Aches and Pains

Joined: June 14th, 2013, 9:54 pm

July 3rd, 2013, 3:37 am #1

    Joraziel was lucky to be alive. He had spent almost a week in the unforgiving desert, his body succumbing to the heat. If little Neve hadn't found him, he would have certainly died in the dirt. He was eternally grateful to her for running out to him and for getting help. She had saved his life and he would find a way to repay her for it.

    It had been three days since they had pulled him out of the desert and brought him to the plantation house. The amount of magic and work that it took to keep a farm and orchard alive in the desert was almost beyond comprehension. Then again, Jo was a Sylph, an air Fae. Creating and maintaining a water source were clearly out of his jurisdiction. If they ever needed a nice breeze, he could do that. There was plenty else he could do too, but nothing so life-sustaining.

    The Fae was being kept in a room near Iolanta's, a small square one with a cot in the corner and a small side table that currently held his various ointments and tinctures. That and a glass of precious, beautiful water. Jo doubted he would ever take water for granted again.

    Jo's skin was blistered still, peeling in places where he had managed to provide himself some protection with clothing or his wings. His shoulders had cracked, dry flesh that didn't even hurt because of the nerve damage there. He hoped that they would heal, that he would not lose the feeling in his flesh forever. For the time being, it was easier to keep his wings disappeared, as it made lying down on the small cot more comfortable. When he was well, he planned on building himself a cot large enough to sleep on with his wings extended.

    Lying on his stomach, his back covered in an ointment of aloe and who-knows-what, the Fae heard someone enter the room. The footsteps were definitely not Neve's, soft and light, nor one of the men who had rescued him from the desert. He would have sensed Iolanta. Instead a different wave of power came over him. Whoever had just entered his convalescing chamber was old and very powerful.

    He was only wearing a sheet wrapped loosely around his buttocks and groin, but he had never been a shy sort. Hell, he would have gone naked if it weren't for Neve's coming to check on him now and again; it felt rude to let his manly bits hanging out when she came in.

    Slowly opening one eye, he peered over the edge of his pillow at his new visitor.

    "Yes?"
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 1:51 am

July 3rd, 2013, 4:12 am #2

She'd been staying away from the healing room of their new Fae compatriot. The fact that he was being kept so close to Iolanta was enough to keep her away for a few days longer than she'd planned. One could only keep up the pretense of obeisance for so long, after all. Iolanta was, if anything, her equal - not her leader, or her boss, or anything else the plebeian masses of Door might label the woman with the beautiful eyes. Darcy could have eyes like that, all she'd have to do was pluck them from the other Fae's face. Not that she would, politics was a fickle game after all. Besides, sometimes she agreed with the other woman.

The Earth Fae walked slowly through the orchard, closing her eyes and breathing in the sunshine on green leaves, the flowers that she could not sustain underground, and the fruit of trees she had once feared she would never again caress. She spent a lot of time in the Orchard. She spent more time in the Orchard than the room in the plantation house which had been labeled as hers. Though she always knew if someone else should set foot inside. People knew better. Now.

She ignored those that she passed by, intent on her destination. Curiosity would get her in the end, just as it had her younger sister. Still, Darcy was sure it would be quite some time before it did "get her". She paused at the threshold for a moment, head cocked as she looked not at his body, but at his soul. The aura surrounding him was one of power and strength, the two weren't mutually exclusive after all. She considered having a little taste, but it was the height of bad manners and she hadn't decided if she disliked him or not just yet.

The lean brunette entered the room, posture straight and head held high. She was looking down her nose, an amused tilt to the corner of her lips as she now gazed over his form with regular site. Long legs, long back, long arms, well wasn't he a treat? The Hag trailed the tip of her fingernail down the back of the man's thigh, the burns weren't quite as bad where he had been covered by the substandard cloth. Not anything was really up to standards these days. Years ago she would have greeted him as befitted a princess of the Unseelie court - fully gowned and in a terrible and beautiful visage that no mere mortal could see without quaking in fear that had been well earned.

Sadly times had changed. "Just checking on our newest acquisition." She smiled, just a bit, though it wasn't an expression that said she was in the mood to play nice. She would have circled his cot if it hadn't been pressed up against the wall. Sometimes people needed to consider dramatics in their decorating schemes. Yet another problem she had with the pseudo-slaves that Iolanta seemed to be keeping.
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 9:54 pm

July 3rd, 2013, 4:35 am #3

    Being weak and helpless was not something Jo was accustomed to. The fingernail that traced its way over his thigh was enough to make him feel like a trapped rat, just waiting to be eaten by the cat playing with him. He raised his head and rolled over so that he could get a better look at the other Fae. He wanted to be facing her, to have some chance of defense if she decided that he was an enemy. It hurt him to roll over, but he ignored the pain, hiding it behind a wry smile. He could not show weakness in front of this one.

    Who was she? Unseelie, certainly, and very old. Between the power and the way she spoke, he assumed she was royalty. Unseelie court, probably just below the Gray Lords. That meant this was a game to her, a dangerous game for those who did not know they were playing.

    "I'm not sure I like being referred to as an acquisition," he said, the quirk of his lips still present as he spoke. His mouth was healing, the cracks in his lips beginning to fill in as moisture was restored. If Jo had not avoided the courts so much he might have recognized the woman, but as it was she was yet another stranger in this strange town.

    "I am Joraziel of the Seelie Court, son of Prince Edan of Eire and Princess Anina of the Sky," he said, giving the woman his full name and birth as was dictated by Fae customs. "I doubt Ireland still exists in any capacity, but if it did I would be the Lord of all of it." He shrugged his shoulders just slightly and then locked eyes with the other woman. One eye was darker than the other.

    Something clicked in his memory and his smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. "You're the fucking Morrigan, the Princess Anann," he said and then laughed. It was the only thing that made sense, between the eyes and the power and the personality. Everyone in the Fae courts knew about Princess Anann. Seelie mothers told their children about her to get them to go to bed at night. "My mother told me that she met you once at a meeting of the courts. She said that you were beautiful and fearsome, and that so many of the other Unseelie cowered beneath you. My father called you "the Spider", because you were beautiful but deadly and you weren't above sucking out someone's insides."

    He chuckled. If Anann had a problem with his memories, so be it. It would be sort of funny if he had survived the desert just to die at the hands of an Unseelie. "Fuck the courts anyway. Glad to see someone else made it."
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 1:51 am

July 3rd, 2013, 6:58 am #4

It was simply precious when creatures looked at her with nothing but profound confusion. Like they were breaking their tiny little brains in an attempt to understand her. It was too bad for many of them that she was an immortal and therefore things with a finite amount of years in them simply couldn't comprehend a being that had virtually no end. She might as well be a god, all things considered. In fact she had for a few centuries, hadn't she?

She gave Joraziel a mocking look of understanding. He was an acquisition for the town at the very least, if not for Iolanta herself. How anyone could trust a Fae that pretended to be all sweetness and light was not only disappointing, but also kind of disgusting. Oh. Iolanta the savior! Yes, the woman made a lake. Wonderful. She brought them all from the dark! Technically she'd killed no few of them first because she hadn't bothered checking for other shelters after she'd left her own. Darcy should have killed more of them.

Unmatched eyes focused back on the Air Fae as he introduced himself. A Seelie Prince. Adorable. She turned a frown on the little start up when she mentioned that he was the lord of all Ireland. "Debatable." It was a quick snap, the Seelie did so love to lay claim to things as a whole rather than the pieces that were truly their own. Not only that, but how did some Sylph think he could control something so wild and green and alive with mischief?

The insufferable infant stopped smirking at her at least, grinning fully as he named her. She remembered Prince Edan and Princess Anina, of course. The woman who was once known (collectively with her sisters) as the Morrigan had contemplated in great deal how she thought it might feel to devour a Seelie Princess bit by bit while the other creature screamed her delicious pain to the heavens that could not help her. Anina hadn't enjoyed to conversation as much as Darcy had. Speaking of.

"I am known as Darcy Monroe here in Door. I left the courts long ago." Of course she'd left them for humans because of her damnable curiosity. Also because they had so many different emotions and their souls came in flavors one could never find among the Fae.

A small grin tilted the corners of her lips upwards as he proclaimed his feelings for the court systems themselves. "Your father was an ass of the highest pedigree, but he did have a talent for accurate summations." A spider. How very droll, especially when one considers the webs that one mightn't notice until they had walked through the sticky tendrils. She pinched a bit of his humor, a lovely shade of green, and drew it to her mouth with her pinky, she could suck his insides out. Of course he'd fight and others would get involved and it would get messy, but she could do it. Instead the Hag settled for just a little taste and grinned wickedly at the man.
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 9:54 pm

July 6th, 2013, 4:13 am #5

    Jo wasn't about to argue in his father's name. He didn't have any malice toward the man, but that didn't mean that he was about to stand up for him either. Edan could be a royal prick and the Sylph had never denied it. His mother had been a strong, good woman, and had the Hag said anything about her he might have gotten annoyed - as it was, he mostly agreed with her.

    His nostrils flared when he sensed her taking a "taste" of him, drawing just slightly from his life force and his emotions. Had he been fully healthy, he would have sucked all of the air from her lungs and watched as she struggled for a bit. Unfortunately, he was still recovering from his little experience in the desert. There were other things he could do without expending too much energy, however.

    The air in the room suddenly got very, very cold. Joraziel's breath came out in steaming clouds, his eyes locked on the Unseelie as he pulled his body into a sitting position.

    "I have no qualms with the Unseelie. I never have and I hope that I am never given reason to. This place seems pleasant enough and a battle between the two of us could demolish what people have worked so very hard to build." His voice was as cold as the room around them, even and flat. "You need their fear to survive. We both need the water that Iolanta has created for us. Without this town we are doomed to a slow, painful death. So, Princess, for the sake of the survival of everyone, do not ever taste me again."

    The Sylph's eyes hazed over, a thin veneer of white covering the iris and pupil. Frost had begun to collect on the window and the water in the glass on his bedside table had frozen solid. "I am not your plaything."
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 1:51 am

July 26th, 2013, 10:52 pm #6

Oh, little Jo didn’t like her little taste test at all. It was darling, the way his jaw grew tight and his nostrils flared. The obvious show of anger was so very human, but then he’d been locked away with them for as long as Darcy herself, so it wasn’t all that surprising. After all, he was still fairly young and open to suggestion, even the mortal kind. He might not even realize that his emotions were playing across his pretty face.

His eyes focused on her and a chill settled throughout the room, sending a shiver of delight down her spin. It was a nice surprise, a Fae with a backbone in Door. Other than Iolanta no one seemed to want to cross her, at least not more than once. Iolanta, of course, was a whole other breed of trouble. One best not dwelled on for too long. The creature was far too ambitious for a Seelie, but she also had the disgusting tendency to help people for no reason in particular. You couldn’t trust a person with no obvious motives. Well, worship, maybe.

”But you taste so good,” She was half purring, leaning forward with that wicked smile still on her lips as she let her gaze travel over the long length of him. He certainly was put together prettily. She wanted to rake her thorns down his legs and lap away the blood as his eyes went white with anger. She tilted her head a bit, pondering him with both eyes to see what changes might be had. Everything around them was freezing in the middle of the desert heat. The power in that reaction made her crave him physically, made her want to make him scream for release, to devour him whole. The smile slid from her face, leaving a blank mask in it’s place as she perched at the end of his cot.

”Little boy, everyone is my plaything on some level or another.” It was one of the most candid things she was likely to ever say to another being in Door. Maybe because he was new and powerful and so very pretty. Maybe it was because a part of her was wondering how long it would take to manipulate him into being an ally against Iolanta. The reasons didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered these days. Treating people like her toys was one of the few things that kept her from losing her shit and simply destroying everything and everyone in the township. She ran a finger down his leg again, not bothering to taste him, just because she could. ”My name is Darcy. Try and keep that in mind, darling.”
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 9:54 pm

July 27th, 2013, 1:08 am #7

    "I'm glad you find me delectable, but regardless of your opinion on the matter I am not yours for the tasting," Joraziel said, his voice gaining a harder edge. This Unseelie bitch was grating his nerves and he was already tired and feeling like fifteen kinds of shit.

    She didn't taste him again, which was fortunate. He was under strength but that didn't mean he wouldn't do his damndest to hurt her. He wondered what it would feel like to remove all of the air from her body and watch as she withered and then squirmed on the floor, her dry gasps the only sound she could make. It would be satisfying, more than anything. Even the most powerful of Fae could be taken down by another Fae. It was all a matter of figuring out how to do it.

    "Well consider me a toy with sharp edges and a choking hazard," he said, looking down at the finger that traced over his thigh. He reached down and put his hand over hers, holding her wrist a little too tight.

    "Darcy, sweetness, you may call yourself whatever you like, but that doesn't mean I'm going to abide by it. If I choose to call you Princess Fluffy Gumdrop that's my prerogative and I'm bloody likely to stick to it."

    He squeezed her hand even more tightly, enjoying the way her bones pushed together inside of his much larger hand. Interesting creature, this Darcy. If he didn't want to choke the very life out of her, he might have found her attractive. "You know, you would be attractive if you weren't such a cunt."
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 1:51 am

July 27th, 2013, 10:22 pm #8

He touched her, wrapping long fingers around her wrist and squeezing tightly. Her bones pressed together like so much kindling. rubbing together as though the might crack apart with just a bit more force. She looked down, noting the difference in their skin tones. Her's just a touch warmer, the influence of a healthy glamour, and his so burned he could have passed as a half breed.

"The sharp edges are part of what make you so intriguing." She still wasn't smiling, just gazing at him with that blank face. Like she had forgotten how to animate her features. It was a problem some of the older fae had, remembering to show some kind of emotion so as not to draw notice. After all, in the Underhill showing emotion was weakness, but out in the world it was apparently a strength, a bonding mechanism. "And it's only choking hazard if you forget to swallow." Let him consider that for a moment. Maybe when he was better she would come back to that topic. He could call her whatever he liked if he could get her off.

"Fair enough." She just wouldn't respond to him. If he wanted to speak to her, he could use her name. If he wanted to speak about her he could say whatever he fucking felt like saying. She'd certainly been called worse than Gumdrop. Others didn't always have the life expectancy after issuing forth such words, but even so. They could go back to that argument at a later date, after they had finished circling each other warily and decided where they stood with one another.

His fingers were pulling together again, the fresh ache in her wrist brought a slight smile to the Fae's face as he drew her out of her thoughts. She leaned closer to him, her gaze on his face. The prettiest of the Fae were generally the most dangerous, but then that was the same as most species. This Joraziel was very prettiest. Yes, she was definitely intrigued. "I'm attractive despite being such a cunt." She corrected him easily, not offended by his honesty.
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 9:54 pm

July 28th, 2013, 1:25 am #9

    "...only choking hazard if you forget to swallow." The Fae's eyebrows shot up at the comment, a smile breaking the previously angry glare glued to his face. The bitch might have made him mad, but she clearly wasn't all bad. Anyone who could be so overtly sexual was either a deviant or had a sick sense of humor; possibly both. He was a bit curious to find out, if only because he hadn't gotten laid in almost a year and the idea of fucking someone as old and powerful as part of the Morrigan was intriguing.

    "That may be true, but your cunting attitude doesn't help your fuckability any. Looks alone, you're lovely. Then you open your mouth and I don't know whether I want to crush your windpipe in my fists or kiss you," he said. "Mostly the windpipe crushing though, to be honest."

    Joraziel let go of her wrist, glad to see the red marks left there by his fingers. They would fade in a minute or two, but it was enough to know that he had caused her some pain. The room began to go back to a normal temperature, the ice on the window turning into condensation.

    "So what's your story, Darcy? You know how I ended up here, dragging myself through the desert, but what about you?"
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Joined: June 14th, 2013, 1:51 am

July 28th, 2013, 1:59 am #10

Darcy allowed her amusement to pull forward, chuckling as she fell sideways, her elbow on the other side of Joraziel's leg as her palm held her head up. Laying across his legs she had a good view of him, and her lounging position was at once comfortable and congenial (leading others to be more likely to leave them alone) but was also the best position to move quickly out of the door should she feel that she no longer wanted the other Fae's company.

"Yes, the young do enjoy their bedtime stories." She remarked, the smile still playing around her lips. The story of how she came to be in this desert oasis, the story of her life amongst the mortals. Where would one start such a story if they were to give the entire pictures? Probably at the beginning. Once upon a time there were three Fae children, lively little girls known for their lack of compassion and their love of life-force. Of course, that would imply that Darcy wanted to metaphorically paint someone a complete portrait.

"I was given a missive. I got to the shelter and sealed the door a few short minutes before the blasts began." She had left others on the other side of that hatch, ignoring their screams and the begging of mothers with children. They were unimportant when compared to the orders of the Grey Lords. "A few years later Iolanta caved in our shelter while making a lake to frolic about in." The lake, Iolanta's sign to the world that she had the biggest dick in the district. Darcy was fine with the Water Fae wearing the all powerful target on her back.

"She created an oasis and because of that we were able to create the orchards and farms. Our refuge." If her tone was sarcastic on the last two words it was because she had more than a few thoughts on that. Her words were honest, she couldn't lie after all, but the refuge was only there because someone had wanted to reset the world. Like an angry child knocking aside all of the chess pieces. Russian Fae had started all of this madness. A Russian Fae was the one to begin setting the board to rights once more.

"So now I live in a town called Door, once more among trees and dirt. Free to fly as long as my wings can hold me loft, free to dance beneath the stars and sky. Free go anywhere I please, if there were actually anywhere to go." Now if only she were free to go to the Underhill and once more be among her own to recover from the mortality she had been buried with for so long. Wouldn't that be nice?

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