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Vanessa & Maul
Vanessa Ives
Nightbrother Maul
To be the thing not touched by light.
[ While sun touched the villages of the Nightbrothers it was the thick blanket of mystic fog left the areas where the Nightsisters lurked in a darkness. A sort of darkness which grew only darker into the actual night. So much of this planet was left in ruins and wilds. Dangers in the crooked woods and further out where people of legends once lived and worshipped. Tonight was at the heart of the Nightsister covens. So important was the practice that it took place within the temple walls. Around a flat and wide stone sat the sisters; the glow of powerful green ichor danced and wove between them.
War had taken a handful of Sisters from them but they would return. What no one espected was the presence of another. Now, neither Nightsisters not Nightbrothers were all too kind to outsiders but this stranger, this woman, Mother Talzin sensed something. ]
Quiet Sisters [ she spoke in their Native Tongue. ] Let us take this woman into our care and we shall judge her in time. She may just be one of us. [ And to the woman in question, she asked in basic, her accent thick ] tell me child, what is your name?
[ They had tended to her with generous care having brought clothing and discussing at least the bare minimum amount of information as to where precisely Vanessa was and who she had come into the company of. A planet called Dathomir. One very rich with a powerful and ancient magic. They were Nightsisters, the coven of all covens though it looked to be distinctly free of men. Eventually Mother Talzin departed after informing Vanessa that someone would be in shortly to wait on her should she have any needs for the rest of the evening and throughout the night. Which was exactly when she would meet her first male.
A soft click punctuated his arrival. Though the light was dim there was enough of it to focus on quite a bit different looking figure. He wasn't too tall but he surely was lean, red-skinned and tribal tatoos covering every inch of his body. A crown of horns and vibrant golden eyes. Beads, teeth, and horns adorned him. Jewelry seemed less common among the sisters yet Mother Talzin wore sone. Perhaps a sign that he, too, was of some notoriety. ]
Vanessa is it. [ Like black velvet, his voice. Resonate yet breathy. A slow and measured speech. ] Quite the topic you are among the sisters.
War had taken a handful of Sisters from them but they would return. What no one espected was the presence of another. Now, neither Nightsisters not Nightbrothers were all too kind to outsiders but this stranger, this woman, Mother Talzin sensed something. ]
Quiet Sisters [ she spoke in their Native Tongue. ] Let us take this woman into our care and we shall judge her in time. She may just be one of us. [ And to the woman in question, she asked in basic, her accent thick ] tell me child, what is your name?
[ They had tended to her with generous care having brought clothing and discussing at least the bare minimum amount of information as to where precisely Vanessa was and who she had come into the company of. A planet called Dathomir. One very rich with a powerful and ancient magic. They were Nightsisters, the coven of all covens though it looked to be distinctly free of men. Eventually Mother Talzin departed after informing Vanessa that someone would be in shortly to wait on her should she have any needs for the rest of the evening and throughout the night. Which was exactly when she would meet her first male.
A soft click punctuated his arrival. Though the light was dim there was enough of it to focus on quite a bit different looking figure. He wasn't too tall but he surely was lean, red-skinned and tribal tatoos covering every inch of his body. A crown of horns and vibrant golden eyes. Beads, teeth, and horns adorned him. Jewelry seemed less common among the sisters yet Mother Talzin wore sone. Perhaps a sign that he, too, was of some notoriety. ]
Vanessa is it. [ Like black velvet, his voice. Resonate yet breathy. A slow and measured speech. ] Quite the topic you are among the sisters.
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From white ash to red dirt.
This wasn't the release she had damned the world for, so then what was it? A planet by a name she's never heard before, and so it may as well be a realm that has been lost in the demimonde until now. Not Heaven by any stretch, and certainly not Hell. At least, she has to remind herself of that much as soon as the stranger enters.
She's been curled huddled in the corner until now, hugging her knees as a child might, but the vision of a red-skinned man with horns draws her immediately to her feet, back stiff and blue eyes so wide she may appear as if to soon faint. Her stance remains firm, however, with pale hands twisting at the fabric of her clothes to keep from lunging. He has yet to make himself the enemy, no matter how he appears.
The women had been alien to her, yes, but this is something else. It's reminiscent of her old dreams.
'Quite the topic'.
It never changes, no matter where she is. As far as she is concerned, these Nightsisters are no better than the Nightcomers who served Lucifer, and Vanessa wants nothing to do with any such covens. They are the reason she is here and not at rest. ]
They know not what they have done in bringing me here. Should they want for peace, they will send me back.
[ Back where? To oblivion, she supposes. To nothingness. ]
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[ Hands folded behind his back. Yes, the way the man walked gave an air of importance though it was easy and natural not forced. Toward the balcony where she stood stiff and alert. He looked her over. The pale of her and in such Sister garb she really could be considered one of them. All she missed was the markings and likely some internal anatomy. Those golden eyes cast their look out for a moment as the words came assured of their truth. ] And besides, Lady Ives, peace is a false truth spread by those who wish to subdue the unrestful. Such a thing will never come as it does not exist outside of the individual self.
[ He turned, then. To fully face her. Was a conversation of politics and philosophy what you were yearning for tonight? A few more steps forward. ] Your being here, or not, will do little to change this. Though I am ever curious what trouble you bring and why Mother didn't put you back into the ground.
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A sharp chin lifts with slight indignance, resistant to backing away at his approach, but no less wary of his proximity. She doesn't fear assault; mockery is far worse. But that doesn't seem to be his aim. Likely, he's as confused as her, but he is able to wield it as a tool given this is his realm. She is an outsider, as she has always been. ]
...With luck, you will never manage beyond that curiosity. Knowledge will not bring assurance, if that is your desire.
[ The creature cuts a striking figure as he draws closer, and Vanessa is rather drawn to the alien beauty in many cases... Normally, she might even move near to openly stare. But here, she can scarcely form thoughts beyond her own misery, and all she can see is one more attempt to shackle her fate. ]
You know my name. What of yours?
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But it does bring a power, knowledge. [ He had little reason to think of her as an enemy yet though perhaps other Nightbrother's would be less receptive to such a new face. Maul, being who he was, had a bit more, how to say, discipline and diplomacy about him. Didn't mean he couldn't have his fun. Always one to play cat and mouse even in simple conversation. It was subtle, but the man enjoyed a subtle intensity. The quiet subtext. Though one could pull something with a bit more fire out of him if they knew how to do it.
Thoughts for later, possibly. For in his silent observation of her, Maul had found their guest to be mired in something he couldn't quite describe. A grief perhaps, a longing? Things of complicated matters. This woman has seen things, yes... done things. Ah, and now it made sense though he knew not the extent of her story. Mere whispers through the Force. Emotion. It made sense that Mother Talzin would welcome her. They were all creatures of the dark here. In one way or another. ]
Maul. [ he introduced himself after a moment. A touch of amusement in the next words. ] And what pleasure to serve you, Lady Ives.
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Here, there is no Lucifer. No Dracula. Their whispering has ceased, but she hasn't been gifted with silence. Something else whispers to her here; something that reminds her she is still in danger... That she may still be the danger. It's the last thing she wants. Any warning she offers is for their own good, but of course they won't listen. ]
Maul.
[ As if tasting it, enunciating carefully so she will never forget. Vanessa is no mouse. For one who mothered the predators of the night, she has no fear left to speak of save perhaps for what she might accidentally do to others. For all the evil of her world that she carries, somehow it hasn't utterly blackened her heart. ]
I want for nothing that you can give, and believe me when I say that I have nothing to offer in turn. You would be well served to put me back into the ground, as you say.
[ How cruel, though, to die as a stranger. She had been ready to die by love's hand. It had been delivered, but now it was nothing but a jest. Now even that much will be denied her final breath. ]
To whom does this tribe of yours bend the knee? Who do you truly serve?
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[ Dathomir had aligned themselves once in the service to themselves. He knew this was why at one time they had been at the side of Lord Sidious. Those times had passed, and long passed. For good reason. Such a masterful manipulator was he that the etches he'd left still haunted Maul's mind; fingernails stuck in the chasms of it. He was not so untrue in his observations of their galaxy but the best manipulation always started with the truth.
And they had come here again not too long ago seeking allegiance. What a battle it had been for there was truly no words that could have described the rage. Maul knew his place was not where he'd been raised to believe it was. The blood still soaked her grounds but the coven and the tribe survived. As they always do. And the remains among those rose with this strange surprise who stood before him now. ] So determined you are to die. It is curious to me, but something I understand.
[ He'll give her some space and walk out to where the room opened. ] I would give it to you, death. If I had been instructed explicitly to not, but let me tell you something and perhaps this can inform you further.
I was taken from here when young. A man came, he came with many promises. And he took me and I became his tool, his weapon. He stole every piece of my identity and replaced it with himself. Fed me hate, fed me pain, fed me fear. Until I became them. [ And here, in those words, it showed. The rich embers of his voice burned with a fire that would never truly be put out. He would never be whole again. Not really. And the words which came next were measured. Slower. Entangled in an emotion that wasn't confidence nor anger. Pauses disrupting the flow to regain composure. ] But I— outlived my use, Lady Ives. And I was discarded. [ Eyes lifted from across the room. Vibrant gold. Something deeply anguished held in them. ] Broken. She put me back together; I was put back together in ways I don't think you can comprehend. My mind was shattered.
So, if Mother sees something in you then you should trust that what she sees is who you are and not whatever makes you crave death.
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She can't even marvel at the gall of the jest before he continues on into much more somber territory. Her eyes follow him as he moves, and if she moves closer while he speaks, it's only so she can keep sight of the gold in his eyes. No matter how unique the rest of him might appear, it's the eyes that Vanessa has always been drawn to, and what she has always had the power to see into. It should be enough to assure her that he isn't lying, but the last man she had trusted had proven how thoroughly she could still be tricked when her heart gets involved.
Even staying wary of that, it's impossible not to be moved by his tale. His voice seems scarred by the memory, and there is a pinch to the back of her throat when he looks back toward her. She stills, then folds her arms. Far from indignance, Vanessa only acts as if to embrace herself.
His words resonate almost too intimately. Pity doesn't move her, but she cannot deny the touch of empathy that twists her heart as he speaks of the hatred he was fed. Once, Vanessa had believed there to be a reason for everything. God's plan was ineffable. Then, she had realized she had been the only one to create her own Heaven or her own Hell, that fate was nothing more than a mirage. She had tried too hard to see what she wanted to, not what she needed to. Now that her eyes are opened, she wants only to close them again.
But here is a creature sharing a story that strikes too closely to be mere happenstance. Or is she once again only seeing what some small part of her wishes to? That part that still calls herself Vanessa, even if that woman died as soon as she tossed her cross into the fire. ]
I do not crave death. [ Though whatever it is that they see in her is the very reason she needs to die. So, yes, perhaps it appears to be exactly the same thing. Perhaps there is no difference. ] I want only to be free of the pain, but I am the very source of it.
[ Sighing in a moment of weakness to reveal her weariness, Vanessa casts her sight away from him to the red sky. She can already picture the fog of pestilence settling across this land. ]
I was once broken... Fractured. But my curse is now complete. You will suffer if I remain. If not you, then the enemies you would think to use me against. I can't allow it, not again.
[ But— She does give pause, her curiosity still as endless as ever. Too much of his story is familiar, but she knows it can't be because of the same being. ]
What was the name of the man who took you?
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In allowing them to shine through, in allowing his breath to thin and whisper a fear that was indeed real, a pain that hurt more than he cared to remember, he got what he wanted. He learned from the best, after all. Manipulation starts with truth and now she spoke. No doubt it was the very reason that Mother Talzin asked him to serve her tonight. He could get from this Vanessa Ives what no one else could, most likely. This besides, he was curious and more worldly than the others. Traveled and well spoken among other things. Complex compared to the simple lives of his brothers.
Still. Whether this little chat would end up useful or not it hurt all the same to remember these memories. It was only that he was what he was, a Zabrak, a Nightbrother, that he survived. Maul was sure. No other being could have lived and still live. A strength, but it had been his weakness once. It was what allowed everything to happen. That he could survive. It allowed the pain; it allowed him to believe in lies that only started to be doubted when he spent years amongst the filth and wreckage of where he should have died.
Some nights it was hard to contain the monster.
Some nights his throat bled from the screaming.
Some nights he felt he should have died and others he spent hoping he would.
Some nights he thought that it was only a matter of time they return again knowing that he lived and was here, seeing him the time before. That he has cursed this planet to death eventually for the maws of the Emperor was ever hungry. It was not a war he could win. Not then. Not now. Not ever. So perhaps this curse was mutual between them. Perhaps they both were destined to bring ruin to all they care for. Life was like that, you see. Unfair. ]
I have already suffered, Lady Ives. [ The rage lived and snapped in his voice and though the clench of his fist said anger it was the eyes that said pain; said sorrow. He breathed. He looked away. And calmer, he spoke. ] We have already suffered, and what curse you bring will be one we survive the same as what curse I bring. These lands are stronger than you or I. So long as it lives the Sisters cannot die.
[ Ah. The name, the name. A whisper, like a haunting. When he'd thought her a lamb and here he was. A trembling sound. Even now. There was no possible way their demons were the same but he'd give breath to it regardless. ] Darth Sidious.
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Anything is possible. This could be a different incarnation, whether or not the creature in question is still 'alive'. Life and death seem to mean nothing when it comes to her 'beloved'. What would it mean for her, for this world? And what if it was a different father of evil? Would that make it any less noteworthy?
Her steps are slow and deliberate as she moves toward him again, now stopping near enough that she must tilt her head to peer into his eyes. His pride is real enough and so is his pain. Those do not make him a friend, but they make him all the more curious to her. Why had the women sent him? Had they known something about her they weren't sharing, after all? ]
Does he still live?
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Yet this change of tone was intriguing and, perhaps, precisely what they were looking for. What he was looking for. Mother told him little else but the command to not do their guest harm. Had she known more than she told either of them? She did know her Son's pain very well. She had been the one who put him back together. Who had taken all the fractures out of him. It did seem that this woman knew evil; had come to serve it in one way or another. ]
Sidious? Of course. Not too long ago there was a war of his own design. [ The emotion evens out; it calms into the neutral tones of a studied man. Comfort laid in the discussion of politics even if he was no longer a part of the landscape. ] Now the galaxy eats out of his hand. They eat, or they die. [ He walks, hands back to behind his back. One gesticulating much like before. ] We, Dathomir, are in the outer rim and not on any trade routes. So besides putting to bed an old shadow [ that being himself ] the Empire has little need for us yet. His new apprentice and their army will return, though. This much is certain. [ Maul stopped, looking toward Vanessa. ] The Emperor, as he now is, will not rest until he has absolute control.
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That is, if Ethan hadn't killed her. Doing so should have put an end to the Armageddon she had summoned. Now a cold fear tickles the back of her neck, and shoulders hunch in the morbid consideration that nothing was stopped at all. Perhaps it couldn't be stopped once brought forth. It wouldn't make sense. But neither does any other possibility.
Emperor, though. Her oldest enemy would have stopped at nothing less than God.
Whether this war began with the evil she birthed, or whether it has nothing at all to do with her, the weariness eats at her and drops her swiftly. She sinks to her knees with head held low, one hand pressed over her eyes as she attempts to manifest the sorrows of this entire world and its peoples in her mind and command them to hush after begging their forgiveness. ]
Why am I here?
[ It isn't a question for him, but for the Absolute that has never given her answers. Her voice feels small, choking on itself as she sucks in breaths that tremble. She will not weep, but how tired she is. Her bones are tired. Her soul? Nothing is left of it, but there is something in the void that shudders on near collapse.
Louder, now, but only just, ]
If I were to help you, your people— This Mother of yours, would she put me to rest? Could she be certain no other could disturb me again?
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And as she dropped to her knees and he watched with a sort of curiosity. Such an action would most certainly be considered a weakness outside of specific contexts but she was foreign and he felt there was something here, something happening. After a moment of silence, he spoke. ] We do not bow to our pain, Lady Ives. [ Maul reached down and offered her his hand. ] But yes, she can.
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[ It's snapped out with an edge that is only dulled because she had wished it so, knowing his words to be some strange form of understanding, if not comfort. She doubts anyone here would care to comfort her, and she may hate them for trying, for she deserved nothing of the like. Does it mean she is willing to suffer in silence, though?
Resisting the urge to push his hand away, she stares at the sight of it as if momentarily mesmerized before finally taking hold and allowing him to help her back to her feet.
No, she hadn't bowed. But she had given in; given up. And who could blame her? She had fought her whole life, and it had done nothing but caused more pain. She had stood strong as her soul disappeared into the shadows, bit by bit by bit until there was nothing left but a husk that was once named Vanessa Ives. And then, only then, had she accepted defeat. Only then did she accept the truth: Amun-Ra had not been the world's enemy. Amunet had birthed it, and Vanessa tried to end it.
How could she take a form any different in this world? There is no way to know, but she must accept this is how it is. For now. Rarely does she lose her temper like that, and shame immediately calms her voice back to a whisper. ]
...Forgive me, I am—
[ Her slender hand drops away and she folds her arms, averting her gaze. ]
I need to eat. If... If I am to help.
[ Vanessa is far too weak like this. Stronger than a human, but nowhere near her full potential. That had once been intentional, but it would no longer serve her if she wants to meet this new goal. ]
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Nothing to forgive, Lady Ives. [ She speaks as if this could happen over night but he'll indulge. As it is his duty. ] Our food does not serve you? [ A beat. ] What is it you need?
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It won't harm her, but it isn't what she craves. That craving is something she's long been denying, she has kept in marvelous control, but that had been easier when she had been left to a slaughterhouse surrounded by groveling vampires. Of course they didn't appeal.
What is it you need? For a moment the blue in her eyes shifts to something muddier when she looks back to glance him over. Blood has always been her power, but that was her own. How she is loathe to take others. ]
Your food is...already dead.
[ The thought of finding and feeding on an animal as if she were nothing but a basic beast makes her stomach churn, but it may be her only option. It isn't as if she can feed on the people here. What sort of creatures even roam the wild of a world like this? ]
Do they mean to keep me here, or am I permitted to leave?
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You are no prisoner, Lady Ives. [ By the doors, a wall-mounted rack of various weapons. Maul called a pointed voulge to his hand and turned back to the woman with a nod for her to follow. ] Simply that the these grounds are dangerous even for us.
[ A hand gestured out to the halls as he opened the doors, head bowing. ] After you.
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It's enough, for now.
Witnessing him call a weapon to his side gives her pause, unaccustomed to such physical displays of magic. The Sisters seemed capable of far more than she's witnessed before, as well. It's difficult to subdue this curiosity, but there are others.
Vanessa's expression falters to uncertainty as she steps out ahead of him, glancing back at the curious way he bows his head. She is used to men bowing, of course, but there has always been an air of superiority to it in England. One could feel it as much as see it around most men. It exaggerates as much as it mocks. There is a nuance here that she can't yet grasp.
The women don't actually run things here, do they? Vanessa is still assuming that the women keep to their own hierarchy in this area, but it cannot extend to the whole of these people, can it? Mother Talzin must be an anomaly. ]
What manner of beasts do you most often hunt?
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This was to say that the women certainly did run things and everything Vanessa was likely to see as they walked down the halls would further suggest it. Not just here, even, but everywhere on this planet. Every clan and every coven was ruled by one, by Mother Talzin. While the Nightbrothers had their own village and leaders those leaders ultimately served the Nightsisters just the same.
Very rare was it to see a man in these halls. The Sisters were extremely self-reliant but every now and then when they needed or more usually when they wanted a companion for this or that one might pop up and Vanessa would see them much in the way that they both walked now. The woman lead. If and only if she were in danger or required something of him would he ever dare to step in front. ]
Many manners, Lady Ives. Do you have a preference?
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She may not know exactly where they're going, but she vaguely remembers the path first taken to her room, enough that she can make her way outside without a guide. Once there, however, she'll be keeping him in her periphery with the occasional glance back, using his body language to guide her steps even as he follows. He would know best where she needs to head. It's tempting to tell him that she doesn't need his help, but Vanessa doubts he would let her go on her own. She's confident she could escape his 'guardianship' if she so wished, but what would be the point? Where would she go?
For now, she trusts him to keep her from getting lost, but once they're on their own she is following her own scent. There's a beast in the distance that seems to be stalking another animal. Vanessa ignores its prey, only concerned with the predator itself. It seems to her as large as a jungle cat, but it's anything but. Some sort of reptile. The thick scales on its hide could prove troublesome. If her companion names it, it won't be a word she'll recognize.
She carries herself with an alien grace while she trails the beast, and with each delicate step lets through a harsh whisper in the Devil's Tongue. Unfit for such elegance, yet more at home in her breast than anywhere else. She has taken it from Lucifer and made it her own, and it weaves out a distant spell. The guttural language scratches out from the back of her throat as if escaping the fires of Hell, each command ending with a serpentine hiss before it's repeated. Somehow it remains unheard by the creatures stalking the land, no matter their usually sharp senses.
Vanessa has nearly forgotten she even has a companion with her as she loses herself to her own trance. ]
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Yet here she was quietly speaking a language he had never heard before and he had heard many. While she hunted along the grounds he chose to take up into the weaving trees and rotted roots that tangled throughout the area. He notices many things as he settled back on a high branch and watched her move out into the clearing where no creature seemed to notice nor care. For now, here was where he would settle. Watching. ]
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She's mere meters away when it finally takes notice, and when the giant lizard whips around with a bloodied cry of warning, she can see the scars showing its age. For a moment her heart swells, and she can feel its outrage. It burns her blood, just as its sudden fear clenches her gut when she whispers again. ]
Itsi traissalaam. Ye eni.
[ On command, it submits, though there seems to be a momentary inner struggle before it bows its head and the rest follows with a thump. Its eyes are wide, seeming aware enough to watch her as she reaches out to curiously trail her fingers along its muzzle, from its jaw to the curiously spiked dorsal fin. Ssshh, she whispers. ]
Ye eni.
[ Just next to it, Vanessa rests her forehead against the scaled creature, her small frame leaning into its breaths as it pants in and out, all too aware of what's happening yet unable to stop her. She continues to whisper as if comforting a child, and for her there's as much love for this beast as if it were her very own. Its magnificence is enough to leave her in awe, and she murmurs that love of its terrible beauty before her fingers curl beneath one of the supposedly impregnatable scales and rips it clean off.
She may not have learned the anatomy of these alien species', but she can listen to where the blood pumps, and she knows just where to slice with her nails so that its lifeblood bursts before falling to a steady trickle. The poor beast can do nothing but slowly bleed as she cups her hands to take a drink.
Unfortunate that all of her senses couldn't have prepared her for the taste. Vanessa had starved herself since first being turned, so she has nothing to compare it to, but the moment she's about to swallow she's spinning around and spitting it out with a disgusted hiss.
It's enough to give the creature a moment's reprieve from her compulsion. ]
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Her reaction though definitely pulled him out of his fascination as he laughed and landed with ease from the perch he'd been watching from. There were other creatures here that may have heard the laugh and would be closing in depending on how the night was going for their usual hunts. He didn't seem worried though. The caution that had been displayed previously was more for her sake and now he knew something about her; a few somethings. As for this particular beast... ]
Not to your liking, Lady Ives? [ Amused as he passed her with his polearm, prepared to finish the job and end this beast's life. ] More will likely come if you're seeking to sample a little of everything.
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There's a trembling to her fingers as they drop from her mouth, and slowly she looks back toward her companion as if only just now recalling that he exists. The blue of her eyes has been consumed by red irises flickering within a black void, and a new trance has taken her. ]
Pitiful beasts too low to the ground to offer me sustenance.
[ Turning, her head tilts with a wide-eyed curiosity, and Vanessa listens keenly to the way his pulse beats as if he houses two souls. A small step is taken forward, a predatory gaze centered on him rather than the dead creatures lying prone. The demon in her wonders if it can drain him before anything else attempts an ambush, but something in her does slow her advance. ]
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More important was what Maul felt. Something colder, crueler, more predatory. He watched, stepped around as she stepped forward. There had certainly been cases of death among their clans but his Brothers were not capable of what he was capable of. It was more than just something within her that slowed her advance. He slowed her advance as well; the Force pushing back against her body as she tried to move forward.
He can't kill her. That leaves enough room. ] This wont end well, but I'm intrigued. [ Some creatures came around yet even they knew better than to try as they stepped back into the twisting shadows. ]
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This time her command isn't whispered with love, but hissed out with primal need. ]
Itsi traissalaam. [ Surrender. ] Ye eni. [ You are mine. ]
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He was not scared; he did not fear death for one. In many ways he welcomed it. Though Maul was as all Zabrak were, proud. He'd certainly not go without putting up as much a fight as he'd be allowed. Driving the polearm into the ground, Maul reached out a hand and commanded the force to tighten around her neck. Not enough to crush her but enough to thin the sound of her voice. Yet he felt... What was this?
The Zabrak was far from someone with weak will and yet her spell affected him. He could feel its pressure in his mind. One knee drove into the ground. He stabilized himself with a hand yet the other remained trying to keep his grip on the force that had already began to slip away. His teeth bared and eyes narrowed as they looked up toward her. Not many people could out match him. He'd met maybe two, yes. Two.
The other knee fell. He fought hard against what power was driving back the Force; driving back his hand, but eventually Maul did indeed submit. Sat back on his ankles and hands neatly on his lap. Quiet. Subdued. ]
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But she is weak, never having allowed herself the tasting of blood until now. Even when she gave into the dark, that had been her final stand against the will of Amun-Ra. She wasn't to lower herself to feed with the animals. Yet here she is, desperate for more now that she knows what it can do.
When air rushes back into her lungs, Vanessa gasps with a flutter of eyelashes. There's a laugh to her next intake of breath, raw from the overflow of guttural spell-casting. Finally he falls, and even as his knees hit the ground, she is charmed. He is a stunning demon, fit enough for a queen to feast on.
Stepping to hover over him, the black in her eyes threatens to consume the blood red irises, misting at the edges as she slips deeper into the pit where her soul used to be. She gazes at him now with ferocity having sobered, but not vanished. It's merely as silent as her movements while she circles him only once before sinking down to take his hand, the one that had attempted to choke her only moments ago. Gently, she guides it to her cheek, nuzzling to find it as warm as any other man's, and in turn she reaches to cradle his cheek while keeping his gaze trapped by her own. In such proximity, she's only stronger for it.
The tip of her thumb brushes just underneath the gold of his eyes. He burns, and she wants to dance over the hot coals. She has never been able to resist such temptation. ]
What a beautiful monster.
[ Gentle are her words, as soft as how she touches with fingertips along his jaw and around to the nape of his neck. Her growl has softened to a purr when she straddles him and takes in his scent. Then, all delicacy is gone, and she jerks his head to the side while ripping his collar away so that newly exposed fangs can sink deep and discover if his blood runs red.
As soon as she bites deep enough to find out, the unkindness of ravens launch into the air with wild cries and a flurry of black feathers. They circle above, cawing and watching as if waiting for their turn. When Mother is done. ]
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That hand followed her guidance; his skin was warm, perhaps warmer than that of a human. Bone ringed fingers caressed her cheek but not without digging a thumb into it just enough to let her know he would defy her and he would fight her until his last breath was drawn. However he could. In whatever way he could.
And now at such a proximity she could feel the thickness of his skin. The way his heart beat much closer to the middle of his chest and their wild vibration told stories of war. While he had something of a reputation among the sisters none would deny his prowess were they asked. He was the pinnacle of his species and gender. Agile and quick, strong, lean. To have him on his knees like this, beneath her body that pressed close against him in hunger, was quite the privilege.
His breath was hot against her skin, rushing through his nostrils as she spoke those words. A monster. It seemed that, indeed, she understood what it was to be one. He couldn't push against her any more. His body strong against the jerk of that collar removed and with enough work the sharp of her fangs did finally penetrate. Thick, warn, and velvety red. Rich tasting. Fit indeed for a queen.
Up cast his eyes at the ravels above as they circled in wait. What a ridiculous way to die. It took everything in him but he managed, at least, to grasp her shoulder. And tried so hard to bring the other arm up to the other one but soon enough, soon enough, he gave in. The claws that dug into her porcelain skin began to loosen as she continued to feed. ]
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Vanessa has always been caught between the spirit and the flesh, unable to drift down one path without nearly being consumed by such desires. For this, both mind and body are lost to sensation, and her will continues to press at the edges of his mind while her hands roam. She is not just for seducing the mind. Vanessa has always been a physical creature; she thrives on touch. How she has been touch-starved.
Without him able to pull away, her grip relaxes so that she can let a hand slip under where his collar has ripped, nails pressing and dragging against the taut muscles between his shoulder-blades as if every part of her must dig deep. Her other hand cradles his jaw with fingertips slowly drifting to feel the curious piercings along his ear, tracing the shell of it before teasing at the base of one of the horns. Stunning, stunning.
He's too interesting to die, and it's that understanding that begins to weaken her hold on him. She'll continue to lap at the red ribbon of blood before it can trickle too far, but with the initial rush of it having satisfied the worst of her craving, some of her is recovering some bit of sense and she resists the desire to suck him dry.
Stopping completely is proving difficult, though. ]
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Her teeth dug further still and his blood poured and she ached against him. Maul was built to withstand pain. As her hand moved along the skin stretched tight over muscle, Vanesss would find many scars that told the story of it. Some were cuts, others burns, but all hidden by the busywork of his tribal tattoos. She could dig, she could cut and pierce and lash. If she did it well enough he might even thank her for it.
His eyes moved to barely catch her own gaze not a breath away. After his moment, his small moment of letting go, giving in, welcoming the potential cold grip of death that might have found its way to him, he once again became as he was more common to be: defiant. The way that gold stirred as he watched her, as his body arched in the dig of her hands, as his lips curled upward with just enough of a grin. Let her look; let her play, let her—
A sigh left him as her fingers played at the base of a horn. It was the very moment she allowed that trance to slip that his unoccupied hand gripped her hip. Nails dashed with blood moved from a shoulder to thick locks of raven hair. He rolled his head, eyes now locked with hers though the hand which grasped her hair played that line between good threat and bad threat very well. ]
Careful, Lady Ives. [ His voice was breathier; an ashy whisper like embers to the fire. A thumb found the dip in her hip and dug. ] Wouldn't want to rouse me so soon after dinner, would you?
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The blue of Vanessa's eyes has returned; on arrival when they had been overcast, now they're clear as the sea by which she was born. Life has stirred anew, and it's with a warped grin of gratitude that she presses forward until his back is flush against the ground and she's hovering close enough to taste without touching. He may be strong, but so is she, though it's hidden well by her slender frame. The bit of life she'd taken from his has almost renewed some color to her form, but barely. Just enough for the flush of freckles to be more visible on pale skin.
There's no resistance to his grip yet despite her aggression, curious now how far he intends to take it. How much has he touched others without intent to kill, she wonders. In his life of pain, had he known that intimacy was the greatest violence? Had he loved as much as he hated?
Pale eyes search his for answers with a newfound clarity while fingertips continue to trace along a jagged tattoo to follow it to another one of his horns, where she teases with a featherlight touch. This close, she can't resist exploring with a wonder, as though every part of him is reminiscent of the devils that have taken her in her dreams. ]
Is dinner over already?
[ She will be the first to admit that she tends to get carried away by her urges, and even now she's doing little to apologize for her transgression. He shouldn't bleed to death without her draining him, even with the rush of two hearts. She didn't bite anywhere too vital, it seems. ]
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He'd not yet released the fist that clenched her raven tresses. They pulled, exposing neck; his breath warm against her skin. Whispering into the shell of her ear. ] Still hungry, are you?
[ Maul did know a love. The kind of love that was born from a hate and still, if he thought too long on it, was a hate. It left a longing that had gone beyond what it meant to crave something with every fiber of your being. A fire so intense it could burn the world. He knew that violence as much as he knew the kind that came with spear and fresh blood. It wasn't in the passion of this kind of intimacy where that violence was truly damaging, though. It was in the soft parts. The gentle whispers. A false promise that things could be different.
This would not be gentle. Not with how his hand on her hip pierced the toughened skin just enough before the nails dragged around to the thick of her thigh. Not with how his teeth scraped along her jaw threatening to bite. Something warm, guttural, pulled from the put of his stomach as she played at his horns. Slow words, almost a whisper but not soft. No, they burned. ] 'Tis my place to serve you, Lady Ives. So make your request.
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[ With head tipped back, she’s barely listening to what he’s actually saying anymore. Touch rules her and impulse guides her. The sound of his blood pumping under his skin, with the unsteady rhythm of his breath on her skin, is more than enough to distract her from conversations, but something gets through.
Only she is rarely one to bother with requests. She knows how to act, to take. It’s what paved the way to her first death, why should now be any different? What was it that Lucifer had said? He'd said it right before he had pressed her to the dirty mattress where she had gasped for more, all while her mother's body lay on the floor with glazed eyes still wide from horror. You allowed all this to happen. Hell, you sought it out and fucked it.
She knew it then and she knows it now. Vanessa is vulgar, twisted chaos, and so will be anything she dares to touch. And why can’t she accept that? What’s left of her if she can’t still see the beauty in her vile need for loving and fucking and hurting to heal? Who is she if she lets it tame her?
Perhaps one request. ]
Vanessa.
[ By now she ought to have established that she’s no lady, and any titles she would bother to keep should be just as quickly abandoned when straddling the one trying to pay his ‘respects’. After all, she thinks if he wanted to at this moment, he could break her neck or even tear right into her throat with those teeth, and she would be too lost to sensation to be able to stop him. Something wants him to bite her until she’s raw.
Hadn’t she wanted to die? At least she wouldn’t be alone. She might even be remembered.
Only urged on by the threat that could turn into a promise, she’s quick to abandon any further reason, though she’s also remembering just how different the fashion here is. It’s far less complicated than Victorian dress had been, but still different enough that Vanessa resorts to blindly ripping at his clothing with one hand while her other flattens to the stained ground beside them. With his grip on her hair and the rest of her tangle falling over her eyes, she can barely see, but that isn't slowing her down.
Impatient? Assuredly.
She’s glad she had managed to find something like a skirt for herself on arrival, and wouldn’t have dared to bother with anything else. Despite the constriction of most fashion in her time, the underclothes had been the most freeing, to which she’s just as well off wearing nothing at all. And so it is. Some things do stay the same. ]
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They had a very different understanding of the world; of how things functioned. Women were permitted pleasure here and no such thing would be considered the act of sin. They were permitted whatever they liked, in fact. They fucked to breed, they fucked to express love, they fucked to enjoy themselves. She was very far from any place that considered the body holy in such a fashion that touching it was a disgrace.
But he liked this feral eagerness in her as her nails caught his skin every now and then while she tore and tugged him free of bindings. Not that he had many to begin with but such was not the point. And in her persuit for the warmth of his flesh, Maul had loosened the grip around the back of head to favor gliding over where he'd laid a mark in her shoulder. Biding his time, waiting for her to be lost in it so much that every last tentril of her influence had slipped away. His strength returned.
And here they were. More aptly, here she was with her back flat against the ground. Her knees nudged open with a hand as he sat back on his ankles between them to observe the mess that was her. ] Is it in how long its been that makes you so, hmm — [ Maul leaned forward, catching her chin in the web of his hand. Slowly clamping shut. Forcing her to look at him as his other hand crawled beneath the attire he knew so well to free the skin beneath it. ] Desperate, or are you just curious about fucking alien royalty?
[ He felt the familiar swell, the heat, but he was patient. For indeed, Vanessa, Maul knew well the violence of intimacy. A thumb pierced along her cheek just so as he exposed the soft of her breast. That hand made its way down, brushing over a nipple, smoothing over stomach until her clothes lay bunched around her waist and nowhere else. And his lips moved down to her collarbone, catching skin between teeth down along her sternum. The hand at her jaw slipped around her neck. And how easy it'd be for him to snap it. ]
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To be pinned, to be exposed leaves her vulnerable and strikes her with enough befuddlement that she doesn't at first know how to respond. Instead she murmurs something about black beasts under her breath, while nearby a raven caws from its perch on one of the fallen animals.
The prick of his thumb and scrape of his teeth are enough to keep her present so that she still remembers defiance, and her hand is quick then to grab at his wrist once he encircles her neck. So small and pale in contrast, but her nails could dig deeper and she could begin the utterance of a spell if she truly wanted to fight it, to test his patience until she could test no more. ...Maybe she isn't so eager to seek out a sudden death just yet.
Royalty, though? She releases a curious sound at the question, near between a sigh and a grunt. As if she cares for given titles beyond their fine use in keeping distance between her and others. Whatever burns in his blood is what drives her thirst, and now she can only think of a fighter before she would think of a prince. Then again, Vanessa would be loathe to call herself desperate, and for him to think she might admit it only stirs her ire. She owes him no explanation.
Where he's left her skin damp from sharp kisses, Vanessa can feel a slight chill that she presses for more of. Any cool tickle from the night air does little to lessen the flushed yearning in her. Pale as she is, she isn't cool to the touch; her heart still pumps blood that flows as hot as her temper. ]
Are you to keep asking questions, or are you to have your way with me?
[ No matter how different he appears from a common human, she knows desire when she sees it. No matter if its purely physical, he wouldn't be this willing if it was merely for servitude. He has her on her back where he wants her, doesn't he, and no matter how much she scratches at his wrist and how pale eyes glare from between dark tangles, her knees are still pulling further back while her other hand hikes up her skirt the rest of the way to make it simple.
Yes, yes she's desperate. Get on with it, she nearly demands. She knows how it is with men and she has never complained. Touch is touch. Release is release, however temporary. ]
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Yet for all the desire that filled him, and it did fill him, he was not mad with it. The more eager she showed herself to be the more he wanted to deny her. Just enough to pull her toward the edge. ] I am having my way with you. [ His voice heated; words mustered up from the pits of his gut where his desire showed; engorged and pulsing. ] Not in the way you seem so eager to accept. I'll try and make it worth your while all the same. [ Words that had bite beneath the tease in them.
It wasn't that, he knew. His status. Though appealing as it may be for some. His status had nothing to do with any of this. They had the both of them seen things; experienced things that hurt in ways so few could understand. If she wanted to know that he knew how much agony the touch of another could cause then he'd show her. He'd give her all the stories she wanted to hear in his lips that travelled down her stomach. Threatening with one hand and just soft enough with the other. In how he wanted to please, desperate to hear the low moans of pleasure; feeling the body let go and give in to him. It just wasn't her that he wanted it from. Not really. Maybe that would hurt the most. Maybe they could both pretend.
Intimate was the way he breathed in the scent of her skin further down along her hips where a mess of cloth laid though it no longer did much to keep her covered. Arms hooked tight around her legs to keep them open. His teeth bit into the soft parts of her inner thigh to tease before a hot tongue moved along the wet of her cunt. There he stayed licking a steady rhythm against her clit. ]
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What she expects least of all is the disarming warmth.
The gasp she lets out is more of a shudder. As his tongue travels until it finds the tight bundle of nerves that only she had known about, or so she had mistakenly thought, Vanessa is left with her breath constantly caught in her throat. It escapes with a husky gasp before she sucks the air back in to clench her teeth.
Why? He had her there for the taking, there was no need to try and seduce her, and she can’t imagine how he benefits from putting himself to work while dragging out his satisfaction.
Twisting again to one elbow so she can lean up and peer through her steadily growing daze, her head tips with a stare of some strange mix of captivation and shame, and immediately the speed of her pulse quickens. It’s a vision she hasn’t even known in her dreams, no matter the amount of demons that have taken her there. Her eyesight is unhindered by the dark, and while anyone might be able to see the glint of his piercings through the haze in the air, over the folds of bloodied fabric gathered around her waist, she can see how his tattoos flex at the strain of his arm and shoulder muscles growing taut, with red and black leading to a jagged circle of horns that she suspects could pierce her skin just as readily as his claws or teeth.
Instead the most dangerous weapon he has at the moment is the soft velvet of his tongue, only better contrasted by the even more alien feel of the small flash of metal that presses and flicks with his wet and merciless attentions.
She can feel the ache beneath his tongue tensing from the sight almost as much as the touch, and she’s unable to keep still. While one elbow holds to the ground for balance, she strains to press her hand over his, fingers fanning out to slide across the wrist she had earlier been scratching at. Vanessa can’t help but appreciate the feel and sight of him even as she struggles to keep from falling back down and completely losing all sense. ]
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He could imagine, actually. Were this another scenario that she'd find something sharp to cut his throat with just for daring to take from her the only power she thought she had; sex, her body. Was that it, he wondered? Frankly the thought of it did something for him but he was what he was. Perhaps she'd try to kill him after. Again.
The grip that kept her legs open to him was unyielding but his tongue was gentle, slow. Long strokes played around those nerves; steady for awhile before pausing to move down further. A hot sigh fled his lips; his body moved, curved and rolled in slow motion. Aching, desire in the nails that pierced her thighs. Those golden eyes flicked up to meet the gaze she tried to hold. They wore a smirk though his lips were hidden behind the fabric at her waist. He spoke something, voice hallowed out with a groan. Something not in a language she knew yet it seemed to amuse him. A promise, perhaps.
He's get her yet. His tongue returned to the folds of her. The cold metal on his tongue a stark contrast to the warmth of wet muscle and hot breath. Nails released then curved into her thighs and scratched slowly as if drumming long a table in wait for something. He moved away from her clit for now to the opening of her cunt. Tongue pushing in, drinking in the scent of her, the taste of her.
Here in the dirt among the carcasses of rotten meals laid the great Vanessa Ives on foreign lands so far from her home. There were no Gods watching for no Gods existed. There was only flesh in this moment and what pleasure it was that she had been so surprised by the thought that this was not about seduction at all. No, he was well aware of her wanting. He could taste it. And he would hold her captive here until he could feel her muscles shake. Until she asked if not by word but by moan and breath. ]
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Muddied nails dig past blood and dirt as though she wants to find out.
The whispers from earlier grow louder, taking form only she can see. They float down to sting at her bare skin like snowflakes, then they creep and crawl across her shoulders and breasts, into her mouth and eyes and— Her ears burn. The sky suddenly looks too close, as though the span of the universe is trying to bear down on her. Is she floating? No. Stars that aren’t even there are ready to crash down and burn the rest of her to ash. Are they stars? She can only tell that the light is blinding, that they roar like leviathans. It isn't salvation that they bring.
'Hmm!' A tight-lipped huff escapes through flared nostrils when the shift of his attention brings her back from the vision. Blinking wildly up at the red sky that’s exactly the way it was moments ago, she’s quick to forget it even happened, as she is wont to do in the heat of the moment. She’s here again, where a devil named Maul is lapping at and sinking into the wetness of her cunt as though it’s something to be revered instead of seized, and now that’s the only thing that exists in her vision when she closes her eyes.
Her toes brush against the width of his back when she’s unable to resist a slight jerk of her legs, and both feet are then quick to settle to the ground so she can push and rub against him with a subtle rolling of her hips. It isn’t conscious, but she can’t help herself. It may even be irresponsible given the threat of his teeth or even those pale horns that curve just near his ears, but she has never been very skilled at looking after herself. ]
You—
[ Finally, noise. Meaningless noise. Almost a word, low and hoarse. ]
Stop!
[ As if she’s really this stupid as if to try to stop him now—she might kill him if he did stop—and yet confusion is something she has never been able to tolerate any more than submission. She's never known this kind of attention; it frightens her not knowing what to expect from it.
Fighting through the bewilderment, Vanessa is quick to grab for him. First for his hand, then to grasp at the coarse base of one of his horns, where slender fingers curl in an attempt to keep him from doing anything so foolish as to actually listen to her.
Don’t you dare. ]
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He would make her beg, he would.
His body caved with the push of her toes and when she could no longer resist the quiver in her hips was when his grip on them let go. Skilled hands moved to explore the canvas of her skin. They travelled along the tender parts; along rib and breast. They stayed for awhile, gripping, kneading, caressing deep where he could feel her roll and tense into him.
And there it was. A hum, a mangled word, a slow and slight buck of her hips up into his mouth as his tongue continued to tease the opening of her. Hot breath pushed from his nostrils and along roused and sensitive flesh. Stop— he'd consider it, perhaps, if her body language didn't tell him otherwise. It was all he could do to keep a grin from spreading.
Per her hand's request he would not listen to the words that rushed out in frantic noise. His tongue pushed in again, the cool of metal pressing inside hot moist skin. At first, slow. Continuing the tease. Though soon enough a steady and hungry rhythm replaced it. Tongue fucking her cunt as deep as he could get; the smell of her arousal sending waves of need down his spine and into cock now engorged and near dripping.
He'd only stop to give attention, every now and then, to her clit now throbbing with ache beneath him. Maul wanted to hear her say it, ask for it, beg for it. And he was patient, though his breath was unsteady and his body felt consumed by a growing fire. His fingers curled where her hand had gripped his wrist. Shaken breath leaving him as his mouth met the roll of her hips with greed.
Only when she was close would he stop. He would not let her have release. Fight against the hands that may clamor at him to do otherwise and what a pleasure that was. Not yet. Lady Ives. Not yet. ]
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If not today, then tomorrow. ...Not that she would plan for a future; that’s as much an alien concept as women ruling over men.
At least he doesn’t simper. Anyone truly subservient would have been left for dead to be pecked at by the ravens. Resentment is better than nothing, and spite had once kept her alive longer than hope had—until it didn’t. She knows he doesn’t ‘serve’ without spite, but then that’s the only way she could even tolerate his touch.
Crave it, more like. The soft skin left bare to the night air is rarely seen by others, let alone touched. There’s the subtlest of leans when he caresses just beneath her rib or along the side of her breast, and there's a murmur uttered when he squeezes and pinches, sensitive but eager. It’s remarkable for such brutal hands to hold and tease for the sake of pleasure when they could just as easily tear deep through her insides. The knowing of it is enough for her to writhe, and with one hand biting into his wrist, the other flies back to push behind her head, as though burying her nails into the dirt will have even a chance of keeping her still. It only helps her arch more, hips lifting and thighs trembling.
He is quite the bastard for managing to get her this far. As his tongue pushes and rolls until its flush inside her, stroking again and again, the whispers are overcome by a soft hum in her ear. Eyes keep shut with a toss of her head whenever the little metal bud teases at her clit. Her own lip is bruised from her bites when his breath shudders hot against the ache of her cunt, and he sinks back into her with a rhythm that leaves her suspended and shaking. Both hearing and sight have dulled, lending all her favor to touch and feel and—
Now. Only now, she doesn’t need to know about anything else but now.
Too dazed to even be aware of it, her little gasps have given way to hushed moans that fall low and hoarse, the pace becoming more frantic as he continues to explore with a thoroughness that leaves her stunned. Her teeth grit and a heel drags at the ground to keep balance. He has had her off-kilter for some time, though.
She isn’t there, but she’s near enough that even she can taste it in the air. The words that struggle free are broken. ]
In— In me.
[ She can’t lose herself like this, not underneath him where he has thought to borrow power. Of course, he is in her, but she’s too flustered to elaborate. Can’t he tell? Doesn't he want it?
Pale knees draw back expectantly, an ankle trembling against his side. ]
F— Mm...! [ Both hands dig behind her and her chin tips back, struggling to talk through her jagged groans. ] Fuck me now.
[ This isn't begging. This is a demand. ]
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She had started this. He would finish it. His hands responded to the subtle way she moved and arched; the pressure beneath his thumbs and nails both threatened and soothed. Would he? As her body bucked into him and legs drew so close his horns broke skin at her inner thigh, would he cut down her check and crack her ribs back one by one to let the creatures feast? Would he feast himself?
He could. In other circumstances, he had.
Sex, after all, was a tool. Though Maul knew little of Vanessa yet he had a feeling she knew this. It could be many things; a power, a method of control. A way to manipulate. A means to an end. For pleasure, for procreation, for any number of things and theirs was not a culture that was precious about it. This, he had started to feel, was a war. Just between the two of them and he was more entrenched the the battle of hunger and lust than he's like to admit.
It was the quiet moans that pushed through her lips like they were dragged out against all attempt to keep them stifled that really did it for him; made his cock pulse and throat give to a smothered moan as his tongue worked inside her. Hands gripped where they had landed along her body and dug in to the skin below them. His breath came quicker, now. Toned musculature rolled with greed. Dirty knees; a palm slipping from flesh to ground and curling in. Begging the earth for control.
He, like her, was not interested in things so easily given. It was in the battle, whatever battle that might be, which he found true delight. That was to say that her words were beg enough; a ravished and throaty command that Maul understood just fine and he had half the mind to disobey as his body rolled up and golden eyes could fully look over the mess of her. And she was such a mess. Knowing the power she commanded made it all the more delectable.
Maul sat back on his ankles again as fingers grabbed her hips to drag her closer. The thick bulbous head of his cock dangerously settled at the opening of her cunt but no further. No words, just a look. ]
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The gall. Tossing her head to the side, Vanessa is unable to resist a gasp of a laugh. Then, with the same jagged voice that uttered the devil tongue from not so very long ago, his name is sounded out with a stretch until it breaks, twisting it until it’s growled out like the beginning of a spell. ]
Ma'aul.
[ Even still, he thinks to test her and she has no patience for it. He has a fine grip, but those claws don’t seem to worry her, and soon enough her own are digging deep into his throat as if ready to tear in. Her strength is hidden behind slender hands, but no doubt he can feel the possibilities by the time she has him knocked onto his back with his cock in her hand. Luckily, she has only the best intentions for it, and for herself. A small thumb brushes gently across the slick head before feeling down along the bulging veins with a flutter of shock in her eyes. He continues to surprise her, but so far she’s benefited well enough.
The grip around his neck loosens, but only to what may be considered a bruising degree for them—as if one could even notice any behind the spread of dark ink beneath his jaw. As soon as she has him under her, Vanessa drops to find the bite she had left behind—just beside her iron grip—which has already tamed but not so much that she can’t lap up what’s trickled free. Now her wet kisses smear blood from his jaw to the base of the horn jutting just beside his ear. The rough texture against the drag of her tongue is just as interesting to her as how his cock feels when it twitches under the slow stroke of her painfully light touch. There’s no doubt in what he wants, no matter why that is. She could smell his arousal, feel it from where his tongue pressed into her with his moan, long before she could see it with an appreciative glance. She's in agony resisting even this much, but her obstinacy has carried her through worse torture, and so she hovers.
Just above his line of sight, black tangles spill over a white face and bloodied lips stretch into a grin. Her throat feels thick from the fresh blood when she speaks, and the perversion of his name is growled out again to be woven into a snarl of words as though it belongs.
Quietly, though—creeping over scars to claw into the ear, and within the cave of his skull it brings a scorpion's sting in her command. ]
Itsi Ma'aul nat yenvagre.
[ Give yourself, Maul.
It isn't a full compulsion—the choice is always theirs—but the words carry a power that can be difficult to resist. Even the ground beneath them releases a soft thrum in response. ]
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It was this which he felt more than the nails that dug into his neck and the impressive strength he had come to know not too long ago. It was the darkness of the earth reaching her hands out from the pit of her gut to drag him down inside of her and once he finished screaming he'd thank her for it. What a torturous contrast to the ghostly touch of fingers as they slipped along the heat of his wet erection. Breath shuttered out against the cheek of her skin when she dropped in to lick away her leftovers.
And she spoke those words; though the language he did not know it felt familiar enough. She spoke to it though likely not intentional. She spoke through the darkside, she spoke through the wild ichor that flowed through all sisters who managed to work beyond the darkness and force it to submit to them and she commanded him. Break free. Open the wounds of violence; bleed the rage found deep in your belly and eat. Open those maws of wild lust, the carnal greed for flesh and release. Give in. How much he wanted to win; resist.
Yet his nails dug into Vanessa's shoulders and pulled her down to meet his mouth at the crook of her neck. Jagged teeth pierced the tough of her skin and trailed along jaw and shoulder. How he wanted it. Had been wanting it. Craved it enough to go mad. Blood drew from the nails that made hungry work down from her shoulders along the curve of her back to grip the rounds of her ass and guide her hips onto him. ]
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This sort of pain is too empowering to really be considered any sort of punishment. How must she look right now? Like the living dead that actually she is, no doubt.
When he pulls her down, she’s quick to grab at his shoulders for balance, but there’s no preparation for the sweet sting that follows. Suddenly she’s bound hot and tight around the likes of a man she wasn’t prepared for, despite how much she had supposedly observed. Every muscle within immediately coils like a spring, only then the jolt of her hips is involuntary, serving to bring out an unfiltered moan that drags low with the nails that tear across his skin. ]
[ She claws from his shoulder to below the collarbone with a quick swipe, needing to apply a surprising amount of pressure to draw any blood. Just scratches, but enough to give her a taste when she sucks at her fingertips, then shoves at his torn skin to fling herself back.
There, Vanessa arches into the air while sinking down again to see just how much she can take, and whenever the smooth bumps and ridges stretching across his cock find somewhere new with each stroke, little shivers tickle most torturously. Overwhelmed but frantic, she wastes no time in digging her knees into the dirt to ride him with a renewed fervor. Her breathing has become completely erratic, near reduced to nothing but little huffs and throaty moans when not taken over by her own trance.
Sucking the taste of him from her fingers, allowing the strength of his grip and his own eagerness to guide the fierce roll of her hips, Vanessa's head tips back so that glazed eyes can reflect the night sky. The air is brushing at her bloodied skin, tickling at her taut throat and nipples. Pale fingers bury into a mess of dark hair to twist and gather, all so she can feel the sky kissing along her naked shoulders and the nape of her neck. The night welcomes her, and she leans back at an almost unnatural angle to return the kiss with bloodied lips parted. ]
[ Blood has power, and she knows how to use it. Not just her own, but others’. With such a rich catalyst as his it’s all she can do to keep from reaching through him now, to drain his lifeblood down into the deep dark pit where she can tear into the planet's core and gnash it to smoldering black coals, to ash, to nothing. She could drink up the night before consuming the world—she could create it anew.
But not tonight. Tonight, she'll just have a taste. ]