Icon of Coil: ahroun. return. [sian]

August 31, 2002

ahroun. return. [sian]

[wyrmpit]

there has been silence since the infant dancer left (though he still reeks of the warmth that lay waiting between her thighs), the aching (satiated) Galliard having fallen into the short respite of sleep

but it didn't last
it never lasts

aggravation the alarm that clamors through (cracked) mind
restless
[craving]
frustrated
and the thermos surpassed in favor of stretch, stalking through the tunnels towards the main room and the kitchen contained therein

[click.
click...]

She returns.

BOOM.

--the door slam open with anoise loud enough to rattle the small sundies Kaj' had set on the coffee table. [..like a chainsaw--] Slanting void stained gaze moving about the room as if it were perhaps a living creature of its owbn, some unbititous black jelly that oozed around furniture and speakers, floor and cushion. One step than another brings her inside the arm un-limbed [..a mauthafuckin chainsaw--] tossed to the floor her tell-tale teethmarks marring pale female wrist.

She burps -explosion.- her hand wipinfg at full lips to leave a smear of red as she shrugs off the long black coat of her dinner that houses silent superiority of well-toned arms and viscious movement.

She crouches in the living room her form settling apon itself like a coiled spring. [..and if my day keeps going this way I might--] No one home?

the sudden earthquake (explosion) rippling through the floor (his senses) pulls a (deviant) smile to the young Dancer's lips, navigation his temptation, the tantalizing crave of what he scents so. fucking. near. drawing without stop through the tunnels until the very barriers of the living room are breached

the animal crouched (coiled) waiting devastation

[.......how I have missed you]

a hand (shaking) settles against the wall (supporting weight his legs may not) to guide passage of lean shoulder to its perch
again.... it does not last, a magnet pulling his steps to circumvent the limb and fall and fold before the statuesque granite so long (so far) gone

"Hello... Sian...."

purred (croaked) in low (aching) roil from (dry) throat

[..break your fuckin face tonight.]

Head snap about fury-leashed thought he might almost feel the sharp heat of death's fangs slide oover his (..seeerpentine perfection of devil's innndulgence. linger.) Only to loose sweet-hunter-smile as head tosses to the side limb tossed at his feet even as the familiar churning noise of teeth grinding filters between them. [..am I forgiven?] Some pre-human communication, the secret language of the halves that could-should-would be one.

Give.
Me.
Something.
to
BREAK.

Should the brain turn against the body?
What should happen then?

mismatched (agonized) gaze swims in slanted obsidian pools (those moments before the swing of justice's mighty sword) then teeth (fangs) bear in strange smile, unfolding an arm to smear palm (chilled and fevered) against the curve of crimson lips and bronzed cheek

returning his scent to her skin
offering his wrist for sacrifice
daring the creature smoldering just below a goddesses' skin
[......yes.]

sweatsoaked hair clinging to brow as head cants

"I'm glad you have returned to us....."

so many ways
so many layers in the Galliard's words
(ahroun......returns)

Bicep bulges against smoothed skin as she reaches forward to close vice-like fingers about his collar (...you dare?) and pulls his form into her own. With the ease of breath or shrug, his body is lifted and pulled until his brow touches her own.

...and slides down the bone os his cheek and jaw in some feral greeting, the glycerine-salt-sweat of her scent staining him even as he does the same. A low purrr-rumble emanating from deep within her. (...detonation comes so close to life threatening.) the fear-mixed adrenaline of her presence seeming multiplied than ever before as if she were a hair-trigger away from total annihilation of (anything-everything..) around her..

[...you are well--this is good. Pack well?]

Mouthed words.

how easily he bends to her will (indulges her cravings) eyes closing with soft (pained, grateful) sigh when the volcano beneath her skin scalds chilled (sweating) brow

arms winding (pythons coiling to strangle) around her to gather steel against him, oil-slick scents of fear-pain-adrenaline-craving-violence-lust weaving around them as if the depths of the Spiral (family. returns) surround them

though his head shakes (and his body trembles against her strength) whispering

"The Spiral's Heart beats strong..... but I am not as well as you think..... though for it I will be stronger. Gur'thek has returned to the Father..... but his absence filled with prospects of Ayydis and Kyrsha'wai'gas."

She pulls to a stand dragging him up along with her as both brows raise at his admission (...Gur'thek has returned to the father but his--) is cut off as his admission of weakness. His form slamnmed againsted the wall knocking breath from lungs, as her whined whispers pour out--grip clenching with ill-disguised concern.

[What. Wrong.]

a puppet to which she holds the strings
groaning cry (yyyyyyeeeessss) escaping lips to wash her skin with the sudden pain, chest heaving to recapture breath in exodus
did she not notice the glaze in those eyes.....
though still his grip keeps her near
swallow catching in his throat
[....never show weakness]
silken voice still only that (twisted) whisper

"The Father feels it a time to test me, Sian...... my strengths against my desires........ I'm withdrawing."

Teeth sink harmlessly (painful) against his jawline dragging across his skin before it-she-all releases allowing him to slide (..crumple paper breath now.) down a short nod. [ It is good.] And the small table that lives the hall towards her room quivers.

SMASH.

Its leg caving against extended blow of muscled leg, her aem reaching down to lift wounded wooden carcass and toss-throw-hurl it at her doorway where cadaver shatters leaving only broken limbs.

She turns back to him.
[Come Sleep?]
..all her language in a glance.

his body melts (shatters) beneath the audience of her teeth, smile smoothing tension so breifly away - not even a flinch when wooden splinters dance across the floor, a strange elation rising from the pits of tortured soul

her silence deafening
a lecture in a look

coy smile daring to explore the pale landscape of his face, he drags up (crumpled) from the floor to join her

To sleep perchance to dream.

Night mares of heaven. Let us dream of hell instead, her firey limbs close about him the brimstone heat of his wicked thoughts giving solace a world of stagnating grey. [...let it all burn down.]In the middle of the night he shakes, sweat ozzing from his pores as she pulls packmate tighter-closer crushing the poison-sweet-ambrosia from his body.

devils to some are angels to others, his pains forgotten in the vise-grip agony of her scalding embrace (burning it all away in the fires of her passionate destruction), heretic lost in the depths of the (his) bloody angel (Ahroun)

packmate
sister
lover
salvation

Posted by asher at August 31, 2002 12:00 AM

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