July 11, 2002alien symphony [sian]
Atlantic City Boardwalk...
Her back is to the street and her eyes meet Asher's briefly before lascivious tongue flicks down to absorb red viate and she turns wiping the excess on her sleeve in ...silent.. motion.
he watches that tongue, it's course, its discourse across crimson skin, pouting that it wasn't shared, mismatched eyes snapping up to look across Sian's shoulders as a shadow moves..... deeper..... further away..... he knows they were watched, he knows there was a car, murmuring softly
"There's a loose end."
knowing how Kaj hates them, caught between the decision to follow the steps away lain by their Alpha, or to try and track this new toy into the alleyway maze
Both eyes raise in answer as she continues to wipes at her mouth, the motion seeming as if it would pull the skin with the stain. [Where?] She doesn't know what to look for--and so her gaze flickers back to Asher.
his chin lifts, nodding towards the alley, the door left open as whatever it is escapes, inhaling deeply the air cleared of brethren blood, looking for what else it may hold..... throat vibrating as a highpitched chitter spills over Sian's ears, arm circling her shoulder to turn her towards the correct entrance to the maze and begin strolling, idly, across the street, as if back towards the casinos
A hand slip in a backpocket, his casual girlfriend, sucking at her lips [...if i skin him will Kaj' remark at the mess?] And she moves behind him--as usual taking the rear.
within the alley he crouches (not if he doesn't see it) where the shadow seemed to move from - where it ligered the longest - fingers light against the grime, inhaling deeply once again, light brown hair shifting as head tilts, mismatched eyes searching the darkness....
"The scents of decaying trash, and sodden ash, the fat cat cast offs slung for the poor to scrabble...... but do you smell it?"
he stretches, as lungs expand with heady scents, faint, disappearing
"The rotting life.... the rotting blood.... the stagnancy..... smells the walking dead, to me."
light and dark snaps skywards to Sian's face
"What do you think...."
we'll know how to find them another day
Her nostril flare as fingers slide against asphalt and under her nose tod trail down and into her mouth. [Decay.] And she nods corded legs pulling to a stand as she looks to him [packmate.] the corner of her lips tugging up at his canny, if verbose assessment.
Her hands slip back to [..if i could-] her neck almost unconsciously.
[-scream.]
pink tongue arches across the slight smile, again, at her nod, they will have much to tell Kaj before the night is through, he will ask of the car, and continue from there, twisting (unhinging) to look back at the unconscious movement, hands reaching, softly, smooth backs of curled fingers drawing over cheekbone's swell
"Do you wish, now, for something to satisfy?"
he sees the bloodlust still crawling beneath her skin, and will search the city to bring a suitable toy for her games, to quench that thirst..... it nothing else..... to make her smile
[You.]
Thick black hair hangs about her shoulders pouring down her back, heavy and rushing like a river--impossibly halted from its course between the middle of her back and oblivion. Her teeth unclench as his silvered word slide along her ears to ease the gnaw.. [Aching for Amythyst. Violet swept violence.] Her lips pulling back against his touch instinctively and quiet just as predictably.
[I.]
--and nods. Slanting eyes flickering over him as toungue slides along harm [so much more.]-less teeth, she follows.
[Trust.]
his own smile widens, the (sick) affection between them, fingers drawing through black avalanche of hair across the landscape of her shoulders before the disengagement of their touch, leading them back towards the street, to pick the calf from the herds of transient visitors to the glittering casinos, murmuring
"What is it you wish to have..... tell me so I may bring the gilded platter before the queen."
knowing her so well, a sideways glance, a movement, the way a sleeve adjusts along her wrist - would be worth more than a thousand sonnets emblazoned with a poet's dying passion to describe the heart's desire
Slanting gaze flickers to men tonight, not suprisingly ones that match Malcolms size and coloring. [Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens bright copper-] She had certain tastes, she liked good voices, women often had beautiful screams, but tonight she hungered for something heavier, bassier...
[There.]
Lips part to mouth soundless word. A man, garbed in a trenchcoat lingers at the mouth of an alley. Inhuman grey eyes peered out [Had she found Malcolm--no his nose was a little off and his brow sloped a bit too far] And both brows lifted as she faced Asher now.
and a part of it is knowing what it is she looks for, what it is she wants, what angers her, what drives the seeth beneath exotic complexion
"Gooooood."
the mystery of the whispered croon, gleaming gaze watching the man (Malcom, what I'd like to do with you) and a gift awakened, practiced til wrenched into his own formation of waking dreams, lips twitching to move, a voice lingering, echoing just above the man's shoulder, spry tongue weaving a spider's web against his ear....... and the man begins moving away, following a sudden whim, heading towards a van in a nearby parking lot, leaning in to croon near her ear
"Fire walk with me....."
leading Sian to the lot, and the van, and the man with a whim, time to hitch a ride and blow this joint
People don't like her.
She hangs back an ..almost [but not quite] beautiful face among many such imperfect gemstones. Mistake her reluctance which draws you nearer, for shyness WORSE incompetance. They make their way to the van and she is just behind asher, sleekly muscled arms shoved in her pockets as the quiet girl seems to fade-pulse-fade into the background.
The pair held a certain attraction about them, magnetic. [Ever dance with the devil, no? Youwill.] It rippled in the air, with a certain potency that caused heartbeats to quicken and brows to perspire. Is it getting hot in here. The van is boarded, the door is slid shut, and the games..
they begin.
quick as lightning he climbs through the back doors, through the open bed, past the obstacle seat, hauling the surprised man back into the seat beneath strong grip, a glance to assure the doors securely close under Sian's careful attention
"Drive."
the command short, smooth, punctuated by the spear point of the blade beneath trembling chin, and he guides them, with a word here or there, until they are on a highway leading south out of town, mismatched eyes studying this creature, this choice, imagining all the horrors his friend (sister.lover.packmate) will inflict, smelling her anticipation thickening with each mile that rolls beneath wheels...... until the engine chokes to silence and darkness on a deserted backwoods road, the body drug into the back, held, crouched, waiting just within the doors
"Yes?"
the trumpeter sergeant about to release the rabbit for the hounds, he waits only for her signal then kicks open the doors and shoves the man towards the treeline
There is a lingering look cast to Asher as he hold the man. [..does it burn? It -always- burns me.] She inhales his scent as the man is bundled out of the van, a slow smile stretching across her face as hands begin to drip and ripple...
A small green droplet eats its way through the shag carpeting through metal and into the earth itself [.....baptise me in blood and GREEN flame.] clawed hands appear and those boots dent the lip of of the van as she bursts out giving chase.
Sweetest of hunters.[ there's nothing so sweet as a scream.] It echoes through the forest sending a roost of black winged birds into hurried flight. Man-scream is lower, deeper it is a rape of the soul wrapped in colors of violation...
She's taking her time with it.
he watches her prepare, her change (beeeuuuutifullllll) for the carnage, the quick explosion of bloody hunger from the vehicle..... nimble fingers lift the keys, and lock up the van, tight and secure, then the boymanbeast follows the map of scented fear, gutteral growls and wet screams (such an alien symphony, such an etherial grace to the sounds sawing over nerves) plucking a shred of clothing from a branch, the trenchcoat gathered from where it was flung as a blind.... there is no hurry to his steps, it is her time, her gift.... the strange smile growing to hear the sounds of something terrible stalking the trees tonight
Symphony.
[..exactly.]
It reaches a fever pitch, where stacatto gasps for breath puncuate tearful exclamation of terror. And finally begins to choke off [Pianissimo..gently..gently.] and dies in a whispered rush of ripping flesh.
the rise of screams like a wailing (violent) violin, blood splattering on the ground a percussion nightmare, wheezing breaths, faltering, the woodwinds as they crawl, slowly, 'til the finite finis (finesse) of silence, save their breathing, light and dark eyes hazed from the swell of sound that washes in wave after wave across his form, stinging nerves to stand at rigid attention...... her gift to him, in the fatal song...... shoulder resting against a tree to watch the visage of her crouched over what was left of the body
He finds her like an eastern goddess [..bathing in blood. He WAS unworthy.] long legs lazily sliding over skinless flesh and gore, faceless now, the man's head twisted at an impossible angle.
Sian's lithe back is to him now, utterly homid as she wreaks her destruction, and turns with a low manly rasp. Face is covered by a mask, a skin of his own its bloody ends staining her hair as she blows through the fleshly tubes of his voice.
A withered scream.
[....can you hear the breath of laughter beneath?]
Thank you.
as she turns, steps carry him over the spreading red tide soaking into the trampled grass, fingers reaching to caress over sinew trails, twisting them into the black ocean of her hair, lips curling in fond smile at the mangled voice (whispering laughter) that reaches his ears
"You are beautiful when you are pleased."
so very welcome, the urge, for now (but how long?), fullfilled, a quiet pride rising in himself to make his packmate content, in once again proving his loyalty to her by making sure her needs are never empty nor lost
She blows on the chords and they fall from her lips as he speaks. And she rises from the gore, steel tendons lifting her weight easily from the congeal puddle of blood and flesh. Faux-Malcolm's lips part to emit silenced tongue...
--sliding over his lips as she presses against him communicating her devotion to him as well. But she doesn't stop, continuing forward and past him--the massacre left for scavengers. She was sated, and now receeded to her usual icy withdrawl.
Posted by asher at July 11, 2002 12:00 AM
the smile widens as she rises (pheonix from the flame, life from death, pleasure from so much agonized pain), chin lifting as her tongue traces his lips, his own swiping out to claim a taste of the gore, fingers sliding up slick sides, heightening the feel of her slight curves against his chest in that devoted moment...... a quick check of the body when the space between them widens again, believably attacked by an animal, scavenged by others, the carrion birds returning now that their fear has disappated, raven's cackling grating in the darkness...... no open doors, no loose ends, Kaj will be pleased...... following the scents of her flesh, blood, and satisfaction back to the van
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