RPG The Children of Loloth (Maturity Restrictions Enforced)

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: Is it just me, or is it becoming abundantly clear why Raiha started this rpg... She wasn't exactly subtle about it.

IC: Kynjaka: You did, after all, offer.

Vondeux: Oh?

Kynjaka: I know the mores of your culture remember. You basically demanded.

Vondeux: And you should, after all, aquiese to my demands.

[I]He smiled, and slowly raked his panther claws down her back, twin reds lines opening parallel to her spine. His hands reached under her arms and picked her up. She waited, fearlessly in his grasp, while he looked her over, his eyes a swirling purple with emotion now. He was obviously...interested. He threw her down on the bed, and looked down at her, fanged grin rather encouraging, all things considered. When he spoke though, his voice was emotionless.[/I]

Kynjaka: Your call, [I]priestess[/I].[/font][/color]

[Yoda]

Xouzin exited the vaults, waiting at the door until he was certain that the sentry had locked it securely. Then, proceeding through a series of pitch-black caverns, he made his way back to the foyer. As much satisfaction as he took from knowing his Shagress was safe... these times of calm always agitated him. Over the years he had been conditioned not to feel fear, sorrow, envy, or joy. The only emotions he had harnessed were his anger, and such other things connected to one's pride. He still, however, felt a thrill in battle. In knowing he was better than an opponent, and by proving so in a very [I]final[/I] way.

With a sigh, he walked to the exit of the lair, and approached the guard standing at the door, who was looking out into the cavern ahead.

[B]Xouzin:[/B] Any trouble?

[B]Guard:[/B] No sir.

[B]Xouzin:[/B] Shame...

[B]Guard:[/B] A shame, sir?

[B]Xouzin:[/B] Yes... I am quite in the mood for a fight.

[B]Guard:[/B] I know what you mean sir.

Xouzin nodded to the guard, and walked out into the cavern. He walked for a short distance, when he spotted a group of teens joking about in the street. All of them carried weapons, but most were crude knives or broken rapiers. One of them noticed Xouzin, and his grin faded.

[B]Teen:[/B] Hey, aren't you Xouzin, one of Vondeux's guards...

Already anger was beginning to course through his veins. The one thing that angered him most, was disrespect to his Shagress.

[B]Xouzin:[/B] You will refer to her as Shagress Vondeux, boy.

[B]Teen:[/B] Whatever...

Before the teen could say anymore, Xouzin had drawn his rapier, and it was now pressed against the teens neck. Only the slightest application of pressure, and his windpipe, as well as his jugular, would be slashed. A few of the teens had drawn their... weapons, but Xouzin paid them no attention.

[B]Xouzin:[/B] No, not 'whatever'. Harbor no illusions child, make me angry, and I will kill you, and all your friends. I am in no mood to put up with such insulence.

[B]Teen:[/B] Okay... I-I'm sorry.

Xouzin sighed. He had hoped that the boy and his friends would attack. Yes, they would die... but atleast they would have some honour. This was just cowardly. He lowered his rapier to his side, but did not sheath it. He turned his back on the group and walked away.

[B]Teen:[/B] Who does he think he i-

The boy did not finish his sentence... as a rapier came suddenly out of nowhere, driving through the center of his cranium. Xouzin stood motionlessely, his arm previously holding his sword now extended fully towards the boy. The boy's legs, now purged of life, gave way, as he collapsed limply, letting out his last breath. Blood streamed down his face, over his eyes, and into his gaping mouth.

Xouzin waited, perfectly still, to see what the group would do. They would either charge him, or run... as he had to move into them to get his sword back anyway. Obviously not valuing their friends life all too much, they chose to run. Seeing such little pride made Xouzin feel sick. He walked slowly over to the corpse of the boy, a look of disgust still evident on his face. He ripped the rapier out through the top of the boy's skull, sending blood, chunks of bone and brain splattering across the floor. Xouzin wiped his blade clean on the boy's shirt, sheathed it, and walked away.

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]Naw, I wouldn't say abundantly. Remember, these delightfully useful slaves of mine VOLUNTEERED. I had nothing to do with it.... Part of drow culture anyways.
~~~~~~~
[i]She stretched out the kinks in her back, then she bared her own talons and pointed one at him in a rather sexy "come-here" gesture. To resist would be useless.....his emotions werescreaming in his ears. He gave in.

She half rose to her elbow, one hand reaching for him, pulling her down to her side, the bed large enough to accomidate his frame... She curled up into his arms, head resting just beneath his throat. He looked at her wall hanging absentmindedly....stroking her hair with talons. It was a picture of the underdragon, with a female and her spider companion on his back. ......some symbolism he was missing here. Then again, he wasn't exactly a drow himself. He shook his head slightly, only to have it pulled down to her. She kissed him, tongue feeling the points of his fangs, drawing blood on his lower lip with her own....

Out of the corner of her mind, she could feel Ariel questioning.....asking. She winked at the wall hanging he had been studying earlier. The dragon's eyes glowed, offering Ariel a picture in her mind. She was old enough....time to learn. Not firsthand, that would be later.

But for now, there was plenty of time to watch. For once.[/i][/COLOR]

[Sui Generis]

[i]Karanzyr walked in front Rhain ignoring the escort, well the offer for an escort. Something inside him tugged at his heart making him more enraged. The familiar emotion was sparked by something. Something Karanzyr couldn't put his finger on. This as well made the drow warrior increasingly worse. As he walked he squeezed his hands into tight fists ignoring the blood that ran from his palms.

A young white elf wondered the halls absent mindedly. He smiled knowing that his master was safe and happy. His smile quickly faded as he saw a drow, obivously warrior, turned the corner to the hall that the young white elf was in. Something about the drow made the young elf un-easy. The elf took a step back from the drow as if the anger inside the drow was flowing into the halls itself attempting to consume everything with its powerful grips.

Karanzyr consumed in his rage did not even notice the elf that had been strolling merrily through the halls of the great mansion. He continued walking letting his thoughts fly freely through his head, for the first time he could remember. However dangerouse it was to allow his true emotions and thoughts free he didn't care. Rage, confusion, jealouse, and pain, all these emotions surged through the drow showing outwardly in his contorted face and body language.

Karanzyr slammed into something. For a moment Karazyr did not recognize what or whom he had hit but soon realized it was an elf slightly smaller than him, and even in the infrared spectrum the elf appeared white. Slightly un-common but not a suprising thing for a drow to see, Karanzyr recognized it instantly for a white elf. Known for theirs talents at pleasing any and every fantasy you could imagine. He stared at the elf for a moment wondering how many times the elf had seen the room of the Shagress, something Karanzyr had never been permitted to do. He clenched his hands tighter and walked past the elf without offerng an apology nor a second glance.

Karanzyr felt something cool running over his fingers and gathering up on his knuckles. He then heard the soft plop the liquid made when it hit the stone floor. For the first time that day he had realized he was bleeding. He let his hands drop limply out of their fists and studied his hands. They were bright with the heat of fresh blood covering them. He smiled more amused than anything else. His face twisted again and a roll of desperation rolled over the drow. He winced as the word hit him once again. Thats all he was...a tool. A tool for the arena, a tool for his deity, a tool for the Shagress, and a tool for other's amusement.

Was he left to living like this? Was that all he was ment for? A gladiator....a "Bedroom partner".... a tool. The third choice rang out from his lips. The word bounced around on the stone walls relentlessly attacking the drow. Each time the wound grew deeper and more painful.

This thought had never protruded his mind before, had never entered the drow's simple life. He had accepted his fate as his fate, he was born to do what he was trained to do, nothing more. He had not once thought of himself, why would such thoughts come about now? He attempted to shrug them off yet the picture of the white elf entered his mind again. So happy, so eager to please, and yet still free. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His thoughts mocked him, his emotions prodded him like a dagger re-opening old wounds that had long been forgotten.

He looked up again to see he was at the entrance of his "living quaters." The female drow had long since departed to her own mansion to rest. Karanzyr was thank ful for that, for if she had even sensed his emotions she surely would have whipped him with out hesitation. Such thoughts were considered blasfemouse in drow society. That in itself didn't make sense however. If drow soceity was entirely based on deceit, lust, and power then how could his thoughts go against these beliefs.

He slammed his fist against the stone wall feeling his knuckle shudder slightly and give way. The knuckle then cracked down the middle and became to parts ending with a sudden "snap." Karanzyr paid no head to his broken bone and continued to punch the wall. By the time he was done the wall as well as his hand was covered in blood. He could no longer decipher his ebony skin from the blood that had stained his hand. He watched his hand as it trembled slightly. So many deaths had been brought prematurely because of that hand, what would another hurt. He looked at his sword longely but knew he would not, that would be letting the Shagress win, something he did not plan on letting happen.

He leaned against the blood on the wall and slowly slid down till he felt the cool rock under neath him. He must've looked pathetic at that moment, but he didn't care. He sat there blankly not thinking for several hours before he admitted his fatigue and leaned his head against the wall.

In the same, fetal, position the mighty Karanzyr the un-defeated stayed the rest of the night. Not sleeping nor awake.[/i]

[Revelation]

[size=1][i]Ariel noticed something flicker in her mind. She walked over and sat down on her bed, staring at her large mirror. The mirror provided a reflection of what was in her mind. The image was starting to become clear. She saw two bodies, one larger than the other. It seemed that one was a demon and the other a drow. Soon, everything was seen. She could see that the drow looked vageuly familiar. Ariel looked closer and soon found out that it was Vondeux. Vondeux had ways of teaching Ariel many things, and she also knew of ways to answer her questions. Vondeux must have heard Ariel's questionings and wanted to show her. Ariel knew that Vondeux wouldn't let her experience it firsthand, but to let her see what it was like was good enough. Ariel kept watching, knowing that she would have to experience this as well.[/size][/i]

[size=1][color=indigo]"Hmmm, I wonder. How can this...demon give pleasure to such a smaller figure than it? How can this demon want to fulfill Vondeux's lust? Could the demon also be wanting it too? So many questions, so many questions. All I can do is watch and ask later...when there is time."[/size][/color]

[Corey]

I ran around the city. Confused and dazed. Something had happened. Something unthinkable. Something...

[b]Esrie-[/b] "Dirty..." My mind reeled. I touched my face and felt the unfamiliar texture of dirt. Why was I dirty? I was a White Elf. Something to be treasured. Something to be used. I wasn't supposed to be dirty.

[b]Drow Woman-[/b] "Are you ok?" I looked into the purle eyes of the woman. She looked sincerely concerned. I rubbed the side of my face absentmindedly.

[b]Esrie-[/b] "I'm not right... This isn't right." I stood and began walking. Where was I? I was outside of the mansion. Not good. It was against the rules. I was disobeying my Mistress. Not good... Not good... "Not good..." I walked absentmindedly back to the mansion.

[Decadence]

[color=silver] The new matron... She was becoming obsessive. He held no illusions that she actually cared for him. She was just using him and would dispose of him when she grew board. He was going to die sooner or later, later being the preference.

He was growing board with his life. No houses had fallen out of favor with Lolth lately meaning there were no house wars. He wanted to spill the blood of other drow badly, but he did not want to anger Lolth, he still wasn't sure if he was in her favor after killing his former matron.

his thoughts were interrupted by a slave one of the houses messengers.
"drashil" he said slightly out of breath "matron phixia wants to see you."

[i]"Again?"[/i] he said under his breath "fine, fine" he said waving the slave off.

he walked back slowly. It wasn't that it was a bad place to be, he was still the house weapons master, but it was becoming rather tiresome to have to heed her every call. But she didn't strike him like the former matron so he would put up with her.

his thoughts wandered as he wandered back to the compound.[/color]

[Ravenstorture]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Their paths seemed to wind upward, Iolanthe trailing behind the plump drow as he waved his arms around crazily whilst pointing out various things along the way. Suddenly, they were outside, the hallway opening up into an alley with stone buildings on either side, windows and doors barred. These, Wynnard explained, were the living quaters for the gladiators. Some of the others, belonging to poorer keepers, lived further along the road in open walled prisons, it seemed. The men were fantastic, muscled and tall, dark, angry, panting with inexhaustable bloodlust. Iolanthe's heart quickened at the scent of a fight.
Wynnard turned right, and right again, the alley closing up again as it was thrust into the wall of the Arena. This hall was not carpeted, but cobbled, and seemed to be in greater use. [/i]

Wynnard: This is the gradual path to the actual arena, where the fights take place. Exciting, isn't it?

[i]He didn't wait for an answer as they pressed on through the hall, rooms opening up on either side with all kinds of things housed inside. [/i]

Wynnard: Everything is arranged perfectly... The gladiators run out of their rooms and through here, getting ready along the way. The passage could be five hundred or a thousand paces long, depending on what you needed in the fight. No armour, barehanded fighting all the way up to a whole battilion against ten chariots. Lions, tigers, dogs, bears, even an elephant... all from above, of course. Locals like the lizard fights. But a real rarity... dragourets. I'll show you why.

[i]They reached a set of huge doors. Wynnard walked to the side and pulled a lever, the hydraulics moaning under their feet as the doors swung outward. The arena was massive, the biggest structure Iolanthe had seen from the inside. It looked so much bigger from where she was standing... thousands of rows of seats, stretching up and into the darkness. She felt dizzy.[/i]

Wynnard: Most of the tickets are cheap because it's hard seeing anything. Dragouret fights are special - and really rake in the doe - because most of the fighting is done in the air. So everyone can see...

[i]Iolanthe pulled off her cape and soared into the space above her. It was truly gigantic, and even bigger once veiwed from above. She looked down and saw the fine sand of the floor tinted brown and red with blood... she belonged here.[/i]
[/color][/font]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka flicked his long tongue out, several inches sliding down her throat. As the rough appendage traced the back of her mouth, he somehow managed crude speech.[/I]

Kynjaka: Ever been internally strangled?

[I]She made a low, guttural sound, the wide transverse waves in her vocal chords not doing wonders for his tongue... He got the point, and withdrew. He shifted slightly above her, spreading his wings out like an impenetrable cloak. The only light was his luminous eyes, like twin will-o-the-wisps, drawing her in.[/I]

Kynajak: You didn't leave me a lot to work with mortal.

Vondeux: What more do you need?

[I]Kynjaka smiled, the thin light illuminating pristine fangs as the dull grey of old bone. He traced her body with his eyes, and a cat-clawed hand, the blood ruffling silky fur.[/I]

Kynjaka: Room, my dear, for you to writhe.[/font][/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]Vondeux: If you're expecting me to scream for mercy....

Kynjaka: It would be nice.

Vondeux: Dream on.

[i]She hissed at him, her fangs glittering white in response. He gripped her firmly by the throat with one hand, another tracing a line from her chest to her navel, and a third pulling her hair away from her face. She gripped his hand desperatly, lips turning pale. He grinned as she struggled, enjoying her discomfort. Except he wasn't quite sure if it was discomfort, she was writhing with what could be considered pleasure.

She dug her nails in sharply, drawing more than just a slight amount of blood. He released her and she gasped for air, eyes wide open. He laughed and lowered himself down on top of her. She slid her legs upwards to dig into his back.

Vondeux grinned at him, then raked her claws up his throat, leaving several red marks.[/i]

Vondeux: ....don't worry about hurting me. .....if you ever do.[/COLOR]

[Revelation]

[size=1][i]Ariel kept watching. She could see that they both enjoyed being pleasured "roughly". She looked on with intensity. Red marks were left here and there on both bodies. They were both enjoying each other's pain. Ariel did not believe that pain was enjoyable, but then she remembered that bloodshed was pain and she enjoyed bloodshed. Many think that Ariel is such an innocent gift from Loloth, but in truth Ariel is a mini-Vonduex. Except for the fact that Ariel has never experienced lust and she has never fought demons. The images were getting stronger and stronger and kept Ariel interested. This was one lesson that interested her instead of reading that book. Ariel spoke words to herself while watching Vondeux and the demon.[/size][/i]

[size=1][color=indigo]"Hmmm, filled with lust. Pleasure is enjoyable as well as pleasurable pain. I wonder what it feels like firsthand...I would probably have to have Vondeux's consent before experiencing firsthand. She would probably have to choose someone to "teach" as well. *sigh* this is as far as I might be able to get...watching. Let's see how much further it will go."[/size][/color]

[Ravenstorture]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Wynnard turned at the sound of a door slamming somewhere, and motioned for her to get down and replace her cloak.
[/i]
Wynnard: People are beginning to arrive... the fight is in two hours.

Iolanthe: The fight?

Wynnard: Your debut on stage... only veiwed by a select few, mainly counsellors and a few head keepers. You know, to prove yourself.

Iolanthe: Can I ask you a question?

Wynnard: Sure, go right ahead.

Iolanthe: What am I meant to do, in this fight?

Wynnard: Well, fight him, maim him if you can, and kill him after a while. Please the crowd.
Iolanthe: Hmmm... is there anything that isn't allowed?

Wynnard: No sex, no hiding. Everything else is on the cards.

[i]Iolanthe smiled to herself. This life was going to be fun..... [/i][/color][/font]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Kynjaka: Hurt you? That was not a concern. Killing you however...

[I]Vondeux's eyes glinted with interest. Kynjaka again held her down, one of his pantherish claws reached down, raking up the inside of her leg.[/I]

Kynjaka: This was never of interest to me.

[I]Vondeux's eyes dulled slightly in confusion. Kynjaka drew his hand further up, over her soft stomach. He placed his paw in the centre, just under his navel. He bug his centre claw in, hard enough to pierce deeply, and drew it upwards...

Utilising as much of the body as possible was always preferable.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Her mouth opened slightly and her sigh was definetly audible....and something he relished. But her next reaction, was rather unexpected. She harnessed her drow savagery and snatched him down to her level, then rolled on top of him. With a flick of her fingers, she snapped four of the unbreakable chains onto his wrists, summoning one more to rest none too gently on his throat. He tried struggling, only to find that they gave him more than just a little buzz when he tried moving.

Vondeux grinned, eyes snapping playfully. Then sat down on his lower torso...and gave him similar red marks. Her wings folded over his losely, individual feathers brushing against his pinions.[/i]

Kynjaka: Like to play dirty?

Vondeux: Is it my fault I'm a Level 4 [highest level, duh!] Sorceresss?

Kynjaka: ...yeah.[/COLOR]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: Someone didn't make a lot of sense of the preceding post hmm....

IC: [I]Kynjaka flicked his wings up wyvern like claws on the wing bones brushing against the sides of her skull. He allowed her her "dominance" for the moment, his thick fur was most likely more discomforting to her than she was to him. Besides, any pain she caused him could be returned so easily...

He let his wings fall back, his eyes luminous with a violet dazzle to rival her own ...enthusiam for the entire process. He assumed she'd get on with it eventually. After all, she could, theoretically, teaste him as much as she liked. But he would, after all, outlive her.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]No, my mind is gone. I have lost my free will. Somewhere...at the Farmer's Market....
~~~~~~~~
[i]He closed his eyes, feeling her fangs graze against his throat, blood dripping from her stomach to his own, mingling with her earlier gifts to him. He sighed, then felt the breath leave him. A wound on his neck, several more on his shoulders, and inexplicable pleasure flooding through his body. She smiled and dug her fangs in deeper, nearly piercing a vital artery, but bypassing it for the smaller, less important, veins.

She slit one open with her canines, and slid her tongue down across the severed canal. He tasted like wine, red wine, the type she never used except for ceremonies. Smiled, face turning darker. He looked as she brought her head up to him, teeth dripping fresh blood. She removed the chain slowly and he touched her mouth with his palm. She kissed it, smearing the blood liberally.

He wiped it down her front, and she purred low in her throat.

"Mmmm, hope you don't mind the severed veins...."

"Hardly."[/i][/COLOR]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]He craned his neck, keeping the muscles under pressure, and examined his hands, smeared almost clean on her torso. He reached out, his long fingers finding the deep wound on her stomach, opening it, and picking her up by it. He sat up on the bed, placing her on his lower legs.

His claws traced up and down her spine, while his hands traced absent designs in the blood on her stomach. She took the wound well, but perhaps was too distracted to acknowledge it. He smiled bitterly, and lunged his head forward. She gasped, and recevied a mouth full of silky but thick fur for her trouble. His mouth closed over her throat, but did not even pierce skin. Point made, he withdrew, and sunk his fangs an inch into the flesh of her shoulder. Gently, withdrawing quickly, but the pain was still there.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]She felt light headed, knew she was loosing too much blood. Her hands moved down automatically to cover her wound. Muttering a spell to raise the flesh from death into life. He waited, then saw the flash of purple and white, then the tingling sensation of flowing manna. He smiled. It could always happen again. She put her hands on his shoulders, tightening her grip as if she was massaging his body. He smiled and held her wrists, other two hands on her shoulders, fingering the new cuts.

He licked her throat, tongue teasing the flicking pulse. She shuddered, then looked up at her ceiling. Still bloodstained after all these years....from sexual and fatal attractions. The sensation, or rather the smell, of blood snaspped her back to reality and she realised what he was doing. Tracing every line on her body with cruelly sharp nails. She blinked, then gasped for air. Teeth biting down on her body, testing her limits with pain. Only she didn't feel that, only a blinding surge of light.

Ecstasy, to move now would ruin it. He knew she had passed from ordinary to insane. He rubbed her chest, bringing his face back up to her, kissing her. Filling her with her taste.[/i][/COLOR]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=indigo][i]Ariel watched with a close eye. Pain, blood, pleasure, the drugs of sex were all very high. Ariel knew that if this is what Vondeux intended her to watch, then watch she may. She watched as Kynjaka left Vondeux's mouth and let his tongue slide out of his own. Feeling the wounds around her body, making sure that Vondeux was in pain. Vondeux looked at him and opened new wounds on his chest and stomach, making an intricate symbol of power on him. Blood dripping from the wounds, Kynjaka did not mind. He looked and only saw blood, he reached around Vonduex's back and reopened more wounds. Both were giving each other pleasure and both were in fact dying to start the real fun.[/size][/color][/i]

[Ravenstorture]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Iolanthe found herself collared once she hit the ground. The doors, already open, jerked past as she was yanked quickly down the hallway. Confused as to the treatment, she understood as a sea of faces appeared. She was property now, and needed to act like it.
The journey went on and on into the thick wall of the colossal building. By the time Wynnard halted, Iolanthe's white neck seeped blood and flecks of iron from the shackles. She was shoved into a room, and into a chair. The door was shut with Wynnard on the inside.[/i]

Wynnard: Sorry, keeping up appearences. You took it well.

[i]Iolanthe stared up at her captor, looking dissapointed. He looked away, and she smiled.[/i]

Wynnard: So sorry, Iolanthe. I'll warn you next time.

Iolanthe: Nevermind. What now?

[i]Wynnard looked around the room, excited. It was bare save for a chest in the corner and a couple of chairs. Walking to the chest, Wynnard opened it and pulled out a clump of cloth, dumping it on a chair. Iolanthe found, upon further inspection, that the wad was in fact items of clothing - ones like she used to wear. Some were rather good, too.... Wynnard looked back from his rummaging in the trunk and motioned for her to put them on.
Iolanthe stripped to her bare skin and placed her clothes on her chair. Then, selecting a black strip of cotton, she folded it in half lengthways to make a thinner strip and then passed one end around her back, under her wings, and around the other side. Then, crossing the ends, she pulled each strip over one breast and around behind her neck, tieing it off. Then she adjusted the parts covering her breasts so they were decent, and supporting. Finding another strip of cloth identical to the last, she wrapped it around her hips twice and tied it off at the side just in time for Wynnard to turn around again and hand her some armour. Two arm braces, studded black leather. He held out other stuff, but she rejected everything but a short dagger, which she shoved into her skirt. The collar was still on her neck, the length of chain short enough to hang to her navel.
Wynnard looked her up and down, and smiled. Her hair still hung loose, however, and she ripped a thin strip off her skirt and tied it into a tight bun on her crown.
She was ready...

[/i][/font][/color]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka let the blood run off his tongue down her throat, clearing his airway more than anything. Still, the purpose was served, and she obviously liked it. He at last pulled his head back, looking at her eager eyes. He snarled at her, a low rumbling in his throat.

He placed a heavy paw on her chest, holding her down. He reopened the wound on her stomach, intent this time to do what he'd meant to the first time.

After all, he was all a creature of pleasures, and there was little that was more pleasurable than recreating what mortals used for pleasure, and combining it with pain.[/font][/color][/I]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]She could feel it ending. Her frail sanity, escaping with every cc of blood she could see, and smell. It was torture. Her eyes flickered between purple and red, he looked up. Grinned slightly.

He stroked her hair and felt the tips of her eyelashes, then brought his lips to her stomach and tasted. She felt like she was being crushed. Held down by a cruel and thoughtless enemy. She loved it. There was little hope of escape, her mind was so unfocused, she couldn't call up a summon to save her....even if she wanted to...much less a casual regeneration spell.

He saw her struggling for control, and smiled. There was very little need to hold her down now, not when she couldn't keep a grip on herself.[/i][/COLOR]

[Corey]

I walked slowly down the hallways of Vondeuxs mansion. The gaurd had hit me. Said it was my punishment. It was no problem. There was now a slight smear of red upon the pale skin of my white cheek. Vondeux would deel with him, hopefully.

My eyes lashed hatred. Someone was with my Mistress... And it was not me... That was wrong... The gaurd was right. I had become infatuated. And it was driving me to abandon my nature. The nature of white elves, was calm. Contemplative even. We took things as they came, and enjoyed the fact that we were a rare thing. We loved to be pampered, and have been made to be sexually gratifying.

For the second time this day, my Mistress was enjoying someone. I was the first, and someone was making her forget me...

[b]Esrie-[/b] "No..." I ducked into the armory and grabbed a serrated knife. Carefully I hid it under my robes and contiued toward Vonduexs room. My eyes flashed a shade of deep indigo, leaving the sky-blue color behind. Blood is what I wanted...

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka was about to complete the final phase of the dance, perhaps death, when he was somewhat rudely interrupted. The door..well, not crashed open. But it wasn't exactly opened politely. Kynjaka rose to his feet, less than happy with the intrusion. His claws slid out fully, Vondeux's blood staining his hands and face. Already a fearsome sight, the life fluid that highlighted his body in striated smears left him a psychopathic killer.....Normally, it didn't show.

His ire was somewhat dented when he saw the intruder. A skinny, pasty white elf. Still, he had a knife in hand, and considering that it did come from a drow household, it was probably enchanted enough to pierce skin. He stopped only a second, his eyes flickering in surprise, before he launched himself at Kynjaka. A brave, futile gesture. Kynjaka's hands shot out, grabbing the knife hand with one, deflecting the body with the other. Almost contemptuously, he redirected the elf's momentum into a wall.

He held out his hand, and closed his eyes a moment. The air shimmered, and his flamberge glittering in his grip.[/I]

Kynjaka: I need to enspell the scabbard for the same thing....

[I]He turned to the white elf, who still lay against the wall, blade rising. Vondeux stepped in between them, imperious despite her shakiness raising her hand.[/I]

Vondeux: You will not harm him.

Kynjaka: You aren't in a position to object right now.

Vondeux: No, but I will be later.

Kynjaka: You make an interesting point. However, if this fool attacks me again, I'll do you a favour and feed him to you.[/font][/color]

[Ravenstorture]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]The doors were opened slightly when Iolanthe got there. Wynnard had left her a few turns back to sit in the audience.

Slipping through the doors, she was blinded momentarily by the lights, big torches in polished silver bowls that she'd not seen her last visit. Instead of roaring crowds, however, there were only twenty or so people in the stands.

The announcing scribe slipped out another door in the side, and Iolanthe was left alone in the arena. She stood, staring up at the distant ring of faces for a while, before spreading her huge wings and ascending to their level, floating there and staring at them. They almost seemed disinterested.

Iolanthe, dissapointed, reached the ground once more and sat, picking at her toenai.

It was another few minutes before the door opened again behind her.[/i][/color][/font]