Desperate times (Thou and Kurzyk)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Subtle Trouble on 06-11-2008, 03:25:25</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Desperate times (Thou and Kurzyk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>06-11-2008, 03:25:25</strong>
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				Nobody in their right mind could call this a dry spell. Three years since she'd last had sex. Arianna would probably kill them if they tried. A dry spell was a few sexually deprived months. A dry spell was inconsequential. This was the freaking Sahara desert. Three years with not a drip of precipitation.<br><br>Ari, simply put, was far more than tired of it. Bending to the floor of the apartment building's laundry room, in chalk she drew a pentagram, large enough to stand in, before stepping back, and looking around at the candle lit room. Three pairs of Washers and Dryers lined up, across from a folding counter. Sighing, she tossed a handful of peat into the pentagram. Soil. Next an open bottle of water, a smoldering incense, for fire, and her breath for air. <br><br>Stepping back in her penguin socks, she looked around, before consulting the Latin script. Skimming, she muttered, mostly understanding it. Sighing, she swallowed. She'd found this in her work's archives. A museum. It was a script found from a cave in Ireland. Ari had known enough Latin to understand what this was. A spell for a demon. A certain kind of demon. An Irish witch had summoned this demon occasionally at... some cost. She couldn't make out that part. Except 'life' was mentioned. She presumed that it meant her blood. Blood was called for, after all.<br><br>The twenty year old woman sighed, before picking up the skein duhb from on the washer, and laying the blade across her hand. She was... happy. Tipsy. The alcohol gave her confidence. She would never try this when sober. Green eyes stared at the blade, before, her pretty face scrunching up with effort, she swiped the knife back, cutting along a crease on her hand.<br><br>The knife dropped as she grabbed her wrist, gasping from the pain, before she curled her hand into a fist, squeezing. Walking around the pentagram, she began chanting, three drops of blood at each point, careful to step betwen the points.Finished, she stepped back, and wrapped her injured hand in a bandage, continuing her Latin chant, a low Gregorian type, pleading with hell to send her an Incubus, to relieve her lust, to Satisfy her 'evil' needs. <br><br>She must have looked ridiculous, a grown woman, black hair falling to her mid back, tanned skin, heritage from her Apache Father, green eyes from her Irish Mother, Average in almost every other way. Her blue Grumpy t-shirt and well worn jeans as dressed as she would be getting. It was a one night stand with a fucking demon, why dress up. She was quite comfy in the soft denim and cotton T.<br><br>Nothing was happening. A great gust of air escaped her lungs, and she looked at the wrapped hand. "The hell were you thinking, Ari?"<br><br>Shaking her head, she retrieved the broom, and flicked the lights on. Wincing as the fluorescent rods buzzed on, she squinted, blowing the candles out, and cleaning up her mess. Bringing her things back up to her seventh floor apartment, Tossing her things onto her never used table, she grabbed the Jack Daniels, swallowing a few mouthfuls, before shuffling into her room and falling onto the unmade queen bed.<br><br>Shucking her clothes, she crawled under the soft covers and pulled a pillow over her eyes, sighing before her eyes closed. It was 1:30 AM. Time enough to sleep before class tomorrow.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Desperate times (Thou and Kurzyk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kurzyk</strong> on <strong>06-11-2008, 23:04:31</strong>
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				<em>Eyes in the dark</em>. Deep within the shadows of another fold in space and time a being awoke. Its eyes flashed bright crimson and from the darkness it slowly wove through the spirals of worlds, collapsing within themselves possibilities of thought. From the dreams of avarice to the screams of lust it searched for the one who awakened it. Distant lands appeared then faded, cities passed before it, then melted away. And as it crept through the veils of the worlds, its hunger grew. He would have whoever summoned him, whoever she may be. <br><br>He twisted to the right. His long thin shadow slithered like a snake through the worlds. He could taste it and was close now. As the hazy images spun past him in a kaleidoscope of colors, faces and things, a room unfolded before him. Its floor and walls slowly transformed from a grayish energy to a harder substance. He stretched through the veil and stepped inside.<br><br>The clock ticked on the wall of the laundry room. The air was thick as the smell of detergent hung in the air. A small black spot appeared in the center of the room and slowly expanded in an oval shape. A thin shadow slipped through and hung in the air. Its head turned down and settled around the drops of blood on the floor. <br><br>Something was wrong. He swirled around the blood as if examining it in increasing agitation. His eyes flashed a sharp red as a claw reached out from the shadow and touched the blood. Foolish mortal, he thought. He quickly turned to the dark portal from whence he had come. It was closed. In a fit of rage the shadow grew in immense size and stretched vertically to form the dark silhouette of a being with wings. Its head tilted up, and with its arms raised it let out a piercing and deep roar. She had used the wrong blood. Her spell now trapped and bound him to her. Furious for this enslavement he knew what he had to do and now sensed her in the building.<br><br><em>Yes... She is close now...</em><br><br>Melting into the shadows of the corners of the room, it crept into the hallway and made its way under the cracks of the door leading up into the building. When it reached the seventh floor it stopped and was still in the corner of the hall. <em>Where is she...</em> He longed to taste her, to consume her... <br><br>His sight flashed and honed on the scent. He saw her in the room a few doors down. He would enslave her passion, and entice her ecstasy to heights of pleasure she could not imagine. She was his now. He passed through the door and into the room where she slept. <br><br><em>Ahh... there she is...</em><br><br>He slowly slithered to the bed. When he reached her his form took a tall humanoid shape. He was completely black with tints of emerald along his muscular chest.&nbsp; As he slowly walked toward her his claw passed over her body a few feet above. It caressed her energy as she slept, calling to her... He could feel the warmth of her body as his claw moved above her thigh then over the area between her legs. An intoxicated grin crossed his face as he moved to her lips as she slept. He gently touched her cheek and leaned close to taste her lips. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Desperate times (Thou and Kurzyk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>07-11-2008, 01:07:46</strong>
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				Ari sighed, turning in her sleep, her conscious deep within the folds of sleep, as she breathed steadily, half curled on her side, one hand stretched out across her bed, legs scissored out, and the blanket barely concealing her nude torso. Her long hair fanned out across her bed, from her turning. Her expression was one of content peace, cheeks relaxed, full lips smoothed out.Her long eyelashes splayed across her cheeks like small fans.<br><br>She was dreaming, if the quirk to her lips was any indication. A nice one, a good one. She was loved. Momma and Daddy were there. Harold, too. Before....<br><br>Sleepily, her hand curled, and lay across her stomach. Where the long 'J' shaped scar started just below her sternum, looped beneath her belly, curled up, past her belly button. The white tissue stood out against her tanned skin, but lay smooth. In her dream they were all there. Holding her, laughing at a joke Warm, at a cabin, in chunky knitted sweaters from her Mother, with a roaring fire in a fireplace across the room, Three pine trees decorating the corners. Mittens hanging out of her sweater. <br><br>Vermont, the ski trip.....<br><br>It disappeared, well, Momma and Daddy did. She lay with Harold in a long, fur rug. His hand caressed up, over her leg, brushing over her crotch. She moaned softly, turning to her back, splayed, her grin growing, saucier, more teasing. Her chin tipped up, at the concrete touch to her cheek, and in the dream, Harold pressed his lips to hers. <br><br>A desperate moan escaped her chest, and her hands slid up, to cradle whoever was kissing her's head. The lips felt wonderful against hers, firm, soft. Hr lips opened beneath his, as she pulled out of her dream. Her hands dropped as her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped, pushing whatever was in the darkness away, rolling across to the far side of the bed, and feeling for a weapon. "What- Who the HELL are you?" She demanded, hand closing over a snow globe on her bedside tale.
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