Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, & Wisti)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: impishcharm on 25-06-2017, 22:51:54</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>25-06-2017, 22:51:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>Everything was prepared; little details tweaked with careful precision until he was satisfied.&nbsp; Everything had to be ready for his precious guest.&nbsp; Everything had to be <em>just right</em>.&nbsp; When he was finished, he went into the forest that welcomed her master; blending in until his body was swallowed up by the verdant brilliance of his home and the shadows therein.<br>&nbsp;<br>And from there, he waited for her.<br>&nbsp;<br>As part of their bargain for chasing off an evil presence from her land years ago, a fortnight of her absence had come and gone, and she was expected to arrive in his domain within the hour.&nbsp; When they first began the arrangement, letting her go had been an easy thing.&nbsp; Anticipated, even.&nbsp; She’d had the curiosity of any free-spirited youth, and he found he didn’t have much patience for teaching.&nbsp; Not after being alone for so long.&nbsp; Having consistent mortal company had raised his proverbial hackles, and when the time came to return her to her realm there’d been no second guessing.&nbsp; No lingering glances as her form walked away, and certainly no staring into the distance long after she’d left his sight.&nbsp; No, none of that had been an issue in the beginning.&nbsp; It was after they’d spent time together, baring parts of each other’s souls that he began to look forward to her arrival and dread her departure.<br>&nbsp;<br>In the best of times, such feelings were a nuisance.&nbsp; At the worst, well…<br>&nbsp;<br>It was agony.<br><br>Conri, as he’d been named by the young woman, utilized the many pair of eyes throughout to watch for her arrival.&nbsp; The owl perched on a limb; the wolf trotting across the path; the fox scavenging for food.&nbsp; Once she stepped into the circle in the human world, his magic would draw her into his, and keep her until it was time to release her yet again.&nbsp; The day was nearing its peak, bringing with it all the warmth and scents and life that was summer.&nbsp; When standing directly under the sun in his domain, one could feel the kiss of magic upon the skin.&nbsp; His magic.&nbsp; From the moment she stepped into his realm, she would be protected by it up until she left.&nbsp; Had he been strong enough, and were his magic able to reach that far, he would have had it follow her home.<br><div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c3/26/73/c32673dae42fab4d99cbcbfb716650c5.jpg)</div><br>As the sun rose, it spread light across the canopy of trees.&nbsp; The forest, at the start of it, was too dense to allow much light, leaving only enough illumination for her to tread safely should she decide to wander down that path.&nbsp; Even so, he trusted that she’d learned enough in her lessons to navigate his forest safely.&nbsp; It was the other unwelcome threats that would find it a chore to travel through, and had never failed to be an effective deterrent to the dubious guest.<br>&nbsp;<br>His original purposes for making the bargain were never founded.&nbsp; He had intended to ease the ache of loneliness with her in ways only a soft, supple body could, and when she began to show potential for other talents, he decided against it.&nbsp; And, after his opinion of that annoying girl shifted to the clever young woman, he decided he would never use her in that way.&nbsp; Instead, he took her under his wing to hone her senses.&nbsp; Sometimes he would cause her to go temporarily blind, or deaf; sometimes he would strip the forest of all sound, or all light.&nbsp; He loved watching the initial struggle; it made her triumphs that much sweeter, and he looked upon her with pride, knowing he helped create the confident, powerful woman she had become.<br><br>This time, he didn't set a trap for her as was his usual; she'd started to outgrow his tricks, anyway.&nbsp; Instead, he had something special for her, and couldn't wait to present it.<br>&nbsp;<br>It was during his vigil that another thought came to mind; one that he often revisited.&nbsp; She was <em>his</em>, and that, no matter how vehemently he knew it to be true, he also knew that she could never be <em>just</em> his.&nbsp; Their worlds were too different, and their natures.&nbsp; She deserved more than being trapped in a fae’s bargain.<br>&nbsp;<br>He sensed a shift that was a precursor to her arrival, though something was… off, and he couldn't quite place it yet.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>25-06-2017, 23:26:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>Too slow the days had passed during the last fortnight as she had been in the village of her childhood all the while yearning to venture to the woods. Perhaps it was just that now at the age of seventeen it was harder to deflect the mentions of a suitable husband when her parents brought up the notion, though the reminder that she had magic had made them delay this long. Her two older brothers had both wed, and the second oldest lass, Muirin, just this past spring. Yet Liadain avoided such complications, living for the days where she was able to escape into the depth of the wild forest that backed against their small village to enter another realm. Her parents would not believe the truth if she told them how she had first met the ancient being she had named Conri upon discovering he had lost memory of even his name. They would scoff at the notion that in a circle of ancient standing stones she pricked a finger and let the blood droplet that welled from it touch against the center stone and by that key entered a world unlike any they had known. <br><br>Each season it became harder to feel as if she belonged to the world of the village anymore, with the magic that thrummed within her only deepening as time passed rather then lessening. While she was no real rival to Conri's own magic for a human she was inordinately gifted, and while her parents and siblings had accepted the gifts she had given them, glass jars to store preserves, extra fertility in the soil and anti fire charms in the hay loft they did not speak of them to others and disguised them as best they could. To the others in the village she went to visit an aunt in a village through the forest, not that most would venture through the tangled wood and so her story had held up well enough in the past years. <br><br>Now as the sense of Conri's dark magic swept over her, encircling her even Liadian stepped from the mortal realm into his other world with a smile on her lips. The darkness of the wood when she first ventured into his domain did not worry her, the path was familiar and beloved at this point. Swiftly she took it, her footsteps sure of their placement even with the snaking roots of trees and rustling of creatures who preferred the shadows on either side of her path. His beasts never plagued her, or rather, hadn't since she had first come upon this place when she had claimed only twelve winters to her name and been following the dim recollection of a dream. <br><br>And yet....<br><br>The sense of something subtle being off lingered as it had the past few days in the village, a sense of someone watching her, following her though any magic she attempted to discern who it might be had revealed nothing. Frowning the maiden hastened her pace until she reached where the sun slipped through the canopy high above and whistled sharply to summon to her side the wolf pack that she had first found Conri with. Three of the wolves appeared, their ears pricked for while she had been a playmate these past five years she did not typically call to them before greeting the fae. With some protection to argument her own abilities the girl turned toward the path she had just followed, her troubled blue eyes unable to discern the figure of another. Calling the spark of lightning to her palm, to let it dance upon her slender fingers was easy enough, yet there was nothing to strike at save the same forest she had seen hundreds of times. Perhaps she was simply too excitable, though any lass would be when given departing kisses like those Conri had begun to claim. <br><br>"I suppose I must be over reacting..." Liadian dismissed the magic she had beckoned to her hand and instead gave each of the wolves an affectionate pet behind the ears. They woofed at her, sniffing to catch the scents of the outside world even as they welcomed her back. "Go on with you, I'll come visit when I convince the ancient one to romp with us." Particularly since he had promised to teach her how to shape shift into a wolf soon. Tails wagged in approval before the young wolves raced off to rejoin the pack and she tugged at her long braid to refocus herself. While it was no secret that she was smitten with the male Liadian had no wish to let him see her being spooked over nothing. Or concerned over the murmurs of a betrothal. She would wed no mortal man, not when she had already vowed herself to belong to him forever. Yet what would he think if she offered to stay rather than depart each fortnight? He was an ancient being use to his solitude, and while she no longer annoyed him as she once had he might enjoy his solitude. <br><br>Standing on the path would get her no where though, so she turned her attention back to the forest around her, casting out her senses as Conri had taught her to locate him amid the hum of wildlife and nature. Ah, there. A smile curved on her lips as the fair skinned maiden started for where she sensed him, unraveling her braid as she went for he had remarked on enjoying the sight of her hair unbound. Yes, she was simply over reacting, and perhaps before he sent her away again she would gather the courage to bring up remaining this time. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>26-06-2017, 18:45:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There were, of course, moments where he wondered how he had ended up 'here'. It was the 'here' that constantly changed, but the answer regardless was the same. This time 'here' involved a village and rumors of darkness, acts of heresay, of the profane. This time had lead Gregor to 'this' point, the subtle application of the power that God had imbibed him with to be this perfect warrior, this weapon of light to smite the shadows that would attempt to encroach and consume that which was holy and good. God had seen to his creation, the Good Fathers had whispered as bed time story to the child who grew into the man, who now cloaked himself, following a young maiden through the wilds and then into something far more wild then perhaps she had even considered in her quiet slumbers. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The answer to any question he had ever asked was the same. It was etched into the bones of his ribs, carved into the lines of his lean muscular make up, it was was found within the amber colored orbs of his eyes when caught upon reflection, his acceptance of it was born to flesh in the scars that littered his earthly shell. It was as constant as the heart that beat within his chest or his intake of breath, each which the Good Father's had taught him was a prayer in another form. The purpose of the questions may well have changed since the foundling, the orphan had become a man, raised in the cloth, raised to fight, trained to hunt, but the answer it remained the same: <br><br><div align="center"><strong>Because God has willed it. </strong></div><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Just as He now gave Gregor the strength to follow into the deeper wilds, the subtle touch of glamour to cloak and disguise his form along with the use of shadows to seep about him. He knew not whose realm he traversed in, but God did. He knew not the story of the girl, whose form and actions he had observed for days now or why she would chose to unbind her hair as those wolves remained. Within the confines of his chest, his heart beat steadily, the warriors training to keep it moderated and to it steady as Gregor removed emotions from the equation, focusing instead upon what he could count as facts. The wolves..familiars? Eyes? Instruments of the damned to collect more for their retinue? The wilds changed, the flavor of magic could be felt, power older perhaps archaic lingered upon vines and leaves, it whispered in the breeze. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was easier to pull back from the focus and allow his leather armored form to sulk into shadows. To allow there to become a safer distance between himself and those animals that moved near to her person. Regard would have to be given for what he had seen when inspecting her home, when observing her person, flavored with the interactions that he had oversaw from her blood. <br><br>Gods will did not change the apprehension that grew within the core of the man, that something was far from right. But it did steel his nerve as he began once more to follow the maiden once the wolves had been given their leave and raced off to rejoin their pack in the opposite direction of his manipulated space. And so he would push on in the way that only those who feel they are righteously protected can or would, even into the maw of what may be their undoing. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>02-07-2017, 18:35:43</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>The ancient one knew exactly when his prodigy crossed the divide; an intuition that was inherent in the old magic found in his being.&nbsp; As always, he could pinpoint her exact location, and used those creatures around her to watch, survey, and anticipate her next move.&nbsp; He did not shield himself from her, as he was eager to present his gift, instead creating a beacon to which she’d be drawn.&nbsp; Something was different about her arrival, however.&nbsp; He sensed it immediately, as did she.&nbsp; Something else - <em>someone</em> else entered into his domain, and this new presence did not carry with him an invitation from either.&nbsp; Conri watched over Liadian as he simultaneously studied the man, drawing closer so she wouldn’t have to travel far before she reached the safety he provided.&nbsp; Not that she would ever be in danger while in his realm.<br>&nbsp;<br><em>Asthore…</em>&nbsp; Came the disembodied voice, floating around her like a butterfly on tender wings.&nbsp; <em>You do not come alone this time…</em>&nbsp; He sounded more curious than heated, all which could change within an instant.&nbsp; The wind stirred around her, drawing her deeper into the forest where she would be shielded among shadows.&nbsp; And, once tucked away, out of the man’s sight, all attention was turned toward the intruder.<br>&nbsp;<br>There was a shift in the air that would make any mortal shiver as incorporeal eyes settled on the man, compelling fear.&nbsp; The wind stopped as the forest quieted; animals scattered in the opposite direction, and unnamed creatures abandoned the man to his fate, leaving an eerie calm in their place.&nbsp; Something slithered through the fallen leaves around the man’s boots, punctuating just how silent everything else around him had become.&nbsp; The tip of a vine as thick as a thumb peeked from the dense layer and began to weave around his ankle.&nbsp; Another from the other side mirrored the action on the other ankle, and yet another slithered down the tree nearest him, its origins undetectable, as it went to curl about the waist.&nbsp; They sought to chain him to the rough bark so that he was incapable of defending himself… or causing injury to that which the ancient one treasured most.&nbsp; Liadian.&nbsp; <em>His</em> Liadian.<br>&nbsp;<br>The man could choose to run, or fight; there were other <em>things</em> lurking about that would aid in stopping him.&nbsp; Once entering, there was no escape until the fae willed it.<br>&nbsp;<br><em>Intruder</em>, the word was accusatory, and echoed all around the man from an unknown source.&nbsp; <em>Tender morsel,</em> he growled the last bit, the word as tangible as nails scratching down his back.&nbsp; He was playing with him, entertaining himself.&nbsp; It'd been so long since someone new had come into his home.<br>&nbsp;<br>As he waited, Conri looked over the man and into him, searching for the things that drove him.&nbsp; His passions; his dreams; his heart.&nbsp; Everything that would make a man buckle to his knees, and everything that would make him surrender.&nbsp; He reached into the deepest part of him, touching his soul, and instantly knew he could be of value.<br>&nbsp;<br><em>Let us make a bargain…</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>03-07-2017, 18:29:38</strong>
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				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The precariousness of the situation tainted the air about him, it danced over the leather that clothed his form like a vapor. Oh, he could almost convice himself that all would be well, that all was safe and guided by the hand of the One above. The plait of his long blonde hair wrapped by a motion of his hand about his throat to hold it from dancing as he moved along the shadowed line, pausing only when the girl he stalked seemed but an illusion wrapped within an illusion. <br><br><em>Sorcery. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Dark craft. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Danger...<br></em><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The hiss of his breath came sharp from Gregor's lips as he gesticulated the sign of the cross, the faintest curve of one side of his mouth into sneer as his muscles and nerves began to respond to what was coming. Knowing it would. How could the shadows bear the light that was God radiant and seeking? And come it did, in the form of winds that ceased and animals that struck their paniced flight, as if to find shelter from the oncoming storm that would upset the balance the thing used obviously to mask his twisted truth. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The sound of the rustling leaves, the silence unnatural broken by the hiss creep song of something slithering drew his attention first, the force of blade called to palm by the flick of wrist after cross was kissed was his answer. The man was not untrained, nor did he lack his own gifts to be used when needed. But it was his belief that such was only to be called upon in the extreme cases as to not tempt him into vanity or thought that it was his to use, would be his undoing in this case. Blade edge may well sever the vine that held his ankle, but it would do naught for the next or the other that might come as he found himself pulled to rough bark that bit into the leather and caused the friction that blood blessed the innards of his casing as he writhed, blade glimmer flashing as he sheered what he could before ..well before the sound that filled the air compelled some silence within his movements. <br><br><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Demon."</strong> The words that came to his ears may well have been accusatory, but his own answer was softly uttered as if classifying that which was. True name not known to him, not yet, but as the tainted growl reached his ears he felt the danger in the tone and texture of the force that pushed it into being in his mind.&nbsp; Could he feel the power and weight of that which gazed upon him and through him? Into the core where the thoughts that even could not be thought without the pain of blasphemy tainting his soul, that is where the searching presence invaded. Into the meat of the man, who was not merely man, but tool and weapon, his heart in placement most divine but his soul a woven thing of tormented complexity laced with the mettle and worth of being. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was that mettle, the conviction of one who had known nothing but his faith as power and his weakness both that flavored the thought which came now. No words, for if this being was as powerful as Gregor believed him to be, what point were the wasted words?<em> "Bargain? Shadow Sulker, what would keep you to bargain, other then your truthful name and bond. Suffer not bargains with the darkness, for the darkness knows only its truth: that everything can be corrupted and tainted once welcomed in."</em> His body flexed as if to test the strength of the vines that wrapped him so, holding him trussed tightly to the tree. The blade though, that he turned between deft fingers to let his grip tighten against. Sacrifice in blood as the calloused grip felt the slice of blade and the warmth of blood that began to slide down to fingertips. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so he began to pray, as if to pray might silence the voice within his head, as if to pray might break the silence unnatural that showed the power of the one who now held him as such. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>04-07-2017, 04:15:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>While she might readily dismiss her own instincts when sensing something oh so subtly out of place, Liadian had no such doubts about Conri's abilities to detect aberrations within his domain. She had felt him, the moment she reached for him, felt his welcoming touch like a bright light filling her with joy and a sense of eagerness. For it was her mentor who truly understood her, who let her be herself without reservation. <em>A chuisle, do you sense it as well?</em> Her query sent through their shared bond was nervous, a hint of fear that had not been within her since first she sought him out as a young lass and made her bargain to protect both herself and her people. <br><br>The lack of fear in his tone was what kept her from panic, kept her serene enough to move forward as though nothing were happen. If Conri were the wolf to stalk this interloper than she would play the bait to lure the stranger deeper into the trap that would snap around them. Yet even as she gathered her courage to do just that she felt the air change around her, felt the shadows deepen and knew he had tucked her away beneath the safety of his magic so that she would face no danger. His thoughtful need to protect her made the young red haired maid's heart twist, another layer of sentiment added to her growing attachment to the male. <br><br>Hidden in plain sight within his magic Liadian watched with her green eyes ablaze fiercely, wishing to know just who would dare to enter Contri's domain without his invitation. That she had done the same some time ago was different, she had come seeking aid, not stealing after another the way a murderer skulked in shadows. Perhaps it was her anger, or the fae's magic, but the air shimmered on the path she had so recently traversed and she was able to at last see the one who had sought to steal after her as a thief in the night might. He was tall of form, though not so tall as Conri while his shoulders were broader, his face more rugged compared to the sharp beauty of her mentor. And his hair was as golden as the sunlight, his form clad in leather that had likely seen better days though it clung to him marvelously well. <br><br>A smile of satisfaction curved on her lips as he found himself bound by the very forest he had walked so unthinkingly into. Foolish male, whoever he was, for this forest was not as others. This was a living, breathing extension of Conri's whim as she had learned countless times over the years. Ill content to simply watch her hand went to the dagger she brought with her to the forest, tucked into her belt and drew it from it's small sheath. The blade lay confidently in her palm, a gift from Conri when she had insisted on learning how best to defend herself with some sort of weapon. Conri formed, appearing, her heart beating faster as she stepped toward him and felt the shadows tug her back as the fae circled his new found prey. <br>&nbsp;<br>A bargain. She heard only the ghost of that comment but she strained against his magic then, her passion flaring. "Nay, Conri please, whoever this stranger is he deserves not the blessing of your knowledge and power. Why should you offer him anything when he would decry you a demon." Her disdain for the stranger was apparent, in truth the most important figure within her life was her mentor, for her he was as a fixed point, a star that she always moved in the direction of. "Cast him out, be done with it." 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-07-2017, 20:46:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>The shadows stirred around the man as he struggled, as if something were watching, and growing impatient.&nbsp; A few swipes of the blade proved futile when contending with the vines, and within moments they had the mortal subdued and effectively bound to the tree.&nbsp; Any attempt to fight back would be rendered impotent, and a waste of energy.&nbsp; As long as the fae wished the man to be held, he would remain his captive.<br><br>A shift began in the air, tugging the darkness inward from every which way until all light was banished.&nbsp; Tendrils of black smoke crept along the forest floor, billowing gracefully over uplifted roots and debris until it fed into a concentrated mass just a few feet front of the intruder.&nbsp; In the space of a few heartbeats the smoke started to take shape, then became a solid form, revealing a tall figure as the darkness dripped off of him like black ink, seeping into the ground at his feet to collect into his pool of magic once more.&nbsp; What, or who, stared down at the man was now a being not unlike those found in lore, with natural markings akin to a strange beast on his features, dark-rimmed eyes and long, wavy hair that reached down his entire back.&nbsp; He wore a simple long-sleeved robe that was left open to a chest endorsed with necklaces, and dark pants that were light in material so his movements wouldn’t be impeded.<br><br>Perhaps the most prominent and eye-catching feature were the two spiraling horns sprouting from his head, tipped to wicked points that were not welcoming to touch.&nbsp; While different, they were not likely the first thing to set him apart from humans.&nbsp; His magic, both old and perpetual, and its influence seeped out of him without effort.&nbsp; It was as much a part of him as his limbs, and trying to contain such a formless trait was like bottling air.&nbsp; Impossible.<br><br>Liadian, his apprentice, spoke out in her desperation, and without taking his eyes off the intruder he responded.&nbsp; “I offer life, <em>Asthore</em>, nothing more.&nbsp; His life for his servitude.&nbsp; That is the way it works.”&nbsp; The fae’s voice carried throughout in a calm, smooth cadence; such richness would never be replicated in a human’s throat.<br><br>“There are truths in you, mortal.&nbsp; Truths and truths… but I only offer one, should you accept.&nbsp; Your life for your servitude.&nbsp; My word is as good as yours, and we both know you are bound by your word just as much as I.”&nbsp; Conri’s kind were not able to outwardly speak a lie, though he’d grown quite adept at wordplay.&nbsp; Some things could be worked around, while some could not.&nbsp; If the human did not accept the trade, he would kill him.&nbsp; There was a reason why the man had followed Liadian into his woods; none of which would bode well for her, should he simply be cast out, as she had requested.<br><br>Such a rare opportunity needed to be considered, as he hadn’t had someone to navigate between worlds to do his bidding in many, many years.<br><br>“What will it be, human?&nbsp; Choose now and let us be done with it.&nbsp; I have things needing tending.”&nbsp; A maiden, in particular, whose kiss he’d missed.&nbsp; Whose last touch left ghostly caresses on his skin that wouldn’t stop.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>08-07-2017, 07:03:26</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the studies that had consumed his youth there had been tales of daimōn. Not that the boy at the time had cared for Plato's words or the inspiration of Socrates. But to know there were no connotations of evil or malevolence had been taught only to have the concepts scoured out by rod and staff laid to bare flesh, so that there was no mistaking that all that held power that was not God working directly through them were to be hunted and laid to fire to return them to their Lord and Master of the Pit. Perhaps what had him trussed and thrust to the rough bark was a shedim, or a .. <br><br><br><div align="center"><strong>Did it matter? </strong></div><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His blade was useless and as the shadows behaved more like some miasma, thick and full of their own dangerous intention it became clear to him. Gregor was unprepared. His gesticulations were taken from him as the wrist found itself taunt bound, the blood that dripped to the earth such possessed by that which controlled the vines did nothing. Lost was that component of his God given power here. Where even angels must fear to tread, it would seem. Impotent indeed, but impotence did not serve the religious warrior well, as he grit his teeth and hissed out incantations to ward himself, knowing before they even left the lips that they would do good. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light was stripped and in its place, that which would Be arose from the tendrils of black smoke and ether such a form was crafted, it's appearance indeed strange and majestic, even Gregor could not assume to lie that it was not. The look within those dark rimmed eyes was almost feral in it's nature and the markings gave only the most primal sensations of fear. Not of this realm, not of this earth, not of the sky and not of the water. The blood within the half mortal ran cold as he drew in a hissed breath to that which he heard. She was no victim in this, that maiden he had sought to protect from herself.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Had she been bait? Was he naught but Sampson to be sacrificed bodily for another amusement? Was this what the years of training and supplication had purchased him? Within the leather armor his body flexed, that want to break free meaning if he broke arm to do so, so be it. Fury chased the chill within his veins as his eyes were brought upwards locking with the horned creature, deigning not to even cast gaze to the one who was spoken to in such a lyrical voice. Clench jawed and seething, his own shame at pride and foolishness which had lead to this end bitter in the back of his throat as "It" spoke words to him. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"No man can work for two masters, for either he will hate one and will love the other, or he will honor one and the other he will ignore." </strong>The words were tension hissed from his lips as he quoted the Aramaic translation. The influence of Conri was not lost upon Gregor, nor was the words and sounds of the beauty beside him, the one the creature called Asthore. <strong>"That is one of those truths..and my Master is He who knows all." </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"My life&nbsp; is not my own, Creature. Should you take it from me, so be it as His will. That is what servitude is, is it not?"</strong> The weight of his words were rasped from throat as his eyes turned downwards, the tension seen in his features as those vines provided only the evidence that this may well be his last breaths and last words. Prayers ran through the back of his mind as his palm clenched tight, the dripping crimson soothing to him even if it were&nbsp; but evidence of his impotence in this situation. Oh, he knew well the Creatures word would be his bond, trickery aside, for what spirit was not trickster by creation and crafting? <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But this..this thought is the one that brought pause to him as he turned his gaze upwards to meet those Dark Rimmed eyes.&nbsp; <strong>"My word is my bond as is yours, but it has been given to another first, before you. Unbreakable that is, Creature. But perhaps.."</strong> His breath was ragged as his mind whirled trying to think of a way to survive the situation, unwilling to die not like this, not this cowards death caused by pride and foolishness. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"I accept your offer with the condition that your servitude not hold me from the purpose He has given me. Your orders cannot be in direct violation of the codes by which I am bond and bonded."</strong> Was it enough? Would it be? The each second that moved by seemed to be suffocating, seemed to be pain racked as the bark bit into skin and the vines played their torment and his worth and weight hung within the balances of one not his God, but something all together different. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>10-07-2017, 03:01:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>He appeared just as she had known he would, where she had first espied his magic coalescing in the middle of the pathway. That he positioned himself between her now hidden form and that of the interloper was no shock, he was ever a protective mentor and had snarled once when one of the wolves had accidentally bitten her during a romp. Now in face of true danger he reacted like he would have for any thing he viewed his property, though, she recalled the kisses they had shared over the past year, the building heat between them and allowed herself a moment of feeling that his protectiveness was also due to who she was to him, his <em>Asthore</em>. <br><br>For all the near danger the stranger presented the redhead's breath still caught upon the sight of Conri in all his dark, otherworldly glory. There was no one like him, not with his feral shadows, with that glint in his eyes that promised both mischief and affection for her. And her parents wished her to wed the butcher's son. It was impossible, after tasting the beloved decadence of his lips against her own, knowing the thrumming in her blood he stirred. Attempting to gaze at him as the stranger might Liadian supposed he might seem fearsome, so tall and proud, with those dark, knowing eyes, the flowing midnight hair and his spiraling horns. But she loved each of those things, for they were <em>him</em>, and for her they meant home, rather than terror. <br><br>Conri replied to her passionate retort at the notion of allowing the interloper anything, though she was silenced when he mentioned servitude. Was that then what she was to him, a pretty plaything, a servant? What lay between them was unspoken, in part no doubt because she did return to the family she fit with less and less each fortnight. The lass was too proud to admit her insecurities, or to ask for what the immortal fae could not give to a human who would likely live only a blink of an eye for him. And so she sheathed her dagger, and her tongue, waiting in silence with an ache in her heart and only a dim interest in what truth her mentor might offer to the other male. <br><br>A bitter laugh rose within her at the quote of scripture she had long since ceased to believe in, after all she could read well the lines that wove through the translations, now that Conri had taught her to read in years past. There was no God, surely, at the height of the worship offered him but another immortal being hungry for power in a world that no longer held to the old ways. <strong>"No being, however powerful, truly knows all." </strong> Liadian did not put an effort to disguise her scorn for so foolish a thought, the male content to be a sheep led to the slaughter it seemed. Yet when he spoke of his life not being his own the maiden felt a stirring of empathy perhaps, because her life had been her wolf lord's for years now. The scent of bright, coppery blood slid through the air; a stark contrast to the rich loam of the forest, with it's green growing life. <br><br>When at last the stranger deigned to reply to Conri's offer rather than simply protest it Liadian laughed in truth, a husky, bubbling sound that filled the air, tinged with mirth. <strong>"Why, my lord mentor, he weaves as pretty as you in his speech. No wonder you thought to deal with him."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>31-07-2017, 00:51:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>Conri regarded the man with waning patience; the only thing saving the mortal was the fae’s own curiosity.&nbsp; Liadian kept him occupied for the duration of her visits, but aside from her presence, it’d been so very long since another human had dared enter his realm.&nbsp; It served as a reminder that he’d become more lax in his years… a little too lax, for his tastes.&nbsp; He realized it could have been to the detriment of his pupil, and if anything happened to her because of his doing he would never be able to forgive himself.&nbsp; He simply would cease to be the troublesome creature she knew him to be.&nbsp; He would become… other.&nbsp; A barren soul.&nbsp; Empty.<br><br>The right thing to do would be to destroy the human and make a grand presentation of it so that none would attempt a repeat of his offense, but that would only serve one purpose.&nbsp; Conri had many to be carried out, and he could continue to punish the human along the way.&nbsp; Yes, this course was much more beneficial to all of them, in the end.<br><br>The blood leaking from the man’s wounds dripped onto the bed of leaves beneath him, each splash of scarlet sizzling as it seeped into the earth and sent up thin tendrils of smoke.&nbsp; Conri licked his lips as if to appreciate the taste that hadn’t touched his tongue - there was no need when the soil, that which was apart of the fae, absorbed the essence for him.&nbsp; “Interesting how someone so innocent could be so corrupted.”&nbsp; He mused aloud, eyes flicking to a vine swerving down the trunk like a predatory serpent and striking just as quick, wrapping around the man’s exposed neck in a noose while still providing enough slack to breathe.&nbsp; That, and only that, was all the comfort he was allowed.<br><br>And just like that, the last of his patience burned out.<br><br>He stepped forward and crouched in front of the prisoner, his thick robes billowing out before they settled over the ground flora.&nbsp; Dark eyes swirled with that inky blackness as he snarled, “I care not for your bonds, human, and you are in no position to make demands.&nbsp; You came here, in <em>my</em> land, unbidden, riding the heels of <em>my</em> apprentice with questionable intentions.&nbsp; You are given an ounce of mercy when I should rend flesh from bone in strips and use them denounce your <em>god</em> using his own scripture,” he spat, all while the vine tightened enough to make drawing breath difficult, “and you waste your words on trying to save a soul that is no longer yours to give.”<br><br>Conri’s outburst left him simmering, and now that their gazes were levelled, he was able to give him a glimpse of himself that he never gave Liadian.&nbsp; It was a part that he swore he’d never allow her to see, for fear of frightening her off.&nbsp; If she never returned, it would destroy him, so he had hidden the darkness within him and endeavored to only show her the light.&nbsp; This man, though, this troublesome mortal, was given the brunt of all that stored anger and malice.&nbsp; He was shown what it would be like to have the fae as an enemy.<br><br>“Your word, human, that you will serve <em>me</em> and <em>my</em> purpose, and you may yet live to pray to your heathen god.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>04-08-2017, 05:09:23</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>Gregor shuddered, the lean muscles that made the cage of flesh that held his spirit encased, forced to bear the shame that came from his own hubris. Blonde locks escaped the warriors braid to hang loose and mussed about his sharp cheek bones, even as the girls scorn struck him, even as the precariousness of the situation screamed it's own warning within his mind. She spoke of no one knowing, no god, no spirit, no thing, and by that she included the being before them both, the one she obviously served. He cared not for the lack of disguise for her malice nor for the stirring of empathy that may have been seen within her eyes, should he have been looking upon her. No. What burnt him from Liadian was the fact she compared his words, his offering, his sacrifice of some part of his soul, to the Thing before him. <br><br>Amber colored eyes watched the Thing, the daemon, not demon. Even as Gregor's blood oozed from wounds and danced across his chest, across his fingertips to anoint the earth only to sizzle and seep. The words that came mused from abyssal pooled Thing, forcing Gregor to close his eyes, to lock away his own emotions as the noose itself coiled about the thickness of his throat, slowly tightening, slowly compressing upon the flesh and restricting the air but not blocking it completely. At least..<br><br><em>not yet. </em><br><br>The words given spat in the face the man's&nbsp; beliefs, the very things that had from his childhood been beaten and burned into his flesh. It would be easy to argue the points, but it would be like arguing with the mad to point out that all parties were equally convicted and equally believed themselves to be right. The knowledge of that, forced his lips to curve into an almost smile, a grimace that spoke nothing and yet everything.&nbsp; But his eyes opened in time to see the horror laid out before him, to see the netherword and the darkness that pooled there. <br><br>It was just as the Priests and Crusaders had told him it would be. Endless and horrible, terrible and filled with the inexplicable bowel chilling torments. Anger and malice, rage and a tempest of other dark emotions swirled and with showing him, how could Gregor not see it as truth revealled? How could he not find solace in the fact that the what had been taught to him, quite obviously existed. For here was a creature of Darkness, old and powerful, who had somehow enthralled an apprentice, of a young maiden who for all her appearances had begun to be tainted by that which owned this place, this realm, this small corner of a larger existence and ruled it. <br><br>But the Daemon had spoken a truth that allowed the words that came next. His soul was not his to sell. For it was given in sacrifice long before this day. <br><br><strong>"Oh, aye. I will serve you and your purpose, Thing. And I will pray to mine God with each breath." </strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>09-08-2017, 17:11:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>In their time together as teacher and student she had provoked Conri's temper a time or two, such was the manner of her personality to push against boundary lines. But she had never known his true fury, that she realized as she watched him crouch near the captive and snarl in a voice almost unrecognizable. A touch of fear tried to kindle within her, but it was abruptly snuffed out in place of a sense of safety that he was so protective over her as well as a fierce attraction to the savage brutal force of his primordial self. Perhaps it was a sign of how much she had changed over the years, that she found only a sense of security and arousal in his vicious demands yet Liadian could not change how she felt toward him, nor would she want to. <br><br>The metallic scent of blood deepened, and she watched as a vine wrapped firmly around the golden haired male's neck to further imprison him to her Lord's whim. Yet still he resisted, and she found herself begrudgingly admiring a personality that did not simply give way before Conri's demands. It took a strength of spirit and conviction to do so, the only reason she at a tender twelve summers of age had been able to hold fast before the immortal fae had been the fear of what her dreams had shown her coming to pass. <br><br>When the stranger almost smiled, the expression partially pained and a touch amused, Liadian tensed, wondering what he intended. Yet he spoke no words to share those thoughts, and his lashes parted to view Conri in his furious splendor. And so she abided in her silence, waiting, watching with yearning to have Conri's arms around her. <br><br>At last came words vowing to serve her Lord, yet the promise to pray still to the heathen God had her frowning, a disquiet in her soul for she doubted they could truly trust the stranger. A thought, cast out, summoned the wolf pack back to her side, or rather to their Master's, forming a wall of furry, snarling death should Conri release his captive and the man be fool enough to try and strike against the fae. It was all she could think to do, not wishing to upset Conri by moving to his side herself. Let the man think her powerless save for what Conri gave her, Liadian knew the strength of her own magic well and knew she had the ability to surprise even the ancient one at times. And if he sought to harm that which she held most dear it would be her hand that sought his death. <br><br>"I suppose that means we shall have a guest for some time then." There was a note of reluctant acceptance to her tone where she spoke from hidden shadows. Her time with Conri was scant enough without having to share it with one who so clearly did not deserve it. "I suppose the dinning table will be happy to see more food partaken of." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>13-08-2017, 14:19:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>With the knowledge that humans were often slower at coming to terms with such heavy decisions, Conri waited, still crouched; once again a figure of patience.&nbsp; Not once did his weight shift, or a muscle so much as twitch to indicate life.&nbsp; The ancient fae had become unnaturally still as he waited the final answer, and the very wood around them seemed to hold its breath.&nbsp; He didn’t care what the man decided, as there would be plenty of entertainment for him, regardless.&nbsp; Mind games or entrails, it was all the same in the end.&nbsp; Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind a bit of violence to counteract the gentle nature he’d adopted for Liadian’s sake.&nbsp; He had needs, too.<br><br>After a span, the man decided.<br><br>Upon the last word spoken, the air around them became heavier, and there was a shift through the trees that had nothing to do with the wind.&nbsp; The boughs above them creaked ominously, as if they were cackling over some secret only they knew, and the dead leaves slapped together in applause.&nbsp; The atmosphere was oppressive, and could rob the air from lungs if one wasn’t prepared.&nbsp; Conri rose, unaffected by the change, and by the time he was standing at his full height, the weight in the air had dissipated, and the forest quieted.&nbsp; “You have given your word, human, just as your blood has dripped upon my ground, and the forest has been my witness.”&nbsp; As he spoke, the vine around the neck loosened, and fell away to become just as ordinary as it once was.<br><br>“Know this,” he stepped toward him, taking the man by the arm and hauling him to his feet, “the forest has tasted you.&nbsp; If you go against your word, you will be punished.”&nbsp; The vines circling his limbs readjusted so it was only his wrists tied behind his back, enabling him to walk on his own when the time came.&nbsp; Conri eyed his captive once last time, wearing a menacing grin that was wide enough to show his sharp canines, then turned to finally acknowledge his apprentice.<br><br>Clawed fingers traced gently along her jaw before sinking into her hair, and he tilted her head back to gaze into her eyes, his own still the luminous, bright amber that was the after effect of his anger.&nbsp; “The dining table is not the only thing to partake, <em>Asthore,</em>” he bent his head to kiss her, dark hair falling against her neck as he did.&nbsp; He kept it chaste, though the intention behind it wasn’t quite so.&nbsp; She was willing, he could feel it, and it left him wanting as well.&nbsp; Always.&nbsp; It was also an open claim.&nbsp; She was <em>his</em>, and the man would do best to know that.<br><br>“Come,” he instructed, gently pulling away from her and setting a hand on the man’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t bolt… not that he’d get very far.&nbsp; His other hand reached for Liadian in offering should she wish to hold it.&nbsp; “Let us dine together in celebration.”&nbsp; His subsequent laughter was like a caress of velvet against bare flesh, and echoed through the forest in wicked triumph.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>18-09-2017, 18:07:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The jeweled set of amber pools now were careful in their observation and movement. Oh, hubris itself had led the warrior of the One True God to such a place, a marked flaw within his make-up made apparent and crafted into lesson that even now barbed at his soul. As it was in his childhood, it was now, pain came with lesson learned and the scent of copper in the air brought stillness to the chaos of the mind- allowing for a clarity that came only when all was laid to line. The blonde locks that had slipped from braiding danced about his features as Gregor attempted denote and order each interaction, each gaze, each moment of absolute otherworldly stillness from crouching Terror to understand it better and by rights to understand what made the human girl so enraptured with it. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For those longer seconds, indeed his life lay in balance. But every second his soul lay in balance, at least if in truth there was naught more than the believe of those who had raised him. Magic and its use, that was the bastardation and impure use of the gifts like the ones he was able to wield through the God that strengthened him. It was the amber pools that flicked when the sound of wolves once more approached, as Conri rose, the atmosphere as suffocating as the vines, the forest as still as graveyard. But with a word from It, the vine fell as it once was. His body pulled up to booted feet and vines manipulated so that his arms were bound behind his body. Within the light, the flash of canines danced behind the guise of grin. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;More shocking now was the exchange witnessed between the two. Behind him fingers moved in subtle patterns of gesticulation, as much as one could. It was not time for him to speak, but to merely observe. As if he were stunned from what wounds may or may not exist, as if he were taking accounting of the many flaws and errors that had led to this moment in time, as if he were repenting for what he had done to but extend the moments of his life. And yet he missed not the claim laid upon the girl’s flesh in touch and kiss. Nor did he fight that hand which came upon his shoulder to guide him. The talk of celebration and dining that did little to settle the tension in his stomach as jaw clenched and his boots found their path set by It and which served It willingly.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>01-11-2017, 03:55:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>When the air took weight, a power forming as the leaves rustled and the earth itself made a low sound Liadian found herself recalling when she had made her own vow to the ancient one. The weight had been there, and the feeling of the power of the earth itself wrapping around her, but so too had been birdsong and a burst of light, a sense of safety filling her even as their hands had shook in accord. It seemed Conri saw little reason to sweeten the pact struck between he and the stranger, which did appease the more protective side of Liadian's nature that had in the past only surfaced with her younger siblings.<br><br>Would her Lord chuckle to know she, his student, a mortal human, would seek to protect him with all that she was? The redhead's chin lowered a touch, head tilted as she contemplated the&nbsp; notion only to dismiss it for even if he did chuckle it would be affectionately. And then no doubt do some magic that left her reeling and aware of who was the teacher and who was pupil. <br><br>Conri's voice drew her attention back to he and his newest acquisition, watching with compressed lips as he helped the golden haired stranger to his feet with none too kind hands, and vines still circled about his wrists. Was that to appease her, with her distrust? The maiden gave a shrug, realizing regardless she was grateful for him still remaining at least somewhat restrained. <br><br>His attention now on her, his fingers caressing up her jaw and into her hair made the presence of the interloper fade from her thoughts. Those sharp tipped claws could have so easily maimed her, yet she nuzzled into the touch. For when Conri touched her, gazed at her with those knowing eyes, the rest of the world faded. No resistance did she offer when he canted her head back, her green eyes meeting his amber one, and her lips curved into a smile as he hinted at what he might wish to partake of. Her maidenhood was a quality for marriage among her people, yet Liadian had no wish to surrender herself to anything other than his dark mastery. His kiss was gentle, teasing, and in that it was cruel for he knew how hotly her passions burned, knew the depth of what she would offer and yet he resisted, kept them both upon the knives edge of desire.&nbsp; <br><br>"As you wish." Her words were soft, a flush of want prompting a lovely pink to sweep her cheeks as she accepted his hand to walk at his side. When he laughed her breath skipped, for she could feel the power behind it, the teasing slid against her skin, the way it seemed to coil within her and make the embers of desire fan hotter. Distraction, he wished to keep her from worry, yet the lass was not sure she wished to resist his gift, beguiling as it was.<br><br>A glance went to the man who had stalked her here, his hair the hue of dragon's gold and near as long as her own, his figure broader than Conri's, though slightly less imposing, rather more solid. Earthy. There was no denying he was a handsome man, for all his scowling and cursing of her mentor. Was that part of why Conri allowed him to yet live? Liadian leaned closer into Conri, drawing comfort from his nearness and to try and appease the hunger he had woken in her for something that was not the feast that would be awaiting them. The wolves stalked around them, their coats gleaming in the morning sunlight and their movements akin to a dance; could the stranger see the beauty of them, predators as they were, or simply see yet another thing that refused to answer to his God, and thus were unworthy?<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-11-2017, 23:50:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>With Liadian’s hand in his, and his other upon the man’s shoulder, he guided the three of them to the castle in which he dwelled.&nbsp; He manipulated the layout of his woods to shorten the journey, making it less than a half hour walk when it would have otherwise been half a day.&nbsp; The changes were done discreetly, taking place beyond their line of visibility, and gradually, so as not to disturb the wildlife.&nbsp; Paths were redesigned to fit his needs all the time, and he was prudent to keep them ever-changing so none of his enemies could map his territory.&nbsp; If a trespasser ever slipped by undetected, they would find the way to his lair difficult and daunting, if they found it at all.&nbsp; He allowed the mortal man to live, but he was not always so merciful.&nbsp; The information at his disposal was, perhaps, the only thing that interested the fae enough to still his judgment.<br><br>Ahead, a break in the trees hinted at a stony bridge stretching across a moat to the castle awaiting them.&nbsp; The large structure was surrounded on all sides by towering mountains, the tallest of which appeared to have no cap as it disappeared into the clouds.&nbsp; The exterior walls were covered in climbing ivy, and in time the fortress would be consumed by it.&nbsp; “Careful,” he murmured before Gregor could step out onto the bridge, “any misstep or attempt at escape in my moat would certainly be a fate most unfortunate.”&nbsp; A glance down to the still waters could tempt a desperate soul, but the same fool would suffer at the whim of the beasts lurking in those depths.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/ZfjE6pv.jpg)</div>Releasing her hand, Liadian was allowed to get a decent head start while Conri brought up the rear, helping steady Gregor’s balance when needed.&nbsp; Would be a shame to let his newest guest succumb to the hungers of lesser beings, especially when he caught the way his Liadian had looked at him.&nbsp; There was interest in her eye, and curiosity, as she noticed the man’s beauty.&nbsp; He made note of it, revealing nothing of his thoughts, and continued on.<br><br>The doors opened of their own accord as the trio approached, giving a feeling of warm welcome.&nbsp; Just like the inviting arms of a lover, Conri thought, as the castle beckoned her Master home.<br><br>The ivy had penetrated the smallest cracks in the stones, spreading along the walls of the foyer and across the ceiling.&nbsp; Parts had started to crumble without compromising the structure itself, giving the impression that perhaps it was all intentional.&nbsp; Some might consider the look dilapidated and in desperate need for repair, but Conri enjoyed the aesthetic.&nbsp; The flora was just as much a part of him as he was of his realm, and he welcomed the reminder.&nbsp; The only part that the vines didn’t grow was the stone floor, out of respect.<br><br>They were taken to the dining room with its long table covered in an impressive spread of food.&nbsp; Conri reached for Gregor’s wrists and, being careful not to disturb the wounds in his flesh, cut through the vines with his sharp nails.&nbsp; “Behave, and you will enjoy more freedoms.”&nbsp; Turning, his robe billowing, he went to the head of the table and sat.&nbsp; A glass of deep burgundy liquid already waited for him, and he took it in hand, raising it to gesture toward the feast.&nbsp; “Help yourselves.”&nbsp; He then tipped the glass and drained half the contents in a few long swallows.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>26-11-2017, 06:00:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;What could amber eyes do but bear witness to that which transpired before him? Breath came hard into lungs, that steady rise and fall of chest announcing the life that renewed itself with a vigor. Gregor remained silent, the set of lips a thin thing as he rolled one shoulder back, as if the motion might soothe the ache. The scent of blood was fresh to his nostrils still, the air tainted with it, his to bear as it was his own failure spilt out like seed upon the earth. Liadian leaned into Conri as she did and Conri's hand fell upon his shoulder as they set off in stride, the wolves beside them as wild as the one who palm rested upon broad flesh even now. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Castle was something most intriguing and beautiful. There was no denying that, nor could or would he have known the manipulation of the space from where they had been to where they now arrived. It was within the break of trees that the amber eyes bore witness to the towering mountains that reached it seemed to God's realm and the bridge that would carry them across the moat. Indeed, there was an incline of head in gratitude for the warning before his booted feet found the stone to stride upon towards Conri, for the warning. Something about the water teeming below made one wonder what may well rest within to guard the thing who walked beside him now’s home. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Even in this, the man was careful. Blood spilt from his own wounds, the vines that bound biting into flesh, but it was he who unless pushed forward would allow Conri and Liadian to enter, mindful to not mar the woman's clothing by leaving his vitae upon the stone ground. Oh, the feeling received when one entered the castle reeked of magic and mystery, the same sensation one could receive from entering a well consecrated place that was not of one’s own validation or volition. Not his home, not his stone. But the way the door had opened, had there been a hint of a smile that played upon lips? Perhaps. Just as amber eyes seemed to note the state of stone, beautiful in its wild kissed state, that which had been reclaiming parts of what was. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Conri gave his words and the vines were released, that intake of a breath a sharper one, flesh allowed to be freed from the bite of thorns ached at the absence as the air assaulted them. Merely a shadow of discomfort, a flinch of the jaw and a clench of teeth before voice would rumble from throat. <strong>"As you wish."&nbsp; </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But where the words to Conri's statement that more freedoms would come with behavior? Or to the fact that he was told to help himself? One had to wonder, as he turned his head to the feast. Gregor did not sit, nor would he take glass, not until Liadian had taken her place where ever it might be. A quiet motion of the larger man to find place at table where it seemed fitting, not to near, and yet not too far from the ones who now held his vow. Eyes searched along the feast, as if to contemplate who may have prepared such for them or to wonder if like legend and lore that which was eaten may well steal part of one's will to leave. Consideration given, as he leaned back within the chair selected and watched the two of them with a quiet regard.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-11-2017, 22:24:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>Upon her first few years of visiting her mentor and Lord, Conri had dwelt within the very mountains themselves, his liar a dark, secretive place full of wonder. Yet as she has grown and come to him, asking about the castles in books and lore his home had adjusted. It was as if he wanted to give to her every dream, every experience possible, and it was part of why she loved him as she did. Not that she spoke those words aloud, for he was fae and their views on love where different than that of humans, nor did she wish to find such sentiment rejected. So instead she worried for him, adored him and strove to please him. <br><br>Did this stranger read her love in how she looked at Conri, or in how she leaned into his touch? <br><br>Troubled at the notion she kept her silence as they moved through the forest, the castle he called home hinted at in the distance, and then through the trees, part of her yearning to reach what she considered home. Across the bridge she moved, unafraid of the creatures that lurked in the moat, nor those who perched upon the towers and peaks, watching them with sharp eyes and ready claws. When Conri withdrew from her she strode forward boldly with the breeze teasing through her fiery hair, the doors opening just a step before she reached the and the girl instantly sent a thought of warmth and gratitude to the living structure that was Conri's home, her home within her heart. <br><br>Liadian paused before one of the climbing bursts of ivy, humming softly as her fingers brushed against the blossoms at it's base to bring them shimmering to life. When she stepped into the castle she always felt near filled to bursting with magic, and so she gave some of it in return, a silent act of thanks and love. Yet her Lord had mentioned the feast laid out in welcome, so she tarried not, instead leading the way to the room with the same impossible amount of food as ever, teeming with things that over the years they had learned she particularly enjoyed, and always new things as well. The maiden reached first for a ripe strawberry, taking a bite into the fruit even as she watched Conri free their 'guest'; the tart sweetness filled her mouth and she trailed after him, remembering the first time she had tasted one and he had kissed her after. The taste of his dark power all around her, and a hint of his favored drink on his lips, yes that was one of her favorite memories. <br><br>Green eyes warily viewed Gregor, her fingers selecting a plate and then pulling from other dishes her choices for her meal before finally settling very pointedly at her Lord's right hand. The fact that he ate not from the table even as the minutes passed prompted a laugh to spill from her lips that was not wholly kind, <strong>"Your contract with him is already struck; you have no need to fear that which he gives freely without cost."</strong> She lifted a piece of fowl to her lips, eating it neatly as she watched him, wondering how long it would take him to realize there was no escaping the snare he had sprung. The girl's gaze moved to her mentor then, an inquisitive light gleaming in her eyes, <strong>"May we continue the lesson in weather control now that I have returned? I almost had the trick of it I think."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>01-12-2017, 00:11:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>The fae divided his attention among the two once he was settled, eyes shifting between Gregor’s contemplative features and Liadian’s perusing, remaining ever watchful.&nbsp; He was curious what the man would do now that his wrists were unbound and his captor was seated comfortably, not trusting that the man would remain as passive as he seemed.&nbsp; Humans were often impulsive, silly creatures, and refused to accept when they were defeated.&nbsp; All logic would point him toward the only possible conclusion, and yet there was still fight in the man.&nbsp; It could be seen in those coiled muscles and the strain in his jaw; he was not pleased by present company.&nbsp; Should have thought of that before he stalked <em>his</em> Lia into his realm.<br><br>As if prompted, Conri shifted his gaze to his apprentice, allowing the man to sort through his thoughts… so long as they remained <em>only</em> thoughts.<br><br>She filled her plate with the foods he knew she enjoyed and took her place at his right.&nbsp; A strawberry was brought to her lips, and the juice of the ripe fruit peeked at the corner of her mouth; had he trusted his restraint, he would have reached for her and tasted the fruit from her.&nbsp; He had not yet finished reveling in the sight of her, of her nearness, after her absence, and knew that if he dared to take anything beyond a chaste kiss, she would end up spread on the table as his own personal feast.&nbsp; It would likely be more than what Gregor had bargained for as far as his tutelage was concerned.<br><br>Liadian addressed the man, and Conri nodded in agreement, also adding, <strong>“you are free to go with or without, but I assure you it would be a regret not to try the dishes my servants worked hard to prepare.”</strong>&nbsp; He sipped his wine and returned his gaze back to the beauty at his side.&nbsp; <strong>“You have a knack for banishing the clouds; that is the easy part.&nbsp; Now you will need to learn to draw them in, which is twice as difficult.&nbsp; We will start in the morning after you have had decent rest, and we will make sure to pace you correctly.&nbsp; I cannot have you become bone-weary like last time.”</strong>&nbsp; Although he did cherish the memory of holding her in his arms as he carried her to her room.<br><br>Dark eyes dropped to her plate, and he reached over to steal one of her strawberries, needing to taste it for himself.&nbsp; Even if they were grown in his land, they somehow always tasted better after she’d claimed them.&nbsp; So, with an unapologetic smile that could arguably be termed sinful, he tore into the fruit with his subtly pointed fangs.&nbsp; <strong>“Ah, delicious my dear.&nbsp; Wouldn’t you say?”</strong>&nbsp; He popped the rest into his mouth, stem and all, and as he chewed he swiped the back of his hand against his chin to get rid of the juice.<br><br><strong>“We still do not know your name,”</strong> he looked over to Gregor, <strong>“what is it you are called in the mortal realm?&nbsp; Do try not to tempt my ire by lying.”</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>23-12-2017, 23:35:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>There was something unnerving about it all. One thing to face supernatural forces, vile and wicked upon ground one knew as one did one’s own being. Another to be fully wrapped within a reality and place that was not one’s own. And yet what was most unnerving to Gregor was how 'normal' it felt to be in such.&nbsp; That made his heart beat just a bit stronger within the confines of his ribs, just as it made his tongue feel thicker within his mouth and breath come just a bit to quickly to give a facade of being calm. It was not the rust colored stains of dried blood, nor the muck and mire that littered his leathers that gave him pause in manners, nor the company that he was now truthfully vowed to and apart of, like it or not- but that unsettled realization as his eyes watched Liadian and Conri, of how normal it felt in some way. <br><br>Weather control and lessons. He should be filled with repulsion or speculation, should he not? Liadian's words on what was given not needing to be suspect taken to heart though, by the way the man reached out to take wine glass and sip from it. The liquid appeased the burning within throat and that he was grateful for. Amber eyes watched them both, how the food was shared, the very interactions, listened to the words between them as if they would offer some clue or insight that may provide him some insight much needed to appease the complexity of emotions arising within what he saw as a traitorous existence now. <br><br>&nbsp;Of course, it was while he was mid shoving something within the confines of those lips that was a bit more savory that Conri spoke to him directly once more and not about the fact Gregor could leave the table hungry should he wish to, to explore. <br><br>Half choking upon the bit of meat pie within the lips, it was the back of one hand that raised to wipe his lips, smearing the blood stain across the line of his chin as he did so. Wine gripped within his other hand washed away the meat as he coughed slightly giving answer in a way that only a starved warrior could-- managing to sound half strangled still when the rumble came from throat. <br><em><br><strong>"Gregor Donovan, is the name the Priests use for me."</strong></em> It was not lie, he did not consider it his 'name' anymore then a sword would consider it called sword, or a charger would take name as what 'it' was. His name, the name she who spat him into existence had used was lost to him, as was the memory of her arms.<br><br>Truth- they had discussed truths before and it had not ended well for the half man, had it?&nbsp; But still, there was an edge of humor within his voice as he tilted his head to the two across the table. <em><strong>"And what should I call you both. I doubt, witch and Creature would be proper, unless you prefer such?"</strong></em> No, the word used by the creature for the witch had been Asthore, but that seemed more between the two of them, some marker of their intimacy. His words had come with some lighter dance of humor laced within the smartness of them, as the spilled from stained lips. <br><br>Gregor leaned back to his chair, trying to force his heart to a cadence that was more suited to thought itself and not emotion- mistakes were made when emotions clouded the mind, were they not? Tempting as it was to shove another morsel within his mouth, to suckle a bit more wine down the burning confines of his throat, he denied himself that pleasure as he watched the pair, less suspicious and more interested in for the time being. What was done, was done. Now there was naught but to attempt to make sense of it all and find a way out or better yet, through it to a shore he understood. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>25-12-2017, 06:09:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>Maiden though she was, Liadian was far from oblivious about the dark heat in her Lord's gaze as she took that first bite of the berry. Perhaps she had unconsciously reached for the fruit, had wanted the grounding of their mutual attraction when faced with an interloper. So fleeting was the time that she had with him and now to share it with another, the redhead found herself oddly sullen at the notion though when his unfathomable eyes turned to her she happily focused wholly upon him, blossoming from his attention the way a flower might under the warm gaze of the sun. At his mention of luring the clouds to where she wished her lips compressed, for she knew a struggle awaited her; last time it had not been he that drove her until she had nearly fainted but her own drive to show him that she was a worthy pupil. <br><br>It had been a sweet reward to feel his arms around her when she collapsed, weak and trembling. Conri had tended to her, though she doubted he would reward such headstrong behavior a second time. Her mentor allowed her to push herself, test her limits, but when she ignored them on purpose she courted his fury. Once, when she had first come to him, she had done just that and had found his rage terrible as he demanded an accounting of her disrespect to what was <em>his</em>. <br><br>A soft laugh parted her lips when he stole one of the vibrant berries from her plate, an old habit now, her eyes dancing with loving mirth in reply to his smile though there lay heat within them as well at the subtle flash of his fangs. Liadian thought of insisting that she could practice her magic now, after the meal, it was only mid day but an afternoon of study might well be what she needed to be able to excel tomorrow. Slender fingers tore a bit of bread into a piece small enough to easily eat as she thought over the tomes he had given her on her last visit, still waiting for her on her desk in the great library. Perhaps a few hours of reading theory might provide her a reason to leave them to the first lessons the stranger needed to learn. If she had it within herself to leave her Lord's side. <br><br>Her gaze lifted from her contemplations in time to see the stranger's throat work around the food he had just taken, her eyes caught on the blood smeared against his chin. What did Conri see, when he gazed at the man? Was the stranger as appealing to him as she? The questions filled her, yet before someone unknown she gave them no voice as she might have when it was just they two. The golden haired warrior gave his name, Gregor, and spoke of priests, of those who had sent him to harm the one she served. When he called her witch she bristled visibly, blue eyes glittering with the heat of her temper. <strong>"You may address him as my Lord, and I am Liadian, though I confess myself surprised you sought to stalk me without learning even my name. Though why should you, when your judgement was already complete without knowing anything about either myself or our now shared Master."</strong><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>31-12-2017, 14:36:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Conri</strong><br><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>“Gregor Donovan,” Conri repeated curiously, rolling the name on his tongue as if tasting a treat for the first time.&nbsp; There was enough power in there to be compelling should he wish to sway the man for his own pleasure, and knowing that, Conri tucked that bit of morsel inside should he need to use it later.&nbsp; The priests had named him, as he’d said, and there was truth in that statement.&nbsp; While he could use it against Gregor if he wanted, he wouldn’t have absolute dominion over him.&nbsp; That was something found in a true name, the one that a mother gifts to her child upon his birth.&nbsp; That one was the name he wanted, perhaps just enough to go in search of it at a later time.&nbsp; For now, <em>Gregor Donovan</em> would serve a purpose.<br><br>Conri continued to eye him with a mild air of amusement as the question was turned on him.&nbsp; Liadian was the first to speak, and looking back to see the anger on her face brought a rumble of laughter to spill from his lips.&nbsp; “Oh, my dearest Asthore, how sharp you are.&nbsp; Do not let his ignorance spoil the mood, hmm?”&nbsp; He reached to her, glad for the close proximity, and stroked the side of his nail along her cheek.&nbsp; Never did he apply enough pressure to break the skin; it was just enough for her to feel a slight scrape against her softness.&nbsp; A juxtaposition that Conri adored pointing out time and again.&nbsp; A tease, perhaps, of the senses.&nbsp; He also loved seeing the reaction his fangs could produce as well, when he was feeling particularly playful with her.<br><br>“She is very protective of me, you see,” he said to Gregor as he took a piece of beef from his own plate and bit into it, “so I would be careful, if I were you, lest you wish a little witch to bring a storm upon your head.”&nbsp; He finished chewing and reached for Liadian’s hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles with a slow, loving affection that had taken years to build between them.&nbsp; “Or, should I say <em>my</em> little witch?”&nbsp; Smirking, he ran his thumb against the back of her fingers before letting her hand go.<br><br>For now, Conri would enjoy the thought of Gregor calling him <em>my lord</em>, interested as he was to see if he actually would.&nbsp; Whether he did or didn’t wouldn’t change the truth that Conri was, indeed, lord of them both.&nbsp; The man would benefit from accepting that fact and moving on, though the fae was not opposed to teaching him otherwise.&nbsp; No, he had stayed his desires for ages, not wanting to soil Liadian’s body with his greed.&nbsp; A man, however… a priest… would put out those fires just fine.&nbsp; He wondered if Gregor was just as inexperienced as his Liadian when it came to the pleasures of the flesh as he finished his bit of beef.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>21-01-2018, 16:41:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>It was harder to gauge what they expected of him, as if to acquiesce to the new arrangement could come in awed state so quickly that all that he had been beaten to belief upon could fade like carapace to reveal something so new, so quickly. No, the husk that contained him, that was hard won by blood and pain, by countless hours of instruction and training, not to be set aside so quickly. Magic and awe, belief in those things were etched into his bones, as masterful and sweeping, as epic and gorgeous as all of this was, each food that he questioned even now the reality of, each stone set to castle in the state of beautiful death and rebirth that it was could all be trickery. Nothing of substance but within this world, this existence that was not his own. No. He was used to his life not being his own- but never owned by one who sat before him in action that was so human, in the basest of ways. <br><br>The roughness of his voice was smoothed by the intake of wine to those lips of his as he listened to Liadian, the subtle shift of his body within the chair it resided within as he struggled to find some bit of normalcy to cling to in the moments where his mind was wrestling with what had taken place. <strong>"The name you use here may not be the one you used with your mother or father, with whom you have shared secrets but not total truth of this place. One who would lie to their blood of birth, normally does so out of shame of knowing their actions are wrong if there is not mistreatment of the individual at hearth and home. "</strong> He was not accusing merely presenting facts as he saw them. <strong>"If you have taken a name here, then it would be the truthful name, your birth discarded and thus your humanity left behind to be what he requires and wishes of you." </strong><br><br>To Conri's utterance of his name, those amber eyes turned to face the being. <strong>"My Lord?"</strong> As if the name had been spoken to give some order. That came naturally enough in some ways, to answer so quickly to the direction that one might be put to. But the use of Ashtore, made the man lift his gaze to Liadian, as if to say, <em>"See that could have been your new name..."</em> but he spoke not a word out loud in that regard, choosing to take another long drink from his wine, as if that would buy him a small amount of time to comprehend that which was fathomless.<br><br><strong>“Liadian, my Lord’s witch, or Asthore, whichever brings you both amusement, my judgement of you was in violation with the direct orders of the Church that magic should not be brought to the realms of man. That those who control it lay outside the simple rules of man, because older beings cannot be ruled by such lines. The mixing of magic and humanity comes at a cost of pain, the pursuit of power that is not given, means suffering because of those things that hunt within the darkness. Perhaps you have been sheltered, perhaps you have found good within the one you are so protective of. But even he, I am sure, cannot admit to always being so kind and gracious to humans who wander near to him. Innocent blood or blood shed for amusement, the sound of screams, the offering of pain, hunting because of the birth right to hunt, being the predator itself- have you never partaken of such, My Lord? Have all humans been granted what you give Liadian too? If so, then I ask forgiveness for my ‘judgement’ without ‘knowing’ either of you, but if My lord answers that he has never taken another’s blood or pain merely because he felt the right too then surely, he is a special circumstance. If he has, then perhaps you can understand why I would be so quick to judge, considering what I have seen and what you judge me in quite the same way you scold me for judging.” </strong><br><br>The golden haired one set his goblet down, his&nbsp; calloused fingertips reaching for a small berry to place within his lips, breath leaving that body of his as if exhaustion had set in. <strong>"Would it be rude of me to ask where I may bathe? " </strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Thrice Bound (imp, Kei, &amp; Wisti)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>04-02-2018, 00:37:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/c4/99/6f/c4996f9f2ea069dc7a9698fdd48040f9.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Liadian o'Braonán </em></strong></div></div>Oh how she disliked the way her Lord spoke that name, the priest given a weight in reference. The inquisitive side of her teacher was both her boon and her bane, often providing confounding moments in the end and at the moment she wanted to insist the stranger did not deserve to even be called anything save 'servant'. But that was the hot white fury of jealousy, for she was a jealous creature when it came to Conri's attentions and so the redhead tucked the emotion away and instead speared a bit of fowl with her fork to distract herself. It seemed her mood was all too obvious to he who knew her so well, his laughter making her flush with pink sweeping her cheeks, ducking her head almost bashfully. <br><br>Liadian's retreat was forestalled though by the prick of sharp nails, the sensation of that nearly cruel caress as it traversed from her throat to her cheek, a reminder of his wild nature and her fragility before it. Instead of making it fearful though it brought her home, spoke of safety, of belonging, of the fact that she was his treasure, not simply a human to amuse him. Her gaze rose to his, heat and love, worry and zealous need to protect, flashing through her expressive eyes; her pulse raced for him then. <br><br>It was his words that recalled her to their company, but the kiss to her hand kept that touch of pink in her expression even as she shifted slightly closer to him in reply to the heat of his mouth. <strong>"Yours, yes."</strong> Perhaps her longing was too naked, perhaps she should attempt to be stronger; but it made no sense to the young woman. Conri knew her, and he could hear the way her heart raced, taste the scent of her arousal in the air every time he touched her, see the way her body heated when he neared. There was no hiding what he did to her, and so she had long ago abandoned shame for her desire and instead left herself exposed to him in that manner without fear. <br><br>Conri would not harm her, at least... not in ways she did not crave. The prick of his claws, the nip of his fangs, the tight hold of his hands about her. <br><br>At Gregor's reply her gaze moved to him, wary and heated. <strong>"My name is my name, and Conri would have me be only what I am at my base. Perhaps I was never fully human, not to have the dreams I did, not seek him out as I did. He is not the monster you wish to paint, but you deserve none of my story while you cling yet to illusions."</strong> The silent rebuke at Conri calling her Ashtore had her prickling anew, her lips compressing before pulling back into a smile that was not in the least friendly and would have revealed fangs had she possessed them in form of silent aggressive threat. <strong>"Only my Lord may call me Asthore, the word is sullied when uttered by you. And what, because I can touch something more then the mundane I should then abandon my family for it? I was twelve when first the power spoke through me. Life is pain, and to think it not reveals a shocking innocence for a would be assassin."</strong><br><br>Her appetite spoiled the redhead pushed back from the table, gaining her feet though only the fact that both males remained seated allowed her the advantage of height. <strong>"I am both his and my own, I am both his witch and a human girl with family. You are clearly more than human yourself, if you but looked. You would ask a wolf not to hunt, to be in violation of it's own nature? I believe in who I have sworn myself to, for no being is without it's flaws. In searching for perfection you constrict and suffocate your world. Now if you will excuse me I have reading to attend as food would not sit well in so ignorant a dinner companion."</strong> <br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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