Forbidden Love

[Ry Dusk Nikolai]

Kaluke's purple eyes still rested on Mobius form. The wolves hadn't made a sound. "I'm afraid the Blood God wants her for more then just the Ceremony..." His smirk turned into a sneer, revealing his grey fangs, "He wants her as a mate." Lore finally made some short of movement. She hiccuped, swallowing back and almost choking on the bile that had risen in her throat.  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

Mobius laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "'Tis too late, Kaluke. Her purity is gone. We have already mated. The Blood God by vampirian law is required to stand down. A God he may be, but he is still bound by his laws. Relinquish my mate or suffer the greatest terror thou hast ever known!" His fangs grew a bit longer, and his eyes glowed red.  

[Ry Dusk Nikolai]

"Hmmm..." Kaluke paused. He hadn't expected them to mate so soon. Oh well. With a fierce shove, he pushed Lore into Mobius's stone cold chest before disppearing. He had to retreat...for now.

Lore merely stood quivering aginst Mobius, while the traces of the day were fully gone.  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

Mobius returned to normal. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to be a part of that... I had no idea..." He held her close, and began to cry.  

[Bellabie]

Meera walked nimbly and quickly. Her brittle form mastered the stones and crevices of the area with a kinesthetic memory. She paused, kneeling before the ruins of an alter and prayed.
She stood once more and continued. Her pace was feverish. As the moon crossed the sky, she drew nearer to the warmth of Their kind. They were waiting for her.  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

(Ooh, what wordcraft awaits us? Bellabie, you have me on the edge of my seat.)  

[Bellabie]

[You overestimate my humble abilities, dear sir. I fear I may disappoint.]
There was a circle of them, cloaked in a rusted orange. Each had three pairs of arms, with which they passed books and tied cords between each other. All moved in one fluid dance, despite their cross-legged sitting.
As Meera approached, the eldest in appearance paused. The entire circle froze, not a moment after, letting drop any objects passing between two.
"Sisters," Meera inquired, "whither wander ye?"
[You said to use a peculiar accent in my next character, Master Nightshade, and thus I give you a Shakespearian fashioned theme. To sleep, perchance to dream. To play, perchance to quote. Thus Meera speaks as said.]
The crones all eyed her warily, but then stretched their arms out, pulling her to the center of the circle. The eight of them spun her as they answered.
"The dawning from the seventh gate
Is a fiery one of fearful hate
He rides in darkness, cloaked in black
With winds of fury at his back.
We, sisters eight, saw at that shore,
And warn you child, of the dark he wore."
The girl nodded and turned. to faced the eldest looking once more.
"Thank you sister."
The circle parted. As she exited, the various arms of the witches draped her in scarves.
She walked towards the East.
[In other news, I've found a particular interest in the hijab. Not as a religious dress, but I think it's rather beautiful looking.
heart
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[Mileena Chardonnay]

(Is beink no problem. Mobius is beink quite old-fashioned, and vill understand vhat Meera is sayink.)  

[Bellabie]

[Oh, yes. Updated, by the way...]  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

(Is that a Macbeth reference? 'Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble...' The witches are reminiscent, non? And did I hear a Dark Lord reference, or a Reaper reference? *sighs* My storyline is somewhat dependant on Ry's character, and she won't be on for awhile. Forgive my lack of posts: I use a Reactionist method for RPing.)  

[Bellabie]

[Perhaps, perhaps. It is quite. Whither wander is of the Midsummer dream, but the witches crow an echo, there. Worry not, dear sir.]
Her journey over the brackish moor was tedious and tiring. The sun had baked some muddy flats, and they chipped as she trekked onward. The embers of red sun on the horizon beckoned her cover her eyes and hide her hands, but, garbed in her tasseled burqa, she moved on.  

[Bellabie]

As her calves began to ache and her eyes burn, she caught sight of her destination. A cave, hidden among many stones, emanated that warmth. She sped forwards, ignoring the pains, and approached, leaping from behind one boulder to another as she drew close.  

[Ry Dusk Nikolai]

((I am back ^^ Two week school vacation for me *cheers happily*))

Lore hiccuped slightly. She wrapped her arms around him, sliding onto her knees. She was so shook up, she couldn't even stand up, and she slid to her knees, leaning her forehead against his thigh, trying to take deep calm breaths before she could form a coherent question. "What was...that all about?" She still didn't realize she was still covered in the wolf's blood.  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

He focused away from her, trying to resist the stench of the blood which adorned her. "There is... a prophesy. The Blood God has a Chosen One on this planet... One who bears a bit of His magic in the very fibre of their being. From this Chosen One, two outcomes can occur; If the Chosen One finds true love, and creates a consumation of this love somehow, the vampire race shall return to humanity, and shall be allowed to pass on to the other side. However... If the Chosen One is slain on The Blood God's Altar, the Red Mist will envelope the earth, and all who come in contact with it shall become a vampire. The Mist is a blood-based vapour, and can infinitely sustain the vampire race, and thus the power-hungry see this option as being the best. However, it is wrong. Worse... YOU are the Chosen One... I'm sorry, but I can't hold it in any longer!" He turned on her, his eyes completely red. Mobius began to lick the wolf's blood off of her, his Hunger all-consuming. He was quick about it, like a starved beast, and finished quickly. He stopped after it was all gone, moved a few steps away from her, and slapped himself in the face. His eyes returned to normal. "I see you're wondering why I slapped myself. If I had stayed in that state, I might have fed on you or Turned you. Blood tends to get me frenzied."  

[Bellabie]

Meera tingled in sense of frenzy. She peered around the rim of the cave, warily eying the wolves, and evaluated the two figures. There was a man and a woman. The man stood a distance away and was clearly one of her kind. The other, pathetic, was merely a mortal.
She scurried up the cave's walls and approached.