Post by JR on Nov 4, 2015 3:23:13 GMT -8
Characters: Abaddon Bell, Alice Clare Donovan, and introducing Jakob Crowne.
Summary: Don decides to help Alice deal with the sadness of her sisters death in a way that some might call unconventional. Alice is introduced to Jakob in a way she's sure not to forget anytime soon.
Triggers: Violence, language.
Summary: Don decides to help Alice deal with the sadness of her sisters death in a way that some might call unconventional. Alice is introduced to Jakob in a way she's sure not to forget anytime soon.
Triggers: Violence, language.
Abaddon: The evening had begun pleasant enough. Abaddon having prepared a meal of filet mignon, green beans, apple-sauce, and baked potato. A little bit of wine. Candlelit dinner and all, set up in a dining room that seemed to always be empty of furnishments, but now was set with mahogany table and chairs. How far into the meal they made it really depended upon on how early she decided to partake of the red-drink, and how often she went to it. Drug laced wine probably making her a little drowsy before sweeping her off to sleep. A few hours later she'd awaken to the absence of the dark wizard. The candles melted halfway through, clumps of wax accrued in piles, and food gone cold. The darkness of the home was battled against by the luminescent glow of moonlight that came in through open window. Single white papered note was left on the table directly before her, written in the flowery and loopy writing--eloquent penmanship a telltale sign of who penned the message. Dear Alice, It is my opinion that you may still be feeling quite blue about Ophelia. It has been in my experience that when one suffers from the mopes, there is only one infallible cure-all. I hope that you don't wake up too late, he already has a jump on you. I'm at the lake, get to me before he gets to you. He will hurt you if he catches you. P.S. No shadow jumping, and don't kill my cat. The message was probably a little confusing, especially when freshly coming from a drug-induced state of unconsciousness, she was hardly going to be sharp of mind. Was she keen enough to understand that danger in the growling gravel of vehicle pulling up in the long winding driveway. Or the sound of door opening and closing shut far outside the house. She certainly had slept down to the wire. <done>
Alice: My goodness. Look how sweet he is! A yummy meal by candles ( which was her favorite lighting source, by the way ), and even wine and a fancy dining table? Gods, she loved fancy dining tables. Whatever Alice had done to deserve all this, she'd never know. Because she was drugged. Straight up drugged for the billionth time by the man who matched her soul. Rude. So rude. There she was, left at the fancy dining table, too. What a waste of a party dress. It was a good one too; royal blue in color, the sort of color that made the oceans of her eyes seem more vibrant within their allure. A layer of see through lace in the quarter sleeves and over her chest and up to her collarbones, but beneath it with a sweetheart shape, the same color took over beneath the flimsy see-through lace, down to a spot a few inches above the knee-length hem. It fit her like a dream 'round the torso and molded over plump breasts like it'd been made for them, before belling out loosely from the natural point of her waist. She'd done something appealing to all that heavy hair too, pinning it haphazardly off her graceful neck into a loose chignon that left the rest side swept across one bold brow and curling prettily at her jaw on that same side. All dolled up, in fuck-me-pumps and everything -- and left at the dining table, drugged. Drugged! She awoke with her face nearly in her baked potato that had gone frigid with how long she'd been out. A soft whimpery sound escaped her as she sat up from her slump over top the table; delicate hand coming up to rub at her temple a little while the groggy feeling assailed her. Where the hell was she? Same place she last remembered, but alone. Not a sound in the house. Alice looked left, then right, and on a sweep back, she spied the note. Gathering the sheet in her hand, and recognizing instantly Abaddon's penmanship, a frown deepened at her lovely downturned mouth as she read. "Cat?," the word came out in a whisper, and she looked about again -- for the baby bobs, who were no where to be found. "His opinion can shove off," Alice muttered then, and set the note down where she'd found it, already pushing out of the chair; woozy when she stood up to fast -- and then she caught the sound of the cardoor. Cat's can't drive, right? Must be Don got sick of waiting for her at the lake. She checked first though, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she crossed to the window and pulled the black curtain to the side to peer out into the night at whoever might be out there. Confused, certainly. But scared? Not yet. -d-
Jakob Crown: In the rocky driveway there was a character she'd never laid eyes on before. The six-four physique of broad-shouldered lycan drifting with graceful steps with nose tipped to the air, crinkling nose in the air. Drifting movement in a window though made his job a thousand times easier. Tip of chin had hazel eyes stretching across the fifty yards or so from his spot in the driveway to the blonde target that seemed to peruse him with a bewildered expression. He bent down low and flicked fingers across boots in a quick motion. It was up to her to watch and see what he did, or pick another course of action, but she had a minute. Then again, maybe she was too curious to see who this fellow was, and what exactly he was up to. It certainly was a bit of an unfair advantage, she had only vague warnings whereas he had a clear directive. Boots were kicked and socks plucked along with them, the long-sleeve black turtle-neck the next thing peeled from a chiseled torso. Bronzed skin hard, sculpted like an Olympian statue from an ancient age. Shirt was folded carefully and set down beside shoes and socks, before those massive hands went to work at his belt. First, pistol was untucked from the back of jeans and set down top his folded shirt. Buckle unlatched, belt loosened and jeans came off next, along with boxers. The tandem of underwear and pants were folded together and returned, large cock heavy and soft as it lay in curls of black and along the girth of thigh. Head lolled on his shoulders briefly and his right arm stretched across his chest, bending far to the left as his other hand clamped against triceps and shoulder. Loosening the muscles and joints in a tedious ritual, providing the same motion to his other limbs. Again he lifted nose to the air, capturing faint traces of that sea-water girl, and then he grit his teeth hard. Entire frame lighting up while muscles convulsed and pressed tight against the sunkissed skin. What was copper turned red, veins in forehead and face throbbing while fingers curled into palms. It depended upon where she was if she'd hear or see the alterations that took place, gut-wrenching and vomit-inducing sounds of bone snapping and skin being torn asunder. Thick dark yellow, almost brown, hair rippling out from beneath the softness of human flesh. Disproportion growth occurring all through the body, as if an alien creature was climbing out of its human shell. Face continued to intensity and crumple, a maw pressing out of his face, as skin seemed to melt away and be replaced by fur. The tendrils of short cut dark brown lightening in hue some, almost auburn now, as it grew out in crested mane to give the abominable creation a majestic appearance. Blood oozed and dribbled from the skin that fell away in clumps, a startling roar expanded in intense screech into the night sky as the metamorphosis neared its cessation. <done>
Alice: "Oh. Oh .. oh is he stripping?" Keen interest sparked in the blue of those eyes, and well, Alice Clare leaned a hip to the wall along the frame of the window and settled in to watch. Can you blame her? Soaked up the sights laid out before her, though the sight of the gun did bristle the fine hair along the back of her neck. Firearms were illegal within the U.K. What would he need that for? There he was stretching, and she very much appreciated the show; tilting her head even with a little swipe of her tongue along the top of her mouth as she watched .. and watched him then start to change. A gasp flooded out of her, and within seconds the drugs in her brain seemed to have no affect on the realization that kicked in. If he catches you, he'll hurt you. Cat. The curtain swayed back into place before he'd even fully completed the change, before his bones were even through adjusting to it, before the fur even sprouted up to replace bronzed Adonis skin. "Son of a bloody wanker. Wanker!," the Lancashire girl moved quickly from the dining room and into the hall, where it was darker than the rest of the house. She had a clear straight view of the door here, and eyed it for barely a heartbeat -- before she took off for the kitchen. Heels clicking the flooring, but even they couldn't drown out the Latin she expelled from her lips in a quick incantation. The note said not to kill him -- but it said nothing about maiming a little. From the block on the counter, one of the smaller paring knives at random; whichever she reached first. The heels were ditched, and she was still casting as she ran back into the hall, and up the steps that lead to the second floor as quickly as she could. The spell? The moment he tried to enter the house, from either door or window, the kitty would be most throughly doused with a wall of ice-cold sea water. -d-
Jake: The alteration transformed a rather looking gentleman into a monstrous behemoth, an eight foot bestial creation of man and beast. King of the jungle made reincarnated as man, teeth like daggers white and sharp glistening beneath the limelight reflected from moon. He went from center of the drive-way to the door in a blur, smacking clawed hands across gravel, a rocket of yellowish brown fur smashing into the door, and then ejected back out. Fully doused in the surge of water that managed to stifle the first attempt and leave the feline soggy and enraged. Again lion's roar rose loud enough to make the children cry, even the Bobcats inside the house were probably finding places to hide at the scent and sound of the primal alpha just beyond the protection of the black house. Second attempt didn't catch him nearly as off-guard, bursting through whatever water fought at him. This time it was like using a super-soaker to keep a panzer tank from getting to where it wanted to be. The whole house nearly trembled with heavy footsteps that left claw marks everywhere it moved, another vicious snarl while hammering creature following the powerful aroma of the girl that recently passed through the empty foyer. Golden eyes that had diamond pupils of ebony snapping up ahead while body lurched in expedient chase up those steps, thunderous footballs easily giving away his proximity and how quickly the thing got closer. <done>
Alice: It wasn't much of a barrier, but it was enough to get Alice into the bedroom she and Abaddon shared. The door slammed shut on it's own accord; rattling within the doorjam with the ferocity of the fear that spiked within the magic. The closet door opened in the same way, without her touch and just before she came running through the open portal. To the lake, he'd said -- but damnit, she wanted appropriate footwear! She grabbed the first pair of non-heeled something or anothers she touched, shoving her feet and half her legs quickly into a pair of army green rain boots that went up to her knees -- the sort a girl might wear on a rainy day off hunting fucking foxes in the English countryside. The lycan wouldn't be held by the water long -- Alice knew that, deep down, and as she worked at hurriedly putting on those boots, she heard him roar. Felt the house shake with the force of his arrival. A scared mewl came from under the bed, and that alone was enough to piss our water-witch off. He scared one of her babies?! "Fucking wanker." Her heart was a drum cadence in her chest that seemed to go faster than the scramble of four paws against the stairs, but even so Alice moved so that she was in the middle of the room, in her pretty dress and rain boots, and all that ire etched across her expression and in the malicious set that narrowed fierce eyes. Fear be damned. Don was such an asshole. She braced; one foot in front of the other, heel up on the back foot like she might spring forward if she had half the chance -- but it was the knife in her hand she was after using; never taking blues off the closed door. She had the ability to open and close the damn thing without touching it, but turn it into a solid wall? Nope. "Don't worry, lil' bobby .. mama won't let you get hurt, just stay the fuck under the bed," she whispered, taking in a deep breath and holding it. Because the moment that door open, or was burst from the wall, whatever happened? She was whipping the knife at what came through, like she'd been practicing in the back yard, and using whatever distraction that might cause ( please let it cause something ) and escape. Through the window. That she leapt the fuck right out of, like a badass -- a badass that totally opened the window with a flick of a wrist, and called on the earth to rise up to meet her, but all she got was water instead. At least it'd cushion the fall some, yeah? Probably not. If she even gets out of the window, that is. -d-
Jake: Cause something. Well, it did. The door buckled and exploded open, the empty portal filled with the magnificent feline that still had bits of human skin and blood hanging off its muscled construction. Blade was thrown at caught it in the chest area, right where heart thundered, piercing meat and caused another room-quaking roar to blast off from jaws of the monster. Blood leaked and skin split and out the window she went, a window that she fit in through well enough in her escape. The blade served more as a temporary nuisance, torn from his chest and dropped to the ground and he pursued through the same opening, but he didn't fit quite as well. Glass showering down on her, at least some of it more than likely, and worse than that a pouncing werelion. The agile and massive thing actually quite graceful when it came down like a meteorite into the earth. Impact was loud and dull, all four clawed appendages catching the ground while thick rope of tail swayed in dusting fashion across the ground. The water she used to cushion her fall may have given her a step of a lead, but no more. And he only paused after the initial landing, curling body in on itself before launching again into an all out leap from a sitting point. Rippling muscles going tense as the mammoth sized feline came hurtling again at the water-witch. Golden feline eyes fixated on the narrow hips of the blonde thing so that the next time he leapt for her he could hooked hands, tear through material of both garment and body. Skin and dress alike peeled through (assuming his pounce struck true) and hooking curled black claws into bone in his attempt to drag her to the ground. <done>
Alice: The water wasn't enough to cushion, but it did slow the trajectory that she fell. She hit the ground still, taking the brunt of it with a shoulder and the side of her head against dirt and grass; a sharp cry flying from the witch that wasted no time in scrambling up. Glass exploded behind her, showering her with little pin pricks of pain along the flimsy material that covered her back; the smaller slivers biting into her skin through the lace. She shouldn't have looked back. Why the fuck did you look back, Alice? Because there he was, already leaping at her. Long legs were far outmatched by that leap, and he caught her; Alice shrieking when his claws ripped at her dress, and through her thigh, tearing open her skin and fertilizing the grass with blood. Down they went, pain violent and overwhelming, but it didn't stop her from kicking out, from struggling beneath him, shrieking again -- though the sounds might fall on deaf ears. They were surrounded by nothing but woods, and there in the middle of autumn, what sort of creatures might remain? A fucking Brama, that's what. Hank shot out of his pit like lightning; pulling more from his place by the scent of the blood that came from his witch, than the screaming. The furry creature with his rows of razor sharp teeth attacked, flying out of left field at the lion, aiming for his throat thorugh the thickness of light-dark mane; snarling and making almost little shrieking sounds of his own in the frenzy to protect Alice. Who took whatever opportunity was given, and tried to make her escape. If she was successful, she up and running as best as she could with one fucking good leg and making for the direction of the lake, heading for the line of the trees. And from behind her, a mist rose up from the earth and out of the air; thick and opaque and shadowing; covering the gold of her hair and the blue of her dress, and the red of her blood from view, blanketing around the witch like a cool fog. If she didn't get free? Well, she's probs lion food. -d-
Jake: He drug her down hard at first, and mouth was about to take a chunk of her thigh. Handicap the movement, then work on subduing the prey. But, there was an unlikely hero, interference ran by black little fuzzball that bee-lined for the jugular and little teeth shredded the fur-laced skin immediately. The next roar that expelled was again made of frustration and those massive paws unclenched from the girl, allowing her to scamper free while the lion rolled across the ground and sank claws deep into the little beastie. The Brama squealed in dismay when it was clenched like a grapefruit, blood-red eyes nearly popped from its body as it was crushed and whipped like a Nolan Ryan fastball. The water-elemental creature smashed against the side of the Blackhouse and falling limp to the ground, sorely brutalized and left to heave while it slowly regenerated. It wouldn't die, but it didn't have the energy or physical ability to get up and chase. Hank neutralized completely as it lay in its crumpled ball making raspy noises. The fog thickened and the roaring monster echoed off the trees, carrying his sound far into the wild forest. Jakob was left blooded on his throat, the wound in his chest nearly healed completely (due to lack of silver) and again he broke into a hard sprint. Shot like a notched arrow he was disappearing into the fog after her. The tactic wasn't a bad one, the fog provided cover. It hid her scent too, a little. But there was still too much sensory out there, he could pick up the sounds reverberating off the trees. Whiffs of her caught that directed him, even a subtle vibration in the very earth when he paused long enough. Acute senses honing in, snarls closing in while he trusted the instincts that led him towards her despite not being able to see a foot beyond his maw. <done>
Alice: Her leg was bleeding, and badly. Not only had his claws done the damage, but her struggle. The pain was enough that she could barely breathe; air caught like a knife in her chest as she did her best to just keep moving -- not even pausing when she heard the cry of her creature, but ohhh did she vow harm. Big time harm. That fucking dragon was going to get it. She heard the lion when he came into the woods, when he entered into the thickness of the fog that circled and swirled and carried her scent this way and that like it should. At one point, while he raced through the woods and followed after her, he went right past Alice Clare. Remember that trick she'd pulled in a game of hide and seek? Using the reflective element of the water she trusted so well to create a mirror that hid her from sight. Panic was beginning to well up, and she was certain she couldn't feel her toes in the pool of blood that was collecting in her boot from the mangled mess that was her thigh. She pressed to a tree, hidden in plain sight -- and once she heard him far enough away, she forced herself to go on, to keep going for the lake that she could already smell, that she could already feel. The thick of the fog seemed to gain depth the longer the lion was in it, taking on a smothering proportion, and the angrier Alice grew, the more panicked she began to feel, the fog was attacking him. Lashing out. Trying to get in his mouth and his eyes. Growing blacker, with the forests shadows entering into the silvery-grey. Still she trudged along, best she could; practically dragging that leg that was very quickly deciding it wasn't going to move. The blood loss was enough though, that her magic would weaken. She couldn't keep up two fronts -- one was going to have to come down, and that was the reflection -- leaving Alice Clare no longer hidden by anything but the fog that was thicker around the lion than the girl. "I'm getting this bloody tattoo removed," she spoke, to herself, beneath her breath and through the clench of teeth that the agony of her wounds brought on. Thank god for adrenaline. -d-
Jake: Jakob was plagued by her magic and found it to be an incredible nuisance, the twisting of the fog that carried her scent having him in circles, circling her, without realizing it for nearly two laps. Animalistic snarling and gnashing bellowed heavily in the night's air before an earth-shaking tremor flexed out. The beast's feral energy was erratic and wild, bursting with life as the creature's movements seemed to not slow, but quicken. The longer it went in the chase, the more desperate and fanatical it became. When her magic dwindled and reflections were lost though everything was changed, and he caught sent of that blood that leaked so freely. Trail of it caught on the ground and he made a sharp turn. Eerily quiet it beame, soundless padding of feet moving him in rapid succession in a bee-line across the direction she went. Bits of the red that dribbled staining grass, some on a tree, and she was moving with her own surge of adrenaline, even though it was a far cry from what the lycan was capable of. Not only was he the more physical specimen in human form, but the athleticism, endurance, speed, and strength in this shape... was far unbalanced. She had her tricks and magic though. Through the tree-line and nearly a hundred yards off the coast of lake was coming up, but before another step could be taken the.. mist that followed the lionman came closer. Out from the fog he came hurtling, again that gigantic body seeming to devour distance in leaps and bounds. Another pounce looking to have that thing coming right for her, so close though, would she be dragged down again? Maybe for the last time? Or did she have one more trick to make it to lake's bank. <done>
Alice: What if it was? What if was the last time? What if he killed her? Was that part of what he was sent to do? It would only be natural for him. A predatory animal like that, who'd already drawn her blood. The death blow was just the next step -- especially after she'd evaded it thus far. It wouldn't take much more. She was already hurt. Already dragging her foot, unable to really run away. Fragile, her body human despite it's powers of magic and shadow. He could crush her throat with one snap of his jaws. Rip her chest open with one swipe of his claws, and it would be the end of Alice Clare. But he wasn't the only one who could hear the disturbance on the forest floor -- and this was a forest she knew forwards and backwards. Abaddon might be the first to see what came next. The way the lake began to thrash and create waves that it shouldn't have in the stillness of the night. Alice forced herself to move faster, already crying out with every step and unable to stop it now -- fuck being quiet, he knew where she was. He was coming faster, and faster, and when he was close enough to see her so clearly, that's when she turned -- and water rose from the lake, with only one hundred yards to travel, and on lightning speed. Just as the lion came on her, the witch fell to the ground, trying to duck out of the leap that was meant for her, and a heavy wall of water violently broke through the trees; tearing off branches from the big ones, snapping the smaller trunks in two. If Alice made it out of his leap, she crouched to the ground, curling her arms over her head and making a lil' Alice Clare ball as the water crashed over the both of them. It battered and slammed like a tidal wave, knocking the willowy blonde into the support of a dead trunk that had long ago fallen, and she'd stepped over a hundred times before this. She curled against it now though, the water rushing too fast, and too strong over her head; into her mouth, tearing parts of her shredded skirt away and all the pins in her hair, and even one of her boots. Pretty face scraped with the trunk of the tree she was against, and the rocks and branches and other debris that the water carried -- until it didn't. Until the whole thing just stopped, and there was nothing more than a giant fucking puddle only about a foot deep -- the rush of the water just stopping where it flowed and falling to the ground to lay mostly still, just disturbed by the objects it surrounded. Sputtering, Alice braced herself for the leap of a lion; huddling into herself again, and trying to make herself a small little sopping wet drowned ball. -d-
Jake, special guest Frank, Abaddon: Again struck by water, but this one brought from the lake. Loud roars again beckoned from the beast as he found his footing and turned towards Alice from his prowling position. "That's enough, kid." Came the Golem's voice, a thing Alice hadn't heard since the time he threatened to rape her no doubt. The bald-headed and dead-eyed gray-man coming from the direction of the lake. He wore a black coat to match the black eye-patch in bargain he made tongue for eye. "The man upstairs called it." The upper lip of lion's face rose up and snarled again, narrowing those vivid gold eyes and narrow slits of pupils on the girl, and then the golem. Clump of earth smashed and swatted before rising up to its feet, towering height and puffing wet chest out. It shook its head violently, water flinging everywhere from that royal mane, soggy fur drying a little. It snarled again and chomped its bloodied mouth at Alice again. "Yeah, I know. Let's go big guy. I'll walk you to your car. Get up, Alice. He's waiting for you." He spoke in that same droning voice, deadpanned and smirking before he took determined steps towards the werelion that already was prowling back the way it came, ignoring the injured Alice. Abaddon had never come face to face with Jakob, and never intended on doing so, or at least not anytime soon. Currently he wore the cloaking magic about his frame, hiding aura, scent, and sight from the lycan, but clearly deposited on that fallen tree that they had met on several occasions. He wore reptilian red, scaled crimson suit with an undershirt of white beneath the alligator leather of suitcoat and trousers. Brown hair done up in usual style, allowed to hang heavy over handsome carving of face as he watched the water still swirl from the spout she had created. Waiting for Alice to come join him at water's edge, having made the game-breaking decision that.. bringing the lake to her constituted a victory. <done>
Alice: Not an attack, persay -- but the familiar voice assaulted her and had Alice sucking in a hitched breath. Her head flew up, and confused gaze sought out Frank, and found him just there, stepping through the water and coming towards them. Speaking. Speaking. Speaking?! Her jaw clenched, and she unfurled from the way she held herself so tightly together; sending spasms of pain through her leg when she did so. The lion snarled, snapped, and her head whipped his way and she snarled back among the fly of wet dark blonde that fell about her shoulder. "Make sure my Brama isn't dead, Franny," she bit out quietly and hated every moment that the Golem still stood there, smirking. Hated every moment that she wanted to get up and make him take her up into his arms and hold her tight. Stupid bloody Golem. She waited, until they were several steps away before she attempted to move again; using her hands to hoist herself up onto the log; crying out as she did so. Trembling fingers probed at the torn skin and exposed muscle of the mauled flesh of her thigh. It'd begun to bleed again, seeping quickly despite the water that had washed most of it away. Abaddon could wait for all Alice cared right now, but she did slowly make her way to her feet, and even more slowly, make her way through the water that was already receding it's way back into the lake and the spout that still whirled. She followed that water, each step excruciating. How she was even walking, honestly, was beyond me. Sheer determination of a feminine rage, I can only guess. When she broke through the trees and to the shore of the lake, there he was. The wizards siren was a mess; dripping wet, splattered with dirt, bleeding and torn apart. She had scratches on her face, on her arms. A rip across the front lace of her dress across her chest. And fury bright and malicious in her burning blue eyes. "Was that satisfying enough for you? What's next? Killer bees over lunch? Will you drop a snake in my morning bath?" -d-
Abaddon: He heard the things she said without ever giving her an eye, staring off at the ripples in the water. She moved a little closer, but still far off, and he tilted his chin. Capturing sight of the wounded girl that limped on over. The first emotion was guilt, and he grinned. The second was pity, and he grinned. The third was mirth, so he laughed. A crisp bark and he stood with hands clapping together and then clasping, giving her the victory gesture by shaking clasped hands up near his right cheek and then his left. "Congratulations, Alice, you made it. I don't know if you intentionally brought the lake to you to win the race, or if it was luck, but you certainly did well." He hiked a limb up and stepped atop the fallen tree that he had been sitting on, drawing him to new intense heights briefly. And then he stepped down with a hop, hands releasing clasp to hang out and keep his balance. Tiptoed steps drawing him towards her much quicker than she was able to move towards him, arms opening wide and that brilliant amusement flashing all the teeth of her red dragon with green eyes. "You look absolutely beautiful Alice, look at you. Mangled and torn. Is your heart racing? Blood pumping? How was it? Was it fun?" Tongue lurked out from those parting teeth and when he got close enough those arms came swarming around her, but he didn't gather her up. Didn't clench too deep, instead he bent down, the taller wizard falling into a crouch directly before her. Touching tips of fingers down the part of her limb that looked severely damaged, ravaged meat split and bleeding. Mouth applying itself to the brutal wound, smearing till it hurt, tongue tasting the grievous damage. Shadow was threaded up, a similar weave to the water-bandage applied in blackness. <done>
Alice: He moved, and Alice stopped. Watching him through eyes gone to nearly pinpoints with the extreme pain that vibrated in her form. Vision followed every move he made -- to stand on the tree, to step off it, to land on the bank of the lake where their magic cumulated so many times before. He came towards her, too quickly, and she had to tip her head back to keep her stare on his devilishly handsome face. Alice was a rigid thing that he touched, that he wrapped loosely into his arms. Congratulating her, was he? Praising her, was he? Laughing. Always laughing. Grinning. Always grinning. He sank down, and she tilted her head to watch. Lashes only closing when he closed his mouth over the worst part of one of those mauled scratches, over torn flesh and exposed muscle and severed tendon. He hurt her, and Alice cried out, ever so softly; bracing just one hand on the broad of his shoulder. Why just one? Because as his tongue traveled along her thigh, the other was skimming through the dark of his hair. And when he began to use the shadows to wrap the wounds, that hand slipped free of it's task. Lashes fluttered opened, and delicate touch was so soft as it smoothed fingertips down his cheek. And that same sweet, caring hand? Cracked hard against his face with a vicious slap, and Alice let loose a bellow of rage as she half stepped back. "Don't you ever do that to me again! I am not a doll to be stitched together like your Golem! I am made of flesh and bone. I am your woman," the words seethed through her teeth; anger making her a fearless thing that leaned down into the face of the most dangerous thing she'd ever met. -d-
Abaddon: The madman's face cracked to the side with the blow and he tilted it back only halfway, blazing eyes rising to the girl's face as she teetered back and away from him. Skin felt warm and had a pinkish hue in the shape of small hand, and the dragon came to climb to her stature. And beyond. The lift and loom of shoulders coming to bring him much taller than the lithesome blonde, injured and soft. And words that came in sing-song tones were offered. "You are my soulmate. And I would rather you be dead, than sad." Right hand rose up to clamp itself over her chin, the beautiful face curled in the dragon's talon and grit of teeth came to hover over her face in that wide toothy grin. He smeared the scratchy spaghetti beard into her own chin and then she felt one of those plump mounds caught in another grip. What was left of that dress, damp and pressed to her skin, was peeled off, stripped like the skin that fell from the lycan. And this forced bosom to be bared, powerful embrace of hand smashing palm against the hard press of nipple as he groped her. And what better way to take away sadness than to let them feel alive. Adrenaline rush and the fear of death and maiming was just like getting fucked, only different. Crushed tit was clenched hard, thumb and pink pinching the edge of nipple and grinding that squishy texture of fleshy between rough touch. Thumb scratching its nailed edge along ridges of the flesh he treasured, and even bent his face away from hers briefly to give the tantalized flesh a flick of wicked tongue. <done>
Alice: Good. Good! She slapped the shit out of him, his face should crack to the side. Alice trembled a little as she stood her ground; staring down at him with contempt flashing too bright in her glare. But he rose then. To her height, higher. She had to raise her chin to keep her stare on him, a chin he captured a moment later. A cry cut from her lips, and Alice squirmed to try and back out of the way he held her so tightly by her face. The hold smooshed her cheeks and lips just a little, but she ground out speech around it. "What good is a soul mate, if you've killed her? What use am I to you dead?" A gasp escaped, at how easy her dress tore away -- but she should have known that. She was already cold, so the bite of the air against her skin did little but lift goose bumps long her skin. He chased that cold away though, with the searing burn of his fingers when he grasped at the plump of pale gold breast, and had Alice squirming again. Such stubborn resolve in that face, though. Was she going to fight it still? This destiny of hers, with his face right in hers. With his mouth smearing it's tongue along the sensitive peak of taut flesh? Power was shifting inside her, hot and cold, his and hers, and Alice moaned from the feel of his tongue, and the bearded face that surrounded it. She had to get her fingers in it, and did. Spreading thin digits through the thicket of facial hair and then along his jaw and down his throat. "I would never join Ophelia," she whimpered softly. "I'm meant to walk beside you until time stands still. Stop trying to kill me." The fingers in his beard fisted then, tightly around the scruff, and she tugged; while the second hand finally came to play the game and gripped it's way into his hair to jerk his head back. But she surged into him then, whichever way was necessary -- up down, to the fucking side -- and crushed her mouth to his in the same fury that fueled all she'd done since a man had become a lion in their drive. -d-
Abaddon: She pulled at him. Tugged on him. Jerked at the hair on face and head, causing him grief and pain. But she took what she wanted, and he couldn't scold her for that. Lips fell into each other in passionate embrace, tongue seeking out hers to swirl and rumble. Gimped limb grabbed, but protected from the pressure of his grip by the shadows that absorbed the contact of his hand. Still, she'd feel some pain when she was forced to move, thighs forced to spread and hand falling from her chin to stuff themselves into her. Shadows lifting up all around them, curtains that fell backwards, rolling up unfurled and twisting around them in a sphere. The gargantuan waves coming together all around them, pressing them in an icy chill that he fought against with that constant aura of skin that burned hotter than most. "Shut up, and fuck me." He cooed against her mouth and then the blackness crashed around them both, turning physical bones into the immaterial. Riding the black from the edge of the lake and being spilled out across their bedroom, her wounded frame again being forced to experience more movement than it should have and lighting her body up in pain. A pain that subsided almost immediately as he emerged from the shadowtravel with clothes peeled from his frame. The ache of torn up limb lost in the wake of pleasure he dripped into her with weaved spell, endorphins forced to strangle out the agony. Taking her for a ride, or three, tangled in silk sheets. <done>
Alice: My goodness. Look how sweet he is! A yummy meal by candles ( which was her favorite lighting source, by the way ), and even wine and a fancy dining table? Gods, she loved fancy dining tables. Whatever Alice had done to deserve all this, she'd never know. Because she was drugged. Straight up drugged for the billionth time by the man who matched her soul. Rude. So rude. There she was, left at the fancy dining table, too. What a waste of a party dress. It was a good one too; royal blue in color, the sort of color that made the oceans of her eyes seem more vibrant within their allure. A layer of see through lace in the quarter sleeves and over her chest and up to her collarbones, but beneath it with a sweetheart shape, the same color took over beneath the flimsy see-through lace, down to a spot a few inches above the knee-length hem. It fit her like a dream 'round the torso and molded over plump breasts like it'd been made for them, before belling out loosely from the natural point of her waist. She'd done something appealing to all that heavy hair too, pinning it haphazardly off her graceful neck into a loose chignon that left the rest side swept across one bold brow and curling prettily at her jaw on that same side. All dolled up, in fuck-me-pumps and everything -- and left at the dining table, drugged. Drugged! She awoke with her face nearly in her baked potato that had gone frigid with how long she'd been out. A soft whimpery sound escaped her as she sat up from her slump over top the table; delicate hand coming up to rub at her temple a little while the groggy feeling assailed her. Where the hell was she? Same place she last remembered, but alone. Not a sound in the house. Alice looked left, then right, and on a sweep back, she spied the note. Gathering the sheet in her hand, and recognizing instantly Abaddon's penmanship, a frown deepened at her lovely downturned mouth as she read. "Cat?," the word came out in a whisper, and she looked about again -- for the baby bobs, who were no where to be found. "His opinion can shove off," Alice muttered then, and set the note down where she'd found it, already pushing out of the chair; woozy when she stood up to fast -- and then she caught the sound of the cardoor. Cat's can't drive, right? Must be Don got sick of waiting for her at the lake. She checked first though, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she crossed to the window and pulled the black curtain to the side to peer out into the night at whoever might be out there. Confused, certainly. But scared? Not yet. -d-
Jakob Crown: In the rocky driveway there was a character she'd never laid eyes on before. The six-four physique of broad-shouldered lycan drifting with graceful steps with nose tipped to the air, crinkling nose in the air. Drifting movement in a window though made his job a thousand times easier. Tip of chin had hazel eyes stretching across the fifty yards or so from his spot in the driveway to the blonde target that seemed to peruse him with a bewildered expression. He bent down low and flicked fingers across boots in a quick motion. It was up to her to watch and see what he did, or pick another course of action, but she had a minute. Then again, maybe she was too curious to see who this fellow was, and what exactly he was up to. It certainly was a bit of an unfair advantage, she had only vague warnings whereas he had a clear directive. Boots were kicked and socks plucked along with them, the long-sleeve black turtle-neck the next thing peeled from a chiseled torso. Bronzed skin hard, sculpted like an Olympian statue from an ancient age. Shirt was folded carefully and set down beside shoes and socks, before those massive hands went to work at his belt. First, pistol was untucked from the back of jeans and set down top his folded shirt. Buckle unlatched, belt loosened and jeans came off next, along with boxers. The tandem of underwear and pants were folded together and returned, large cock heavy and soft as it lay in curls of black and along the girth of thigh. Head lolled on his shoulders briefly and his right arm stretched across his chest, bending far to the left as his other hand clamped against triceps and shoulder. Loosening the muscles and joints in a tedious ritual, providing the same motion to his other limbs. Again he lifted nose to the air, capturing faint traces of that sea-water girl, and then he grit his teeth hard. Entire frame lighting up while muscles convulsed and pressed tight against the sunkissed skin. What was copper turned red, veins in forehead and face throbbing while fingers curled into palms. It depended upon where she was if she'd hear or see the alterations that took place, gut-wrenching and vomit-inducing sounds of bone snapping and skin being torn asunder. Thick dark yellow, almost brown, hair rippling out from beneath the softness of human flesh. Disproportion growth occurring all through the body, as if an alien creature was climbing out of its human shell. Face continued to intensity and crumple, a maw pressing out of his face, as skin seemed to melt away and be replaced by fur. The tendrils of short cut dark brown lightening in hue some, almost auburn now, as it grew out in crested mane to give the abominable creation a majestic appearance. Blood oozed and dribbled from the skin that fell away in clumps, a startling roar expanded in intense screech into the night sky as the metamorphosis neared its cessation. <done>
Alice: "Oh. Oh .. oh is he stripping?" Keen interest sparked in the blue of those eyes, and well, Alice Clare leaned a hip to the wall along the frame of the window and settled in to watch. Can you blame her? Soaked up the sights laid out before her, though the sight of the gun did bristle the fine hair along the back of her neck. Firearms were illegal within the U.K. What would he need that for? There he was stretching, and she very much appreciated the show; tilting her head even with a little swipe of her tongue along the top of her mouth as she watched .. and watched him then start to change. A gasp flooded out of her, and within seconds the drugs in her brain seemed to have no affect on the realization that kicked in. If he catches you, he'll hurt you. Cat. The curtain swayed back into place before he'd even fully completed the change, before his bones were even through adjusting to it, before the fur even sprouted up to replace bronzed Adonis skin. "Son of a bloody wanker. Wanker!," the Lancashire girl moved quickly from the dining room and into the hall, where it was darker than the rest of the house. She had a clear straight view of the door here, and eyed it for barely a heartbeat -- before she took off for the kitchen. Heels clicking the flooring, but even they couldn't drown out the Latin she expelled from her lips in a quick incantation. The note said not to kill him -- but it said nothing about maiming a little. From the block on the counter, one of the smaller paring knives at random; whichever she reached first. The heels were ditched, and she was still casting as she ran back into the hall, and up the steps that lead to the second floor as quickly as she could. The spell? The moment he tried to enter the house, from either door or window, the kitty would be most throughly doused with a wall of ice-cold sea water. -d-
Jake: The alteration transformed a rather looking gentleman into a monstrous behemoth, an eight foot bestial creation of man and beast. King of the jungle made reincarnated as man, teeth like daggers white and sharp glistening beneath the limelight reflected from moon. He went from center of the drive-way to the door in a blur, smacking clawed hands across gravel, a rocket of yellowish brown fur smashing into the door, and then ejected back out. Fully doused in the surge of water that managed to stifle the first attempt and leave the feline soggy and enraged. Again lion's roar rose loud enough to make the children cry, even the Bobcats inside the house were probably finding places to hide at the scent and sound of the primal alpha just beyond the protection of the black house. Second attempt didn't catch him nearly as off-guard, bursting through whatever water fought at him. This time it was like using a super-soaker to keep a panzer tank from getting to where it wanted to be. The whole house nearly trembled with heavy footsteps that left claw marks everywhere it moved, another vicious snarl while hammering creature following the powerful aroma of the girl that recently passed through the empty foyer. Golden eyes that had diamond pupils of ebony snapping up ahead while body lurched in expedient chase up those steps, thunderous footballs easily giving away his proximity and how quickly the thing got closer. <done>
Alice: It wasn't much of a barrier, but it was enough to get Alice into the bedroom she and Abaddon shared. The door slammed shut on it's own accord; rattling within the doorjam with the ferocity of the fear that spiked within the magic. The closet door opened in the same way, without her touch and just before she came running through the open portal. To the lake, he'd said -- but damnit, she wanted appropriate footwear! She grabbed the first pair of non-heeled something or anothers she touched, shoving her feet and half her legs quickly into a pair of army green rain boots that went up to her knees -- the sort a girl might wear on a rainy day off hunting fucking foxes in the English countryside. The lycan wouldn't be held by the water long -- Alice knew that, deep down, and as she worked at hurriedly putting on those boots, she heard him roar. Felt the house shake with the force of his arrival. A scared mewl came from under the bed, and that alone was enough to piss our water-witch off. He scared one of her babies?! "Fucking wanker." Her heart was a drum cadence in her chest that seemed to go faster than the scramble of four paws against the stairs, but even so Alice moved so that she was in the middle of the room, in her pretty dress and rain boots, and all that ire etched across her expression and in the malicious set that narrowed fierce eyes. Fear be damned. Don was such an asshole. She braced; one foot in front of the other, heel up on the back foot like she might spring forward if she had half the chance -- but it was the knife in her hand she was after using; never taking blues off the closed door. She had the ability to open and close the damn thing without touching it, but turn it into a solid wall? Nope. "Don't worry, lil' bobby .. mama won't let you get hurt, just stay the fuck under the bed," she whispered, taking in a deep breath and holding it. Because the moment that door open, or was burst from the wall, whatever happened? She was whipping the knife at what came through, like she'd been practicing in the back yard, and using whatever distraction that might cause ( please let it cause something ) and escape. Through the window. That she leapt the fuck right out of, like a badass -- a badass that totally opened the window with a flick of a wrist, and called on the earth to rise up to meet her, but all she got was water instead. At least it'd cushion the fall some, yeah? Probably not. If she even gets out of the window, that is. -d-
Jake: Cause something. Well, it did. The door buckled and exploded open, the empty portal filled with the magnificent feline that still had bits of human skin and blood hanging off its muscled construction. Blade was thrown at caught it in the chest area, right where heart thundered, piercing meat and caused another room-quaking roar to blast off from jaws of the monster. Blood leaked and skin split and out the window she went, a window that she fit in through well enough in her escape. The blade served more as a temporary nuisance, torn from his chest and dropped to the ground and he pursued through the same opening, but he didn't fit quite as well. Glass showering down on her, at least some of it more than likely, and worse than that a pouncing werelion. The agile and massive thing actually quite graceful when it came down like a meteorite into the earth. Impact was loud and dull, all four clawed appendages catching the ground while thick rope of tail swayed in dusting fashion across the ground. The water she used to cushion her fall may have given her a step of a lead, but no more. And he only paused after the initial landing, curling body in on itself before launching again into an all out leap from a sitting point. Rippling muscles going tense as the mammoth sized feline came hurtling again at the water-witch. Golden feline eyes fixated on the narrow hips of the blonde thing so that the next time he leapt for her he could hooked hands, tear through material of both garment and body. Skin and dress alike peeled through (assuming his pounce struck true) and hooking curled black claws into bone in his attempt to drag her to the ground. <done>
Alice: The water wasn't enough to cushion, but it did slow the trajectory that she fell. She hit the ground still, taking the brunt of it with a shoulder and the side of her head against dirt and grass; a sharp cry flying from the witch that wasted no time in scrambling up. Glass exploded behind her, showering her with little pin pricks of pain along the flimsy material that covered her back; the smaller slivers biting into her skin through the lace. She shouldn't have looked back. Why the fuck did you look back, Alice? Because there he was, already leaping at her. Long legs were far outmatched by that leap, and he caught her; Alice shrieking when his claws ripped at her dress, and through her thigh, tearing open her skin and fertilizing the grass with blood. Down they went, pain violent and overwhelming, but it didn't stop her from kicking out, from struggling beneath him, shrieking again -- though the sounds might fall on deaf ears. They were surrounded by nothing but woods, and there in the middle of autumn, what sort of creatures might remain? A fucking Brama, that's what. Hank shot out of his pit like lightning; pulling more from his place by the scent of the blood that came from his witch, than the screaming. The furry creature with his rows of razor sharp teeth attacked, flying out of left field at the lion, aiming for his throat thorugh the thickness of light-dark mane; snarling and making almost little shrieking sounds of his own in the frenzy to protect Alice. Who took whatever opportunity was given, and tried to make her escape. If she was successful, she up and running as best as she could with one fucking good leg and making for the direction of the lake, heading for the line of the trees. And from behind her, a mist rose up from the earth and out of the air; thick and opaque and shadowing; covering the gold of her hair and the blue of her dress, and the red of her blood from view, blanketing around the witch like a cool fog. If she didn't get free? Well, she's probs lion food. -d-
Jake: He drug her down hard at first, and mouth was about to take a chunk of her thigh. Handicap the movement, then work on subduing the prey. But, there was an unlikely hero, interference ran by black little fuzzball that bee-lined for the jugular and little teeth shredded the fur-laced skin immediately. The next roar that expelled was again made of frustration and those massive paws unclenched from the girl, allowing her to scamper free while the lion rolled across the ground and sank claws deep into the little beastie. The Brama squealed in dismay when it was clenched like a grapefruit, blood-red eyes nearly popped from its body as it was crushed and whipped like a Nolan Ryan fastball. The water-elemental creature smashed against the side of the Blackhouse and falling limp to the ground, sorely brutalized and left to heave while it slowly regenerated. It wouldn't die, but it didn't have the energy or physical ability to get up and chase. Hank neutralized completely as it lay in its crumpled ball making raspy noises. The fog thickened and the roaring monster echoed off the trees, carrying his sound far into the wild forest. Jakob was left blooded on his throat, the wound in his chest nearly healed completely (due to lack of silver) and again he broke into a hard sprint. Shot like a notched arrow he was disappearing into the fog after her. The tactic wasn't a bad one, the fog provided cover. It hid her scent too, a little. But there was still too much sensory out there, he could pick up the sounds reverberating off the trees. Whiffs of her caught that directed him, even a subtle vibration in the very earth when he paused long enough. Acute senses honing in, snarls closing in while he trusted the instincts that led him towards her despite not being able to see a foot beyond his maw. <done>
Alice: Her leg was bleeding, and badly. Not only had his claws done the damage, but her struggle. The pain was enough that she could barely breathe; air caught like a knife in her chest as she did her best to just keep moving -- not even pausing when she heard the cry of her creature, but ohhh did she vow harm. Big time harm. That fucking dragon was going to get it. She heard the lion when he came into the woods, when he entered into the thickness of the fog that circled and swirled and carried her scent this way and that like it should. At one point, while he raced through the woods and followed after her, he went right past Alice Clare. Remember that trick she'd pulled in a game of hide and seek? Using the reflective element of the water she trusted so well to create a mirror that hid her from sight. Panic was beginning to well up, and she was certain she couldn't feel her toes in the pool of blood that was collecting in her boot from the mangled mess that was her thigh. She pressed to a tree, hidden in plain sight -- and once she heard him far enough away, she forced herself to go on, to keep going for the lake that she could already smell, that she could already feel. The thick of the fog seemed to gain depth the longer the lion was in it, taking on a smothering proportion, and the angrier Alice grew, the more panicked she began to feel, the fog was attacking him. Lashing out. Trying to get in his mouth and his eyes. Growing blacker, with the forests shadows entering into the silvery-grey. Still she trudged along, best she could; practically dragging that leg that was very quickly deciding it wasn't going to move. The blood loss was enough though, that her magic would weaken. She couldn't keep up two fronts -- one was going to have to come down, and that was the reflection -- leaving Alice Clare no longer hidden by anything but the fog that was thicker around the lion than the girl. "I'm getting this bloody tattoo removed," she spoke, to herself, beneath her breath and through the clench of teeth that the agony of her wounds brought on. Thank god for adrenaline. -d-
Jake: Jakob was plagued by her magic and found it to be an incredible nuisance, the twisting of the fog that carried her scent having him in circles, circling her, without realizing it for nearly two laps. Animalistic snarling and gnashing bellowed heavily in the night's air before an earth-shaking tremor flexed out. The beast's feral energy was erratic and wild, bursting with life as the creature's movements seemed to not slow, but quicken. The longer it went in the chase, the more desperate and fanatical it became. When her magic dwindled and reflections were lost though everything was changed, and he caught sent of that blood that leaked so freely. Trail of it caught on the ground and he made a sharp turn. Eerily quiet it beame, soundless padding of feet moving him in rapid succession in a bee-line across the direction she went. Bits of the red that dribbled staining grass, some on a tree, and she was moving with her own surge of adrenaline, even though it was a far cry from what the lycan was capable of. Not only was he the more physical specimen in human form, but the athleticism, endurance, speed, and strength in this shape... was far unbalanced. She had her tricks and magic though. Through the tree-line and nearly a hundred yards off the coast of lake was coming up, but before another step could be taken the.. mist that followed the lionman came closer. Out from the fog he came hurtling, again that gigantic body seeming to devour distance in leaps and bounds. Another pounce looking to have that thing coming right for her, so close though, would she be dragged down again? Maybe for the last time? Or did she have one more trick to make it to lake's bank. <done>
Alice: What if it was? What if was the last time? What if he killed her? Was that part of what he was sent to do? It would only be natural for him. A predatory animal like that, who'd already drawn her blood. The death blow was just the next step -- especially after she'd evaded it thus far. It wouldn't take much more. She was already hurt. Already dragging her foot, unable to really run away. Fragile, her body human despite it's powers of magic and shadow. He could crush her throat with one snap of his jaws. Rip her chest open with one swipe of his claws, and it would be the end of Alice Clare. But he wasn't the only one who could hear the disturbance on the forest floor -- and this was a forest she knew forwards and backwards. Abaddon might be the first to see what came next. The way the lake began to thrash and create waves that it shouldn't have in the stillness of the night. Alice forced herself to move faster, already crying out with every step and unable to stop it now -- fuck being quiet, he knew where she was. He was coming faster, and faster, and when he was close enough to see her so clearly, that's when she turned -- and water rose from the lake, with only one hundred yards to travel, and on lightning speed. Just as the lion came on her, the witch fell to the ground, trying to duck out of the leap that was meant for her, and a heavy wall of water violently broke through the trees; tearing off branches from the big ones, snapping the smaller trunks in two. If Alice made it out of his leap, she crouched to the ground, curling her arms over her head and making a lil' Alice Clare ball as the water crashed over the both of them. It battered and slammed like a tidal wave, knocking the willowy blonde into the support of a dead trunk that had long ago fallen, and she'd stepped over a hundred times before this. She curled against it now though, the water rushing too fast, and too strong over her head; into her mouth, tearing parts of her shredded skirt away and all the pins in her hair, and even one of her boots. Pretty face scraped with the trunk of the tree she was against, and the rocks and branches and other debris that the water carried -- until it didn't. Until the whole thing just stopped, and there was nothing more than a giant fucking puddle only about a foot deep -- the rush of the water just stopping where it flowed and falling to the ground to lay mostly still, just disturbed by the objects it surrounded. Sputtering, Alice braced herself for the leap of a lion; huddling into herself again, and trying to make herself a small little sopping wet drowned ball. -d-
Jake, special guest Frank, Abaddon: Again struck by water, but this one brought from the lake. Loud roars again beckoned from the beast as he found his footing and turned towards Alice from his prowling position. "That's enough, kid." Came the Golem's voice, a thing Alice hadn't heard since the time he threatened to rape her no doubt. The bald-headed and dead-eyed gray-man coming from the direction of the lake. He wore a black coat to match the black eye-patch in bargain he made tongue for eye. "The man upstairs called it." The upper lip of lion's face rose up and snarled again, narrowing those vivid gold eyes and narrow slits of pupils on the girl, and then the golem. Clump of earth smashed and swatted before rising up to its feet, towering height and puffing wet chest out. It shook its head violently, water flinging everywhere from that royal mane, soggy fur drying a little. It snarled again and chomped its bloodied mouth at Alice again. "Yeah, I know. Let's go big guy. I'll walk you to your car. Get up, Alice. He's waiting for you." He spoke in that same droning voice, deadpanned and smirking before he took determined steps towards the werelion that already was prowling back the way it came, ignoring the injured Alice. Abaddon had never come face to face with Jakob, and never intended on doing so, or at least not anytime soon. Currently he wore the cloaking magic about his frame, hiding aura, scent, and sight from the lycan, but clearly deposited on that fallen tree that they had met on several occasions. He wore reptilian red, scaled crimson suit with an undershirt of white beneath the alligator leather of suitcoat and trousers. Brown hair done up in usual style, allowed to hang heavy over handsome carving of face as he watched the water still swirl from the spout she had created. Waiting for Alice to come join him at water's edge, having made the game-breaking decision that.. bringing the lake to her constituted a victory. <done>
Alice: Not an attack, persay -- but the familiar voice assaulted her and had Alice sucking in a hitched breath. Her head flew up, and confused gaze sought out Frank, and found him just there, stepping through the water and coming towards them. Speaking. Speaking. Speaking?! Her jaw clenched, and she unfurled from the way she held herself so tightly together; sending spasms of pain through her leg when she did so. The lion snarled, snapped, and her head whipped his way and she snarled back among the fly of wet dark blonde that fell about her shoulder. "Make sure my Brama isn't dead, Franny," she bit out quietly and hated every moment that the Golem still stood there, smirking. Hated every moment that she wanted to get up and make him take her up into his arms and hold her tight. Stupid bloody Golem. She waited, until they were several steps away before she attempted to move again; using her hands to hoist herself up onto the log; crying out as she did so. Trembling fingers probed at the torn skin and exposed muscle of the mauled flesh of her thigh. It'd begun to bleed again, seeping quickly despite the water that had washed most of it away. Abaddon could wait for all Alice cared right now, but she did slowly make her way to her feet, and even more slowly, make her way through the water that was already receding it's way back into the lake and the spout that still whirled. She followed that water, each step excruciating. How she was even walking, honestly, was beyond me. Sheer determination of a feminine rage, I can only guess. When she broke through the trees and to the shore of the lake, there he was. The wizards siren was a mess; dripping wet, splattered with dirt, bleeding and torn apart. She had scratches on her face, on her arms. A rip across the front lace of her dress across her chest. And fury bright and malicious in her burning blue eyes. "Was that satisfying enough for you? What's next? Killer bees over lunch? Will you drop a snake in my morning bath?" -d-
Abaddon: He heard the things she said without ever giving her an eye, staring off at the ripples in the water. She moved a little closer, but still far off, and he tilted his chin. Capturing sight of the wounded girl that limped on over. The first emotion was guilt, and he grinned. The second was pity, and he grinned. The third was mirth, so he laughed. A crisp bark and he stood with hands clapping together and then clasping, giving her the victory gesture by shaking clasped hands up near his right cheek and then his left. "Congratulations, Alice, you made it. I don't know if you intentionally brought the lake to you to win the race, or if it was luck, but you certainly did well." He hiked a limb up and stepped atop the fallen tree that he had been sitting on, drawing him to new intense heights briefly. And then he stepped down with a hop, hands releasing clasp to hang out and keep his balance. Tiptoed steps drawing him towards her much quicker than she was able to move towards him, arms opening wide and that brilliant amusement flashing all the teeth of her red dragon with green eyes. "You look absolutely beautiful Alice, look at you. Mangled and torn. Is your heart racing? Blood pumping? How was it? Was it fun?" Tongue lurked out from those parting teeth and when he got close enough those arms came swarming around her, but he didn't gather her up. Didn't clench too deep, instead he bent down, the taller wizard falling into a crouch directly before her. Touching tips of fingers down the part of her limb that looked severely damaged, ravaged meat split and bleeding. Mouth applying itself to the brutal wound, smearing till it hurt, tongue tasting the grievous damage. Shadow was threaded up, a similar weave to the water-bandage applied in blackness. <done>
Alice: He moved, and Alice stopped. Watching him through eyes gone to nearly pinpoints with the extreme pain that vibrated in her form. Vision followed every move he made -- to stand on the tree, to step off it, to land on the bank of the lake where their magic cumulated so many times before. He came towards her, too quickly, and she had to tip her head back to keep her stare on his devilishly handsome face. Alice was a rigid thing that he touched, that he wrapped loosely into his arms. Congratulating her, was he? Praising her, was he? Laughing. Always laughing. Grinning. Always grinning. He sank down, and she tilted her head to watch. Lashes only closing when he closed his mouth over the worst part of one of those mauled scratches, over torn flesh and exposed muscle and severed tendon. He hurt her, and Alice cried out, ever so softly; bracing just one hand on the broad of his shoulder. Why just one? Because as his tongue traveled along her thigh, the other was skimming through the dark of his hair. And when he began to use the shadows to wrap the wounds, that hand slipped free of it's task. Lashes fluttered opened, and delicate touch was so soft as it smoothed fingertips down his cheek. And that same sweet, caring hand? Cracked hard against his face with a vicious slap, and Alice let loose a bellow of rage as she half stepped back. "Don't you ever do that to me again! I am not a doll to be stitched together like your Golem! I am made of flesh and bone. I am your woman," the words seethed through her teeth; anger making her a fearless thing that leaned down into the face of the most dangerous thing she'd ever met. -d-
Abaddon: The madman's face cracked to the side with the blow and he tilted it back only halfway, blazing eyes rising to the girl's face as she teetered back and away from him. Skin felt warm and had a pinkish hue in the shape of small hand, and the dragon came to climb to her stature. And beyond. The lift and loom of shoulders coming to bring him much taller than the lithesome blonde, injured and soft. And words that came in sing-song tones were offered. "You are my soulmate. And I would rather you be dead, than sad." Right hand rose up to clamp itself over her chin, the beautiful face curled in the dragon's talon and grit of teeth came to hover over her face in that wide toothy grin. He smeared the scratchy spaghetti beard into her own chin and then she felt one of those plump mounds caught in another grip. What was left of that dress, damp and pressed to her skin, was peeled off, stripped like the skin that fell from the lycan. And this forced bosom to be bared, powerful embrace of hand smashing palm against the hard press of nipple as he groped her. And what better way to take away sadness than to let them feel alive. Adrenaline rush and the fear of death and maiming was just like getting fucked, only different. Crushed tit was clenched hard, thumb and pink pinching the edge of nipple and grinding that squishy texture of fleshy between rough touch. Thumb scratching its nailed edge along ridges of the flesh he treasured, and even bent his face away from hers briefly to give the tantalized flesh a flick of wicked tongue. <done>
Alice: Good. Good! She slapped the shit out of him, his face should crack to the side. Alice trembled a little as she stood her ground; staring down at him with contempt flashing too bright in her glare. But he rose then. To her height, higher. She had to raise her chin to keep her stare on him, a chin he captured a moment later. A cry cut from her lips, and Alice squirmed to try and back out of the way he held her so tightly by her face. The hold smooshed her cheeks and lips just a little, but she ground out speech around it. "What good is a soul mate, if you've killed her? What use am I to you dead?" A gasp escaped, at how easy her dress tore away -- but she should have known that. She was already cold, so the bite of the air against her skin did little but lift goose bumps long her skin. He chased that cold away though, with the searing burn of his fingers when he grasped at the plump of pale gold breast, and had Alice squirming again. Such stubborn resolve in that face, though. Was she going to fight it still? This destiny of hers, with his face right in hers. With his mouth smearing it's tongue along the sensitive peak of taut flesh? Power was shifting inside her, hot and cold, his and hers, and Alice moaned from the feel of his tongue, and the bearded face that surrounded it. She had to get her fingers in it, and did. Spreading thin digits through the thicket of facial hair and then along his jaw and down his throat. "I would never join Ophelia," she whimpered softly. "I'm meant to walk beside you until time stands still. Stop trying to kill me." The fingers in his beard fisted then, tightly around the scruff, and she tugged; while the second hand finally came to play the game and gripped it's way into his hair to jerk his head back. But she surged into him then, whichever way was necessary -- up down, to the fucking side -- and crushed her mouth to his in the same fury that fueled all she'd done since a man had become a lion in their drive. -d-
Abaddon: She pulled at him. Tugged on him. Jerked at the hair on face and head, causing him grief and pain. But she took what she wanted, and he couldn't scold her for that. Lips fell into each other in passionate embrace, tongue seeking out hers to swirl and rumble. Gimped limb grabbed, but protected from the pressure of his grip by the shadows that absorbed the contact of his hand. Still, she'd feel some pain when she was forced to move, thighs forced to spread and hand falling from her chin to stuff themselves into her. Shadows lifting up all around them, curtains that fell backwards, rolling up unfurled and twisting around them in a sphere. The gargantuan waves coming together all around them, pressing them in an icy chill that he fought against with that constant aura of skin that burned hotter than most. "Shut up, and fuck me." He cooed against her mouth and then the blackness crashed around them both, turning physical bones into the immaterial. Riding the black from the edge of the lake and being spilled out across their bedroom, her wounded frame again being forced to experience more movement than it should have and lighting her body up in pain. A pain that subsided almost immediately as he emerged from the shadowtravel with clothes peeled from his frame. The ache of torn up limb lost in the wake of pleasure he dripped into her with weaved spell, endorphins forced to strangle out the agony. Taking her for a ride, or three, tangled in silk sheets. <done>