Moondust.

  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    July 9th, 2016 at 11:51pm
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    Pain was all Yune could remember after she delivered that final blow, sending Arneas to who-knew-where, and sparing her own life in the very last moment. She panted lightly, fell to her knees. No, this wouldn't do. She couldn't fall over here and nurse her injuries. He knew where she was and he would come back to finish her off. If not him, any other god weak or strong could claim her title here. That would be most ungodly, most unworthy.

    Afraid for her own very existence, Yune had summoned a protective barrier, white and round and hurtled from the realm of gods. Where had this new god come from? So quickly, and so strong! Had the people given up on her? The wars were bloody and filled with evil, no courage, no bravery and no dignity. They were nothing like the wars she remembered.

    She didn't know where she landed (she only hoped it was on Earth, she could conceal from unaware human eyes) - for once she was in that cocoon, she was oblivious to the world. How much time had passed, how many days, years? God-inflicted wounds did not heal as well as any other normal wound. Now she was here in the white and quiet, surrounded by soft material stained in blood as she fell in and out of consciousness before finally losing all strength to keep her awake and passing out, letting her healing abilities take control.
    Arneas lowered his hand. The bright light was gone. He grit his teeth and slowly lowered himself to one knee using his sword as a way to keep balance. Gingerly he touched his stomach and pulled away a bloodied hand. That bitch. He narrowed his eyes and looked around but try as he could he could not see her for lands and lands. Where...? He tensed, ready for a surprise attack but as moments dragged on he realised there would not be one. He would have to leave and heal. He briefly recalled a small temple of his nearby, a sanctuary he could feast in and regain his strength before he could go to a bigger temple. He forced himself to stand and flared his wings of light, sheathing his sword and relocating himself to the small temple.

    Oh, they would not expect him. He was a god, he came when he pleased and where he pleased and sometimes he would not come to a temple at all - especially if it were small and lacking any value. He wanted gifts and offerings of food and sacrifices. If the temple only sent prayers, he did not care for it. This temple was not so small but it was not large either. It would do for now.

    In a small flash of light he appeared at the top of the altar and he looked down upon the food there. How pitiful. He wanted wine and a full cow, and perhaps a maiden to strengthen him. There was neither of that here. Arneas looked around, still gingerly covering his bleeding wound, and aware of many others.
    July 10th, 2016 at 02:11am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    Apollyon sat on his throne, his calloced fingers running over and over the bones on which he sat. His kingdom was dark, but it was filled with an unseen excitement as his servants seemed to jump with joy; they were indeed celebrating something grand. He glanced down at his hands, the swirling pattern of red tracing from his fingers to his toes and he smiled again. He was so much more powerful than what was headed to his throne room and it seemed it was time for the entire world to know. He heard his servants coming before he saw them, they're yelling and whooping was breaking the usually solemn and powerful silence that filled his kingdom. He looked down, the white marble table they had laid for her was set in front of him and it was the only spot of brightness in the room.

    Apollyon watched the darkness of his throne room be disrupted with a glowing white orb and he smirked, standing from his throne to appraise the orb. How lucky was he, to come upon a broken and wilted Goddess? Surely there had been a fight and it seemed the new and old had both lost, perhaps it was time for someone new to control, someone darker and stronger. He walked around the orb, wondering how long she could stay in such a state. He reached his hand up to touch the orb and his hand stung as the flesh was burnt from his hand. He chuckled, "Clever, isn't she?" He said, his voice echoing the around the room. He removed his hand, stretching his fingers and watching the skin growing slowly back on it.

    "Should we break it, my Lord?" His most loyal servant, Priscilla, asked practically dancing with excitement and fire in her eye.

    "No," Apollyon stated, waltzing back to his throne and stretching the fresh red skin on his hand. "We will wait."
    Aurora awoke with a start, the kitchen in her temple bustling with voices and the clattering of pots and pans. "Koreetsi mou," Georgia whispered. "You must get up. There is a God here," she continued, pulling Aurora up from her bed. Aurora slipped into her shoes, feeling a rush of panic as well as confusion. While their temple was used as a resting place, they never acted like this before and Gods and Goddesses never stayed more than a few hours. She felt her stomach twist, a strong pang of longing to be home washed over her as she tugged on her shawl. Why would a God be here? Why would anyone come here? Why did they insist of stealing her away from the little quiet farm she had known to work here? She twisted the fabric of her covering anxiously though she couldn't get her feet to move from where they rested on the stone floor.

    Georgia, a robust women who acted much like a mother, popped her head back in from the kitchen. Breathlessly and sweating, she came into the room and stood Aurora up from where she sat. She rummaged in her trunk and handed her the bag of medical supplies and herbs. Her small farm town had taught her the most natural ways to cure and it was the piece of home she clung to. Georgia ran her fingers through Aurora brown and dirty hair and rubbed the dirt off her face. "Take this bottle of wine and all your medicines, yes? He will not the need them, but we must offer them. You will be quiet, though I would not expect many words from you anyway. You will not be needed for long and then they will send you back to me, yes?" Aurora's eyes fell stone cold on Georgia's and she nodded. "Go," Georgia said, pulling her to the nearest hallway and pushing her forward.Aurora's feet moved sluggishly against the floor of the hall and the many workers of the temple pushed past her, muttering about her pace. She glanced back but Georgia was already gone and she sucked in a long breath as she turned the corner to the altar room.

    She had never seen a God before and she understood immediately why women got in so much trouble with them; he was gorgeous. He was chiseled and sleek, even despite the blood soaking the white linens around him. His blonde hair looked like gold silk, woven just for him, and his skin seemed to glow in a way she couldn't understand. She sucked in a shaking breath as she walked (very slowly) up the steps, letting the hood of her shawl fall from her face. His eyes were closed, though she was sure he knew she was there, but she did not know how to proceed. "Excuse me, sir," she muttered, "I have brought wine and bandages," she added. Georgia had said not to speak, but what was she to do? She wanted to kick herself for saying sir, of all the things a God was, sir was not one of them. She stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if the God himself would strike her where she stood.

    @ Ria Miku;
    July 10th, 2016 at 04:25pm
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    Days, four days she had been in there. However, time was irrelevant for Yune. She spent the time inside healing, dimly and briefly aware that someone had touched the orb about the 'second day', small pats and then a rather large touch about the 'third day'. If she had been conscious, she would have become wary but alas, she slept through it all.

    Her eyes fluttered open and came to rest on the white material in front of her, material that surrounded her. It was difficult to describe. Soft as the clouds, but felt like silk, nothing human made. She turned lightly in her spot, looking up at the whiteness around her. So quiet, it was so very quiet. The stillness of sound pressed on her ears and she could almost hear the soft pulse of her blood in her ears, hear her heart beat. She raised her hand and looked at it. A delicate hand, a godly hand, stained with glimmering red blood. There was a gold shimmer to it though, unlike the blood of humans, as if a reminder of who really had the power even in the worst of all their times.

    But there was blood all over in here, and although her blood did not smell like a human's stale blood would, it was still unpleasant to lie in it. It was time to come out. She braced herself. Whatever had happened outside was out of her control, she just needed to be ready, to find new food and then retreat to heal again.

    The orb shook a little, and a thin crack ran down it's middle, splitting off here and there from the top to the bottom, unfolding slowly like a flower with a soft sigh. Yune had sat up on her side, frowning softly at the smell that forced its way in. A smell of… something unpleasant. She covered her nose lightly, adjusting the senses to minimise the foulness that seeped in so it would not be so distracting, and looked around. Something touched her leg. Something vile and sinister. Yune monetarily panicked, and a small wave of light burst out, killing the small creature. But another appeared into view, and another, and another… Yune looked around, finding she was surrounded by them. Her heart skipped a beat. Demons. There were larger and stronger amidst them, ones she could not kill with a burst of light in her current state and then there were… Her eyes landed on the throne and then on the figure that stood out most against them all.

    Her expression of shock turned into fear, then like a rolling wave it became anger and hate. "Demon," She hissed, every inch in her body naturally hating and loathing their presences, her grey eyes narrowing. But she felt he was strong, there was a power radiating from him. She would not be able to defend herself, did he know? Play pretend, act strong. If he were to touch her, he would feel his hand burn but it would be bearable - naturally, and likewise she would feel a burn if she touched him. God and Demon were not the same, they were not compatible. Of course, there was the God of the Underworld, who lived and frolicked amongst these demons but even he despised them. He had learned how to live and get along, perhaps if she could find him…
    He had wondered why there were no people around, but the light outside told him it was night time, a resting time for humans. Small weak humans who needed to rest everyday. Like children. No matter. Arneas retreated from the altar itself and back into a comfortable (but not as quite comfortable as he would have liked it to be) chair and rested there, closing his eyes. Though his bright flash of an appearance and stirred some life in this stone cold temple and now there were mutterings and fussing. He was aware they had peeped at him, he was aware of how far and hesitant they were, how their hearts pounded and how their eyes widened. Slowly, one by one, they started to drag things into the temple. Fresh food, a pig, a bird, but no cow. Upon second thought, Arneas decided he wanted a bull instead.

    While they fussed and brought in gifts, he focused on healing, channeling all his flowing energy and strength into healing the large wound in his abdomen. It burned like many fires, throbbed with every beat of his heart. Glimmering blood staining the linens he wished to shed and replace. Later… later…

    Someone stepped in. Almost immediately this human was different. Arneas was young, a few three hundred years old, but he knew what a God's light was and this human suspiciously shone like it. Her, it was a girl he decided, aura was brighter, more alive, more vivid in his all-sight. She neared him, and though he sensed her he remained still. She spoke, and it took Arneas only a small moment to understand her language. Humans had many languages, it was bothersome but Gods developed a way to understand what was being said by all humans, even speak to animals. They were Gods after all, they knew everything, they knew all.

    His eyes snapped open only after a little while after she had finished speaking. He eyed the girl, and he cast a brief glance at what she held. A smug smile settled on his face. A wine and a young maiden. Now as for that bull…

    Arneas cast a glance towards the altar in front of him where a couple of goblets stood. Very lightly, his finger made a gesture towards it. The wine was all good, but he would not drink it from a bottle. He wished it poured. He did not even bat an eye at the bandages (who were they kidding?, though it was kind of them to offer - also their job regardless), instead closing his eyes again. For all that time he did not move but his eyes and his finger. No need, but also he had no strength to waste.

    "Your name." Not a question, a soft demand though his voice was not harsh. Gods did not ask, they stated what they wanted and they were given it.
    July 10th, 2016 at 11:11pm
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    @ Ria Miku;
    Apollyon sat, tapping his fingers against the bones of his throne as the servants around him frenzied around the soft white orb that rested in the center of the room. He rolled his eyes, their incessant chatter and constant movement made his head hurt and hands throb with the need to silence them all; he just wanted silence. He closed his eyes, his head pounding - he was hungry and he had not left this room since the Goddess had arrived. Four days without anything to eat was difficult and he thought perhaps one of the servants would do for now, one less voice in the mass of demons so far beneath him. Their voices seemed to be getting louder and louder and he opened his eyes to speak to Priscilla just in time to see the orb burst open in a way that was only fit for a Goddess. He wanted to laugh as she emerged, killing a few of the voices that were bothering him anyway. He smirked and lifted himself from the throne, effectively silencing the crowd of demons surrounding the marble table.

    "Demon?" He said, raising a brow and cracking his knuckles. "Well, I do believe I deserve a bit more than that, don't you, dear?" He said, flicking his tongue at his term of endearment. He had brought her here, he had captured her and he could see, even if she glowered at him so fiercely, just how weak she was. She did not glow like the rest of the Gods, including Hades, but rather emitted a soft light. It almost made him detest her even more to look so innocent and yet so powerful and prestigious; she was everything he loathed about the Gods of the world. "I did, after all, capture you, even with your best defenses up."

    He waltzed from his throne, the lesser demons parting ways so he can reach her, like that one prophet so long ago that parted the seas. The servants all bowed at his feet, Apollyon would like to argue that his power rivaled that of Hades, in fact, and he deserved respect in his kingdom. "Let's get the simple introductions over with. My name, sweetness is Apollyon, the Destroyer." He smiled, which would have been handsome if one could not see the malicious intent behind it. He lifted his hand to her face and caressed her cheek, letting the smell of burning flesh and the sizzle of their contact fill the room. He groaned with the pleasure of the feeling as well as the knowledge that she had not a single move against him or the other demons in the room.

    "And I believe it will be a true pleasure to devour you."
    Aurora felt her stomach sinking further and further as she waited for him to stir and wondered if perhaps Georgia was wrong to send her to this God. She glanced back but the room was empty and the only noise was from her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She was distracted enough with her own anxiety that she almost didn't catch the subtle movement of his finger, indicating he wanted the wine poured. She felt a frown pulling at the side of her lips, was he so great that he could not even address her? She turned away from him, hoping he hadn't seen her displeasure and poured the wine into a goblet for him. With her back facing him, she heard him utter just two words to her and she again understood how women got in trouble with Gods. His voice was strong and echoed loudly around her, though he had barely spoken, and somehow his voice alone made her body feel warm and fuzzy, like the wool that lined her shoes; she could have melted like honey.

    Except, she was again disgruntled at how he demanded things. She wasn't sure why she was surprised by his behavior, she was nothing and he was a God. She was a piece in his game of life and soon he would leave here and forget of the little peasant girl with a sullen expression and wide gray eyes. She remembered the days at home when she was a force to be reckoned with: outspoken, fierce, desired. Back at home, she was not a peasant girl so easily forgotten, but rather someone who burned themselves into the hearts and minds of others. She missed that feeling, she missed who she once was.

    "What do you want it to be?" She muttered, the remark spilling out of her lips before she could stop it, distracted again by memories that haunt.

    While she could have gotten away with something like that before, it certainly would not be tolerated here. She wanted to kick herself once again, but she also felt resigned in whatever was to come next. She had promised that she would do her best to stay alive and to stay proud and she failed at one part of that. She did not even know who she was anymore and if this one sentence were to have her killed, at least she would die a semblance of who she once was.
    July 11th, 2016 at 01:08am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    The crowd silenced as he stood, and her eyes narrowed. Deserve more than that? Yune shuddered at the way he accented words, and curled her lip lightly in disgust, "Filth." All this hate and anger rolling like waves to hide her trembles inside. She was scared and, admittedly, every right to be. She was weakened and she was surrounded by a horde of demons of all different levels and strengths, and finally - one major. They all obediently split in front of him as he neared, and she felt the tremble increase in her all the more.

    "How funny," she returned, doing her best to keep her voice even, "So great to capture something that does not move." Against all her experience and all knew knowledge, she put words up. Although she knew it would not work, at this moment she thought - if she kept talking, maybe he'd be kept distracted, and she would buy herself time to find a way out. But the only thing that really caught her attention in this god forsaken dark room was the marble table. She knew it's purpose.

    Apollyon; she frowned at the name. Yune knew it, she knew not where from, but she had heard. Wasn't he a minor pest that Hades complained about? Somehow he didn't seem so minor now. Now he stood in front of her, so close her senses screamed to fight and kill, not run - no - she was a goddess of War. Gods of War did not run. But here she was, frozen in fear and eyes narrowed her breath unsteady. And he touched her cheek and it was foul. She tried to keep her composure, tried to glare him right back in the eye, but the moment he groaned in his pleasure, she couldn't handle it. Disgusting! Yune smacked his hand away, reflexes fast, only to return her hand to her side and swallow the sound of pain threatening to escape. She did not need to look to her hand to see it had been burnt at the contact, did not need a mirror to feel the wound on her cheek.

    Gripping the soft material beneath her with her hand, as she couldn't lash out in random bursts else she would tire, Yune pulled away from him, making some space. But her opened orb was only so big. There was only so far she could go. "I'll burn you to bits if you dare to try."

    It was then, she briefly wondered, in their own times of need and fear, who did a God pray to?
    Arneas opened an eye at her words. His wine had not come and neither had her reply save for a witty remark. This was, in his own experience and view, a surprise to him. Humans dared not talk back. They were silent and obedient and did everything as asked. Who was this girl to be so bold? But he did not hate for the attitude. This was a change, a change in pattern and treatment. He had always detested the way humans bowed like grass to the wind, very rarely showing their true selves. He was a God of War and he had them mow down each other but why? He never knew. Crusades, the better god wars, the war upon this castle or that castle, or to burn these villages or those - why? The elder gods scoffed at him when he asked, and few Gods helped each other out. The new gods grew up obnoxious and unaware and the elders struck them down like a man struck a weed with the scythe.

    You had to learn, to survive. Understand why, understand how. Knowing that, one would know what the people wanted, and thus could gift them and raise their love for one self. If you knew well enough, you could become the god of something else too, and have two titles. Perhaps, for him, he fancied the God of War and Plenty, or Wealth. He was not sure. But understanding people… that meant power. All Gods wanted power. Not names.

    He opened his other eye and now looked at the girl with both, studying her. She was pretty, for a human. "It can be Human, or it can be Servant." He looked at the goblet in her hand, would she ever bring that to him? "But you humans do not like those names. You have your own. I wish to know yours."

    It was rude for anyone to avoid questions from a God or conceal their names. Highly disrespectful. Perhaps even it was considered an honour if a God wanted to know your name. That, however, was made up by humans and Arneas could not understand why. Gods honestly did not care for a name, it was just better to refer than to 'human'. Slave was surely the last one. Only snobby gods addressed their believers like that, and often quickly lost them.

    It was also rude for anyone to give something directly to a God, considered highly disrespectful. This was also a human practice, most often practice with Kings and Queens and other nobility. For a God it did not matter, they just thought it was cute of humans to play servant. So they never fixed them, and humans went on practising it. With that in mind, Arneas looked back at the girl. There was a platter used to pass drinks lying nearby. Though he did not look at it, he looked the girl right into her eyes and into her very soul. Quite almost literally. It glowed. He was curious. What would she do? How bold and naive was she? The smile crawled its way back onto his lips. This was so very entertaining he almost forgot about the pain in his side.
    July 11th, 2016 at 02:12am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    @ Ria Miku;
    Apollyon relished in her disgust for him. In fact, for a demon it was powerful to be hated and to be feared. Gods gained power from respect and from followers, but demons like him gained power from things like the echo of pain in the Goddess’ eyes. People would soon forget her name, she would lose power the longer she was gone and the more scared she became, the more power he felt. He licked the blood that she had drawn from his hand with a smile; perhaps it would be fun to play with his food. “Temperamental,” he said, clicking his tongue a few times and casting a look of disdain.

    “Come now, friends,” he yelled, turning to face his congregation. “Let’s show our guest just how kind the underworld can be.” His servants seemed to jump with excitement at his words and he gestured to Priscilla, his tiny succubus. The Goddess pushed further back into her orb and despite the pain, his servants snatched the remnants of this from beneath her and pulled her towards the table. There was blood and screams and bursts of white light, but it simply was not enough. Priscilla had the ghost of a smile on her face and the chains in her hands rattled loudly as she clasped them on the Goddess with a laugh.

    Apollyon was enticed with how the metal sizzled against her skin and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride at his creation. He had created those chains himself, lacing each and every cuff with his own blood, sucking out her power every time she even thought about moving. He had not intended to use them, just to finish her as soon as she emerged, but she had made this encounter fun and he had not had fun in quite a long time. He watched, his white and red skin becoming covered in goosebumps every time that Priscilla laughed.

    “I wouldn’t move too much, love. Seems I’ve got you right where I want you,” he said, drifting back up to his throne. “Leave us,” he said and the congregation, though there were sounds of disappointment, exited the room.

    The only one who stayed was Priscilla, who seemed to dance around the marble table. Though she lived off the sexual energy, this kind of excitement would keep her sustained for a while. She pranced around the table, laughing and caressing the Goddess. She finally finished with her game and fell into a chair right beside Apollyon. Though she did not speak, her eyes were questioning: What will we do? What will we do with her?
    Aurora’s hands were shaking because she truly did not know how to recover from her mistake and she did not know where to proceed from here. She did not understand why Georgia had thrown her to the Gods like this, quite literally. She steadied herself by grasping the table, trying to gain composure before she turned around to look at him. She had no doubt that she would turn into a puddle of humanity when she looked at him and she wanted to make some sort of impression. She sucked in a depth breath, grabbing the goblet and turning to face him, but allowing herself to grasp the table to steady herself once more.

    She was tempted to test the waters again when he asked for her name, but she lost her train of thought when they locked eyes. What did he ask her again? She searched her mind. Oh yes, her name. What was it? Why couldn’t she remember? Is this how being God worked? Is this why humanity fell to their knees, literally, at their feet? Why were they all so feeble minded? Maybe he was right, maybe Human was a better way to be addressed. Your name, say your name. He’s asked for it.

    “Aurora,” she stated in response, finally breaking their eye contact. She stepped away from the table at last, bringing the glass to him and offering it. “I told you mine, you tell me yours,” she said, letting herself continue with the attitude that seemed to entice him. If anything, she felt an inexplicable desire to keep the smile on his face. She looked away, maybe that was the best way to control herself. She was reminded of the bag around her shoulder as she moved away from him.

    “I know that this is very, well, human of me, but I can stop the bleeding on most humans. I can only imagine how quickly it would work on someone like you,” she said and somehow her sentence ended with a sort of contempt. She did not mean it, she did not even know she felt so negatively about him. He was the first God she ever encountered before and she felt torn. Torn between a need to please and need to remain proud. She could no longer count how many times her father had whispered those words to her, but she could remember the way he struggled to say them with a knife in his stomach.
    July 11th, 2016 at 03:30am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    Yune held his gaze for as long as she could before he suddenly turned away and the servants became all excited. She watched in horror as they all reached to her and started pulling her towards the table. Yune fell into a frenzy, hitting and kicking and sending small bursts of holy light to them, burning and killing a few but not enough to lessen their numbers. The more they grabbed onto her, the more she struggled, burning their skin and burning her own skin. In a furious fit she screamed, thrashing as chains fell over her.

    These chains! What were they? She struggled, trying to pull them off. They burned so much, it was as if the demon himself had come and hugged her whilst unclothed and burned through everything. In that moment she was like a lion caught by nets, thrashing and full of energy, but not of the right energy to draw her sword from the light, nor to spread her glorious wings to blind them all. No, she could not do those.

    But the more she moved the more she realised that it was futile. With every little stir, they seeped energy from her, and finally she was there on the table, barely able to breathe, gasping for air. The demons had retreated, and she felt cold, so very cold, but wrapped in burning chains. She could feel the small puddle of blood beneath her on the table now, and that was the only other warmth that she felt. Everything else was cold. She heard his voice, somewhere far and distant. Her vision swam lightly and she kept her focus on to the ceiling. Breathe, and stay calm. There had to be a way out. She pulled at the chains. "What are these?" She demanded through teeth clenched in pain. She flicked a look at him, but wished not to see his face and looked away. "Are you going to muzzle me next?" Yune asked coldly. This perverted creepy demon!

    Then there was this little scoundrel, this little thing prancing around her and touching her, burning her skin. Yune had no strength to glare, instead silently vowing to kill her first. Hades… Hades… She had to get his help, but how to reach him? She shut her eyes, unknowingly muttering out loud, "Hades." Quietly, barely a breath.
    The tray was left abandoned it. Arneas watched her step closer, eyed the goblet before he took it from her and as she spoke, he took a sip of the wine to taste it. It wasn't too bad. He had better. Then again, there had been better temples. He set the goblet down and returned his look onto her. Aurora. A pretty name. There had been a goddess of exceptional beauty once, a goddess of dawn, named so. He had not met her, for this was long before his birth, but he heard she had fallen in love with a human male and spent her life with him, but he died and she stayed beautiful. Very lovingly, she killed herself in the end.

    "My name?" He raised a brow. Certainly this was a joke. This whole temple was dedicated to him, his name was carved at its entrance, his statues - though looking nothing like him - stood out front. He wished to lean forward to look closer into her eyes, but the pain in his side did not allow it. Instead, he tilted his head to one side, resting it almost on his shoulder. "This temple is dedicated to me, and you work here. Do you really not know it?"

    Of course, she had never seen him (at least that's what he thought, since he had never visited this temple in particular and he remembered every temple he had come to), and none of the statues looked like him, and any God could come here and feast too, although that would be highly rude and the owning God would come and rain destruction upon the intruder, but nevertheless. It was quite amusing.

    It was her offer that suddenly put him wary though. He was uncertain he was confident enough to allow a human so close. They were sinful, but not even that. Wielding the right blade, they could injure a god too. Humans had taken down a god before, but it wasn't that Arneas was afraid. He was young, he was wary. Could he trust her to be so close.

    The pain in his side made the decision for him. He looked away, leaning a little more onto his left - where there hadn't been as much injury. "On your life." If she tried anything, he'd kill her. There would be no hesitation. A human was nothing to him. He also wasn't all too confident that he wouldn't react to a flash of pain without a jerk that would kill her. She put her self in to danger here. If she prodded too hard, he just might unintentionally break her neck.

    Her risk. On her life. Behind her, he was aware of a few humans stopping to peep around, curious by their conversation and the length at which Aurora had spent by him. He did not look at them, almost encouraging them to stay and peep. Instead he watched the girl, her soft brown hair, her soft grey eyes.. Ferocious, proud… He had seen those somewhere.
    July 11th, 2016 at 04:24am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    @ Ria Miku;
    Apollyon almost chuckled at this Goddess’ internal struggle and even more so at how badly Priscilla wanted to kill her. It would not and could not be that simple, not anymore. Priscilla was anxious and excited but Apollyon stayed calm, watching them both with an intense interest for Priscilla could not resist the urge to torture, the urge to play and the urge to please him. She launched herself from the chair when the Goddess spat words at them both, just to get a closer look or a closer touch, to appraise the energy.

    “Muzzle you, pet?” He said, raising a brow. “Well I think that would very well ruin all the fun. Those chains, you see, are laced with my own blood. So try as you might, you are now… mine.” He clenched his teeth upon proclaiming his possession of her and it gave him a feeling he had not felt in a long time. He felt defensive of his shiny new property, she was a trophy to show all the others why he deserved the throne of the Underworld. To own something like her was to own power beyond compare and he wondered what Goddess she was; there were too many for Apollyon to keep track and they fought amongst themselves too often. They created demons themselves this way with their own hatred for each other, they brought about their destruction on their own.

    “What was that? Hades.. Oh Hades,” Priscilla said, dramatically. “Do you hear that Apollyon? She begs, she whimpers for a better God to save her.” Priscilla’s laugh echoed around the wall, the wicked little temptress that she was had made her the most perfect companion. Yet, what she said frustrated Apollyon. He casted a furious glance at Priscilla, silently excusing her and hoping she would return with something to eat. She left to Apollyon to his new trophy.

    Did this Goddess think that Hades was a better God, as if Hades was anything here in this Underworld aside from a coward. He was weak, he guarded human souls as if they mattered and tried to unsuccessfully control demons. He was an old God, stuck in the ways of past and his own arrogance would be his downfall. Apollyon was the future of the Underworld and everyone here knew it; he was untouchable. He was so far from Hades realm that he had functioned under the radar his entire existence.

    “Now, here’s a fun little game just for you and me. What do I get to do to you next?” He asked, chuckling.
    Aurora wanted to laugh because it was clear this God did not know how little she cared for her life, but nonetheless, she truly did not mean any harm. She glanced at the people who were laying gifts at the foot of the temple - more wine, plenty of corn and a bull had already been butchered. Clearly the people of this town did honor their God if they worked so quickly to fill this temple upon his arrival. She rummaged in her bag for sage and lavender as well as bandages crafted from the strongest cotton she could find in these parts.

    She moved gingerly, almost silently until she was kneeling by his side. “You’ll have to excuse me, I am not from here. I’ve been here only a few weeks. You were at war, so were the people who serve you. My village was caught in the middle,” she said, trying to muster up the courage to touch him.

    She looked down at her hands: dirt covered her nails and they were shaking. She had never touched a God, though not many people had, but more importantly she had never even touched a man. The blood that leaked from him was the only thing that looked human about him and she tried to focus on that. Blood, injuries and healing were what she understood, a task she was always successful in. She tried to focus not on who she was touching but rather on what she was trying to heal and that helped her muscles and fingers to know what to do next.

    “It has been a very long time since I have thought of Gods and Goddesses. My village, we did not worship, it was said we did not need to. If we were quiet and kind and self sufficient, we would be ignored. It worked for a very long time, but it did not work forever,” she said, as her hands worked slowly and carefully around the wound on his stomach. “I’m going to apply pressure now, but I’ll keep talking so just focus on that, yes?”

    She pushed the sage and lavender against his skin which felt inexplicably warm against the palms of her hands and she realized the warmth radiated from his blood. She then continued to pull a bandage tight around him. “Anyway, we were not equipped for war - we lost. I came here. This is the first time I have even stepped foot in this room. I apologize. I was skeptical of both the Gods existence as well as their interest in well, people like me.” Her story was short, but her hands were quick and she was done. She stood and stepped back.

    “I should go,” she said, wiping his blood on her skirt. “I don’t want to bother you and I’m sure there are others who want to see you. They have worshipped you for a long time.”
    July 11th, 2016 at 05:06am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    She almost regretted saying anything the moment that little pest of a succubus was upon her. She jerked away form her, but the girl demon was right there, all excitement and touch. Yune felt horrid. She wanted to bite back, to flash whatever light she could, to injure the little demon somehow, but there was no chance at that happening. Not in her state and not with these chains on.

    Yune listened as he explained, dread filling her entire being. Chains laced with his blood? He was smart. And that was dangerous. She felt all the more scared, but at the same time a little calmer. She now knew what these things were. Fear stemmed from the unknown. The more you know, the less you fear. Or something like that. She flinched at his possessive talk. How dare he? "I am not," she retorted, her voice firm and loud, "And will never be yours. I am a Goddess of War, I do not belong to anyone!" Not as long as she was alive.

    Her attention diverted to the girl demon as she that girl laughed and taunted, speaking the name Yune hadn't realised until now that she had uttered. She cursed quietly, re-oathing to kill the little bitch. She'd plunge her sword deep into her chest and rip her heart out if she had one. She'd slay her and cleanse the world of her existence. But not now… She rested, relaxing as she disappeared.

    Yune turned her head away while he chuckled. She wished to wash, she wished to change into better clothes - one that were not torn and blood stained, such trivial things compared to the ordeal she was going through. At least, she wanted some dignity back. Yune tugged at the chains, clenching her teeth as they burned more and weakened her. "Bathe," She muttered, casting a glance in his direction, "I want to bathe." A small pool, a cloth, anything. She wanted this blood off her. Blood on her made her look weak. She did not want it.

    As for what he wanted to do? She thought about it. Did she get a choice? "You don't get to do anything." She huffed and looked away, well aware that wasn't how prisoners worked, but hoping it'd throw him off. She kept to insisting though, "Blood is purest - I heard also more delicious - when it's clean. Let me bathe."
    He followed her gaze to the gifts at the stairs of the temple. A bull caught his eye. He licked his lips lightly, slowly running his tongue over them, eyes locked in on the meat. He wanted it. Now. A servant dared sneak a peek at him and he made them know he wanted that bull. They hurried up with the meat on a platter, bowing their head as they put it beside him, then hurried off, all giddy and excited. Arneas did not bat an eye, taking in the sight and fresh smell of the bull. Delicious.

    What was the girl saying? He looked over, "Arneas." She at least knew he was a God of War, a new god maybe not so. He did not care if her village was caught in the middle of it. That was luck not on her side. He answered prayers and lead the wars, he did not start them. He watched her hand near him, and tensed. It was not the pain he feared, it was her touch. A human's touch.

    "You think I cannot handle pain?" he looked at her, challenging but not threatening. In fact, a small smirk played on the corners of his lips again. To even think that he would need a distraction from a mere push against his wound when the wound's origin was far greater in the pain scale - he found it laughable.

    He had stopped her only once while she worked, pulling out a shard he felt in his side. It was made of a material only God's had crafted by the angels, and as it fell away, clinking and flicking droplets of blood down the stairs, he knew it would be picked up later. But it was that Goddesses' work. He grit his teeth, eyes darkening. She had the title he was born for, he would come and get it. No matter where she hid.

    "A non-believer," he finally concluded after her little story that had kept him mildly entertained. "Someone like you…" He narrowed his eyes. Did she know of the light that burned inside her? He hinted on it, though he had never met anyone like it nor had the confirmation, but he could sense something other than human in her. It was a light he knew because it was a light he grew up around. A god's light. Weak and dull as it was in her, mixed with humans' sin - despite all that it was there. That's what mattered.

    As she stepped back, he sharply reached out and grabbed her hand. He relaxed his grip almost instantly, suddenly aware of how small her arm was. He could have crushed that. Arneas shook his head and looked up at her. "No. Stay." She kept the others at bay. While she was here, few dared approach, and he did not wish of them to all flood the moment she was gone. He thought about another thing, looking away, "Does this temple have a room?" He wanted to rest.
    July 11th, 2016 at 06:23am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    Apollyon pondered this, the Goddess of War, what an interesting little catch he had. He wondered if there would be a way for her to useful to him, more than just a delicious snack. He smirked, of course her heart was already his and it would end that way, but maybe she would be more useful than he originally intended. Next to him sat a map of the Underworld and he glanced at it, feeling both proud and frustrated at the same time. He had conquered so much of it and it seemed that Hades kingdom was divided in half, though he was too dense to notice. There would come a time soon when they would meet and face off and he had to be ready, he had to have a plan.

    He had been widely successful in winning the hearts and loyalty of the demons around him. They worshipped at his feet and he suddenly understood why Gods and Goddesses enjoyed their power so much. He was kind to the demons, unlike Hades who looked down upon them with contempt and disgust. Apollyon raised them up, brought them back to power and allowed them free reign on the human world. He did not want demons to cower in the Underworld, but rather to be a force to be reckoned with. The sinfulness of humanity and the selfishness of the Gods was what created them and it was time both these groups realized just how powerful they were.

    Consumed in his own thoughts, he was barely listening to the pathetic whimpering of the Goddess on the table. She talked so boldly for a prisoner, did she not realize how much he enjoyed her pride? Did she think that this frightened him? Did she not realize that to him this was a full little game of cat and mouse? Apollyon was far stronger than any other demon she had every encountered before and he was far smarter, so her little games meant nothing him. He was even smart enough to live inside this human-like body so that he better resembled a God, though sometimes his skin itched to be released.

    He decided then not to respond to her, but to walk over to a basin in his throne room and grab a rag. He soaked it in water, scrubbing his own hands free of the dried blood from their previous encounter and then ringing out the rag so it was clean once more. “Yes,” he said, “I can certainly do that for you. I’ll try not to harm you.” With a rag in between their skin, he ran the water up her legs watching the dirt and blood rinse off her lightly glowing skin. She was, if anything, beautiful - even more so than his precious Priscilla.
    Aurora felt herself shrinking underneath his gaze, why would he look at her like that? As far as she understood, Gods took very little interest in humans except when they needed to be worshipped. Yet, she felt like he was analyzing her but she was simple now, she was nothing to be scrutinized. Everyone here had taken that away from her just weeks ago. Everything she understood about the world had shattered and this new world she lived in was far too big, far too complex and far too scary for her now.

    Aurora gasped when he grabbed her hand and felt her knees go a little weak at the contact, a feeling she did not understand. She was sure it was an honor to be touched, even this innocently by a God, and for a second she let herself enjoy the thought of that. He was young for a God, but what did that mean? 300 years or more? He had most definitely touched others before and yet, he was asking her to stay with him. Why? If he was looking for sex, he had clearly not taken a good look at her because she was covered in dirt and even her braids were messy and falling out. She should have actually taken the time to take a bath, a task she had not done in at least a few days, or brushed her hair. Georgia had tried her best, but Aurora really had no interest in her appearance any longer.

    The people in room were murmuring, casting cruel glances at her and making assumptions. They wanted to see their God and this little foreigner was in the way, the foreigner that Georgia had forced them to save. It was as if Arneas did not realize that she was hated enough in this temple. His hand slacked enough for her to pull her arm away from him, glancing nervously at the people that were beginning to gather just outside, their excited energy vibrating through the room as their voices seemed to be getting louder. They were anxious to see him and Aurora was not to have taken this long. In her quest to stay hidden, she took time to navigate the halls late at night and she nodded. “Yes, of course. Follow me,” Aurora said, tucking her hair and face back underneath her hood.

    Aurora was not sure why she was surprised by his size as he stood or the fact that his presence felt like thunder as they walked. After weeks of being here, she had perfected her ability to move like a shadow through the halls and while she remained like this, his presence casted an unwanted light onto her. She stopped at a door that was just two halls ways down and around a corner, looking back and feeling relief that no one had followed them. The last thing she wanted was to be cornered in this hallway alone. She pushed open the door, holding it open and letting Arneas move to the bed.

    The room was lit orange and pink from the sun setting through the windows and this lighting brought out all of his features and Aurora forced herself to look away. The room was dusty and had the smell that came with a door that had not been open in a long time. In fact, the only presence of life was Aurora’s own footprints from nights past, left in the dust that settled on the floor. The bed was huge, though big enough for Arneas and company (if he wanted it) and still shone with the gold it was made of. There were extra robes in the closet and a large couch as if he should be expecting company and parties to be held here. The door just past the bed was to the bathroom, where most of the room was in fact a large bath - much like a pond. “I can bring someone to clean this for you better or I can stay. The choice is yours,” she said, but he obviously knew that he would get whatever he wanted.
    July 11th, 2016 at 04:09pm
  • ashen knight;

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    When he did not respond, Yune cast a furious glance over her shoulder. She sat up, for the strength it took her, she would not lay down anymore. Was he to ignore her? How dare he, she would… Yune opened her mouth to shower him with abuse but he surprised her as he stood and agreed to let her bathe. It seemed too easy, and the catch that Yune looked for was in that he would bathe her. The rag came closer, her eyed relaxing a little in hope, and she stretched her hand for it, though it was avoided and instead the rag came into contact with her skin, his hand on the other side of it.

    A shiver ran down her spine. She was sure that cold shiver danced over to her legs and all the way to her toes. She had noted this shiver ever only on two occasions, when it was quiet and her mind was at peace to process it. When a man whom she would bed would touch her so, or when the most vilest of disgusting things would appear in front of her and she was defenceless - a rare case, but one that applied now.

    With an intense look, she watched him clean her leg, and the further up he got the more intense and hateful that look became. Near her mid thigh, Yune decide she wouldn't handle any more, and pulled her leg away, pushing the other one under the rag so that he would start cleaning that and leave her alone. Disgusting, perverted, filthy, creepy demon. Yune looked away, focusing on a map she saw by his throne, trying to memorise it, understand it.

    But at least he was removing dirt now, it felt much better. All those grubby paws of demons that had touched her, all that was being washed away, somewhat. If she could just pretend… Yune closed her eyes, trying her best to relax to calm her mind and racing heart. She focused on the feeling of the cloth against her skin and did her best to imagine that it was no demon touching her so but a servant, or an angel, or anyone much more cleaner and purer. She relaxed under those thoughts, her tremble went away for the most part.

    "And I want to eat," she breathed out after a while, opening her eyes again, "And to rest… in a bed." Surely he had some place to sleep? Surely he would not leave her here, for that little succubus of a demon and all her demon friends to touch. Yune felt a small rush of goosebumps just at the mere thought. Terrifying.
    Arneas was relieved to hear they had rooms, dismissing her small gasp but memorising it - he had not touched humans in a while. What sort of Temple would not have a room? A bad one, of course. He released her delicate little hand and stood, and he saw the clustered people turn all eyes on him. He looked to them, but not to each face - no, they would not receive his singular glance. They did not interest him. They had that sinful taint and human light, and none stood out.

    The halls were dark but it did not bother him, he saw well and fine, his sight much better than any human's. And the room? The room was… He glanced around, with no surprise but with no disappointment for he had expected it to be so elegant. It was not very well cared for obviously though, and that slightly annoyed him. Had these people little faith? He would need to build it. By visiting, he hoped to bless them with his mere presence. Hopefully they would strengthen their faith.

    He would not sleep in such a dusty room. With the strength he had, he summoned his sword, with a gentle utter, "Mir." The shining sword appeared in a flash of light in his hand, and it glowed, much like the sun. It was elegant, beautiful, craftsmanship of the Gods and Angels, glorious to man. It had delicate patterns running down its golden edges, but the middle was a shining silver. The hilt was just as golden, just as bright. Arneas brought it to level with a nearby cupboard.

    I declare war on the dust in this room… Destroy! (He couldn't help smirking at how funny that sounded). And with a single sweep of the sword, he displaced all the objects, and they momentarily went up into the air by a little, only to land back into their position without breaking. And suddenly the room was void of dust. He dismissed his sword, and it fell away into particles of light that scattered about the floor, glowed, pulsed and went out - disappearing completely. Only now, did he turn to the girl to consider her words. "Stay." He looked to the couch, one big enough for her to stretch out in. She kept the others away, he did not know why or how, but they did not come near. That would be useful, he wanted no strangers peering at him while he rested.

    He threw off his golden cloak, and it fell to the ground, disappearing into light particles and he took the outermost layer off, leaving it on the bed, before proceeding to the bathroom where he closed the door but not all the way, leaving some small gap. He was never fond of shut doors in unfamiliar places. There he stripped and bathed, washing away the dirt and blood but careful to keep the girl's strange herbs and bandages from being wet. The smaller cuts on his body were already healing. He returned to the bed room in nothing but his pants (they were miraculously clean again, but that just worked with begin God) and the linen robe to cover his wound. But his bare chest was exposed, and he had nothing to be shy of. He was a God of War, he was ripped as anything, his muscle's quite the fantasy of any man.

    "Go bathe," He told the girl - Aurora was it not? turning away from her to look out the window and admire the sunset, a sight he usually did from the clouds. It looked different from the ground, rarely he had the chance to see it.
    July 11th, 2016 at 07:40pm
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    Apollyon ran the rag up her legs and he smirked when she jerked her leg away from him. He would take his time, enjoying the way she held her breath at his every touch. She smelled wonderful and horrid all at the same time, though he was positive that part of that good smell was Priscilla’s own blood mingled here. He worked to clean her skin, moving around her body with slow and precise movements. He made an effort not to hurt her, but to make this process itself painfully slow.

    When he got to her face, he smirked at the cut he had burned into her cheek, that was slowly healing. He felt the urge to trace it again, let her cringe under the power he had over her. He felt an overwhelming desire to do more than just clean her, but he withheld. His most malicious desires needed to be under his control lest he was just another demon, a victim of his own whim. For now, it was important that she felt like she had a piece of herself and it was this piece that Apollyon truly enjoyed. He washed the dirt and blood from her face and smiled, “Better,” he stated, tossing the rag into across the room and back into the basin.

    “Well, my pet, I would like to eat too. What is it that you eat then? Priscilla is on her way back with someone delicious,” he stated, knowing that was exactly what his favorite servant would do to get back in his good graces. His mouth was dry and despite all the power he felt, it was feigned since he had not eaten in almost five days. His mouth watered with the prospect of food and he turned away, wiping his face and resting his hands on the table. Had it really been that long? Was he so distracted with his games that he would left himself weaken? That was foolish, not again. It would be fun to see the Goddess squirm while they had their meal. I’m sure she wouldn’t take too kindly how ravenously they were going to treat this human.

    “As for the bed, I think I like you exactly where you are,” he said, falling back onto his throne with an exasperated sigh.
    Aurora rested against the door, nervously twiddling her fingers and distracted again with her own thoughts. She jumped at the flash of light that filled the room and even more so at the gracefulness of his weapon. She felt her mouth fall open he the objects in the room moved and she pushed herself back against the wall like she could escape all the magic. The room felt cleaner and brighter and she could almost feel the pride and arrogance exuding from Arneas at this moment. He turned to her, uttered yet another demand which caused Aurora’s stomach to twist in a need to defy him - stay. He continued with his magical movements, removing his cloak in a flourish of light and she was both amazed and annoyed by all his antics. Is this what being a God was like? Was he doing it on purpose or was this just how he existed? He waltzed into the bathroom without even speaking and Aurora looked bewildered around the room, was she literally just suppose to stay here? She listened just outside the door, the murmurings of others trying to find them it seemed:

    I just don’t see why he’d disappear with that girl.

    There are far too many rooms in this temple.

    What do you think he’s going to do with her?


    Aurora’s breath hitched in her throat and she moved away from the door, to stand just next to the open bathroom door. If they came in here, she could easily slip into the bathroom and Arneas would be there which would be safe. Well no, it would be safer than to be alone with all those people whose hatred was now riddled with jealousy. She was frustrated again by Arneas and she felt an angry feeling settle into her stomach, it was like he wanted her to get hurt. She jumped when Arneas walked back in the room and her negative feelings inexplicably disappeared.

    He was so close to her and she was again distracted by his skin. He looked a lot better now, without the mud and the blood all over him. She felt all this heat radiating off of him and she had an urge to reach out a hand and touch him. He spoke then, another directive to go take a bath and she felt that sinking feeling in her stomach again but she just nodded and ducked into the bathroom either way.

    The bathroom was bright and smelled like soap and she dropped her dress on the floor before slipping in the bath tub that Arneas hadn’t drained before. She let herself soak and scrubbing away at the layers of dirt that she let accumulate over the past couple days. The soap smelled sweet and sultry at the same time and the warm water felt amazing against her skin. If she wasn’t so acutely aware of the literal God in the other room that caused her to hurry to finish her bath.

    When she got out, she slipped back into her dress from before, though that felt wrong somehow and caught her reflection in her mirror. She almost forgot what she looked like and she took a second to take in how different she looked from her memory. Her eyes looked duller, her face a little skinnier than she remembered and skin paler since it wasn’t sun kissed from the sun on the farm. She pulled her long black curls into a bun, trying to fix it to look just right and then dropped it suddenly. Why did she care how she looked? What did it matter? Arneas barely spoke to her, let alone looked at her. He wouldn’t notice if she did look good and what did she care anyway?

    She walked back into the room where the sun had finally set, the sky turning a soft and sleepy blue and Arneas still had his back turned. It was quiet though the traffic in this hallway picked up considerably outside the room and it was clear the people had found where they were. “That was lovely, thank you,” she muttered, shutting the door behind and breaking the stone cold silence of the room. He was still half-dressed and Aurora had to hide the blush that came to her cheeks. She could not find the balance between wanting to please him and being annoyed and unimpressed by him.
    July 11th, 2016 at 10:28pm
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    It was like he was enjoying making her suffer under his touch. Yune instantly caught herself, and corrected - he was was enjoying it, he was a demon. Demon's had that sadistic touch to them. She had unwillingly held her breath every time the rag touched down, and breathed very shallow while it stayed on, only resuming her normal breath once it was off and his hand was away. She could feel the heat of his hand even through the cloth. When he cleaned her face, she only fixed him with a firm look, holding her chin high. She would not cower, she would not cower… she would not… His eyes were most unsettling. She could see the turmoil of the demon further in, like a giant gaping hole of huge live black worms or something. Yune wanted to look away, hide and run, but she held it, tightening her lips into a line. He will not win.

    And certainly, she felt cleaner physically but she wanted to wash her soul free off him. His scent was everywhere now, cloth or no cloth. His presence was so close, she could feel her soul and aura had been tainted so much. She could only dream for holy water to cleanse. Blight was the last thing she wanted. No part of him could get inside, for while her skin protected her from any demon substance, if it were to go past her natural defences, she would be tainted. Blight ate away, slowly and painfully, far more worse than these chains.

    "What ever is not demon or rot is fine." She watched him move away, heart jumping at the mention of 'someone'. With all her heart she hoped it was no believer of hers. She could not lose their faith. Her number of followers was already small, she could not lose anymore. Deep in her heart, she wished it were Arneas' follower. Oh she wished. A little spark of hatred flared in her, but quickly she put it out. No need to feed the demon. She dared not think of how they would eat this 'someone'. Demons uncivilised, uncultured and had no manners. There would be no sacrifice, it would be brutal torture and murder. She looked down, and for the first time in her life, she felt she was ready to cry. Could God's cry? She didn't want to find out. Gripping the fabrics of her clothes, she took a breath, pushed away those horrible pesky feelings in her eyes.

    Yune watched him sit into his throne, anger rolling again. He was going to leave her here? She wanted to wring his neck no matter the burns it would do to her hands. But there was nothing in reach that she could throw at him. Yune was slowly losing her mind here. So many emotions were taking control. "You'd have your minions clamber all over me? Defile me?" She huffed again, turning away completely to not look at his horrible self.
    If he had really listened out, he would have sensed her negative emotions rolling all over, but he did not care to listen - a young and foolish god he was, with much to learn. But he heard those outside loud and clear. There was a mass of it, and it irritated him. By a miraculous touch of care, he managed to pick up that it irritated the girl too, even as she emerged from the bathroom looking considerably much better and cleaner. At least now he could tolerate this. Yes, tolerate. He confirmed it inside. She was a human. He had the company of a human with a strange light but a human nevertheless. Humans were to be tolerated and protected. Right? He didn't know what to say in response to her gratitude. He wasn't a god of bathing, and the bathe wasn't even made by him. Instead, he cast a glance at the door and the traffic behind it. "These people…" He had to tolerate them too, but not to the extent where they would so boldly infiltrate his sleeping quarters uninvited. He would only take so much boldness.

    Arneas stalked over to the door and opened it. The people almost fell in. He cast them a firm gaze and saw, with satisfaction, they all trembled - either in awe or guilt or fear. "Do you dare linger here?" The people muttered something like an apology and quickly scattered. He stayed until he was sure the last of them was gone from the hallway and stretched out his hand. "Ilris," he murmured. A small flash of light, and suddenly there was a golden lion in front of the door, standing there, ready to protect. Arneas gave it a small nod and shut the door. The lion would remain there, protect him from the curious onlookers and peepers. They could try with all their might to spear him but the lion's skin was impenetrable to human's weapons and moved faster than one could throw.

    However, summoning it did eat away some energy of his and Arneas returned to the bed, lying down with a soft sigh. He put his arms behind his head and looked up the canopy of the bed. The wound in his side ached, though it did not seem to bleed as much. Perhaps her strange herbs did work after all to cease the bleeding. He closed his eyes, pulling the covers over him. "You do not like it here?"

    From the little she had told him, and the envy behind the door moments ago, he started to piece together that perhaps there was a rocky relationship here between those servants and this girl. All the one, but why so hateful? Sure, he was a God of War, but wars were accompanied by the feelings of hate and envy, and other negative emotions, all which he could feel behind that door. It was as if they, those servants, waged a war on this one girl here. Why? He did not know. He never knew why a war truly started. He was young, had so much to learn.
    July 11th, 2016 at 11:47pm
  • oldbook;

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    Apollyon could sense her urgency, her fear and her anger all wrapped up in her core - deep and dark emotions invading her every sense. He smirked again, cracking his neck at how successful he was being. Gods clearly were not as powerful as everyone would like to think. After all, look how easily he had affected her, brought her down to his level. It wasn’t a challenge at all, it was a joy to level the playing field this way. How much longer before she was just like everyone else in his kingdom? Submissive, powerless, quiet…boring. He shuddered, maybe she would last a little longer than all these lesser beings.

    “Defile you? Clamber over you? Do you doubt me, love? My people are loyal. They will not touch what isn’t theirs,” he said, matter of factly. He knew this was true. Not only was it difficult to come into his throne room without permission, it would be equally as difficult to try to touch his trophy without his knowledge. She clearly did not understand all that he was capable of and he was still trying to sort out how to show her. He had started as such a simple demon - a bloodsucking bottom feeder, but he absorbed the powers of everyone he defeated thus giving him powers beyond her comprehension.

    “I think I’ll leave the defiling to myself, if you don’t mind,” he said, smugly.

    His head was still pounding though. He heard a familiar laugh off in the distance and he relaxed, knowing that soon the hunger would dissipate and the pain would go away. Priscilla waltz in the room, rocking unsteadily as she did, drugged by her encounters that had fed her enough to bring him something to eat. The man she dragged behind her looked lost and obedient to her, he stepped slowly, like a zombie, behind her and she skipped over to Apollyon's side, leaving her meal at the entrance of the room. She spyed the Goddess from the side of her cat like eyes, until she could drape herself all over him.

    “Do you see what I brought you?” She purred, practically curling into his chest. He nodded, too tired to play along with her for once in his long lifetime.

    “Yune,” the man said, his trance like state breaking, “Mou Yune.” My Yune, he said, dropping sharply to his knee. Apollyon glanced down at Priscilla, appreciating her even more today than he usually did. She had taken so long because she had been searching for something in particular. She was a sadistic little thing and she made sure to lock eyes with Goddess as her latest meal spoke.

    Apollyon stood, Priscilla sliding off his lap and stepping behind him, laughing again. “Yune, is it?” He asked, walking past the Goddess. “It’s very nice to be able to know your name, sweetness.” He let his calloced hands wrap around the neck of her worshipper, trying to decide between snapping his neck or sucking him free of all his blood. More importantly, he wanted to make sure she was watching. Hunger overwhelmed him and he sunk his teeth into the fragile human skin of her follower. He was lost in between the hot rush of blood, the screams and Priscilla’s resounding laughter.

    He came to when the body beneath him made a resounding thunk and Priscilla’s hands were at his face. She drew him closer and for a moment, Apollyon forgot about Yune. He was distracted and full of blood and energy and a different kind of thirst. His mistress licked the blood from his face, kissing him deeply. “She is stuck here,” she purred to him, “Let us go for now.” He nodded, casting a smile at Yune as they walked to his chambers. Tonight would be a night to celebrate.

    He would consider feeding her tomorrow.
    Aurora felt her stomach twist as Arneas became angered with the people hustling outside their door and she let herself slide down the wall. He was handling it obviously, but why? He clearly wanted quiet, he wanted to be alone except he made her stay here. Had he not taken an interest in her, she would still be hidden in the kitchen and everyone choosing to ignore her. She felt like she had a target on her back now. Even if she was safe for the moment, she knew Arneas would not stay here forever and she was certain that she would not make it long after he left.

    She was resting her head against her knees, her body pressed against the coldness of the marble floor and marble walls, trying to stop how much her body was sweating. Arneas too seem tired after conjuring whatever now stood in front of the door and he laid on the bed, making it creak under his weight. He looked comfortable, but she felt terrified and trapped in more ways than one. She wanted to leave, but felt she couldn’t - and not simply because he demanded she stay. What was it about her anyway?

    She lifted her head from her knees when he spoke to her, confused by the question. It was a flat question, as if he felt obligated to ask but had little interest in the answer. She felt it again, the anger in her stomach and the resentment for him. She let out a pained sort of laugh, the noise sounded weird tumbling from her lips but it also felt good. Not like it? There were so many things she wanted to say, so many words that she could barely sort out an answers. She hadn’t acknowledge how she felt until now.

    “Not like? I loathe it here. Where I am from people are good. These people they are filth,” she whispered. “They care for no one, they are angry. They pray to Gods like you, Gods of War, because they only care to conquer. They only care to expand their lands, imaginary lines that divide people. They know nothing of true humanity - they fight, they enjoy the merciless bloodshed of others.” She felt all this grief welling up inside her and tears stinging her eyes.

    “These people, they keep me because I am useful, but they hate me. I do not look like them or act like them. I knew compassion and freedom on the farm that I grew up on. I wear no chains, but I am a slave." Hot and angry tears poured down her face that she hadn’t even realized until the salty taste filled her mouth. She knocked her head back against the marble, pain vibrating through her being and it was surpassed by the pain she felt inside.

    “These are your people, Arneas. Perhaps you would understand if you took a second to meet them,” she spat at him.
    July 12th, 2016 at 12:34am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    In a way, Yune relaxed. At least filth would not disturb her and she could sleep for a little while and heal all the more. Perhaps she could save enough energy to summon her wings, or a sword, anything to break these chains and get out of here. His endearments unsettled her all the more though, and she wished he would not say such things. She only coldly looked at him and his smug voice, muttering, "Filth."

    If she had been more calm, she would have noticed he was uneasy, that maybe something was up and he was not in his best state. But her mind was loud with thoughts and her awareness levels had decreased, and she was careless, said before she thought. Everything wrong, everything she ought to not do.

    There was laughter, and the doors opened and Yune saw a man lead in. And when he recognised her, she understood. A believer. No! She didn't look to the succubus not to Apollyon, she was fixed on the state of this poor man, this man with a horrible fate. She clinked and clanked her chains, forcing herself to move closer as if to touch him, as if to promise him she will fight for him, but she could not give him such promises. He dropped to his knee as she neared the edge of the table, leaning in towards him, eyes wide and looking into his soul, lips parted and gently moving. She sensed his energy, he sensed hers.

    Your soul, I won't let them have it, I promise you-, She told him, filling his head with her voice best she could but it was hard. She was weak, and his mind was just as loud as hers. Panicked, scared. Then there was Apollyon, talking and his laughing filthy sidekick. She saw the hands, with their red twisitngs, go around the man's neck. More importantly, she saw the man's eyes widen in fear as his goddess could do nothing to save him. But she kept tugging for his soul, cooing into his head. And then Apollyon bit in, the man struggled and screamed. Yune didn't know what came over her either, she too jerked forward, as if that would help, but could do nothing but watch. Though as the man fell, she reached for him, then sharply withdrew her hand, and buried her hands into her chest, hunching over with a small shake of her shoulders. Gone. Just like that.

    But there was a warmth in her chest. The man's soul, she had it. She stayed hunched, letting the warmth spread through her, the energy in her rise just a little more. Priscilla's hands all over his face and he was distracted, Yune used that moment to edge away from the body back to the foot of the marble table, and bury her face into her knees, continuing to gently shake. There was a dull pain somewhere, awareness of one more life taken from her. And she waited for them to leave, and once the door shut, she launched herself to the body.

    Sure, he took all the blood, but the heart, the heart stayed. The Gods loved their hearts. She did not apologise to the dead body, no need. She had his soul, it was considered a willing sacrifice, and thus his body was hers to use. She ripped into his chest, clawed her way through until she had the heart in her hands, and retreated to the marble table, turning away from the carcass as she started on the heart, spilling the left over blood onto the table, knowing that whatever she ate now would be more than what she had lost to the chains. This would be neater had she a knife, but she had only her hands. After her meal, she closed her eyes and curled into a ball to restrain movement against the chains, and fell asleep, letting her healing take its role again. Gods were elegant and graceful in all but one thing. Their sacrifices were the bloodiest meals. It meant strength.

    Had the demon forgotten so?
    Arneas listened. Perhaps, for the first time he actually listened to what a human had to say about themselves, and not praises and not prayers, wishes or offers. It was not uncommon for Gods to mingle with humans and cause all sorts of mischief. He had already done that, twice in the past hundred years, but there was nothing super special about them. He would listen to ladies whinge about their husbands and complain about this or that, but he never really listened (only played with their hair), unless they spoke of him in particular.

    "Perhaps, you should pray to the God of Peace and Compromise," He retorted, frowning lightly. Was she accusing him of existing and causing wars? He was solely not responsible. Sure he lead them as did that other goddess, but he also had a battle with the God of Peace and Compromise, who currently wasn't very strong, to settle who would win over the prayer of the people. "I've had ten battles with him, I won eight." He looked in her general direction to find she was still on the floor.

    He smirked then, sat up so he could get a better look at her. "There was a goddess once. A Goddess of Glorious War, war and glory. Long before my time, they fought battles with honour, a whole ritual would happen before the battle, but now there is only bloodshed. What you people pray for is what your destiny will be. How you act, how you think, you birth us and we live on your morals. If the hearts of men are sinned, then the gods are dark."

    He snorted, shaking his head. "If I tell them not to kill, they will find another God. I do not command the wills of my people, I gift them." Humanity punished its own self, the gods never saw reason to interfere. Their own existence was at stake if they dared do so. He did not know why she did not understand, perhaps it was because she never believed in gods, nor did she care to possibly learn the history of gods. All these things were common knowledge, but perhaps not to a non-believer.

    Which made him question, if the light in her was so bright compared to other humans, why did she not believe? "You speak of others and their wars as if they are beneath you, but you have an equal turmoil inside." A war of emotions, a war of self being, self identity, all that sort of thing. He was no emotions-expert but he was well aware of conflict in her, and conflict was his birthright. "If you wear no chains, why do you not leave this place? What holds you here?"
    July 12th, 2016 at 01:25am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    Apollyon woke with a start, Priscilla curled against him and he loved the feeling of their skin against each others. Yet, he felt uneasy as if he had forgotten something. He stared into the night sky of the Underworld, opened up above his chambers, that swirled and shifted with its various levels of chaos. What was it that was nagging at him? Why was he awake in the middle of the night after a night of sex that should have wiped him out? He peeled himself away from Priscilla and walked slowly out of his chambers.

    He peeked his head around the corner and it seemed that she slept, the blood from his own massacre covering the floor. He was tired and he looked at the demons guarding the door. “Feel free to rough her up every few hours,” he muttered, sleepily, before staggering and falling back into bed.
    Aurora sighed, exhausted from trying to explain herself, “Even if I wanted to pray, for anything, I wouldn’t and couldn’t. I don’t know how and I’m not sure anyone is listening,” she whispered. Her town never needed anything, her family never needed anything but each other. To think of needing was more to think of wanting and she wanted nothing anymore. She felt numb to the world and even though this conversation sparked an interest in her she had not felt for a long time, she knew that it was as fleeting as holding sand in your hands. It would all eventually run out.

    She opened her eyes from where she sat and for once it felt like they were equal and yet, so different. They were two souls, sitting and trying to understand the other in the dark. Somehow in the quiet and blanket of the night, they found a commonality in which to speak and she wondered if this was usual behavior for him. She tried and tried, but she didn’t understand anything he said. It seemed like a circle that no one could break and that no one could understand: Gods were trapped to please the people, even if they knew better and the people were trapped in thinking they served the Gods. It didn’t make any sense. She clearly had to believe now, as a God sat in front of her, but that did not mean she had to believe all of it.

    She felt frustrated by his supposed all-knowing nature and how he felt he knew her when he had barely listened to her until now. But more importantly, why was he acting like he understood her ‘inner turmoil?’ “You don’t know anything about me. Where would you like for me to go?” She said, practically laughing. He could go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted, but she needed to eat and to survive. She had no options. At least here she had a bed and food, though she was no longer sure that would be true. She yawned, the night weighing on her, and the salt tears dried on her face, stretching it out.
    July 12th, 2016 at 04:14am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    How long had she spent in this darkness? Yune did not know. She wished for her orb, but as long as these chains were around her she could not summon it. What would happen if she did? Would Apollyon try to break it? She stifled a laugh. He could try. Though at the same time she was uneasy. How powerful was he? She did not know. Judging by the map by his throne that she stole looks at and could see clearly in the light of the one candle by the door, he had quite the area. Which meant only one thing.

    Yune drifted off to sleep and awoke, and the cycle repeated. Guards would come in now and then and make noise, and she'd glower at them. She bet everything she had that Apollyon sent them in. She'd make him pay. Somehow. The heart she had eaten (and the body lay on its side, back to the door so the carcass's open chest could not be seen) had satisfied her. Yune felt a little stronger. Should a few pesky demons try touching her, she'd turn them to ash and dust.
    Arneas couldn't help her there. He was too young for such answers. Perhaps an older god could help her with her spiritual beliefs. From behind the door he heard Ilris growl softly and a quick patter of steps as they ran away. He praised the golden lion mentally for keeping the peepers away. Turning to Aurora, Arneas raised a brow. Where to go? "You have a whole world, no? Do you not want to see water fall from the highest of cliffs, or the dancing lights in the sky? You humans go so far from home and over many seas and through many storms to see things and marvel at them." He rubbed his cheek.

    The darkness was lulling him into sleep. His mind was quite a mess, and the wine from earlier had had its little effect and he was feeling slightly woozy and all the more sleepy. He was only barely aware that the girl was still on the other side of the room and not pouncing into bed or making excuses to get into it. Usually most women did that. They only ever wanted one thing from him, and he was fine with it. To them, the feeling was mutual.

    Arneas stretched. "Sleep; the morning mind speaks clearer." He turned away, ending their conversation. He had nothing to say to her. And he was spent. The wound in his side throbbed, and he wished to forget about it. Closing his eyes, he succumbed to this humane sleep that even Gods needed once in a while. If she tried anything funny, he'd sense it before she could even get near him, and if she tried to leave she'd have to sneak past Ilris, which was impossible. For now, she was only able to remain here - he was sure of it.

    The morning came and with sunrise Arneas woke up, although he woke up with a new someone in this room. He started, wondering how they could have gotten past Ilris, but relaxed seeing a familiar face. "Ariel," he spoke and the angel grinned. It hovered over Aurora, resting its head on its hands and in a sort of lying down position.

    "She's a pretty one. Glows like stars." Ariel cooed, watching the girl. "I usually find them in your bed, Arneas." In everything, the angel looked like a young boy. He had light brown hair, and cheerful but mischievous hazel eyes. His face was mostly round and soft featured, and small light freckles decorated his plump cheeks.
    July 12th, 2016 at 05:11am
  • oldbook;

    oldbook; (100)

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    Apollyon felt refreshed and ready for the rest of the day with his new prize after his long night of sleep. He woke and ran his hands along the curves of Priscilla, nipping her neck and ear to wake her. The succubus groaned, pulling his soft sheets over her and turning. He huffed, clearly she was not going to entertain him this morning and he must find something else to occupy his morning. He sat up, pulling on his pants made of the strongest leather and tugging on his robe. He was disrupted by a knock on his door and he answered with a disgruntled groan.

    “My lord,” a servant said, dropping the carcass with its chest ripped open just outside his door. Apollyon ran his hands over his face. How could he be so stupid to leave the body for her? He thought the body was far enough away and more importantly, he was distracted by the body that presently laid in his bed. It was stupid for him to have done that and he felt relieved to know that there were not any reports of demons dying at her freshly charged hands.

    “Fuck,” he spat, as he finished wrapping his robe around him.

    The underworld was sleepy while the rest of the world was just now waking up and he wondered if Yune would be awake or sleeping. He walked into the chambers, relieved to see his chains were still in tact. He could not and would not allow for this to happen to him again, but like any good ruler he would learn and grow from this. His throne room was quiet, Yune seemed to be sleeping and the innocence of it all made his stomach churn as she was curled so softly in a ball.

    He growled, his teeth gleaming in the fire light, looking at her perched on his table covered in the blood from the previous night. He was happy she was sleeping, glad to have woken before her, and he paced around the table thinking. He was angry, no he was full of rage and he felt annoyed even by her presence in this room. He stopped on the side where both her perfectly manicured hands rested as she slept.

    He grabbed them both now, waking her with a shock of pain, he was sure. He opened her closed position and slammed her hands against the marble slab she rested on and laying her out like the prophet on the cross himself. “Wake up,” he snarled, the sizzling of their contact only aiding to his anger and letting the smell of burning flesh flood his nostrils. He jumped back, smearing the blood on his hands across his face in most animalistic fashion.

    “I hope you enjoyed your meal, it will be the last one you have from here on out. Do you understand me?” He spat at her through clenched teeth.
    Aurora stared at the smoothness of the skin on his back after he turned from her, admiring how the moon shone against his skin. She felt glued to the spot on the floor, stuck in a puddle of her own emotions and lack of motivation to even lift herself from the cool marble floor. She was tired, exhausted from her girlish crying and from her own internal rage, but yet she could not sleep. She enjoyed the glinting of the stars through the window and she knew that she could not rest here and she also knew she would not be able to return to her own bed.

    Her legs were shaky as she stood, padding across the floor to the large couch. She laid down, pulling the multitude of pillows close to her body as if they were a blanket. It was not her own, but it far more comfortable than the cot she called her bed. She longed for a blanket, but enjoyed the scent of down feathers and the feeling of the silk against her skin. Her tiny frame barely filled the couch, which seemed to be larger than the bed, and let herself sink into its comfort. She wanted to sleep and she tried to count the stars until exhaustion overtook her.

    Aurora had a restless night, filled with flashes of memories that were twisted and exaggerated turning into nightmares that left her sleep far from rejuvenating. Aurora woke not at first light, but rather due to the murmured voices that seemed to be echoing above her. She tossed and turned, trying to find comfort and silence despite the speaking that seemed to surround her. The kitchen was never this loud so early in the morning, she thought, but then her hand fell onto a soft silk pillow and she remembered where she was.

    She sat up slowly, stretching and groaning with her eyes closed, as if to announce that she was awake. She felt like there was nothing a God could talk about that wasn’t important and so, she wanted them to know she was listening. She opened her eyes to see a boy hovering just above her and she squealed with surprise. But no, it wasn’t a boy for he was hovering above her and he looked far too innocent to be human. An angel? She thought, another thing she barely believed in, but yet here he was. In her sleep, her blood stained dress had loosened and fallen off her shoulders and she pulled it tight around her body. She felt disoriented, more so than any other morning, and she had distinct memories of her first few nights sleeping on Georgia’s extra cot.

    She suddenly felt awkward and exposed in the harsh light of the morning, her skin white washed by the sun and her eyes heavy with a lack of sleep. She felt the tension in whatever conversation she had interrupted. “Good morning,” she muttered, moving her many curls to cover her bare shoulders.
    July 12th, 2016 at 05:52am
  • oldbook;

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    July 12th, 2016 at 05:53am