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Post by Lyra Ishigami on Sept 23, 2013 16:12:27 GMT -5
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sex: female | sexual orientation: Girls, guys, cats and dogs? | race: Arrancar ALIASES:"That crazy bish." AGE:She just turned 26 for the 2171st time AGE OF APPEARANCE:late teen - early twenties NUMBER:1 ASPECT OF DEATH:Destruction RANK:espada. BASE FORM:Adjuchas?
Mirror, mirror on the wall... FACE CLAIM: Yomi Isayama — Ga-Rei
HEIGHT:162cm
WEIGHT:It is never okay to ask a woman her weight.
APPEARANCE:Slender, legs covered with thin dark thigh highs support the woman's body. A bit on the light side of athletic, one would be safe to assume she's no more than 60 kilogrammes. For bottoms, she rarely is ever seen in anything but a plain black skirt, hollows don't feel cold, do they? The edge ends slightly above her stockings, never more or less: just a sliver of exposed skin. Tease. Her torso is covered with a matching, open collared blouse with top buttons undone, allowing us a peek at her delicate neckline. The cuffs of her shirt is left turned over, leaving a lining of white to offset the heavy dark tones of the rest of her outfit.
The plethora of darkness is done to offset her rather light complexion. Not exactly pale, but she's pretty close to it, her skin being an untainted, milky white. All her features are rather delicate, not typical of a hollow (don't judge a book by its cover!) To the untrained eye, she's probably not very distinguishable from an average college student, save for the giant katana she carries around with her of course. There are no notable scars or imperfection on her skin — partly because of the powers granted to her as a hollow. She is pretty much perfect in every way.
Not quite thin, not quite full, her pursed lips are naturally a pale amethyst, lacking the glow of life they held once upon a time, a long long time ago. Matching them are a pair of eyes with irises the same shade of purple. They seem to glisten slightly in the correct lighting, showing some cat-like pupils to those lucky ones who get close enough to see them without losing their heads. Protecting those amethyst spheres are her rather flamboyant eyelashes, full and dark, enough to give any mascara a run for their money. The tips of her lengthy lashes just barely brush against her onyx coloured bangs. Her deep dark hair flows uninterrupted down to well past her lower back, ending only inches below her waistline. A split end? Never heard of it. Though it seems that even hollow are affected by the perils of age, as she had began noticing odd strands of white within the waterfall of onyx — this, of course, annoys her to no end. Oh, and lets not forget, hidden within her thick head of hair are the remnants of her hollow mask. On the nape of her neck, the fang-like piece sits, out of sight and out of mind. As for her hollow hole: well, for someone as heartless as she is, where else would it be but her chest? Just below her left breast, exactly where her heart would be.
...I'm the prettiest of them all! LIKES: - Being on top - Ice cream, sweets, cake, POCKY - Torture, pain, torment - Threesomes?
DISLIKES: - Being on the bottom - Everything! People, humans, THE WORLD (in an non-emo way?) - Boring things
NEGATIVE TRAITS: - She hates everything? She hates everything about the world and vows to destroy it - She has a hard time letting people close to her, and through various methods tends to push people away - She's a sadistic bish
POSITIVE TRAITS: - Totally self reliant, having no innate need to band together or affiliate with others of her kind - Though she plays it off, she's actually quite cunning. Her mind is always plotting away - She's a sadistic bish
EXTRAS:*cough*sadistic*cough*bish*cough*
WEAPONS:
ZANPAKUTO:name: Muramasa.
sealed form:Akin to a ceremonial katana in the way it's designed, with only a very small guard compared to that of one meant for battle. The scabbard is almost completely royal purple with a streak of vermilion on the back edge. A sash of the same colour is tied around the opening of the scabbard as a decoration, it hangs freely and has length of about a third of the sheath.
The blade, about 120cm from tip to guard, is completely black save some pigments of amethyst which glistens as the blade is swung, creating stunning afterimages of black and purple. The guard serves more of a decorative purpose than anything practical, as it hardly cover's the hand, merely protruding an inch outward from the base of the blade. The shape is square and coloured to match the scabbard, blending itself quite nicely when not drawn.
The hilt of the weapon is wrapped in the same coloured cloth as the scabbard, interweaving streaks of vermilion (keeping with the theme) scattering between the deep purple. Unlike ordinary katana, the hilt of her weapon extends longer than most, providing better aesthetics. At the end of the handle is attached a tassel made of the fur of a long extinct white fox.
RESURRECCION:release command:
description: The form of her hollow is a rather large wolf like creature, with nine tails. The creature's fur is completely black, with the tip of each tail being white. Her ferocious teeth are augmented by her increased speed and strength, not to mention claws which can pierce the thickest hides. This "true" form of her release, where she allows her resurreccion to take over, changing her form completely to that of the wolf. Here, she gains the agility of the wild animal in exchange for the ability to make precise strikes and deter close ranged attacks. In this form, she's reliant on the pure power of her claws and jaws, able to crush even the thickest of armors. Concealed within each of her numerous tails is a thin katana, resembling her sealed blade, she's able to wield each of them, with the dexterity she has in her human form. She must be in this form to perform certain ceros.
type: Utility/augment.
stat upgrades: HAN:+4 REI:+2 HAK: SEI: BUK: HOH:+2 Total points:106+8
techniques: Not enough room... v_v
SEGUNDA ETAPA:
description: .
type:
stat upgrades: .
techniques:
I don't ask for much, just the world HISTORY:Do you believe in fate?
The development of events outside any person's control. Destined, inescapable inevitable, those who choose not to believe are merely scared to see the truth, afraid to admit to the monster which hides in their closet. Those who claim to break the bonds are merely covering their eyes to the truth: nothing escapes the chains of fate. Though, fate can work in some people's favor, granting them fame and riches, while at other times doom them to plague and suffering — a cruel mistress. She sinks her claws into all creation and refuses to let go until their ends are met. The dark abyss, which envelopes all existence, governing the lives of all living creatures, that is the truth, and none knows this better than Lyra.
Her father stared down at the new born child with disappointed eyes. What was supposed to be a moment of great joy was instead replaced with a room of silent doctors and nurses. Of course, there was her father too. He stared at the child, was this fate? He remained silent as the child's cries filled the room. The silent nurses took the child away from him as he remained by her wife's side. There was blood everywhere. The once pristine white sterile sheets used to cover the woman as she delivered was now a crimson mess; the woman herself was in no better shape. Barely able to breathe, her chest expanded and then collapsed as fast as she could, trying to pull in as much air as she could with her exhausted muscles. Her forehead covered with sweat, now cold from being exposed to the crisp morning air. She reached for her husband's hand and weakly dragged it to her cheek, resting her clammy skin on his palm. The man's hand was trembling. "Please love her..." She was much too weak to finish her sentence without pause, "for the both of us."
Countless physicians were consulted when she was conceived, and all gave the same answer: no chance of survival. Despite all the consultations, her mother would always give him the same smile, the one that ensured him everything was going to be okay. The head of the family needed to be strong, but in order for him to appear that way, he needed someone even stronger to lean on: his lovely wife. He couldn't bare the thought of losing her, and on countless times had begged her to reconsider having this child. Unfortunately, he was destined to lose her, and once it had been decided, there was little anybody could do but wait. Their daughter's conception had always been a dream of her mother's, she had such hopes for the girl, but it had long been decided that she would never bare witness to any of her daughter's accomplishments. The development of the foetus had a significant impact on her internal organs, disrupting their function, and interrupting her natural rhythm. Although she felted it worse and worse as the days past, she managed to put on a strong exterior for her beloved. The exact amount of suffering she had endured wasn't appreciated until the coroners examined her. "It must have been difficult for her to even eat." But for the sake of the baby, the woman never missed a single meal.
The day his daughter was born was the day he lost his pillar, his anchor; the one who kept him grounded. The only things keeping him from drifting away were her dying words: "Love her, for the both of us." How was he supposed to love their daughter when all the love he held in his heart was taken the moment she drew her last breath? For the longest time, he made no public appearance, refusing to leave his home. It was well over a year before he had the resolve to face his daughter. It was particularly difficult for him to accept his daughter, as she was not only the cause of his beloved's death, but it meant the end of his legacy. How was a woman supposed to carry his name and their family's legacy: the existence of Lyra meant that his would no longer be the main family, and that the leadership of the Ishigami name would soon be passed to one of the corrupt branch families.
Their clan, since ancient times has had ties with the spiritual world, possessing the gift of spiritual sight. Throughout the centuries, they've come to be established priests and priestesses, residing in temples, aiding those who've suffered recent losses in their family a way to reconcile with the deceased. Though their activity had been on watch for some time, it wasn't until her grand father became head that they established an official agreement with the shinigami, agreeing to aid them in their quest to maintain balance. However, the relationship established between humans and shinigami were not all viewed in the same light. Members of the branch family opposed the collaboration: aligning themselves meant taking on the same enemies as well, and some members preferred their neutral standing, not wanting to bring any unnecessary violence. Though it was evident the pros far outweigh the cons in this union, those who opposed the coming together of humans and shinigami were adamant about their stance, disguising their want for personal gain. Why should they align and sacrifice themselves for the ones living above them in Soul Society, while they could just as easily (if not easier) continue their current duties, making a fortune from dowries?
Knowing the importance of a strong leader, her mother did her best to keep her father a brilliant leader, with her loss and his disappearance, the clan was thrown into chaos, the distant feelings began to emerge bit by bit, and eventually tore the once unified Ishigami clan into several different factions. By the time her father had gathered the strength to resurface, the once prominent clan was a mere shadow of its former self. He wasn't going to let what his father built go to waste. "Love her for the both of us." This was the only way he knew how to love, but providing his offspring with a family, letting her know that she is a part of something extraordinary. Of course, the only thing she wanted was a father's love — a sentiment he had lost long ago.
In order to restore their former glory, he needed strength, it wasn't something he could have accomplished himself. Having lost all connections, the man worked with what he had: a daughter. Their training was tough, but there is no better motivation than the approval of one's parent. It wasn't hard, even for the young girl, to sense that her father's apprehension towards her. It wasn't his fault, and she would later stop blaming him for it, but nevertheless, it was always evident that her father was indescribably distant towards her. This only served as a catalyst to her training, striving to make her father proud. By age 9 she had already mastered most of the advanced techniques of Aikido and Kenpo, and by age 12, she was right there by her father's side, performing exorcisms and warding off demons. As they crusaded through Japan, the old clan slowly began to incorporate themselves once again, under the leadership of her father. She was 18 when her father had finally accomplished his goal. The Ishigami family had finally regained the glory they had once held.
Now that things were finally looking her way, she could begin living a normal life, right? With her father's love and care, a normal girl. But if she were to get her way, we'd be left with no story to tell.
It was around this time that the appearances of hollows in world of the living began to increase. As per their agreement, those affiliated with the Ishigami clan were to do their part in keeping the world safe from the beast. Her father, now feeling the effects of his age was just about ready to pass his duties on to his daughter.
The idea of fate is cruel, isn't it?
He stepped into his study and came out shortly after with his prized sword. "It's name is Muramasa." He handed her the weapon. It was about the billionth time she'd seen the instrument of destruction, but as with every sighting, she is taken aback by its craftsmanship. The scabbard perfectly decorated, fitting seamlessly with the rest of the weapon, with the gap barely noticeable. The flattering curves, as if the metal was once a liquid, solidifying with the natural motion of the user's swing. Her father withdrew the weapon, exposing a foot of the pitch black blade; it glowed its amethyst light, engulfing the room with an ethereal light.
"Father?" She hadn't the slightest clue what was going on, this was the first time he'd ever called her into his study.
The man glanced at the weapon and then pushed it back into its confines. With care, he moved the beautifully adorned weapon toward the girl, placing it in front of her chest. "I'm getting a little warn out from all this work..." He sighed a tired sigh, glancing at the weapon placed in front of his daughter. If he was able to, he would tell his daughter to drop all of this and distance herself as far away from the clan as possible, but as an Ishigami, he knew better than to go against fate. It had already been written that his daughter will one day take his place, and set in stone that her daughter would gladly accept this offer.
"What about you?" She reluctantly took the blade off his hands, taking a moment to appreciate its finer details.
"Don't you think I'm a bit too old for this?" He managed a smile, "There is political unrest within the clan, perhaps I'll try my hand at that."
That was probably the first time she had witnessed him genuinely smile at her, there was an inexplicable warmth welling in her heart, wanting to explode out of her. She did her best to suppress the feeling, not wanting to show such strong emotions in front of him. The girl bowed to show her appreciation to not only her father, but her sensei, then hurried off to her next assignment.
When was it that they first met? It was such a long time ago, she could no longer recall her face.
The rain poured heavily as the priestess stood beneath the giant tree, barely providing her with any protection. Her katana was drawn and at her side. The water had dripped from her shoulder, down her arms, weaving their way through her fingers, and finally touching the cold metal, mixing with the remaining crimson liquid which had covered her weapon — blood? It was certainly not her own, other than the rain water, she was untouched. No, this blood didn't belong to any human. The girl's gaze fell to the creature which laid but a few feet away from her. It wasn't lying there intentionally, oh no, Lyra had just recently put the creature out of its misery. A noise?
She quickly directed her attention to an adjoining wall, pointing the tip of her katana at where the wall had ended in a corner. "Who's there?" She demanded, tightening her grip on the weapon, digging her back foot into the ground, ready to pounce on what ever was waiting for her.
"N...no!" The voice called out. Lyra immediately dropped her guard. The voice couldn't have belonged to a hollow, it was too sincere, too innocent. Her tense muscles relaxed, dropping the point Muramasa back toward the ground. Slowly and without any sudden movements, she headed toward the source of the voice: she wanted to make it perfectly clear she had no intentions of hurting what ever was behind that corner.
Slowly, her hand reached out, palm facing the sky, gesturing for the other's hand. "Come on, you'll catch a cold in this rain." her voice was soft, not at all seeming like it belonged to somebody who had just felled the now disappearing beast merely moments ago. The hand which greeted hers was cold and clammy and shivering, but at the same time, she could feel the softness of her skin. She had finally gotten a glimpse at the one hiding: a girl, perhaps a few years her junior, with long, wavy brunette hair. Lyra quickly heaved the girl out of the cold and the both of them ran back under the tree for shelter.
The girl was at a loss for words — though, after witnessing what she had been through, who wouldn't be? From her perspective, some invisible, earth shattering force ran through her residence, falling trees, and leaving a trail of destruction. As if possessed, both her parents were forced up into the air. Before her mind could comprehend what was happening before her eyes, what used to be her parents were replaced with a mist of blood; their bodies so mangled, she was unable to tell them apart. Immediately, fear gripped her, her knees suddenly buckling under the pressure of her torso. She collapsed in front what remained of her father, trying to scream at the top of her lungs. Silence. Only air escaped her mouth, there was no audible noise whatsoever. She sat there, shivering, awaiting her fate.
Lyra was informed of a nearby hollow, and as per her duties followed the spiritual trail it left. By the time she had reached the creature, it had already begun its attack on the civilians within the residence. Seeing the mist of blood coming from the creature's mouth, she had already prepared for the worst. With one strong push, she launched herself, sword first at its back, aiming to cut the nape of its neck. She felt the metal dig into the flesh, and slice out as if it were cutting through nothing: smooth as silk. Her second strike involved turning the blade slightly, and with the remainder of her downward momentum, she swung, cleaving the creature in half. After disposing the creature, she quickly found shelter, providing her some cover from the downpour.
"I'm Lyra Ishigami, what's your name?" She said, in a soft voice. She could empathize with the girl, losing loved ones like that, to something she couldn't even see, must have been difficult beyond words. Perhaps it was the girl steadily losing her body heat, or perhaps it was because she genuinely felt for her, Lyra slowly moved her arms around her new found friend, wrapping with her own warmth. She could feel the girl shivering in her chest, but that only made her hug tighter.
"Shiori," The girl managed, muffled by Lyra's shirt, and in between sniffles, "Shiori Kusanagi."
"I lost my mother too," She whispered, still holding the girl tightly, "Don't worry, I'll take you home." She wasn't sure what it was about this girl, but she seemed to feel an instant attachment to her. Perhaps she was also lonely, and merely wanted someone who could truly understand the way she felt. Was that cruel? The two of them headed back to the temple soon after the rain subsided.
It wasn't until about a week after her father finally noticed Shiori: the man's busy schedule kept him away most of the time. He had no objections to the girl living with them, he could some what understand Lyra's desire for a companion — besides, it was nice having someone who was normal living with them, of course, the fact that she was an amazing cook didn't hurt either. Although it wasn't anything drastic, Lyra could feel the warmth welling up within her: this was probably as close to a real family as she would ever get, it felt, cozy. How long was it going to last?
"Shio, what's for dinner?" She had just finished her last assignment for the day. Calling out from the front door, propping her katana on the wall before hurrying out to the kitchen.
"Steamed eggplants with meat sauce," The girl was currently slicing the purple vegetable, stuffing the middle with sauce, "Wanna help?"
Lyra's smile quickly turned into a frown, "I hate eggplants!" She quickly peeked over the girl's shoulder to confirm her worst fears. Why did it have to be that?! She'd rather stave. Speaking of, as she thought about how much she loathed eggplants, her stomach growled, just loud enough for Shiori to hear.
"I know." The evilest of grins surfaced ever so slightly on her lips. "Maybe when you decide to cook, you can decide on what we eat?" She fully knows that Lyra could barely boil water. "Besides, eggplant is good for you."
"Hmmm...." What would be an appropriate form of punishment for such a heinous crime? The corners of her pursed lips quickly rose up into a devilish smirk. "You know you'll have to be punished for this, don't you?" She was in perfect position to strike, the girl had her back turned, this was too perfect! With her fingers extended like claws, she quickly reached for her hips, at both sides. Her hands crawled up the girl's sides, while digging her fingers into her, wiggling back and forth.
The girl instantly froze up, dropping what she was doing. She tried reaching to stop Lyra but her reactions were no match. "S... stop!" She couldn't help but giggle, the feeling of her fingers digging at her sides through her ribs was too much. She squirmed and struggled, but Lyra's grip was just too strong. Finally, knees weak from laughter, she dropped down to the ground, collapsing backward onto her senior. "Lyra!" She wasn't able to form sentences between her laughter, the girl was only able to wiggle her body to and fro, trying to shake her assailant off. "Ahhhh..."
She couldn't help but laugh as well, this punishment is fun. Her left arm wrapped around the girl in an attempt to stop her movements, while her right hand continued to dig at her side. "Promise you won't ever make eggplant again!"
"N...no!" Shiori tried desperately to stop her, but failed.
"Then I won't stop." Her legs wrapped around the girl's stopping her lower body from making any more movements. Her right hand shifted to the centre of the girl's body, moving up her stomach, continuing the digging motion upwards toward her chest. "If you don't promise me soon..." Her hand slowly crawled up to her lower chest.
"Okay, okay!"
"Okay what?"
"I promise to never make eggplant ever again!" Her breathing was scattered, trying to catch as much air as possible between her laughter.
"Good." Lyra finally loosed her grip on the girl, allowing her to roll free. "Remember that promise!" She placed a hand on Shiori's cheeks and brought her lips close to hers, planting a big kiss on the left side of the girl's face. "That's a good girl!" She picked herself up off the ground, dusted off her clothing, and headed to the bath.
The room was filled with steam coming from the nearby springs. One of the only good things about living in the mountains, hot springs! She quickly undressed and placed her neatly folded clothes on one a nearby stool. Her own private hot spring, couldn't get much better than this. The walk outside was slightly breezy, but once she slipped into the warm waters, her exhaustion seemed to dissolve. She cupped her hands, splashing fistfuls of warm water onto her shoulder and back, washing off the dirt she had accumulated in a day's work. Lyra closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of the water to wash away all of her thoughts. Suddenly, her nose caught something foul.
She took a long sniff and... eggplant?! Her eyes shot open only to be greeted by Shiori, standing in the water in front of her with a plate of her stupid steamed veggies, with a piece of her least favorite food in the world, on chopsticks, right under her nose.
"Payback!" The girl forced the gross looking mess into Lyra's mouth. The still hot eggplant forced her lips to part in an attempt to avoid the heat, leaving he wide open for an attack! The burning sensation in her mouth was only worsened by the taste. Disgusting!
"Ooh, yool hey hor yat!" ("Oh, you'll pay for that"). She reached out and pulled the girl close, forcing her to drop the dish and chopsticks in the nearby water. Without hesitation, she planted her lips onto Shiori's forcing the girl's lips open with her tongue. As soon as her lips parted, she pushed further, shoving the disgusting piece of eggplant down the girl's throat, she she loved eggplant so much.
Her heart beat increased slightly. There was an indescribable feeling from the bottom of her heart, it was strong enough to disallow Lyra to pull back. No, instead her tongue danced around inside the girl's mouth, searching for something. It was greeted a slippery warmth, brushing back against hers. For a while the girls stood, lips locked, tongues dancing their warm, slimy waltz. She could hear Shiori swallow hard, not understanding exactly what was going on, but at the same time not pulling back. Perhaps what Lyra wanted wasn't Shiori, but the idea of her? The notion of being free from the bounds of her duty, the idea of not having anybody to answer to. Someone who was normal.
It was Lyra who first pulled back. It was much too quick, but anything short of an eternity would be. "Shiori," This was the first the she had been nervous. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks, giving them a nice rouge. "Do you like me?"
She didn't answer initially. Then, out of nowhere, she leaped forward, wrapping her arms around Lyra, "Of course, silly."There wasn't many times she had felt more mature than Lyra, but this was one of them. Unlike her, Shiori had experienced love before, and understands exactly what this was.
Lyra didn't like the feeling of inferiority, but there was nothing she could have done. Years of hollow fighting experience couldn't have prepared her for this. She was flushed. "Then never make eggplant again!" Her knees bent, bringing the both of the under.
I choose to defy fate.
It came as much of a shock to her as it must have for the rest of the clans.
"Lyra, I want you to be my successor. Will you take over the head of the Ishigami clan?'
She stared at his question, uncertain what he was asking. Wasn't there a queue for these kinds of things? Didn't people kill to get such a position? Why would he ask her? She was not qualified, nor was she ready for the responsibility. Also, wasn't the head usually male? What were the opinions of the other leaders?
"I've given it quite some thought," He seemed to have noticed her silence and understood her concerns, "You're the only one I can entrust the future of our clan to." He continued, moving across the room with hands held tightly behind his back. "You're an outstanding example of what our family represents, an outstanding swordsman, and master of martial arts. There's nothing that would make me prouder than to see you be the head priestess of the clan."
"Nothing would make me prouder"? Wasn't that something she had always wanted to hear from him? She never thought it would be like this, but who was she to say no to him? She had always wanted his approval, and here, he was giving it to her. "T...thank you, father." She wasn't sure what else to say. "I humbly accept!" Lyra quickly dropped to her knees, bowing to show respect.
"Wonderful!" He exclaimed. "There's somebody I'd like you to meet." He slowly opened the door to reveal a rather handsome male. He had to be in his late twenties, slightly older than Lyra. His hair was dark and well kept. She had seen him before, on the battlefield — he too was an 'exorcist' like herself, protecting those without spiritual power form hollow. But what was he doing here? She looked up, directly into his emerald green eyes, as if asking him what the purpose of his visit was: to lecture on her technique?
"Hello, Lyra." His voice was deep, yet comforting. "You look lovely this evening." He slowly stepped toward her. There was something she didn't quite like about him, as if his aura was suffocating her. She wanted to reach for her katana and slash at him to stop his advance, but she knew better than to do so. "I'm Kyo Yagami..." He extended his hand to her, waiting for her's. She reluctantly placed her hand in his, knowing any other action would have displeased his father. She wasn't quite fully standing yet when he continued, "...Your husband." Her knees felt weak, her body felt like collapsing under the pressure of those words
What does he mean by that?!
"Aren't you glad, Lyra?" Her father interrupted before she could get in a word of her own.
No, I absolutely am not glad. Why in the world would I be? Who is this fuck? Where's Shiori?! Shiori..... At this time, all she could think of was her: what would she think? Does she already know?
"She's so thrilled she's speechless." Kyo quickly covered for her.
Fuck off. She wanted to gouge his pretty little eyes out, but was restricted to only nod and put up a fake smile.
"Well, we really must get going, but I do look forward to our wedding at the next meeting." He dropped to one knee and kissed the back of her hand. "Until then, farewell princess."
I'm gonna fucking kill him. She glared at him like an angry dog defending her home from a strange invader. "Father, I don't think this marriage is a good idea, I mean, I don't even know him." She burst out as soon as he left their front gate.
"Nonsense, dear. You will marry him, and that's the end of it. It'll bring our clansmen closer together, seeing you two, the best that the Ishigami and Yagami families has to offer, in the holy union of marriage will bring in a new age of prosperity and power."
"But, I love Shio...." She felt flush saying those words. She had been feeling this way for a long time, but never thought the first time she would be saying it was in front of her father. Before she could continue, she felt his cold, stern hand across her cheek, turning the left side of her face bright red. The loud slap echoed through the empty courtyard.
"What are you saying? Shiori is a woman like yourself. You will never feel the same kind of love for her as you will for a man."
But I do. She clutched her cheek. This was the first time he had ever slapped her. "I love her." Another loud slap, this time on the other side. She stood, staring at the ground in front of her feet.
"You're going to marry Kyo and forget about Shiori." The tone of his voice was quite clear: this had been decided for her long ago, and has since been set in stone.
Her only thoughts then were of Shiori, she longed for her soft embrace. She pushed her way through her door and pounced on the girl, whom was already laying in bed. Lyra's tears began flowing as soon as she felt Shiori's warmth. "I love you." She cried into her chest, holding the girl as tight as she possibly could. "I love you!"
At a loss for words, she did nothing but pat the back of Lyra's head, weaving her fingers through the girl's silky hair. Though she was the younger one, she has to once more take on the mature role. Bringing her hands around Lyra's cheeks, she gently lifted the girl's lips up to her own. Slowly, they touched, and then shared a deep, warm kiss. "I love you too, Lyra."
It was at this point she could no longer withstand her longing for the brunette. Her hands slid up and under the girl's night gown, moving it up and over her head, tossing the thin garment to the side. She then quickly undressed herself, managing a couple more deep kisses in between getting rid of each piece of clothing. Their exposed bodies were entangled in unfathomable ways — neither would be getting any shut-eye that night.
They laid silently afterwards, gazing into each other's eyes, thousands of words were exchanged, but not a sound was made. This was love, regardless of what anybody says, Lyra and Shiori were in love. You'll be by my side for ever and always? She said, without opening her mouth.
Forever and always.
Fate always gets her way.
She stood silently. Despite how mangled corpse was, she knew it was Shiori. Above the pool of blood laid at least nine slain hollow. The one who'd put them to rest was none other than her husband to be. The girl sat without speaking a word, staining her clothing Shio's blood. What happened to 'forever and always'?! She stared at her cold, motionless body. Since when did hollow appear in such numbers? And for what? A spiritually unaware girl? She couldn't understand why this was happening to her. Was this fate's doing?! Were she and Shiori never fated to be together? Bullshit. Lyra brought her cold, dead body close to hers, as if trying to share with it her warmth in the hopes that by some miraculous feat, her dead love would be resurrected. No such luck. Her gaze moved up and down the girl's body, scanning the wound which took her life. Running her hands along the body, searching for the scars. It wasn't until she had reached the stomach that she found something rather strange: the majority of the wounds were directed toward her stomach.
Lyra rummaged through her exposed intestines, searching desperately for some sort of closure. As her hands defiled her dead love's corpse, the blood splattered upwards, drips landing on her clothes, hair, and face. Her body was shaking ferociously, but she continued rummaging, hoping to find something, anything. Had she turned completely mad? She dug through her innards rummaging through the blood, producing all sorts of indescribable noises, then, on the verge of breakdown, her fingers found a foreign object. She pulled the pill shaped object loose from the pile of entrails, cupping it within her hands. She knew exactly what this was. She didn't want to believe it at first, but things began to take shape.
The Yagami family specialized in formulating hollow bait. She had used one during training, but it was not nearly as potent as this one. So, that's it?! Her realization quickly began fueling her anger and resentment. You thought killing her would make me fall for you?! She understood that she had to marry him; she understood that their union was set in stone, but was Shiori's death predetermined as well? Of course it is, that is the life she was born into. She never asked to be born into the Ishigami family of priests.... So why did her love need to die because of it?! That's fucked up. If everything was predetermined, what was the point of anything she was doing?! She clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palm, drawing blood as the broke the skin.
Is this how the world works?! What little was left of her humanity was being pushed to the limit. If the world didn't exist, would fate still have any power? The only thing in this world worth protecting had just been ripped away from her, all because of what? Her status? Her family name? The tears began to pour down her cheeks. Would anything have changed if circumstances were different? She didn't ask to be spiritually gifted, all she'd ever wanted was to have a normal life. The only time she'd ever even felt remotely normal was with Shiori, and now she's gone. Why?!
"Lyra!" His voice rang across the field.
That was it. Something snapped. Within her soul, she could feel her hatred rushing out. You dare speak to me after what you'd just done?! She threw the pill shaped bait at him. As soon as the pill left her hand, she launched herself forward, her hand grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, slamming him onto a nearby tree.
"L...Lyra,"
She didn't want to hear his voice anymore. Without warning, she pulled her katana out of its sheath. She brought the weapon down so fast it was merely a black and purple blur. When the blade came to a stop at he side, it was dripping with blood. Before Kyo could retaliate, he had lost the ability to do so: his sword, along with the hand he had held it in laid several feet away from his body.
He tried to scream in pain, but Lyra's hand quickly moved up to his throat, forcing him to decide which was more important, breathing or screaming. "I...it was," he tried to squirm, but the woman's hand merely tightened, discouraging such action. "my father's idea."
You really think I give a fuck whose idea it was?! She merely grinned, licking her lips, as if she was going to enjoy was was to happen next. She turned her blade so that its edge faced the sky. With a firm thrust, she thrust the weapon between his legs impaling the tree a couple inches above his knees, just below his crotch. Slowly, she began lifting the blade, cutting away the bark as it proceeded — unrelentingly — upwards.
"Y..you crazy," He struggled, but it was no use. The blade was about to break the skin, there was little he could do to stop it. "Bitch!"
As if on cue, she gave her wrist a tug, and the blade cut straight up stopped only by the top of his hip bone. She could hear his muffled cry, but that only fueled her. "If you don't use it, you lose it." She withdrew her katana, then made a horizontal cut straight through the man's spine, severing his lower body from his torso. His screaming finally stopped. What a wuss.
By the time she had reached the Yagami shrine it had already been nightfall. The guards were on high alert on account of Kyo's disappearance. They were easy. One by one, the guards began to fall victim to the girl, moving in the shadows, using various forms of cover to shield her from prying eyes. Her katana entered the man's windpipe, destroying his vocal chords as they exited, preventing him from alerting his comrades. Was that number thirteen, or fourteen? She continued down the halls, extinguishing any guards who were unlucky enough to stand in her way.
The current head of the Yagami family was seated in his study, patiently waiting for his beloved son to return. But he'll settle for his daughter-in-law, right? Her blade sliced through the man's doors with ease. "Lyra!" He jumped out of her seat, obviously not expecting to see her. "Is Kyo with you?" She answered by driving the tip of her blade into the man's shoulder, pinning him back down into his seat
"Kyo is no longer with us, father." She twisted Muramasa, and grinned as she watched him squirm like father, like son.
"W...what have you done?" His hand reached for the blade, attempting to stop its movements, but as soon as his hand was close enough, Lyra quickly withdrew and pierced his hand on top of the wound she had inflicted earlier. "All this, because of your disgusting love affair?! We were trying to help you!" He scowled, words sending droplets of saliva plummeting onto Lyra's delicate face
Self righteous bastard. You don't deserve to talk about her. With a harsh downward swing, she took off half his hand and his arm. They made a loud thump as they hit the hardwood floor. Blood gushed out from his wound as he began screaming profanities. He'd probably give her the finger if he still could.
"The indecent sins you and your wench have committed had to be punished, such is fate."
Before he could spit out any more, she quickly turned and swiped her blade toward his head, separating his skull from his jaw. She hated that word.
"Lyra, that's enough." His voice resonated in the study.
Apparently, she didn't do a good enough job in exterminating these pests, as one of them was able to inform her father. Oh well. "Father, this world we live in is deeply flawed." She turned around, but did not let her guard down. "Shio didn't do anything wrong, why did she have to die?"
"Fate, Lyra, is inescapable."
"Then I'm going to destroy it."
"It is what governs our world."
"Then I'm going to destroy this flawed world."
"I cannot allow that, sweet heart."
There was nothing left to be said. The woman swung at her former master, with full intent to kill. It mattered not to her what their relationship was, the only thing she understood now was that he was in her way. Why are you protecting this incomplete, unrelenting world, where everything is decided from birth?! Her swing was met by his weapon, the clash of metal resonated throughout the room. Despite her father being a formidable opponent, she was slowly gaining the upper hand, forcing him to retreat more than attack. Perhaps he thought his daughter could still be saved?
He wished he was holding back, even her lighter attacks meant to parry his guard was harsh on his joints. It was taking all the energy he had to hold his ground against her. "Lyra, you can't fight fate." He spoke quickly, the slightest slip in attention would cost him his life. "Accept it child, we all must learn to do so."
"Was that why you let mother die?" She was tired of this world, tired of the circumstances people were being born under. Why couldn't she have been born into a normal family? Why did the only glimmer of hope she had for a normal life have to be taken away from her? Why did Shiori, a girl whose only fault was falling for her have to die such a gruesome death? She hated this world, the world where she and her love were fated to be separated. "Was that why you didn't so much as bother to try and save her?!"
Her words caught him off guard. As he had thought, that momentary lapse in focus would lead to his death — he taught her well. The man felt the metal of his old blade, Muramasa, pierce his abdomen, slicing open his diaphragm. He gasped for air, but the metal wasn't allowing for it. If he was lucky enough to live through the blood loss, he would suffocate. Taking short breaths, he was going to use the rest of his energy in a final attempt to stop his daughter. "S...sorry," He planted his feet and lunged forward, taking the sword deeper into his body. Knowing he had caught her by surprise, he withdrew his wakizashi and drove it into her heart. He gave one final breath. "I couldn't love you like she could...."
At first the the metal felt cold, but soon it was warmed up by her blood. She didn't, no, couldn't feel pain. Everything that was important to her in the world had already been taken away from her, what else was there to feel? She could only manage a weak smile, "You foolish man," Her voice was fading away. "I shall have the destruction I desire." The laugh that escaped her was almost demonic. There was nothing human left about the woman, no, humanity had eradicated all that was left of he human self.
If it means the end of fate, I will become the bringer of destruction.
Being dead wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. You don't feel cold, you don't feel hunger, and you don't even need rest. The only thing she could feel was the burning desire to destroy. Something as trivial as death would not be able to make her forget her deep-seated hatred for the world. Despite being a simple hollow, it was something that always burned in the back of her mind. Ironic, how she had become the very beings she helped purify, but perhaps it was her past life's experience that allowed to survive, preying on the weaker hollow, while avoiding eradication by the Shinigami.
Though she felt no hunger, there was a void within herself she desperately needed to fill. She did it the only way her primitive mind could fathom: feeding. As she began filling this void, she found her thoughts became much more coherent, as if accumulating the spiritual mass of other hollows restored her to her former self. Time was insignificant to her, or rather, she had no concept of it. The only thing that drove her was that desire to destroy. Centuries past, with her memories slowly solidifying.
There were no names, no faces, just blurred images, something called fate. She remembered she hated that word. The wolf-like demon wondered the woods of the desolate deserts of Hueco Mundo. At this point, she would rarely encounter anything that would pose a threat to her. She headed down to the oasis, where she had just recently killed a hollow resembling a deer. Her teeth dug into its flesh, tearing the muscle and soft tissue right off the bone. Blood dripped down her mouth as she chewed. Swallowing, she made her way to the clear water, taking a sip.
She had seen her refection countless times before, but this was the first time she had a sense of self-realization. A fox? How fitting.... She recalled the legends of a nine-tailed fox destroying the world. Seeing her reflection riled up her curiosity. The woman was curious what she had looked like underneath that mask. Although she had memories of her life as "Lyra", she never had a face to associated the name with, only blurred silhouettes.
With both hands (or paws?) she gripped the mask, attempting to rip the thing clean off. If felt as if someone was taking away all the air in the world. With each tug, the air was escaping, leaving her short of breath. This didn't deter her, she was already dead wasn't she? What need does she have for oxygen? She tugged again, with more force. Not only did it feel like she was getting the air sucked out of her lungs, but now, it was as if the mask was attached to all her internal organs. It felt as if she was about to yank her heart straight out.
At the same time, she felt a sliver of the power. Though she couldn't breathe, she could feel with each tug, the longer the mask had been off, the more power, the more strength she was getting. So what if pulling the mask yanks out her heart? What does she need one of those for anyway? She tugged again, refusing to let go. She had lost everything already once before, hasn't she? And now? She doesn't even have a life to lose anymore, what could possibly hold her back? With a deep breath, she gathered her entire strength and pulled.
The moonlight was unbearably bright, though she was only able to catch a glimpse of it before losing consciousness.
How long had she been laying there? The woman's vision was blurry as she sat up. Immediately, she noticed her skin, no longer covered with fur. No, instead it was a delicate peach colour, devoid of any signs of her ever being a beast. She looked around her, everything seemed to have stayed the same. She pushed herself up with her hands found something under her left palm. Her attention immediately went to the object: Muramasa. This feeling was all too familiar to her. The ornate weapon lay by her side, as if to accept her as its owner and master. She used it to prop herself up.
Taking in a large breath of the air, she could feel her new power surge up inside. She looked at her hands, moving them to get used to what they felt like. This will do. She smirked, satisfied with her new found abilities. With this, she was finally able to fulfill her wish: to destroy the chains of fate.
Unknown to the world of the living, this day would be the beginning of their end. The woman leisurely walked towards some unknown destination: there was no need to rush things, the end of the world has already been decided as fate. First, she'll need to find some clothes.
CLASS/LEVEL:EL-1 with 105 points. STATS: HAN: 18 REI:14 HAK:20 SEI:12 BUK:21 HOH:21 Points Earned: 1 Total points:106
QUOTE OR LYRICS HERE; NOT TOO LONG CBOX/OOC NAME:self-explanatory. OTHER CHARACTERS:list them here. |
[/td][/tr][/table] made by MOCKINGBIRD of BTN[/center]
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Post by Lyra Ishigami on Sept 26, 2013 0:53:16 GMT -5
From the RP sample I did for Gluttony, back in the day. ^_^ The hot summer nights were beginning to get on Gluttony's nerves. How did the humans survive such miserable conditions?! The air was so moist, she could hardly breathe, let alone catch the scent of the most delicious prey in her area. To ascend to the material world is a luxury given only to a privileged few, and even then, the myriad of rules and restrictions imposed on her visits made it almost not worth her while. No, that's untrue, a good meal would always be worth the trouble. She slowly descended from her aerial perch. She allowed her toes to first meet the asphalt, then she slowly lowered the rest of her bodyweight onto the middle of the road. Now, where did that particularly delicious smelling soul go? She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly, sniffing in short intervals of threes, changing directions as she repeated the process. She had almost turned in a complete circle before finally picking up the scent again.
"Gotcha". Her tongue protruded from her within her mouth and proceeded to wet her upper lip, slowly, starting from the right corner all the way to the left, making sure to cover every crevice with saliva. Her quest for a meal brought her out from the safety of the deserted alley into the treacherous main streets of the city. Though she was no stranger to modern technology, the concept of a "cross walk" eluded her -- the same could have been said about street lights. The coloured metal containers rushed past her in a blur as she stood at one side of the road. What separated her from her meal was about 8 lanes of asphalt and several tonnes of aluminium and plastic, whizzing by at speeds well over the allowed limit set by the law.
The woman stared at the sea of metal rushing by, contemplating a way to get across without having to over-exert herself.
Wonder if.... With her index finger protruding, she slowly extended her arm, poking the passenger window of a passing van. It was an easy task for one with her heightened perception. In fact, she thought she was moving quite slowly, doing such a task in a fraction of a second was pretty ordinary. When her flesh contacted the glass, the mass of the vehicle was suddenly shifted in the direction of the new force imposed on it by the woman's finger. The driver would have had no time to react to the sudden addition of a lateral force. The friction of the asphalt refused to let the rubber of the tires loose, sloughing off the rubber as it moved horizontally across the surface. The forward kinetic force of the vehicle was quickly changed into heat and a loud screech. After moving an entire traffic lane over, it finally stopped. This seemed to do the trick. Like a dam in a river, she had completely disrupted the flow of traffic, slowing both sides to a complete stop as drivers rushed out of their vehicles to either help, or spectate. She merely stared blankly. That worked out well.... Unbeknownst to her, an overpass was mere metres away: walking a couple extra metres? The mere thought was absurd, she was already late for dinner! Oh well, what's done is done.
The look on her face remained blank as she stepped past the safety rail, leaving the portion meant for pedestrians and making her way onto the asphalt meant for vehicles. Like a fish swimming upstream the woman pushed through the growing crowd, making her way across the now still main road to the last known location of her meal. The myriad of people made detecting the exact location of her prey difficult, as a million different scents flooded her sense of smell. Perfume, cologne, deodorant, cigarette smoke, these were just some of the less offensive scents she was detecting. None of them were as enticing as that one. She had just made it to the other side when the ambulances came blaring their horns. It wasn't for another few metres before she could pick up the scent again -- it was close.
The smell brought her down an alley, buried amongst tall buildings. Unlike the deserted street she started in, this one was well lit and full of life. Conversations mixed with laughter and cheer flowed out of the various doors with neon signs above them, flooding the street in a sea of noise, giving the impression of busyness. The alley was actually quite upbeat, one would be surprised to find such an oasis of sensual stimuli embedded in the greyness of the concrete jungle. Bright neon signs flashed in a rainbow of colours indicating that each establishment was in fact, open for business. Along with the audio stimuli pouring out of each door came the scent of barley and hops -- the distinct taste and smell of alcohol, beer to be exact. She placed her right palm upon the door and pushed it open, revealing an entirely new universe beyond the alley.
Within the gates was a dimly lit room filled with chairs and tables which matched the colour scheme of establishment: black and maroon. Along the back wall was a shelf, filled with various bottles, each with varying levels of liquid within them, some were almost untouched, while others were near empty, the contents were different too, some were clear, while others are a dark brown, some were even blue and green! She quickly scanned the wall, noticing the writing on the labels for each bottle, Smirnoff, Bacardi, Jack Daniel's, Jim Bean, Jaggermeister.... the list went on and on. Just in front of the wall stood a couple, one male, one female. They were secluded from the rest of the establishment by a counter a little lower than chest height. The woman had an oddly shaped metal container in front of her filled almost to the top with ice. Without turning around, she reached to the wall behind her and grabbed a bottle, poured what seemed to be an arbitrary amount in to the container, then replaced it. She repeated the process with several other containers of liquid, then slapped the lid onto the container.
"Ready, hon?" The female bartender picked up the jar and tossed it to her counterpart. The metal container made several twists and turns in the air before landing -- almost naturally -- in the man's hands.
"Cheers babe!" He gave the female a playful wink and got to work. He began by rigorously shaking the container within his left hand, after a couple shakes, he tossed it into the air. The trajectory of the container would mean it would eventually land behind him, but before it hit the ground, he moved his leg to break its fall. Like clockwork, the container landed on the back of his heel, even more miraculous, it landed bottom down! With a slight kick, he launched it back up into the air, catching it again with his free hands. He gave it a couple more shakes, then rolled it along his arm, past the back of his neck, down the other arm, then into his left hand: another couple shakes. The male bartender passed the metal container, now covered with condensation, back to his main hand, then gave his wrist a twist, forcing the shaker to spin within the palm of his right hand -- Lyra counted 6 full turns before stopping in its original position. "Ready?" He looked back at his partner as he popped off the cap with his thumb.
Before the woman answered, the container was already in the air, spinning along its horizontal axis. The centrifugal force was keeping the liquid pressed up against he bottom of the container, preventing any spills. She quickly reached under the counter and emerged with a high-ball glass. With careful concentration, she placed the glass at the place she thought the metal container would land. The audible noise of metal meeting glass was heard by those seated around the counter as the two containers met perfectly -- metal container, lid off, top down into an upright high-ball glass. The pink coloured liquid poured out and stopped just before it touched the metal opening. With her free hand, she dislodged the two containers, tossing the metal one into a nearby sink filled with warm sudsy water. She reached for a coaster, and placed it in front of her customer, then the newly created drink on top of that. "Enjoy." She gave the seated man a playful wink.
Lyra's eyes followed the drink to the man who ordered its creation, the very same man that was to be her meal for the night -- just in time too, as she was beginning to get a little hungry. The embodiment of sin ran the fingers of her left hand through her hair, pushing her fringes to the side of her face, revealing those irresistible maroon eyes. Gripping her gown at the waist, she pulled it down slightly, revealing more of her chest. The index finger of her right hand dug into the centre of her chest and pierced the skin, it wrapped around the ring and pulled it out slightly, revealing only the ring, leaving the rest of her enormous weapon hidden within her body. The exposed ring resembled a necklace, or perhaps a piercing? She placed each hand beneath her breasts, pushed them up and together slightly. Show time.
As she placed one foot in front of the other as she walked, making sure to place particular emphasis on her waist movement, rocking them back and forth, up and down as she approached the seat next to him. Since the chairs were higher than normal, she had to do a little push and hop to mount it. As she landed, she let out a soft "Oomph." By this point, her straightened gown was ruffled, riding slightly up her legs.
"What can I get you sweetie?" The male bartender laid his charms on her, but tonight, she was set on her meal. Though the thought of toying with his emotions and breaking the trust formed between he and his partner was tantalizing, she felt such a task was better left for Lust.
"That." She replied, nodding her head toward her soon-to-be dinner. The female bartender quickly added the contents in a new container and threw it at the male, this time more forceful, hitting him in the chest before he fumbled and finally managing to catch it.
"Catch, hon." The bartender's previous loving voice was replaced by something a little rougher around the edges.
As the entire show repeated itself, Lyra turned her attention back toward her meal, leaning to ward him, she placed her lips mere inches away from his ears. "I didn't mean the drink." She whispered, making sure only he could hear. Her hand fell to his lap as she moved away, gliding down from his thigh to his knees before it relinquished contact. She made sure his eyes were following, as her hand gripped the bottom of her gown. When she had his full attention, she slowly lifted the fabric off her legs, exposing her upper thigh. Before he was able to catch a glimpse, she quickly pulled the fabric back down and flattened it by brushing her palms down her thigh.
"Enjoy." The woman behind the counter snarled, as she placed the drink on the counter.
"Thanks honey." She replied with a smiled and wink.
"S... so who might I be speaking to? I... I'm...." Her meal seemed to have a slight difficulty speaking to her. Adorable. She smirked and placed her left index finger on his lips.
"Cheers." Her free hand gripped her drink and moved it off the coaster and toward the man, gesturing him to do the same. As he brought his glass to his lips, the woman removed her finger, allowing him to join her in a drink.
The pink liquid poured down her throat, coating it in a sweet, peach flavoured syrup. In one swig, she managed to drain the contents of her glass before placing it back onto the coaster. She watched as her man did the same. "Sweet-heart?" She called out to the female bartender, forcing her to reply. "We'd like something a little," Though she called the female over, her gaze left her quickly and moved onto the male as she continued. "Stiffer." She winked at him.
In less than a second, a loud thunk was produced as the slightly angry bartender grabbed a full bottle of liquor and broke its seal. Under the counter, she grabbed two shot glasses and filled them to the brim with the hazel coloured liquid. "Here."
Lyra took both glasses. She placed one in front of herself and one in front of the bartender who just served her. "Oh, this one's for you." She smirked, knowing how irritated the woman must have felt. Gluttony brought the liquid to her lips and titled her head back allowing it to slide down her throat. That was a little better. "And sweetie, we'll take the bottle." Without waiting for a reply, she threw the bartender a wallet. She took the bottle and glasses in one hand and with her other she grabbed the wrist of the man beside her, walking as a pair into one of the more private booths.
The bottle was almost three quarters empty before the man finally gathered up the courage to ask her to leave with him.
"Oh, your apartment sounds amazing!" Though she had consumed just as much alcohol as him, she felt no more than an iota of its intoxicating effects -- he on the other hand could barely stand. "I would love to see your new bed sheets." His sheets didn't interest her one bit, it was his flesh and soul she wanted.
"O...okay babe, l... let me get this." He reached in to his pocket, but was unable to find what he was looking for. "Sh... fuck. My wallet!" He jumped up, almost knocking over the table between them.
She also stood, placing her palm firmly on his chest, using him to support some of her weight. She brought her lips within inches of his. "I already took care of it hon." She whispered as she shifted more weight on him, forcing him back into his seat. "Now, lets go see that apartment of yours."
She quickly drained what was left in the bottle labelled "Jack Daniel's" as she gripped his wrist and pulled him (by the belt) away from the booth and out the door. The way the alley once bursting with life had quieted down was almost eerie, as if a plague had come and passed whilst they were inside the bar -- in a way it has, it's known as a "work day". The only ones left in the alley were the pair: her walking with almost complete composure, while he stumbled and shifted, often needing her just to maintain upright. After the most round-about way, they were finally approaching their destination.
"It...s just right here." He fumbled with his keys, having the hardest time finding the right opening for it to go in, then actually placing it in. Finally, with her help, he opened the main gate to the building. Although he lived merely on the third floor, there would be no way for him to make it up the stairs, thus the pair waited for the lift. It didn't take very long for them to reach the door to his apartment, in front of which he repeated the whole routine of fumbling with his keys. Finally, he got it in.
The pair navigated through the living room and down the hall leading to the bedroom. He leaned in for a kiss, but his lips were greeted with nothing but her index finger. "Patience," She placed the palm of her free hand on his chest, forcing him to fall onto the bed harshly with a firm shove. "Let me get into something more comfortable." She left the room, heading to the front door. She made sure chain was on, and all the windows and blinds were all closed firmly before heading back into the bedroom.
He had already began unbuttoning his shirt. Without a word of warning the woman pounced on top of him, placing her left hand firmly on his chest, disallowing him the freedom to move his torso and hindering his breathing slightly. "Let's begin." The nails of her free hand ran up from his stomach up to his neck. "Relax." She brought her lips mere centimetres away from his as her nails began to dig deeper and deeper into his jugular, slowly piercing the skin.
"W...wai...t" He tried to resist, but it was already too late -- she was knuckle deep in his throat.
"I love you too, sweetheart." Their lips finally touched. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, muffling most of his screams, which were already beginning to lose their tone due to her fingers obstructing his airway. Once the opening was large enough, she placed her other hand into the newly formed cavity in his neck as well, tearing his flesh away from the bone. The blood gushed like an unstoppable hydrant, covering the woman's neck, chest and clothes in the crimson liquid. His screams were finally silenced due to both the lack of blood and breath.
Her lips left his, which was now ice cold, deprived of blood flow. She lowered herself so that she and the gash she made in his throat were at eye level. What beautiful handiwork. She dug right in -- without even saying grace! But just because her lips and teeth were at work didn't mean her hands were free to rest, oh no. Her claws crawled down his body, digging into anything they came in contact with, ripping the flesh away from bone. The woman moved her way down until every last bit was consumed. By the time she was finished, the morning sun had began to rise. The beams of sunlight penetrating the shutters illuminated the room, giving everything a slight hint of colour. Had she paid attention to him, she would have know what the colour of his sheets were. But that didn't matter, they were crimson now. The creature laid amongst the still damp sheets, beside her was her partner, albeit nothing but his skull, but her "partner" none the less. She licked her lips, cleaning the blood around it. Despite the mess she had made on the bed, the woman was actually quite a clean eater, showing almost no sign of what had occurred during the night.
A knock on the door disturbed her peace. "You alright in there?" It must have been the neighbours hearing his muffled screams.
She quickly got to her feet, leaving his skull on the bed where she just had dinner. She could have used a nap before after such a feast, but she didn't want to be troubled with dealing with any witnesses. Opening the window just big enough for her to slip through, the woman leaped out onto the top of a near by telephone post from which she had a perfect view through his window and of the bed. She sat on her perch staring at the bed for a while until his door was finally busted open by several neighbours. Their piercing screams could be heard throughout the entire district. She had no choice but to admire her work. "Thanks for the meal, love."
The embodiment of Gluttony got back on her feet and slowly moved away from the scene of the crime, passing the authorities on her way. The summer air was beginning to get humid again, causing her hair to droop and her fringes were obstructing her vision once again -- what's worse was that she was still hungry. There's nothing worse than having a bad hair day on an empty stomach! The woman's hand moved to brush her hair away from her eyes when she spotted some crimson liquid remaining on her finger tips. She placed her lips around the residue and licked the remainder clean, making sure to get every last drop.
Muy delicioso.
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