The forest

[` n e k e n e k e]

She could sense it, the exact moment that his thoughts shifted from the desire to physically hurt her, to the desire to physically enjoy her. Not exactly an unexpected shift, the feeling of his hands on her backsides was, however. A small sound, an eep of sorts, rushed from her as his nails pierced her skin ever so slightly – the pain almost unnoticed as he pressed against her. Shivers ran up her spine. A lie, perhaps, to say she wasn’t enjoying the attention, but the sudden change was slightly disarming. Only slightly however, for as she was lifted, her legs found themselves quite useless, and immediately her thoughts shifted focus. Out of instinct, or habit, she wound their length around his hips, pressing against him as he held her rather… precariously.

Unable to stop it, the thought that he could just drop her on her butt scrambled across her mind. He wouldn’t dare, she thought, glancing at him. But then, perhaps, he would. Oh well. If he did, she would make him pay… in interesting ways, if nothing else. That brought a rather devious smirk to her lips, and looking at him then, she saw, almost, that he had begun to stop underestimating her. The thought made her grin. Internally at least, for grinning on the outside around this man would undoubtedly be foolish.

The n** made a blush sneak across her face, belying her youth once more as she angled her head slightly, allowing him room to touch… the touch of his lip on hers, however, made her mind tumble into overdrive. Without thinking, she flicked her tongue out once more, tasting the lines of his lips without a trace of innocence, feeling his lips quirk upwards into a smile. Dangerous, this one, she mused, her hands drifting over his thighs, before running back up his stomach. She was no fool, and she knew where he wanted her hands, but she wasn’t exactly about to be easy about such things. Silly thought, perhaps, wrapped around him as she was.

“Hellahi…I suppose I’m of such little importance that you wouldn’t care to know the name of the girl you’re mauling?”

Absently, as her hand splayed on his chest, her lips angled across his neck, nipping teasingly, almost biting his tender flesh.

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

(( OOC : Andy's wearing a skirt. ))
(( Beeecause I said so. ))
(( XDDD ))


Hellahi saw her cheeks redden, however slight her blushing was, and the urge to destroy and mutilate such youth surged anew.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind the feverish lust, the demon was angry with his own desires and struggled against them.
He hadn't wanted such feelings, and it seemed absurd to him that he couldn't shake them off as easily as he had with past femmes.
He couldn't, though.
As absurd as it was, desire had set its hooks in his consciousness, and they were barbed and deep.
He wanted her.
He hated it.
Her tongue darted skillfully, teasing his sensitive lips, and he repressed the urge to shudder.
Her comment, however, made him smile.
"I was right, girl... You are smart."
He tilted his head, elongating his neck, encouraging her lips on his throat. "Mmm..."
With ease, Hellahi hoised her higher, pinning her harder between himself and the tree. His tongue traced the lines of her cleavage.
Skin like cream, tender with youth.
His blood was roaring in his ears, and he could see her pulse beating in the hollow of her throat.
He freed one hand, shifting his weight slightly. Deftly, he began to work at gathering her skirts around her waist.
Having done so, he slid his hand up her inner thighs, feeling the heat of intensify as he grew closer to her nether regions.
With a terrible glee, he found her moist and eager.
He teased her with gentle, taunting nails, awaiting her desperate surge forward.
He kissed her, the notion unexpected to even himself. Her lips were soft, impossibly soft, and the soft probing of his tongue urged them to part.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

The touch under her skirt was a shock, and in such shock, she bit his neck slightly, scraping her fangs against the flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, not soft enough to go unnoticed. Thinking to stop him, she dropped her hands, going to shove his away from certain parts of her body. Then, his lips covered hers, and hers and she gasped, the action unexpected and yet, undeniably wanted. Melting against him, she felt his wrist under her hands, and, flicking her tongue against his casually before pulling back, she smiled, the look saucy and she grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from her thighs.

“As much fun as that would be, I don’t favor splinters along my back.”

Unwrapping her legs, she slid down the length of him, not bothering to fix her skirt – ruffled as it was. With her hand still on his wrist, she strode forwards, quite aware of the fact that he was undoubtedly catching glimpses of her very bare backside. A smirk lit her features as she tugged his wrist, glancing back at him with that oh-so-wicked gleam in her eyes,

“Do you, maybe, have somewhere where we could be a little more… private?”

Adding a soft pout for good measure, she let her thumb drag along the flesh of his arm, her expression almost… hopeful, that he would not refuse her.

[so… uh… AHEM ITS MORNING?]
[Teehee.]
[Andy gets more action than me.]

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

(( Um, yeah, it's morning. XD ))
(( They did it like freaky rabbits, and it was bloody and violent and passionate and GOOD. ))
(( SO ANYWAY. ))
(( ... Man, I wish I were Andy. D: ))

The slow rise of the sun gave the atmosphere a lulling saffron glow though, soothing as it was, Hellahi had yet to be coaxed to sleep.
Instead, he lay on his back with the sleeping, nameless femme on her side, resting her head on his shoulder.
Tendrils of her hair, dark and sweat-dampened, had grown clammy on her brow.
It was strange to hear her breathing slow and deeply, as he'd certainly heard nothing of the like the night before.
Laying there, admiring her sleep-stilled face, combing gentle finger through her tousled hair...
...there was an intimacy to it beyond lovemaking.
The night had been strange, full of unwanted, cruel desires. Hellahi couldn't even remember what had driven them to such passionate heights in the first instance. There was an invisible cord between them that trembled and vibrated and surged like the plucked string of a harp. He'd savored her pleasure as he'd raked his claws down her back, finding utmost joy in causing her pain...
...she'd seemed to enjoy it, too.
Having no name to put to his desires as he'd spent himself, he'd simply addressed her in Old Persian; Ishta, he'd called her, beloved, smiling to see her tremble. Srira, beautiful one.
He regretted and questioned it now but, in the afterglow of their firey encounter, it'd seemed right.
The demon, rendered soft and sated, devoid of any irritation and stress, tenderly stroked the fae's brow.
"Ishta..." he murmured, marveling at the pale glow the sunrise gifted her skin.
Again.
He wanted her.
And hated it.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

She was warm.

Snuggling closer to the source of the heat instinctively, she stretched slightly, arching her back and she blinked her eyes open. Slowly, the world came into focus. It was still dim, but not so dark as to allow her the notion it was nighttime. Pausing a moment to mentally peruse her body, she almost winced, feeling the soreness between her thighs. Not that she’d minded last night of course. Reminding herself that she was a demon, and that she would feel better rapidly if she just ignored the twinge, she glance at her pillow. And blinked stupidly.

He was still here? A softly spoken word, and fingers across her forehead. Not recognizing the language, she still felt the unusual urge to blush, but ignored it. Instead of sitting up and revealing her body to his gaze once more, she shifted away slightly, her eyes cast downwards, once more, to hide the thoughts within. After all, she didn’t want him to see the question in her eyes, to see the confusion that he was still here. True, she hadn’t been with many men, but she was experienced enough to know that they tended to dip and run, as it were. So why had he stayed?

A violent shake of her thoughts cause her mind to stop in that direction before she acted foolish. He was a volatile demon, and was probably just not sated. One more quickie before he took off, or something of that sort. Not that she’d mind. After all, she was a little sore, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Letting her lips turn upwards in a small smile, she spoke, her voice soft. It seemed… right, to speak quietly, as to not shatter the calm.

“Good morning… I didn’t expect to wake up with you still here.”

After all, he didn’t even know her name…

“What was that you just called me… ish something?”

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

As she shifted slightly from him, Hellahi could catch a glimpse of the gentle impress of her pillow on her face... and something unknown and distant roiled in his gut.
He swallowed the feeling, whatever it was, and shifted his blood-red eyes to hers.
Though she averted her gaze, he knew the question that surged within...
...even if he, himself, knew not the answer.
He forced himself to smile, his eyes crinkling at their corners.
"Good morning, indeed."
With a pleasant sort of sigh, he closed the space between them, despite her efforts to ease away. He took her inner thigh in his hand in hiked her leg upward, so that it lay draped over his lower body.
So he had them lay, an entwined mess of limbs and sheets.
He nearly hadn't heard her inquiry.
"Oh?" He blinked. "Oh, that... Ishta."
His smile returned, and he began toying with a lock of her hair.
"It's the language of the people I enslaved. An endearment of sorts." He looked at her lowered eyelids, intending to meet her gaze. "A compliment."

(( Wooow, craaaap. ))

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

The sigh confused her, as did the hold he suddenly had on her thigh. Confused enough not to resist when he pulled her closer, tangled their bodies together once more, she fought the urge to stare at him, instead looking down at their legs. She was smaller, no doubt about it, and softer. But then, for all her confidence and blustering, she was a lady, and she was sheltered in her own way. Not surprising, then, that she should be soft to the touch.

Feeling his hand in her hair, and his eyes on her face, she listened to him speak. And endearment? A compliment? Her gaze rose, catching his and holding. The question was still in her eyes, but she didn’t speak it out loud, choosing instead to revert to something she was far better at – her wits. A sly sort of smile tugged her lips, her eyes dancing as she masked the confusion, hiding it away to mull over later, when she was gone.

“Ah… do you call all those you take to bed this… Ishta?”

Her smile turned to a smirk, her hand idly tracing patterns on his stomach. The urge to leave was still there, but for the moment… well, staying couldn’t hurt too much.

“I suppose I could understand why. After all, saves you the hassle of learning the names of the women you discard.”

…That had sounded much less nasty in her mind. Refusing to say sorry, she stared absently down at her hands on his stomach, her smile fading as her hand stilled. Of course, she hoped, he wouldn’t see such a thing. He was a male, after all, a demon. She knew well enough from her brothers that a female was just a plaything, in 99 out of 100 cases. Besides, she laughed in her mind, even if he did want to be her friend, she doubted he’d be so good at the keeping his hands off her part.

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

Hellahi was about to reply to her inquiry when the much nastier comment escaped her lips.
He paused, closed his mouth, and narrowed his eyes fractionally.
What did she know of his bed-habits? It'd been scarce a time when he'd found the pleasure of a woman of her standards... and he even deigned to respect her for it. To be returned with such distaste...
After a moment, he sighed.
"Think what you will, girl," he said simply, as it was apparent that whatever she thought, she'd not be thinking highly of him anytime soon.
He slowly became aware of his thumb slowly caressing the smooth skin of her thigh.
"If it would please you, tell me your name, then."
Amidst their slight bickering, Hellahi wondered whether or not the closeness between them had anything to do with the demonic pull of each other's blood.
Perhaps that was the invisible cord he'd imagined between them... He felt a bit of a fool for not realizing it sooner.
But nothing muddles the mind like the yearnings of the flesh.
And he was a man; immortal, but none the wiser.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

Ducking her head slightly, she felt guilt. He’s honestly not looked very happy with her snarky words, and in that she had that oh-so-lovely feeling of guilt roiling in her gut, she knew, just knew, that she’d been a bit of a cow. She just couldn’t help it, having expected him to take off the moment she woke… but then, he was still here, wasn’t he? And asking her name, no less. A small smile played across her lips as his thumb idly caressed her flesh. Shivering slightly, she placed a small kiss on his neck, tender, quiet. Perhaps not quite the kiss she’d normally give, but then, she was going to apologize, wasn’t she?

“I’m sorry – that was uncalled for. I just… suppose I’m not exactly used to not just… being used.”

A flush crept up her skin and she fought it, refusing to meet his gaze. He didn’t need to see her look sad, or sorry, or anything of the sort. And, considering the fact that she was very much naked, she ought not be embarrassed. But still, apologizing had never been her thing. Neither had the morning after part, evidently. Worrying her lip with her teeth, she spoke again, softly.

“My name is Thousand Years of Death.. you may laugh, if you like. My father was not a very original man.”

“Or you could call me Andy. That’s what my brothers call me.”

She made a face at that, a part of her youthful innocence quite evident in that remark. Her brothers. She had a distinct feeling that Hellahi didn’t need to know about her brothers or he’d choose to no longer speak to her – or worse, poke fun at her.

She suddenly felt rather young and stupid. And it was obvious, just looking at him that he was none of those things.

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

Hellahi smiled at her apology, satisfied with it.
She'd felt she was being used...
Hellahi blinked. Had he used her? By some standard, yes, he believed he might've, but... He'd stayed, and they were exchanging pleasantries...
No, not "used", but... something else.
Hellahi gave a mental shrug, and decided it'd just been his way of getting acquainted with her.
At her introduction, he did laugh, just as she'd expected him to.
"Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue too easily, now, does it? Andy, then. I can remember that."
He smiled, again twining a lock of her hair around one of his fingers.
It felt so strange to the demon, speaking to this Andy as if she were his equal.
The sense peace that floated around them was rather contrary to his typical. He often felt stressed, taut with anger, brimming over with lust.
But this morning, he felt oddly sated... and succumbed to such peace.
He'd mull over the strangeness of it all later.
"Brothers, have you?"
Something grave glittered in the far shadows of his blood-red gaze.
The corners of his smile twitched, threatening to give way to a frown.
"Ah... I have those, as well. Two, actually..." He sighed inwardly. "We don't... see each other much."

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

She knew he was going to laugh at her name. But what she didn’t expect was the rueful little tug of her lips at the sound. A bit of pride eased into her mind. After all, she had made the demon laugh, and she had a feeling it wasn’t too often that that sound wasn’t accompanied by a dead body. Well, no matter, nobody called her by her name but her biological mother, and that, she knew was because if she didn’t use full names, she wouldn’t remember the names of the children around the place.

Feeling his hands in her hair, she smiled slightly. Though she knew the mass was bound of be tangled beyond all recognition, he still found it fun to toy with. Absently debating chopping the lot of it off – it had, after all, grown down to her knees since her days as a child, she dismissed such ideas. It would return within a week, as always. And besides, she secretly like her hair, all thick and auburn as it was. It was an original color – and she liked that part of herself, if not the rest of her form.

A frown tugged on her face at the tone he took when discussing his brothers. She had the feeling that they weren’t a very close knit family, and, thinking of her own, she supposed not many were the same as hers. But then, she thought, not many had a figurehead such as her father. Wrinkling her nose at the thought, the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I have one hundred and seventeen. Maybe more by now – I’ve been gone a while.”

Making a face in earnest, she let a laugh slip out.

“And would you believe I’m the only girl?”

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

"Hmm," Hellahi acknowledged her comments, though his eyes were far-off and distant. "That's interesting..."
His finger stilled in Andy's hair, and his other hand lay idle on her thigh.
Brothers.
There should've been so much meaning in that word.
There should've been love between them, as kin.
But, no.
If anything, Hellahi and his brothers completely and utterly despised one another.
It wasn't Rhaspu, the middle child... No. Though there was obviously a tightness, a sort of bitter awkwardness, between them... they still had one common interest they couldn't deny.
Tzorr. The youngest.
The shared object of their demise.
Perhaps the only reason things were so bitter between Hellahi and Rhaspu were because they were both hunting their youngest brother on their own.
In turn, only one of them would have the satisfation of killing him.
Hellahi lost himself in a silent torrent of hatred, paranoia, and bitter regret.
Where was Rhaspu? Had he already gotten to their baby brother?
His eyes narrowed a bit; he'd better not have...
It was strange, how one could either love or hate their kinsmen with all their being.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

Idly staring at him, she could tell by his demeanor that he hadn’t really heard what she was saying. Judging by their topic, she qould bet her life that he was thinking about his siblings. The shift in his hands to a halt drew her attention for a moment, before she peered back into his face. The emotions there confused her, in part because she herself adored her siblings and family, and in part because despite her nature, she still didn’t directly hate anybody. But, as his body stiffened slightly with his thoughts, she could tell that he hated them – or something similar – quite a bit.

Absently, she pried his hand from her hair, knowing that often when lost in though a hand would clench. And while she didn’t mind pain, she also didn’t want him to yank her hair out in a sudden rage, or something similar. Absently running her thumb over his hands, she let loose a sigh, unsure what to do. Should she ask if something was wrong? A glance at herself told her that she was, in fact, still naked. So getting up would be out of the question. Besides, for some odd reason she didn’t really want to move. What then?

As though she gave no though to it, and maybe she hadn’t given enough, her voice came forth again, her eyes worried.

“…is something the matter?”

 

[dumbblond1421]

Brushfire walked through the forest. She spotted a a tree to climb as she heard the noise she thought it was a good idea to climb it. She dug her nails into the ground and a chunk of dirt under her began to float and lifted her up to the canopy. She layed on a branch taking in all the sights and smells below and above her.