrouded in the black softly spun sheets from shoulders to her feet. Messy hair caught beneath it as well, but she swept it to the side as not to trip on it when she made for the stairs that would take her to the first level of the house. "Abaddon?," her tone was curious when she called out his name. "Love?" She kept a look out as she crept in the dark -- who needed light these days? -- for Francis, should he try and sneak up on her and shiv her from behind. Never knew with that Golem. -d-
Abaddon: The empty house was actually full. She may have actually started to realize this the longer she was around and the more often she saw Abaddon actually peeling things out from some invisible protection. One minute he'd be walking across the center of the room, the next he was leaning against a table in the center. He'd pull silver flasks out of a fridge, platters out of cabinets that were never there, even his dresser would come and go depending upon whether or not he remembered to put the magic cloak over it or not. And she'd also pick up on the small changes now and again. For instance, he'd wander down a hall and be thinking about how annoyingly far a certain room was, so he'd shift it for another. And the basement door. It moved all the time, the tunnel down always changing, always shifting. The malleable domicile forever altered and hiding, a mystery that could never be solved. But, she would be catching onto it. All it took was experience and practice, and being among the energy. And she probably wasn't there quite yet, but she too would be able to make adjustments. And even sense where things were in the house without even a thought, the fact she was listening for him meant either a) he hadn't told her she could do that or b) she just hadn't fully connected with that magic yet. Which was nothing to be sullen over, it was difficult to master reality. When she began calling in the dark she did happen to stumble upon Frank, a guy who actually could have used the lights. Instead he carried around a flashlight, phone, or candle. And right now it was a flashlight. Blinding beam flipped her face while he was ascending the stairs to the second floor. The flick of the light on her face was immediately drawn away, not desiring to catch her ire, but also wanting to know exactly where she was. He flipped the light down and finished the last few steps. He fished out his cellphone and wrote on a piece of paper, tiny notebook he started to carry around with a golfing pencil. Short stubby thing. Basement written in all capital letters and shown to her before pushing himself into the corner so she could mosey on by and go after him if she chose. And that is where Abaddon was, the door left open and he was sitting Indian style in the dirt. Candles were lit in a circle while he wrote in a human-flesh bound book, the dried skin appeared like leather, stitched together with thread and magic. The voices in his head were becoming more and more paranoid, pieces of him up in revolt and not at all happy about how easily they (yes they) were giving themselves over to the seductive, addictive girl. He agreed Alice needed more trials, needed to prove she was really his still, but that didn't mean he was going to doubt any less that she was who she was. Something needed to be done, and he had a few ideas of what to do. <done>
Alice: Abaddon was really going to have to work on teaching her that trick about moving bits and pieces of this house around. Totally unfair that he was the only one that knew how to do it at this point and time. Just you wait, mister. The blinding flash of light across her eyes was met with a hand automatically rising to shield her precious peepers from it, but it was gone just before she could fully get her hand there. Franny didn't need the light to see the annoyance on her face at that, but when he shuffled out of her way and showed her his stubby handwriting with Don's location, she very sweetly chirped at, "Thank you, Franny-lanny-bing-bong." She even gave him a friendly pat on his broad shoulder, and then bounced down the rest of the steps. Worry crept back into her expression, with the raise of words she didn't want to say raising into the well of her throat. Alice chewed along her lip again, and had the copper taste of her own blood drifting over her taste buds by the time she was stepping down the basement stairs. The sheet was gathered in her hand to keep it from catching her toes on those dangerous steps, but Alice dropped it to the dirt floor when she reached the bottom. His name didn't drip from her alluring mouth this time, not when she could see him perfectly there in his criss cross sit. No, she only approached silently -- her steps like air, especially here when the moisture was thickest in the basement and she could pull at the air and use it to make herself so much lighter. It was at his circle that she went still, as she hadn't permission to enter -- a thing that quirked up her mouth just a smidge, thinking on the last time one of them had come upon the other in a fire lit circle. Tongue pushed at the cut at her lip again, with her lips delicately pressed together, and she waited. Not particularly wanting to interrupt, no matter how impatient that made her, and how she had to start rocking on her heels after only a few moments because standing still was not something Alice Clare was very good at. In fact, she was horrible at it. But at least she was quiet this time, while he wrote in his book and thought thoughts he shouldn't be having about his dangerous little love. But what did she know about all that? -d-
Abaddon: Probably little. Abaddon was extremely conscious of the way he presented himself to the world, and he was an extremely complex beast (even if he seemed simple sometimes). Even her, this girl he found and began to lose parts of himself to, he couldn't break the walls he built up over centuries. He knew where she was. Knew she called for him. Knew everything that happened inside those walls, everything recorded and remembered. By the time she was downstairs he had applied grin to his face carefully, fingers even spreading and sifting over his moustache to insure it was properly molded to accentuate his joy. The purest joy that lived on his demeanor like he never scraped his knee. Not even once. The candles that were lit in a circle were void of energy and power, beyond the basic heat that simmered off of him all the time. That heat was lifted and caught by the circle, but there was no protection. No readied energy to push her or fight against, and he even made his body go taut as he rocked himself and keep legs locked. He flopped a little on his side and stretched a long limb out, fingers curling at the edge of a candle and moving it to show her she could come through. "Come sit in my lap while I read." He wasn't too frightened about her reading the words on the page. It was written in the language of dream demons, and monsters of the human mind. He had one of those locked up against his soul, it was the only way he'd be able to make sense of the hieroglyphics written in blood. He moved the book from his lap partially when he rocked back onto his satin clad ass. Don had actually taken the time to put pants on, satin and black, and so soft against his skin. Naked was for spell-casting and wandering in the woods, but when he was relaxing... it was all satin, velvet, and silk. A strong thigh patted by his left hand before stretching same hand out to reach for her, and help her get into his lap. <done>
Alice: Alice just watched, waiting several fluttery heartbeats, while her belly revolted against her and clenched a little like it did when she was about to do something she really didn't want to do. Like whisper confessions in a damp dark magic riddled basement. Her mouth did that same quirk though, when he invited her into his circle, and Alice gathered up the loose material of the sheets from their bed until they were around her knees and stepped over the remaining candles around that part of the circle until she was safely passed the flames. "What are you reading?," because she was ever curious about literature, no matter the kind. Even in just the first glance, she didn't recognize the language on the page -- or if it even was a language at all. Sliding the softness of her touch into the hardness of his, Alice settled into his lap; snuggling down against him for the ultimate of comfortable positions, as if he were nothing more than a pile of pillows for her to lounge so easily against. But she was so glad he wasn't made of soft stuff. In fact, she'd have him no other way than this. Hard bodied, his muscles lean and well defined in his tall stature. A sigh fluttered out against the fragrant air of the esoteric room. Silken strands caught in his chest hair and in his beard when Alice shifted her shoulders a little to tilt her head back along the broad span of his shoulder, so she could study his face. "Do you remember last night? When I asked if you trusted me, and then I gave you a boner drug you don't need? I won't do that again," Alice frowned a little -- knowing the pair of them were a bit raw in places they needed be, despite having used those places again just a bit ago. "But I'm rather pleased that you trust me. I need that you know. Most don't. Ophelia doesn't, but she's every right to not. My grandfather, he doesn't. But I think I scare him most of all. Do I scare you?" She had a point, she knew she did. It was there. She just had to find it. Tongue dashed out against her lip again, and Alice's hand had found a place against his knee; the tip of her finger drawing shapes she wasn't paying attention to. But if he really paid attention to them, he'd feel her tracing the shape of the hieroglyphics on the page he had open in his leather-flesh book. -d-
Abaddon: The grin remained carved into the deep black of his beard, it was black in shadowed places like the basement, and green eyes perused after her. He did let his gaze linger around the unbundled bits of sheets that chased her, leaving its drag across dusted ground. Down she came, once softness fell to his strength, drawing his soulmate into the expanse of his lap. Legs loosened some in their twist, opening some to let her rump fill the gap of limbs. One arm immediately encircling her waist, fingers managing to find the slits in the silk, drawing through one layer and another, and resting along the bareness of her tummy. Fingertips scooted calloused tips across smooth skin while she spoke, book re-opened and placed in her lap. He took a hand to her forearm and drew her touch to the edge of the book, fingers placed on the corner of vellum. Tips of inky fingers drifted to her forearm while she began to speak, the warmth of his breath on nape of neck while words fell to her ear. "You scare me in a different way than you scare your grandfather I imagine. You scare me because of what I am willing to do for you. Give up for you. And let you do to me." There were power in words, all words. Truths and lies, but here he only gave truth, and he knew that was power in them. Such strong things. The implications behind the words, his motivations for sharing truths with her, the true intentions of his strength. Pointer and middle finger rolled down her forearm to the edge of her wrist. "Go on, turn the page. These are some rituals and spells that I've collected. It's soul magic, dream magic." The next page was actually something she may have understood, not the words and symbols, but the large illustration of a dream-catcher, but it was obviously the bits of webbing were made of feathers, skin, bone, and bits of meat. <done>
Alice: The warmth of his hand against the coolness of her smooth belly, once he found it beneath the folds of silk that made up the sheet that covered her, was a thing that settled the nerves there in a way that made her wonder about it. How could she be so .. comfortable with this man, in a way she wasn't with those she's known her entire life, with the one she came into this world with? Alice nuzzled her cheek softly against his chest, fingering at the edges of the pages where he placed her fingers. "He's afraid of what I'll do. He looks at me, with every passing moment, as if that next one will be the one where he has to kill me." There was no sadness as she spoke of it, it was just simply how it was. "I like your kind of scared much better," a grin pulled at her mouth now, and dutifully she turned the page when he urged. Blues drifted south, to the open spread of the book in her lap, and she studied the dream catcher on the page now, rather than his devilishly handsome face. Alice's touch skimmed over the drawing, tracing along the pattern the feathers and bones and skin and meat made to create the catcher part of it all. Her other hand did the same. Drew the same pattern, just on his silk clad thigh. "You should know who my grandfather is, Don. Where I come from." The pair of them, they only spoke of these things in bits and pieces and never just straight out. She watched the nail of her thumb trace down a bone resembling a small tibia, and then lifted her sights back to the bearded dragon who was her throne. "Centuries ago, when it was all the rage to burn a witch while she or he still lived, just because of the fear of something that is still so misunderstood today .. six families across the UK, before it was the UK, came together and formed a council to protect their loved ones, protect their kind. To protect those on this side of the Veil, and even those behind it. My grandfather's grandfather was part of the founding Elders." There was the smallest furrow between her brows, and Alice turned a little in the cradle of his arms and lap. "The title has been handed down, to my great grandfather. To my grandfather, for the last fifty years. My entire world has been wrapped up in it, for as long as I can remember. Between him, and Argosy -- just the council. Always the council, everything we do, as Donovan's is for the council. Because of the council. Affects the council. Which is why, until you, I've tried so hard to be .. normal." As normal as one who was made from magic could be, I suppose. "Hiding all the dark, until I broke from it. Scaring him." -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon had begun his little worms spinning silks across the world to tell him the tale of who Alice Clare was, but he had yet to actually read any of the information that had been sent. Instead he blindly wandered into the oceans to see what would come, neverminding that he may have to swim back at some point. Too much confidence in the waters that he swam. He listened intently, listening to her words while eyes read from the book. He would pause intermittently to process what he read and also take in tolerate directed towards her, malice and wrath. The prickles of his beard tickled at her back and palm slid down the smoothness of stomach to right below her breast where beating heart lay. The plush mound grazed by inked fingers, but not directly, only feeling the crease of milky skin. She spoke of councils. Spoke of Argosy. Spoke of a Veil, protection, magic, Elders, Grandfathers. It was all wrapped into the story she told, but by the end of it he still was focused primarily on the best way of setting up a meeting with the old man to see if he warranted a quick sentencing. Should she be there? Why not? It would only make sense for her to be there if he deserved to die. That was true. Tongue molested the inside of his lip while he turned the page again as he realized there was a bit of silence. Only the whispers in the dark, for the girl winded herself and was undoubtedly waiting for reflections from him. Tip of finger rose carefully to the only "clear" portion on these pages which was an arm extended out and lines drawn horizontally across, little dashes that covered the inside part of wrist to elbow. "... What things does this Council do? What type of things do they say? How do they protect?" The words muttered so smoothly which was strange because he hadn't even known that was what he was summoning with serpent's tongue. He didn't question what he said, or why he said, or how it had come to be when he had been thinking of the grandfather and his demise to come. He took the fated path with a kiss lightly dabbed on her shoulder. He reached a finger that traced the glyphs carefully, shifting along the bloodied page as he read. <done>
Alice: "They create the laws, they protect the witches, and the wizards and those who are tied to them here in the UK," she answered two of the three questions quietly; her head tilting in so that her forehead rested to his cheek when he bent to smear a kiss to her bare shoulder. "What do they say? Lots of things." She craned back, and her hand lifted from the book so that she could delve her fingers into his beard; mimicking the way his own fingers moved just below the weight of her softly plump breast. Such gossamer touches, that made Alice's skin tingle and her spine arch ever so against him. "Any are welcome to attend the meetings, and they speak on ways to .. keep balance between humankind and ours. Ways to secret ourselves among them, to blend and live. And more .. the Council will cover up the times when that secret is tested and revealed. There's so many under their protection, and not just the members of the families, and other beings. There's artifacts, and locations being watched. There's books. So many books." She had mentioned Argosy, hadn't she? "And they work to keep the Veil strong. So that it doesn't break, so that we're not hunted and slaughtered." Here's where Alice went quiet, because here is where she'd always been so confused about. A thing that was common nature among many of the creatures that the Council had among their kind. A thing that was made to be snuffed out, and so deeply frowned about. Though perhaps that was just Charles. "To keep us from hunting and slaughtering." A decent girl would have guilt in her eyes when she spoke of the things Abaddon had been teaching her. A decent girl might frown and blush as she brought to light what was immorally wrong between them. This wasn't a decent girl. In fact, her fingers tightened in his beard with just the mention of those two awfully delicious things, and her thumb skimmed up along his bottom lip, and then past it just a little to feel the warmth and wet that sat just beyond the outside of his mouth. "He wants to rid the world of the dark, and there's others who feel just the same." Ohh, but there were some too, who wanted to bask in that darkness. Balance be damned. -d-
Abaddon: Bemused grin remained his attention drawn to her when she began on the hunting and killing, which they had certainly done in the short span of time they had together. Greens perched on the beautiful face that he brought fingers up to, having abandoned its post near her tit. The tips of fingers sifted along chin and up the jaw. Thumb skidded itself beneath the jut of chin and spread fingers out along cheek. "You see though. You know. It's all fake. It's not real. It's nothing. Those who know only the light live in a darkness all themselves, a blindness. It is worse than the things we do, because they ignore the laws of nature. Defy what they are, and they are all monsters. Your grandfather even." He mumbled while they touched each other's faces in gentle molestation. That was not his only violation, of her soul too, when greens sank themselves in her blues and leaned forward to give tiniest kiss to her mouth. Gentle as the rake of knuckles when hand turned and fell off from the side of her face to return to the comfort inside sheets. Breast taken up and merely felt by a resting hand while he continued to speak. "...you believe.. this council will allow you to exist with me?" Said quietly while gaze took from her seas to set sail back upon the flesh of the page, the final bits analyzed, but he didn't turn the page. Instead flipped back to the beginning of the book with a couple swipes of his thumb. "... you can either hide from them, eat them, or make them be as you want them." At least those were the only results he had ever come upon. And sometimes a little bit of all three happened, most times. <done>
Alice: The thicket of her lashes narrowed together just slightly, thoughtfully as she absorbed the way he spoke of a different version of monsters. A far worse version of monsters. Alice's thumb pushed up, rubbing over his two front teeth to mess with his words, and then her brow lifted when he included her grandfather in that list. "I never thought of it that way." She paused, a frown deepening at her naturally down turned mouth. "Or maybe I did. It never felt right, the way they look at me. The way I've had to pretend, so that no one knew how wrong I am." The turn of phrase was not her own, but one she'd heard a hundred times in her grandfather's gravelly tone. Her hand moved away, to glide fingers down the length of his neck when his mouth found hers for that soft kiss that had her lips curving around it, and her cheek nuzzling into the touch of his fingers. His question was met with silence, Alice staring up at him, even when he turned his attention back to the book, and his thoughts voiced to what would have to be done in the long term. Alice's face scrunched just a bit, there in the nose and the mouth and the brows, and she moved about in his lap -- knocking the book from her own, until she was facing him and her long legs were all but tangled in the sheets around them in a weird attempt ( and fail ) to get them around his waist. "I believe they've no choice. I believe that now, with my eyes open, no one ``allows`` me to do anything, but myself. I also believe that they won't make it easy on it, but I welcome { on us, not it. weird } the difficulty they wish to bring our way." Small hands came up, one resting against the side of his face, and the other swimming it's way up into the dark of his hair, her gaze watching the travel path a moment before they went back to lock on his serpentine stare. "I'm not hiding from shit anymore. I had a choice, right there in front of me, weeks ago. And here I am." Too bad fate had a choice too, and had chosen our Alice for something she couldn't run away from no matter how far deep in the dark she went. Or could even talk about. -d-
one reaI bad man [5:24 A.M.]: She tried and failed, but he put his hand to the test while she spoke. He let his face dip in front of hers, snakes lurking in her lakes again. Grinning face close enough to feel her breath like air kisses against his mouth. "There are ways of hiding while not hiding, dear Alice. Sometimes only to get your foot in the door. There are things we can do, measures we can take." It was so peculiar the way fate worked. The steps he took, the things he did, the processes his mind took him. Those voices. So wary of her that drew him to a spell. A spell he had begun to consider for himself, but now saw opportunity in her. Opportunity for them. Not even thinking twice to consider whether she was worthy for the task or not, if she was his partner she could endure all. Do all. He had faith. "Sometimes choosing to do or behave a way you are asked, gives you power. Gives you the power to do as you please, in places you may not have been able to before. Think of it as a game, really. And be willing to take back of all that you give. And perhaps, we can play spy with you. You tell me the things. We hide you from them. And then together we plot and decide what to do with the your friends and council people. Just until we know that they won't bother with us anymore..? How do these schemes sound to you.. oh... Wait." He shifted the blankets aside to satin trousers which had been drawn down enough upon thigh, drawing tired thing down upon the exposed flesh. As they end with what they had started with. <done>