September 25, 2002
final reward [bianca]

[atlantic city boardwalk]


the cotton candy long forgotten, the Galliard stretches (hanged man after the Tybury jig) on the bench, self-crucified as arms embrace the benchback (whatever happened to Mary) tankboots propped on the bannister railing

listening to the waves
the music of the spears
crashing far below

strange gaze (strange days) hidden behind closed lids

She's walked the boardwalk nightly, again and again (...hoping...) throughout the last weeks (months, years), even after that little redhead passed on the message. Certain (one of us is anyway, you stupid idoit. You'll never be pack, you'll never be waht she is to him. Couldn't you smellhim on her? please. He has no use for you.') that he has forgotten her, though she still waits, and will until she is told otherwise ('or dead.'). And tonight is no different. She walks, hands shoved deep into pockets of denim that clings to skinny hips, head lowered slightly, stringy hair falling forward... but even so, she watches.. she always watches.. perhaps there is something that will bring her into his good graces once more.

graces?
such an idle, finicky, ever changing thing, isn't it... one's good graces
look at what happened to the last that he thought to grace

mismatched eyes open as if suddenly the power began charging (volts beginning circuit runs throughout his lean form) muscle electified to low hum hovering just beneath his skin, nerves crackling (anticipating) the gooseflesh breifly rising (storm on the horizon) in response to the dramatic array of the trains derailing thought through his (cracked) mind

frustration seething
disappointment burning
failure scarring

a frown (glare) now gracing the black sea (legion) spread before him

She chews her lower lip briefly, before pausing before a vender, and after a brief contemplation of sticky cotten candy treat, she buys a bag of peanuts instead, hands occupied with shelling salty treat as she resumes her walk, she almost doesn't see him...
but for the fact that he has occupied her thoughts from the moment she met him. She pauses, and eyes (snakeeyes) drag over self-cruicified form, drinking him in through gaze alone as if to accertain if he is truely allright before approaching.. only when eyes haev had their fill (and ears beg to hear his voice) does she step forward again.. almost creeping, near silent, so as not to disturb.
no matter how much she wants too.

the creature posed as the savior (the monster becoming the saint) breathing deeply, evenly, filling his lungs with the salty sea air (as if it could cleanse and wash tained sin from his mind) gaze canting to the side as a familiar scent introduces itself to the brine

trance of the seraphim
caught in the devil's coils

whirling to crouch on the bench, bale-fire burning in his gaze

"Evenin', SnakeEyes."

smile curling vicious
hungry

He whirls, but she does not flinch, the tip of her head can only be seen as it is - filled with blushing pleasure as nickname falls from his lips first.. perhaps she is still, still his well behaved pet. She has tried, and done her best... she suckles the salt off the shell held between her lips, and tosses it to the boardwalk as she steps closer, voice soft..
"Evenin, Asher.."
..famished..

behaved, beloved, beheld
something ignites behind the smokey blue coils lurking deep within those eyes (how deeply do your cracks run) which inspires a sinister edge to that (adoring) smile

"How've you been, SnakeEyes."

one arm uncurling, reaching, breaching the distance between them in body's lean to hook in the sweetheart neckline of the corset and draw her closer like a prize fish on the cast line, until their lips almost touch, his breath warming skin in slow exhalation of purred murmur

"Been awhile...."

She doesn't fight the pull (she never would) though she almost forgets to breath (she never could) as he reels her in, her smile blossoming under the warmth of breath as she slides her hand along capturing arm, inching just that. much. closer to him - though lips do not touch...
"Lonely and worried... you?"
tongue slips from between her lips, moistening purrwarmed skin in the barest touch against his...
"Too long..."

lips part, drawing her taste across such a tainted (talented) tongue, before it reaches out to partake of the lower curving lip
tease
chortling softly the answer

"Aching..... craving...... starving......"

This brings laughter, soft and full as she arches closer still as tongue ignites lower lip, chortle dancing down her spine.. arm slides from his to wrap around his neck, fingers teasing through hair, nails scraping along his scalp lightly..
"....for?"
tease...

"You."

the single word a shockwave across her skin (hurricane's whisper) the breif plosive sound across full lips confronted with his (violating) smile
tones dropping to velvet croon

"I've still the reward to give you.... SnakeEyes..... you've been a good girl, yes?"

fingers (talons) drag up leather, peeling away tiny ribbons of once live flesh

"You've behaved while you've been waiting..... tell me you have, SnakeEyes.... I'd be heartbroken to hear you haven't. And don't you dare lie."

She moans, softly and melts closer as leather shreads and simple word careens through her senses, her smile soft (thrilled) as she looks up to meet mismatched gaze once more, gaze shining as the young (toy) girl comes alive under molestations gaze, violations haze..
"Yes.. sir, Asher I have.. I've done just as you asked.."
And she has, truth rings in her gaze, she defended his absense even to Kang, a tremble slipping through skinny frame in anticipations dance..
"always.. I did not even try to follow the messanger to find you... as you told me to wait... ohhhh."
the last the softest of eager moans
"I've waited so long.."

the monster and his creation (the child already damned) his touches aimed to play her as the finest instrument (toy) sculpted as the finest clay
Pygmaleon's perfectly molded dream
colored with the blush that rises beneath his purr that brings them so much closer, works spoken against her flesh

"And Manetheran?"

The head of his closeness rivels the natural burn of her own, nails playing along the back of his neck in scraping caress (cling), her voice a bare murmur that moans in echo of his purr..
"He said often you would not come back.. that the redhead was your new toy... but I knew, knew he was wrong, that you would not have forgotten.."

"No...."

still that vicious (seditious) croon, knuckles reaching to brush across left breast, knowing it's felt through the leather

"I haven't forgotten you.... or your reward..... you did so very well, SnakeEyes, I couldn't forget that."

the breifest of thoughts crosses the maelstrom of his mind
this mere fomor has proven herself more worthy than either of the corrupted Garou
such a pity
jaw stretching upwards to drape his voice across her ear

"I think it's time, don't you? Do you still have the room at the motel?"

She trembles under the touch that slides over left breast (writhing, yet silent. he remembers.) as she aches for more... this mere fomor that would die without second thought should he merely voice the wish trembling eager as she nods - without moving from the velveteen touch of voice over ear...
"Yes..."
To so very much, to everything... She would not leave without his approval..

oh, how he knows
and how he can cultivate such a desire with the merest thought and parlance of phrase

not a word is spoken, only praise chorus in the lines of communicative touch, rising from the bench to guide her towards the motel, key stolen from delicate fingers to unlock the door (locking it, tight, behind them)

not even the time is given for her to find the way out, to set the eye on the windowsill (SnakeEyes) instead he draws her to the mirror, arms circling her shoulders (python's crushing embrace) to stand behind her, watching their reflection

"Are you happy with what you see here, SnakeEyes?"

head tilting to rest his chin against stringy hair

She follows his lead, the touches that seer over skin and guide in symphony of caress, fingers lifting automatically to pluck even though she is stopped, the tremble quaking through her on a new level (panic) to twist with the desire that leads her to melt back against him, looking at the two of them, at herself cradled in her (god) master's arms, her smile soft (elated) as she nods..
"Oh yes..."
to be in his arms.. rapture.

tar spills from tanned skin, black fur leaking as the body behind her twists (mutilates) and grows, exhaled breath rumbled thunder against her back
the master (man) becomes monster (god)

........and now?....

whispered in ruthless elegance, the voice that can inspire her soul and tickle her flesh in a single phrase
handpaw lifted to brush knuckles across her jawline
half-crouching to maintain their embrace, to remain in the reflection, long tail swinging a steady heartbeat behind them

The man turns beast and eyes widen as tremble turns quake in his arms, fear held away by fanatic adoration, gaze shinking as she is swallowed by larger form, thunder vibrating against her back in rumbling caress as head tilts into his touch, gaze burning as they meet mismatched (godly, comanding) gaze...
"yes... you are beautiful.."
Barely breathed, her faith in her destiny (to serve and protect) unshakable....

the massive hand turns to cup her cheek, gaze burning in the mirror, blue glowing in uneven (unearthly) light to watch the waifish child within his black embrace
silent
as the spiral begins to form, heeding the call she cannot hear (and would never understand) showing itself to her, ghosting across their images in the mirror, the Black Spiral Dancer and the (his, always his) fomor

......Father....

.......remember, SnakeEyes, always remember right now..... how you have served, how you have pleased, how you have succeeded.... how you have made both me, and the Father, proud.......

underhinged muzzle soft brush over matted hair, contrast of midnight to the sun's bleached highlights, ebony lips twitch, as if struggling to form the (impossible) words that weave smoke-laden trails through her mind, the spiral's rivulets creeping across the floor, desperately searching to bestow their caressing gifts on skin

.... you've made me so very proud......

the taloned hand that cups her face tightens and braces
twisting to snap her neck

Waifish child cradled in the arms of her Savior, she near glows, glows with his praise, her eyes shining as they meet (eerily) mismatched gaze,
she leans into tightened grip with a moan of complete submission to this...
...his final wish.


and waifish form crumples in his arms.

and the black monster falls to crouch, cradling the frail form
even the swaying tail stills
a great sigh heaving in its chest

no further worries of her taints
no further worries of Pentex
no further worries
evermore

she is safe.... saved

the Father's smallest warrior has fulfilled his wishes, his deepest (darkest) desires
and now she returns to him, the spiral fading back into the mirror
just as the final breath passes from her lungs

long jaw lifting in a single, mourning, howl which is lost in the sounds of the carnival rides
to everyone but her

Posted by asher at September 25, 2002 12:00 AM
Comments
Post a comment
Name:


Email Address:


URL:


Comments:


Remember info?