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Sin Eaters

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#21
Irajah Ven

Irajah Ven

    Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News

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"If I only got the answers I wanted, then what would be the point in asking at all?"

 

A playful smirk ghosted over her lips. She let him draw her closer, turning her head slightly to keep eyes focused out on the city below them. But her hands slipped reflexively up his arms, coming to rest just above the insides of his elbows, thumb curling ever so slightly to the inside grip. His breath was warmer on her skin than even the rain, and she closed her eyes, breathing in for a moment, deep and taking in the scent of him. It was there, beneath the ozone and damp of the air. Earthen and warm, traces of rust that no rain could ever wash away. She breathed in deeply against his chest, washed in rain and memories of an evening.....

 

Until he took the rain away and left only that night.

 

"I'll hold you to that," she said softly, echoing back. "And when the time comes I want you at my side."

 

Face brought up, also as he had then, and he found a certain glimmer in those eyes again. A crinkle at the corners. 

 

"Do you remember what I hoped to repeat? I'm wondering if you still think they are worth earning."

 

Her hand paused before tracking back down to his. She brought the blackened hand, nails trailing over a particular bruise, wrapped around her forearm one that had been absent at the beginning of the night, to a stop. 

 

"Not all of them I'll be giving up," she breathed. "Some of them I hope to repeat." 

 

He'd left that, already welling to the surface against pale skin, not ten minutes before. When he had drawn her into the alcove, hand wrapped around her arm. She bruised easily and quickly now, but-

 

"And when that time comes, you'll simply have to work harder for them."

 

There was mischief now in those hazel eyes, a challenge and a promise, if he wanted them. But that was for the future, once she had fought tooth and claw for yes, but it wasn't now. It wasn't this moment, and in truth, Irajah didn't have much room to live far beyond the now. 

 

She didn't wait. Fingers curling between his, pressing the palm of his injured hand against her own, she rose up on her toes and brought her mouth against his. 

 

Right now, all she could do on that path toward vengeance was not allow a silly little thing like death to take more from her than she was willing to give. 

 

Reverance


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#22
Reverance

Reverance

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There it was. That hint of what he saw in the night, a shadow of her former self lurking beneath ever deepening oceans of hazel. Dark, glinting in the low grey light, brought to view with every snap of lightning. The sound gave him thoughts of a small place, where they both could persist, beneath a low overhanging canopy - softly patted by the falling rain. His blackened hand, just as before, turned inward and glanced across the phantom remnants of her former pain and affliction. As if, with just mild abrasion, the flakes of foundation might fall away to reveal them sitting there. Present and persisting

 

"They will always be worth earning...perhaps more than ever."

 

His hands moved down hers, shirking away the mild grip she found in the bends of his elbow. Or perhaps, he instead simply enticed them to firmer purchase. With a flex of his muscles, corded twitch reaction that could be felt through simple touch, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted. With a twist, she was suddenly not standing, instead sitting on the narrow railing that looked outwards to New City. A precarious position, one that demanded trust and consent. With the shield still flickering above, he leaned forward, hands gripping her legs far harder than what was needed.

 

"Perhaps you could remind me of these hopes..." He was all too aware of her inclination, of the matter she spoke. And with a sarcastic smirk, half lips and half teeth, he made that acknowledgment as plain as day. With a firm hold of her, he leaned forward ever more, dragging his nose along the wet rivulets of rain that ran down the formerly apparent trails of branching lightning. Memories flashed of a red eyed sith pure blood, anger shown in indifference, through causality tied directly to defiance. Her defiance. Defiance of power, defiance of death, defiance of anything that caught the flicker of her anger. He took in the smell of that, the warmth radiating from pale flesh, as he made every promise that was needed. 

 

To stand with her, dripping in the slicked blood of vengeance. To play whipping boy, when her desire for vengeance couldn't be sated. To scar and bruise this ivory flesh in all the ways she wanted. It was only through feeling, through the zenith of suffering and comfort, that growth would be obtained. And that was the surest path towards retribution.

 

Irajah Ven



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#23
Irajah Ven

Irajah Ven

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There were no hidden bruises beneath the façade of perfect flesh. No secret scars, no physical traces of lightening scars in delicate branching. But the memories were there, blunted now by other moments in time, beneath the surface and waiting. 

 

Her hands did tighten on his arms, fingers digging in when he unexpectedly lifted her. Reaction, instantaneous and tight chested cracking the ice surface hard ​with gasp and grip as he set her on that precarious perch. Heels braced on the bars beneath the railing, hands tight enough that they might hurt someone other than who this was beneath them. She balanced by the pressure of his hands, a counter weight on her thighs teetering the fulcrum of her body. But she did let him, did not fight it, but her grip on his arms stayed tight because she couldn't not

 

Especially when he gripped harder and leaned in. 

 

She closed her eyes, lips parting as her head tilted back slightly. Trusting him. Trusting the grip of his hands hard around her thighs. Just enough to upset the equilibrium and garner her a tightening from him to keep the center of balance steady. There was trust there. Consent. Because if he let go suddenly, there was nothing but air and a twenty story drop at her back. There was also growing invitation in the sharpness of breath and fingers digging into his arms. 

 

"Lover's bruises," she whispered, lowering her head, dark hair falling around both of them. She murmured into his hair where his bent over her arm, nose tracing lines that no longer existed. "Invited pain and pleasure, alternated or together."

 

She'd wanted to be rid of the pain of Gideon. And without it, she knew freedom. But also the cage of the edges of a body that had no memories of flesh. 

 

"Of teeth," came the breath of her voice in his hair. "Hunger and thirst and the goodness that comes from sating them, even if they both only come again and again and again. Marked and remembered, for an hour, a day, until the galaxy grows cold and still."

 

Reverance


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#24
Reverance

Reverance

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Every edge spoke of a duality. The very thing that might offer balance, sure footing upon Shrike Mountain, might cut the soles with each step. Or the balcony she rested on, offering leverage and peril upon the same surface. Words uttered, spoken from the crescendo of risk and sensuality, hinted at such notions. That with the bleak, comes the bright. Within the folds of agony, she could escape her plight. Indifference, like a weight cape that was dragged out from the darkness, could be undone with a kind bruise or shallow cut. By her hand or upon it, it didn't seem to matter.

 

Like a glacier adrift among the deepest of oceans, it now eroded beneath the burden of rain and thawed with the promise of salt. Her hair moved over him, draping him in the very length she once wore to conceal her wounds - except on the nights when it mattered. And now, it grew because it didn't matter, there was nothing left to hide. Her body, like a thousand words written across darkened eyes, had consumed those wounds to become something else.

 

"Lovers bruises..." He gripped her thighs harder, pulling inward to find stable position between clamped knees. Barring teeth, hair slick with the rain and hanging over his face, he bit down against the arch of her shoulder - hard enough to bruise, at the very least. "Teeth." Words lifted against the tug of her skin as he spoke, leaving the bite with a lasting kiss. "Lips and blood."  

 

He moved a hand up the white of her dress, finding comfortable spot at the arch of her back. Pressing her towards him, the rain spattering heavily against the shield with a dangerously close arch of lightning, he lifted his face to match her gaze. "Hunger and thirst, persistent and without sating...I could want for nothing more."

 

Pain and pleasure, intertwined.

 

Marked and remembered, endless.

 

Eternities spent in the wave.

 

"These are hopes worth pursuing..." A smirk followed the statement as he leaned forward, kissing her for the first time since she had returned from death. To truly kiss her, that melody and rhythm that could be replicated with hands hovering over the piano and skin pressed against a metal table. 

 

Irajah Ven



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