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freedom-bluemoon-merged-rp

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It was the jolteon who seemed to see it coming before it even happened. His ears perked up and he stared at the calm blue sky. "Whats wr.." but before his trainer could say another word, the sky seemed to explode with activity. Storm clouds seemed to leak out of some unseen opening in the sky. A few in this world would see this and assume it was another catastrophy about to be caused by team rocket, galactic, magma, or any of those other crack job organizations hell bent on world domination. The two however had not been graced with such an experience and both looked up in awe as lightning began to streak through the sky. "Sparks....what is that?" his trainer asked, pointing up as the clouds began to swirl around violently, a hole opening like some sort of portal to the heavens. "It's either a flock of really pissed off looking whirlwind attack....or some sort of unnatural disaster," the jolteon spoke, his mane once again charging with eletricity as the sky crackled with energy. Both stood rooted to the ground, despite the danger. Both watched as the sky seemed to eject something out of the clouds, as the wind tunnel stretched down dangerously close, right in front of them in fact. As suddenly as the storm had come, it seemed to grow calm, though the sky still seemed dark and stormy. Sparks was the first to look and see what had happened as he heard the splash in the water. He was both awe struck, and rather confused as he looked at the pink creature. "What is it?" his trainer asked. The jolteon sniffed her gently "No idea...never smelt something like it," he said. Once his trainers pokedex confirmed it was an unknown species, they both wondered if it was some sort of new pokemon. "Should we try catching it...her?" the question was proposed. Sparks however shook his head "Lets wait for it to wake up, maybe it's....well I dunno I just want to see what happens," the Jolteon said.

The pink creature stayed still for a few moments more, before finally stirring awake a little, coughing up a little bit of water. Groaning, she slowly sat up, rubbing her temple, as she adjusted her outfit, standing, keeping her eyes shut. Her back to the duo, she opened her green eyes, blinking them a few times as she looked about in front of her, looking very confused. "Wait...what happened...? Where am I? Last I remember, I was on Emerald Hill, the wind picked up...now I'm here, wherever this is." Mumbling how she had gotten wet, she turned around, only to find the human and the...pointy thing beside him. Jumping back with a sound, she then growled, shaking her gloved fist. "What the hell? How dare you sneak up on me...whoever you are!" Taking a defensive stance, she got ready to dash if she needed to, taking another step away from them, out of the water. "Where...where is this? Who are you...and what are you?" She said, motioning towards Sparks, having never seen anything like him before, though, he did seem to remind her of someone, in some way. She sneezed lightly, shivering just a bit from having hit water to then stand up and get hit by wind, but she didn't let it bother her right now, she had other things to worry about.

The two where still as she came to consciousness. They watched as she stood up, fixed her cloths, which Sparks had thought might have been apart of her like some pokemon, and talk to herself. His ears twitched, her voice was pleasent, and other then the physical features, it now proved she was a girl. They stayed silent for some time while she took everything in. Sparks ears twitched at the mention of an emerald hill, and thought of jewels and shiny things for a split second. When she finally turned to look at them he stiffened a bit, half expecting, and hoping, she'd make some sort of attack. But that never came either. "Sneak up on you?" His trainer asked "We've been here for a few minutes now," he said rather unceremoniously. "And his name is Sparks," he said pointing at the jolteon. "I'm a jolteon, and thats my partner," he said. "As for where you are...we are in the continent called Sinnoh, and a few miles from Oreburgh city," Sparks spoke, his voice not cruel or any sort of unpleasent. His eyes stared at her. Her cloths clung to her so tightly from the water, he could make out her figure even more so, if he hadn;t already seen some when her cloths where nearly falling off. "Whats your name?" he asked her since he realied his name had been given, but he didn;t get hers in return just yet.

Canta growled a little towards the trainer, as she found his answer to be in a tone she didn't care for, nor did she usually like humans terribly much either. The Jolteon on the other hand...he seemed nice enough. Or, at least, was polite, unlike the man. Though, as they answered her questions, she just looked even more confused then before. "Sinnoh? Oreburgh? Jolteon? What...what is any of that? Dammit, I'm completely lost!" She grumbled to herself as she held her head, sighing, peaking a green eye at the male Jolteon. She had to admit, he wasn't that bad looking, but she kept her mind on the business at hand. "...Canta, my name is Canta. I'm a hedgehog." She added in at the end, looking about before she turned her back to the two once more, before turning back to them. "...You said a few miles from a town? Fine...I'll look there to see what happened." Just before she left, she moved past the two, then glanced to Sparks and smiled politely. "Thank you, Sparky." As she started to run, she found herself twenty feet away in the blink of an eye, before tripping and falling onto her ass. "Owwwww! What the hell...? I've never been that fast before...what the hell kind of place is this?" She whined and rubbed her bum lightly, which wasn't being covered the best by her skirt currently, giving a rather nice view of her pale pink undies from under the fishnet. "Great...now what?"

"I guess your not from around here," Sparks replied. Though that was painfully obvous, though she seemed dressed like most of the human girls he'd seen before. She looked like a pokemon of sorts. When she gave him her name and what she was he was just as confused as her. "What is a hedgehog?" he thought to himself, he guessed she must be something like a zigzagoon, or even a sort of sandslash or jolteon, though she was pink, and much to slim to be a sandslash. He guessed wherever she came from she was a common sort of thing. He wondered if a pokeball would still work on her, but rather then asking his trainer to throw one at her he decided maybe aother time she would allow him to test that theory. He stared at her long and hard and she moved a bit, he noticed she was very attractive indeed. He however felt a surge of eletricity course along his ears when she called him "Sparky" it was a cutesy sort of thing he didn;t like, but at the same time when she said it it made him blush. "Um..wait you shouldn;t wonder off alone without a pokemon," he told her. He blinked only to notice she suddenly ran twenty feet in the blink of an eye "Agility?" he wondered. He decided to keep up a bit and used agility without his trainers command and zoomed to catch up, though as he came close he noticed she was getting up and he caught a look under her skirt, which only made him suddenly surge with eletricity again.

Canta sighed a bit, brushing herself off as she shook her head, then her ear twitched as she looked to where Sparks was, a second before he got there. She sighed lightly, wishing he would just leave her to her misery. "And to answer you from before, I can take care of myself just fine. I can fight for myself." Tapping her left foot on the ground, she looked down at her shoes, which held up with her speed quite well, figuring they were kinda made to do that, she just wasn't sure for what sort of speed. "So, what do you want, Sparky? Do you just follow girls in skirts for the hell of it?" She said, chuckling, being rather sarcastic at the moment, showing she had an attitude, and was rather sassy when covering for worry. Still, she wondered why this pointy thing, this Jolteon, even bothered to check on her, he didn't really know her and she wasn't anything like him. "You know, you remind me of someone...must be the pointy-ness, the golden fur, the lack of pants...nah, couldn't be." She chuckled a bit more, padding over towards him, tracing a finger lightly under his chin, as she kept moving past him. "So, care to explain something? How did I get here? Since you and your human where watching me that whole time, apparently. What happened? Or are you just gonna leave this girl in the dark there, Sparky?" She had to admit, she was starting to like teasing with him by calling him that, it was rather catchy.

Sparks once more surged with embaressment as she seemed to think he was some sort of pervert, or a skirt chaser. "No...no...I mean I wouldn't mind followigng you around...I mean...I'm just concerned since your not from around here," he said realizing he said way to much. Only causing more archs of eletricity to jolt off his spiked man and even along his cheeks as he did his equivilence of blushing. As she trailed a finger under his chin, he found himself getting lost in her rather seductive gaze. He didn;t even seem to care she once again called him "Sparky" in an attempt to tease him. His eyes looked back at her before his blinked and realized she had just asked him to explain everything to her. "Well...I don;t really understand why or how your here...but you...literally came out of the sky," he told her and gave her a detailed recap about how the sky had suddenly become dark and stormy, and how the clouds opened up only to have her splash into the lake before them. "I mean...at first we thought maybe you where a pokemon....but well....I guess your a...h...hedgehog," he said remembering what she had called herself. "And I didn;t mean to say your helpless...it;s just that traveling alone can be dangerous, as well...some things lurk in the tall grass....pokemon who will attack you if your not careful."

"Out of the sky? Really? Huh...well, I guess I know what that wind tunnel did now. Where it came from hell if I know...but I'm sure it wasn't just randomly. Either way..." She smiled to him lightly, chuckling as she padded past him again, pacing back and forth, thinking. So, she was in another place, possibly another world, if they didn't know what a hedgehog was, but still had humans and other creatures...that seemed to be based on 'regular' animals. So, she could go off on her own, or stick around with this pointy cutie and his human, which, in a way, sounded like a better idea for now, having no idea about the area around her. Even she could fend for herself, best be near someone who knew their way around. So, turning back to face him, she moved right up to him, looking to his eyes, being just a little shorter then him and placed a finger on his nose. "Alright, Sparky, you win. I'll stick around with you and your human for a bit, but only until I learn out to get home. Then I'm juicing my way out of here." Smiling, she started to walk back towards the little camp, playfully swaying her hips a little for him, as she looked back to him. "And for your information, I'm sure I've already seen and faced things worse then something 'lurking in tall grass'. Now, if only I can get used to this..." She tried to run again, only going a short burst, then back, without falling this time. "Good...now to figure keep myself from tripping over my own when going further then that...oh, right." Looking back the the Jolteon, she tilted her head. "So, care to tell me more about this place as we head back?"

Sparks watched her pace baack and forth. He wondered what it was like where she came from, but that wasn;t the important matter. What was important was what she would do, she could probably outrun most things, anything she couldn;t outrun though would be trouble he guessed. Hisears perked up as she decided to stick around "Maybe your hear for a reason....hell today was boring before you suddenly showed up," he said. "If we figure a way to get you home, I'll gladly help you get back," he said to her with a smile. He watched her walk ahead, seeing her hips sway made him once more feel strange, but he shook it off. "I don;t doubt you'd faced...obsticles before...but it's just your not used to things here," he told her. "Besides your company would be...well I wont lie, I'd really like it," he admited. "As for where we are, well we are in sinnoh now, in this world there are thee major continent, Kanto, Johto, and Sinnoh," he told her. "Humans inhabit the world, but pokemon, what I am, we far much more numerous." he said. He explained how a trainer and pokemon worked together to acheive things, even telling her how relationships could be formed between them. He explained to her what a pokeball was, what battles where like, competitions, and how everyone in some way wanted to be the best of the best.

"How sweet of you." She said, chuckling lightly, keeping at his side for now, listening as he spoke to her, hearing about the world, how it was made up, the creatures and things within it...it all sounded interesting to her. Mostly due to it sounding completely different from her own world, which, more often then not, was facing some kind of threat, battle, or something along those lines. So, a place like this sounded...well, a lot more laid back, she thought. "Wow...really? That sounds different from my own world in a lot of ways, as I would have guessed. But still...this place seems to be massive, then, huh? And you all traveling by foot? At walking speeds?" She was curious, tilting her head and watching him, till something clicked for a moment. "Would you like to see what I can do aside from just running, Sparky?" She grinned to pointed to a small tree nearby, as she started to pad toward it, before jumping up and curling up, using her momentum to start spinning, looking like a pink and red buzzsaw as she sliced through the trunk, landing on her feet on the other side, as it shifted, and fell lopsidedly. Standing up, she grinned, chuckling as she looked to Sparks and winked. "So? Not too shabby, huh?"

His mother had always said that when the world goes to shit, keep up a hobby. Eoin kept plants, and by God, he kept them well. His little garden down in his lab-turned-home was sort of like a barometer for the condition of the world, an inverse relation between the beauty and majesty of those little ordered plants (all named and numbered, of course, in his tiny, neat writing) and the hell the outside world had become. The more work Frank had him do, the better he took care of the plants. Sometimes he mixed the two, work and home: people made a fantastic mulch. Tending his plants gave him a sort of peace that he could only now find in what had become personal experiments. He was a geologist, but the work Frankie had him on was completely unrelated to the untrained eye. To him, it was just his subject fast forwarded: a little pressure here, the meeting of two unmovable forces, some heat, wait a bit and people, societies were just like rocks. His job was to find where to place the TNT. He was good at that. Damned good. Sometimes, when he??d done particularly well, Fra??No,Atlaswas what he went by these days, but either way, he was still the same handsome, charming man ?? sometimes he sent flowers and a little hand written note with promises, sweet words and apologies for leaving him alone. At forty-three-God-damned-years-old, he couldn??t help but melt like ice dropped in a hot cup of coffee. In the beginning, his lab assistants, mostly women but all aware that he was an old fruit, would tease him fondly when he tucked away a new note into his breast pocket. They??d always go out for drinks afterwards, and the lanky Irishman, prim and proper and oh so very much the professor, would buy them all a few rounds, handsome face going as red as his hair as the night went on. They??d all stumble back to their own places or, if the need arouse, to someone else??s, stupid smiles on their faces as they bade each other good night. No one smiled at him anymore. And, instead of laughter, all he ever heard was the thump-thump-thump of a wrench as some poor sod tried to get into the lab, or perhaps the long screech of one of those hooked madmen. If he did hear laughing that was even worse: the only people that managed a good guffaw these days were completely rotted out in their brains. When he went out, he heard gunshots. No one messed with him, of course: he was Atlas?? man, easily recognizable since he no longer had to hide it. And if some of Ryan??s dogs came for him, well, he had access to more body guards than anyone other than Ryan himself. Atlas, after all, was too valuable to go out, so little ol?? Eoin did it. In the beginning, it had bothered him; but this was the right thing to do, right? Ryan was the one that hated charity and all, and Frank had seen the widening gap between the haves and the have nots and set out to fix it. Oh, sure, some of the methods were questionable, but wasn??t these days? If you could get bread in the mouths of hungry kids, what did it matter that a few two-bit wannabe mobsters ended up shot full of lead in the streets? And Frank spoke so gently to him, never called him names nor bit him with words; Eoin couldn??t believe half the things they said about what the man did. No, Frank was a good sort, and once this all settled down, Rapture would be better for it. Some days, if he spent enough time with his plants, he actually believed that lie, and that was enough to keep him jumping at the short wave radio as it crackled to life. He had to go set another charge in another crack in the unmovable wall that was Andrew Ryan. Because Eoin Griffiths knew that if you set enough and found the right spots, you could bring down any mountain. It was just a matter of time and pressure.

Dr. Winston was feeling unwell. It was the noise - he was sure that he would be fine without the noise, but it was pounding into his head in a way that made his vision pulsate and left him sitting with his face in his hands because moving made him feel sick to his stomach - it made his small, glass-encased world spin out of control. He had work to do, didn't they know that? He had work to do, and they just kept making noise, causing a racket just on the other side of the door - he'd lost track of how long it had been since he'd had peace and quiet, it might have been days or weeks, but it seemed like an eternity because they just wouldn't stop, they wouldn't leave him to his work. He had to finish his work; people were relying on him to finish it, needed it done faster, needed it done yesterday, but he'd lost his last assistant not so long ago - he had really lost her and he had no idea where she had gone to either. It occurred to him that there used to be other people in the lab too, but they were gone as well, he just couldn't quite remember where they'd gone to, he just knew they were gone - - but that wasn't important, what was important was finishing his work. He just needed some quiet. He just needed a little peace so he could finish up, that was all. If he could have that, then he could get it done; it was important after all. As he walked around the stainless steel table, the heel of his boot dragged through a thick, congealing pool of blood and smeared across the otherwise pristine white floor. Kevin wasn't entirely sure what to do; he didn't usually make these sorts of decisions. He hadn't even really made the decision to move to Rapture, he'd just thought it sounded nice and he'd gone because his brother would be there, but he had been a little strange lately and hadn't come around since New Years - that was nearly two weeks ago - and that meant that Kevin would have to decide what to do on his own. He picked his brain for the solution and discovered it wasn't coming easily to him because, really, this wasn't something he'd had to think about before. He'd managed to bar his front door shut using a tea trolley, but the wild thrashing on the other side didn't seem to be dying down; it had been happening a lot lately, but they usually gave up after a few minutes - this one had kept on for nearing an hour now, and it was making him think he might actually have to do something about it. Rapture had gone funny lately, and since New Years people had begun to act strangely - it had started off small, reports of violent attacks within the city. It happened sometimes, even in a place like Rapture, but after a day or two the reports had become more frequent until they had stopped coming altogether and now the radio would only play smooth jazz and had stopped giving any news at all. Initially, Kevin had thought this might be a good sign; maybe there was just nothing to report, but he became certain something was off around the time people had started trying to knife his door open. They screamed, too; not a normal sort of scream either - it was a piercing shriek and usually they were talking, but it was a lot of nonsense and they kept trying to get in. Generally he would just turn up the radio and wait for them to go away like unwanted Jehovah's witnesses, and usually it worked, but this one was very persistant and Kevin was sitting on the floor in front of the tea trolley trying to figure out what he should do about it. He reached up and plucked a stale sugar cookie from the tray above him and quietly chewed on it; he didn't want to go out there - that was pretty clear. Of course, he couldn't stay in his living room forever either - eventually he would need to leave. He'd stopped worrying about getting to work; he was sure that his excuse was a legitimate one - people were constantly trying to get into his home with sharp things. Not just one person, either, it was all different ones and it was just good carpentry that had kept them out. There was another of those piercing shrieks and the trolley rattled against Kevin's back so hard that he peered over the edge of it and found the end of what appeared to be a glaive sticking through his door, the tip roughly an inch from his own eye. Kevin swallowed the bit of cookie as the blade was wrenched from the other side and pulled back out; over the weeks, the door had started to splinter in places, and now there was a sizeable hole that he could see through and out the other side - and he found a bloodshot eye looking back at him through it. "Please go away." Kevin whined, leaning against the trolley as the pounding on the door began again, and the eye was gone, so he could only assume the person on the other side was throwing herself against it. Alright, maybe being polite wasn't the solution, "I really - um, if you're trying to sell something, this is honestly getting ridiculous. Do you have a manager? I might need to speak to him." He was answered with a series of incoherent shrieks, more pounding; the door splintered, "Look, you sound like a reasonable person," he lied loudly, trying to make himself heard over the uncontrolled screaming, "Can't we just talk this over? In fact, we don't even need to talk - you could just stop trying to knock my door down and go away, and this will be solved. I'll even deal with the damage myself - I can fix it, no problem. Really." The pounding stopped. The noise stopped. Everything stopped except for Kevin's breathing and he stood there for a long moment, stone still, listening for anything - there was nothing. He let out a breath of relief - only slightly too soon, because then there was hammering and the sound of metal on metal. He barely had time to think because the door was suddenly gone, and all that was standing between him and the crazed woman was the flimsy cart and a tray of cookies; she was short and squat, middle-aged, dressed in a blood-stained purple frock, and her eyes were rolling around in their sockets without any real purpose. And she was very heavy, Kevin discovered as he tried to keep her away from his throat; he didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt anyone. She was strong though; too strong. He knew he should have been able to hold her off of him physically, but the power she was exerting was tremendous, and he ended up reaching for anything he could get a hold of - which turned out to be a stainless steel serving tray - and cracked her across the head with it until she stopped trying to kill him. And unfortunately, that didn't happen until there was a lot of blood everywhere, and Kevin stood clutching the badly dented tray over his head, ready to strike again if the need arose, but it finally registered that there wasn't much left to hit. "Oh god." he said. This was why he didn't usually make decisions.

Eoin stared at the radio. He had thought? It was silent, but he could have sworn he had heard something. The geologist wandered away to his office in a daze, barely registering one of the many cats he??d taken in when the city went insane. They were easy to feed: there was no end of healthy bodies these days, and felines were meat eaters, the damned things ate more often then he did. He floated past, pulled open a heavy, metal door, shivering from the icy air. He had processed the meat before freezing, before rigor mortis had set in. Had even shocked the smaller hunks of corpse to keep it from getting hard: cats might not be as picky as humans, but he didn??t want the poor dears to break a tooth on some useless mobster??s left buttock. The scientist selected a cut from a drawer labeled in the same careful, flowing script from the garden ??soleus??, pulled out the paper-wrapped meat and returned to his office to leave it defrost in a cool bowl of water. A low ??meow?? greeted him, and his handsome face brightened as he reached down to pet one of the cats that had fallen asleep on the desk, a pretty black thing with green eyes and a long tail. This time, when the radio went off, there was honestly a voice at the other end. Not Frank??s; no, he only got that when he had done very well or if the job was deathly important. This was different: they??d caught some of Ryan??s men trying to break into a lab housing? well, Eoin didn??t really know. Frank was smart enough to keep his organization compartmentalized so leaks anywhere could be stopped up, very much like Rapture herself, only this time with lack of knowledge. And ignorance worked just as well as any airtight bulkhead. But Ryan??s men wanted something, Frank wanted it protected, so Eoin was called out. As soon as the static from the radio had died down, the redhead had gone off and found himself a half-full bottle of whiskey, poured the alcohol onto ice hacked from the same freezer he kept the meat in, and waited. Ten minutes or ten hours later, the constant noise of insane citizens trying to get into his door grew to a cacophony then abruptly stopped, and Eoin knew his escort was at the door. He had tucked in his shirt, pulled on his suspenders and jacket and stepped out into the care of four very well armed men. Frank might barely see him these days, but he always made sure he was well cared for on these little trips out; Eoin might have chalked that up to kindness if he wasn??t a sensible man. After all, he was Atlas?? man, through and through, his useful lap dog. Perhaps he should have gone for more than half a bottle. The trip was a whirl of noise and blood, something Eoin had learned to ignore so he could function. He was a shy thing, unused to loud noises and lots of people, and the stress was just a little too much. Better that he let his bodyguards deal with the random assortment of splicers and desperate men that jumped out at them, that waited to ambush and found quick death at the business end of a shotgun. Eoin himself had a pistol tucked away under his jacket, but that was a last resort. Besides, there wasn??t much in this city worth seeing these days; he hadn??t come to Rapture because he wanted to watch babes strangled in their cribs. It??d only been a fortnight since the world fell apart, and already the lower class folks were feeling the pangs of interrupted ADAM. One ugly night, he had watched a pack of what used to be human beings tear into a small family, Ma, Da, and the wee one, a family that had probably just been trying to flee to higher ground. Not that there was anywhere to flee: Ryan had as good as murdered them, sealing them up in this little underwater Bedlam. He had nearly drunk himself to death after that episode, and maybe Frank had given him time to recover, or maybe he simply hadn??t heard the radio. He had yelled an awful lot, then, he remembered, so much the plants seemed to tremble (though, logically, that was probably the alcohol) because they had known this would happen. Or maybe it had just been him. Ryan would rather everyone go down with the ship than let that ship go to Fontaine. Eoin was still finding glass from the things he broke that session. This evening would be easier. The only thing they??d see kill tonight would be some of Ryan??s grunts: people that weren??t really people these days, with melting features and brains with more holes in them than a sponge. Eoin didn??t see that as killing so much as putting down; it was an act of mercy. ??Griffiths, sir?? A voice in a thick, Bronx accent pulled him from his thoughts, and Eoin smiled. The guy that was talking was big, almost Big Daddy big and carried around a giant gun that Eoin figured weighed as much as his own mother, God rest her soul. He had a big, stupid face that looked like it had been formed out of mud that hadn??t had the time to dry before it??d been pulled out of the mold, skin sagging over a rough, angular frame. ??They says they got the two in there, sir. You best to be gettin?? in.? Eoin doffed his head and stepped past into the warehouse, one of Fontaine??s old fisheries. The walls were thick here, making it a good place for putting dogs down. The two men were tied to chairs that looked like they had been wheeled out of someone??s office, more brutes with arms as big as Eoin??s waist were waiting, along with a clever, weasel of a man. It was him he addressed. ??Have they spoken, Mr. Evans?? The redhead pulled his fedora off, followed by his suit jacket. ??No, Mr. Griffiths.? The man had a voice like oil and every time they spoke Eoin felt dirty for it, like he had to go home and wash. Eoin responded with a soft grunt in the affirmative, dropping off his jacket on the table, next to the empty bottles and the ashtray. ??We figured you??d wanna be here. It??s about that doctor.? Evans pulled away as Eoin turned, examining the prisoners. They??d spliced too much and with the drop in ADAM lately, well, they were suffering for it. But they were both still sane, two pairs of lopsided eyes stared up at him. ??Good evening, gentleman,? he started politely, Irish accent smooth and calming. Or it should have been. One snarled and said, ??What, Atlas sent his little fag?? Eoin??s face didn??t change as he rolled up his sleeves: it was still the same, pleasant expression that belonged in the classroom or a lab and not in an old room that smelled of fish and urine. The scientist reached for one of those empty bottles and smashed it against the old table, the sound of glass tinkling, echoing against the high walls that shimmered with the patterns of illuminated water. Evans pulled away, a nasty smile on his face and body curled in expectation as Atlas?? little fag came over with the now deadly bottle. He didn't try to strike up conversation this time: instead, he took the clear glass and mashed it into the man??s face, starting down low so he wouldn??t damage anything vital at first. The first jab lanced his lips, his jaw. The next, his nose. Eoin lost count, ignored the sound of the man screaming. By the time he??d destroyed the eyes, there was a gurgle that soon cut out. He wasn??t strong, not at all, but this was a matter of properly applied pressure. Evans was chuckling, and Eoin let the bottle slide from his hand to the floor before resting his manicured hands on shoulders that were still warm so he could turn the body around to face his friend. Evans, the sick bastard, was gleefully doing the same to the living one. ??Now,? he said carefully, hands sliding up to hold the ruined head still. The second man??s eyes were wide as he took in the ruined mess that had used to be his? friend, coworker, whatever: the face was bloodied, unrecognizable as human, simply a pudding of blood, bone, brain, snot and muscle. He looked up to see caramel-colored eyes staring calmly back at him, pressed white shirt clean but forearms stained with blood. ??I believe we have a few questions for you.? The live one stared and stared and stared some more, his third eye open so his chin was nearly touching his chest. Then he swallowed and nodded, and Eoin didn??t even have to ask questions: the information came out, jumbled, but all of it, none of it warped by guile. Eoin smiled, then straightened and said, ??Right. Evans, I??ll leave it to you to take care of this man. Feed him his friend??s dick, if you like.? ??Yessir.? So maybe ??fag?? had upset him more than he admitted. By the time he swept out, he could hear a muffled sort of whimpering.

Dr. Winston sat primly on his swivel chair and carefully performed surgery on his toast via a butter knife; next to him was a small, steaming china cup of tea that he couldn't remember making, but he knew he must have because he was the only one in the lab. WherehadSarah gone, anyways? They used to play chess during moments like these, and now the board sat sadly untouched - though it hadn't gathered any dust, because that sort of thing just didn't happen, he wouldn't allow it. Whenever Sarah got back, she could move her next piece and he wouldn't touch the board until she did - it was her move, after all, and he didn't cheat, cheaters never prospered and besides that, Sarah would know - she had an excellent memory, it was just one of the many reasons she was such a fantastic scientist. He had a good memory too - or at least, he'd thought he did, but things had been a little fuzzy lately. For instance, he couldn't for the life of him remember how he had ended up with teeth marks on his arm; he frowned at the angry red ring of cuts just below his wristbone - it was incredibly sore, and - wasn't it a little strange, a human bite mark? Surely there was something not right about that, didn't that mean someone had - - the radio built into the wall began to crackle, and then music began to filter through. Unforgettable, that's what you are. Winston paused with his fingers just ghosting near the cuts, frozen in silent attentiveness. Unforgettable, through near or far. He looked puzzled for a moment, his thin eyebrows furrowing - what had he just been thinking about? Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me, never before has someone been more, unforgettable in every way. And forever more, that's how you'll stay. He rose suddenly, mechanically, and crossed the room, he lifted up a small medical bag and he picked a key up off the coat rack and then slid it aside; the backboard slid with it, and revealed a small doorway - he passed through it, and he removed a large syringe from the bag at the same time, closing the door behind him with his foot. Another voice could be heard then, heavy with an accent and pleading: "Nein, no, no, no - not again!" There was a soft click, followed by a choked sound of pain and then silence. Dr. Winston came back out holding the empty syringe, pushed the coat hanger back into place, and returned to his tea. That's why darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too. Kevin wore his utility belt; he wore it because he couldn't help feeling that, somehow, it would come in handy - after all, a tradesman should never be without his tools and this was no exception because there really wasn't a rule book for this sort of thing. He had stepped out of his home now, partly because the door was missing and partly because there was mashed bits of brain all over his living room now, but mostly because he was quite certain something wasn't right. "Excuse me," Kevin said; he had made his way to one of the many glass hallways, and up until then, he hadn't encountered anyone - he had felt a small measure of relief when he had found a man standing at the base of the staircase; he tapped the man gently on the shoulder, "Excuse me, sir? I wonder if you could help me, please. It's just that I'm not sure -" The man spun around slowly, and Kevin's voice died in his throat when he realized the man was wearing a paper mache rabbit mask. Kevin closed his mouth and swallowed, licked his lips, shifted his feet uncomfortably and glanced around as the rabbit-man stared at him. "Erm," Kevin said, finger still in the air, and he watched as the man's shoulders lifted and fell with his heaving breath, "You - you know what - nevermind." He put his hands up in front of him, "I'm fine. Go back to looking at the stairwell. I'm just going to walk over here." Kevin said, and pointed to the right. When he turned to go in that direction, he found himself looking at a paper mache pig mask; he wrung his hands, "There's going to be one of you behind me now, isn't there?" He didn't turn around, he just pulled a wrench from his tool belt and did the best he could.

The security door glowed coolly under the low lights from outside. Something big and aquatic floated by, casting a warped shadow across the security door that wandered along the metal at the same lazy speed. Eoin wasn??t quite sure if the sight was nightmarish or just surreal; something outside groaned, perhaps one of those giant golems or perhaps it was the sound of Rapture??s slow, steady death. There was the banging, too, the constant sound of a renegade monster searching for a little, baby escort. The redhead wanted to shiver but instead said in a calm, clear voice that he couldn??t recognize, ??So how do we go about entering this place?? Another bang. Louder. ??We could rope one of those Big Daddies up for us.? Eoin turned his head toward his left, not looking at the quarter of his escort that had spoken, but listening. No, his eyes were still stuck on the door: they??d think he was still considering the massive amount of steel but instead his mind was trying to translate what they had just said. Rope a Big Daddy? Why, one would need to be a Little Sister to catch their attention in a way that didn??t end up with one of the monsters drilling a new whole into a person. Of course, when The Boss didn??t speak, Muscles #3 continued, filling in the silence and the faint sound of screaming. ??Mr. Atlas gave it to us, sir,? he said nervously. Even someone who could crush a man??s chest in with one hand was afraid of the nutty splicers. One or two, now, that was fine. But sometimes the lunatics managed to band together and then one had a pack of beings that laughed like hyenas but wielded weapons like men. ??Scrambles their brains for a bit. Makes ??em think you??re a Little Sister. One of them drills would work real nice.? A sharp, piercing scream that sent all of their hands to their weapons. A woman??s voice, maybe, or a child??s. The sound was cut off quickly and somewhere above metal and wood clattered about. The banging had stopped. There was an echoing sound of heavy boots shuffling and though Big Daddies didn??t bother anyone that didn??t mess with them first, the middle-aged man felt a panic attack threaten to close down his windpipe. ????Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace and rest can never dwell, hope never comes,??? Eoin muttered miserably, and Number Three gave him a stupid, dull look. Even afraid, Eoin had a moment where he hated the guard and his flat gaze. There was nothing there, all the lights turned off, soda without the pop. The geologist wanted to pluck out his eyes with his old rock hammer, mash them up and rub them into the empty sockets for all the good they did the dullard. The moment passed and he hissed: ??Well, go on, man. Don??t just stand there and lollygag. Move.? Another rattle. Eoin stepped back into the shadow of another guard, Muscle #1, a large, dark bear of a man, his favourite. Sometime ago, he??d lost his tongue, literally, and the Irishman appreciated not having to listen to unintelligent garbage from him. He hated this place. Ssssssss.? She hissed along with her hooks, pleased, oh so very pleased at the sound of metal sliding on metal, sending off sparks and infintesimely small shards of steel that she could practically taste. Her face was curled, lips twisted into a smile, anenrapturedsmile, nearly orgasmic, nearly talking-in-tongues, high-on-jazz-and-booze-and-medicines-cooked-up-in-little-labs orgasmic.Ssssssssssssss.She let out a startled bark of laughter, snickering as it echoed along the glass walls, and even the water outside seemed to shimmer with her voice. She was powerful. She was power. She could hear the EVE singing in her veins, pretty, oh so pretty blue, so pretty, so very much like the pretty ocean and like those pretty cocktails they served down in the dark bars of Harlem and Atlanta and she missed them so much, so very much, but she didn??t miss the being afraid, didn??t miss being ??Sweet Thing?? and ??that high yellow girl?? when here she was the toughest thing on the block and on the roof and her hooks sang soprano when she went for her prey. ??Maaaaaaaaaybeeeeee.? Her voice was reedy, voice hoarse from abuse. She screamed lots these days. ??Youuuuuuuu??ll think of meeeeeeee.? The Inkspots had never been sung such a way: her voice was a creepy rasp, sending even other splicers running. She was the toughest thing on the block. She was big in a little package. She glided down the stairs with all the air of a queen surveying her kingdom. ??When youuuuuuuuuu are all...? Ssssssssssssss. ??Alooooooneee.?

Strictly speaking, Kevin wasn't a fighter; he'd never really fought as a child, and he'd certainly had sensibilities about avoiding it now as an adult, but surrounded by a trio of knife-wielding crazies, he found that Things Just Happened - somewhere along the line, he had taken out his hammer as well, and now one of them had run away, another was on the ground shrieking, and the third had become a new storage space for his wrench because it was presently embedded in the top of the man's skull. It wasn't that Kevin was violent - far from it, in fact, but some part of himself he hadn't been entirely aware of up until then fully understood the neccessity of what he was doing, because if he didn't get away from these men, he would never be able to find his brother. He evened his breathing, which sounded harsh in the sudden silence of the wide hall, and he looked around himself, suddenly nervous again - were there others nearby, had they heard all of the commotion, and would they be able to help them or would they be exactly like these people had been? He'd killed two men, now, but he didn't want to think about it, he would think about it later. The shriek of metal on metal caught his attention; Kevin looked up from where he was standing and his eyes swivelled to the staircase; there was something coming down the steps at a full on run, and this time when fight or flight kicked in, the carpenter took the second option and ran for his life, because sometimes that really was the best option. The metal stoppers of a chair squeaked as they were dragged across the cement floor, propelled by the thick rubber soles of a pair of large steel-toe boots; the attached legs were strapped to the chair via carefully placed medical restraints, so the progress of the chair could only be measured in centimetres. A hoarse voice spoke, but to no one in particular, "Oh ja, this vas brilliant," he said, pausing to tug irritably at the straps on his arms, "'No,'I said,'I vill not stay in East Germany, I don't like this wall idea',I said,'It seems like it could be another attempt to suppress us - no, I von't take a job mit der biological warfare research unit, no, I haff been offered better opportunities, down in der bottom of der motherfucking sea!'" Otto didn't even know where he was anymore; he had been blindfolded for what felt like days now, shoved around from room to room with his arms tied behind him until he'd been shoved into this chair and kept there with nothing, save for the intervals where he would hear the door open - he knew the footsteps now, though at first he had barely been able to hear them because the man was so light on his feet, but then there was always the smell - it was distinct, something astringent mixed with the odd scent of tea and pine. Then came the hands, which were disgustingly gentle for what they did to him; they would cut him open, make him bleed, and they were always carefully measured cuts, like the wielder of the knife was using a ruler to measure it out, and the needle would always follow - the ADAM, the injection that automatically healed the wound but still left him twitching from the ghost of pain. His torturer never spoke to him but would sometimes hum gently while he did his work, always the same tune, and then it was done as quickly as it had started, and he was left in the room again, in darkness and silence. He wanted out. He wanted out before he came back again, because he could feel it after every injection - something inside of him was changing now, something terrible was happening to his body, and he knew that each syringe full of that poison would only make it worse. He needed to get out. The chair squeaked again, the back of it struck something solid; he could use his fingers enough to feel out the smooth metal of stainless steel - there was an operating table behind him, and that particular knowledge caused a sudden lurch in the German's stomach. It probably would have lurched even more if he had known there was someone's head on the table.

Gargoyles: Whitestone Chronicles Gargoyles: Whitestone Chronicles Whitestone Keep had kept its vigil over the English Channel for centuries, perched atop the White Cliffs of Dover as a silent guardian for as long as anyone could remember. Once used as a lookout against invading forces, it had long ago been abandoned and left to crumble away into the sea. But the castle had stubbornly refused to surrender, even as its defensive walls crumbled and the keep was overgrown by moss and ivy, it stood proudly, a battered warrior of a time gone by. Perched on the roof of the keep, strangely untouched by the elements that had ravaged its surroundings, was a single statue, the lone defender of the crumbling castle. The stone figure watched the sunset with sightless eyes, the pale stone bathed in an orange light. The sun sank steadily towards the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of golds, reds, and violets. The air began to still, the only sounds were the faint crashing of the waves at the base of the cliffs and the chirping of crickets in the grass. Finally, the glowing orb disappeared below the edge of the sky, the last rays clinging desperately to life for a few moments before fading away. Once the darkness fell, a new life stirred within the castle grounds. The statue ?? a Gargoyle sitting in a thoughtful pose ?? seemed to tremble, cracks forming in the light gray stone. They spread, snaking from its taloned feet all the way to the wild-looking mane upon its head. The stone began to chip and fall away, as something tried to escape from the confines of the statue. Finally, with a crash of falling stone, the Gargoyle burst forth, spreading her wings widely as she stretched and yawned. Her ivory skin seemed to glow in the pale light of the rising moon as she stood over her ??kingdom??. Shrugging off the last chips of stone, she flapped her wings briefly and vaulted from the roof, gliding over the defensive walls and out past the cliffs. The ocean below her was a sheet of inky water and foam, the crashing surface laced with slivers of the moon. The Gargoyle smiled softly to herself, using the updraft from the sea below to give her lift, letting her swoop with grace up and into the sky. Her name was Ellice. She??d been living at Whitestone Keep for?as long as she could remember. The Keep had been her life, given her shelter. Kept her safe. She might have lacked a Clan, but she knew that it was for the best. Her white skin stood out too much at night, and having not wanted to be a burden and danger to her Clan, she had run off when she was but a hatchling. Having lived most of her life here, she hadn??t seen another Gargoyle since she had ran away ?? but even the memories of her parents and siblings were growing distant and hard to recall. She flared her wings and turned back to the castle, clearing the sheer edge of the cliff with ease, swooping up over the wall and landing with a soft noise in the grass. She walked around the courtyard, the grounds overrun with weeds and ivy. It was a quiet retreat for her, a place where she would relax and meditate each night before setting about repairing the castle as best as she could. She was part of the reason that Whitestone was as in good of a condition as it was in. She had spent decades replacing and maintaining the bricks and stones that made up the castle walls. Still, her youthful appearance and nature showed that she was still ?? in the terms of her species ?? barely into her 20s. Quietly, she sat down cross-legged in the grass, closing her eyes and smiling. ??Good evening, my friends?? She spoke softly, her voice mature, but her tone innocent, almost childish. Across from her was a collection of nests, where a group of hawks had taken claim as their home. They had been her family, teaching her the ways of how to survive. ??It??s going to be a busy night tonight?? She looked up at the castle walls that she was constantly repairing, and the pile of collected stones that she had piled up to use. ??But first?? Her stomach growled??Breakfast?? She giggled to herself, standing to her feet. Ellice dug her claws into the rock wall, climbing up to one of the still-standing towers, looking quietly out at the inky sheet of water below. In the light of the moon, she could see the land on the other side of the Big River. Often, she had wondered what was over there, but it was simply too far for her to glide to. She smiled again, licking her lips as she spread her wings wide, leaping out towards the edge of the cliffs once more. She dove down towards the water, much like her friends would do, building up speed to catch the fish by surprise. As she neared the surface of the water, she quickly angled her wings and almost snapped horizontal, raking her clawed hands into the water, sending a spray of cool water flying. She felt something hit her talons, and clutched her hands tight, swooping back into the sky. She smiled, lifting the stunned fish to look at it. It was a big one, a very good meal. She banked back towards the cliffs, using the updrafts to lift her once more. She landed carefully, folding her wings back against her. "I am sorry, friend. But I must eat..." She said softly, almost mournfully, to the fish that was now flopping around in her hands. She pinched quickly behind the fish's head and it went still. She quietly walked over to the fire pit she had made, pushing the fish onto a stick. Using two stones and a pile of dry grass, she quickly started a fire, propping the fish up over it and waiting.

Whitestone Keep... It was much farther out of the way than he had expected. Mathias Zane, heir to the Zane estate, was arriving at the broken castle which he had just purchased with much of his grand inheritance, much to the rest of his family's chagrin. Instead of settling down in a rich mansion with a rich wife popping out rich heirs for the rich family, he finally achieved his youthful dream of buying the keep that had once belonged to his family in the days gone by. Days in which this keep was in much better repair. Popping the door of his black sedan open, he stepped out and took a good look at how his new project looked in the moonlight. He had been hoping to get here at least a few hours before sunset, so he could have a clearer look around. He'd seen it before, but was never allowed closer for safety reasons. The place was in horribly poor repair, and even with only the moonlight to shine over the stones, he could see that a rock could fall out of place if a bird so much as crapped on it. Luckily, that is why he brought his hat! It was a helmet, to be precise, one of those mining safety helmets with a light on the top. Pulling it out of his car, he strapped it under his chin, his dark, shoulder-length hair curling just before his neck as it was forced against his scalp by the safety apparatus. He unbuttoned his 'good shirt', leaving only the white undershirt to complement the black jeans he wore. Sure, they weren't 800 dollar clothes, but he was the black sheep of the family. Might as well wear the wool. Flicking the headlight on, he closed his car door and locked it with a touch of his remote. The two quick cheeps was all he needed to get moving, placing the keys back in his pocket. Before he pulled them out, though, he felt the pictures of the castle the previous owner had taken. He withdrew them as he started walking towards the outer gate, flipping through them as he compared them to the real deal. It all looked the same, and even though the pictures were taken during the day, the moon and stars were so perfect and bright out here, away from the city lights, that it might as well have been a cloudless, sunny day to his eyes. God he loved the night. As he grew closer to the main gate, he continued looking at the pictures, his brow furrowing for a second after seeing one in particular. He looked to the keep, then back to the picture, the keep again, and gave a sigh. That pretty gargoyle statue he liked must have fallen. Now that was a shame... it was such a unique piece. It seemed to be made out of solid stone, though, so maybe it didn't shatter too badly where it hit the ground. If he was lucky, maybe he'd find enough pieces to put it back together, or at least use it as a reference to have another made. With a smile, he stood at the main gate. A sane person would have waited until daytime, or at least taken a friend along for safety. But a sane person did not just buy a castle with the hopes of restoring it to its former glory and creating a legacy that only his oldest of ancestors could claim to. So in he strolled, using the pictures as a guideline to find where the beautiful stone gargoyle had fallen.

The fish had just started to cook, steam rising up from the scaled flesh when she first picked up the sounds of something new, something she had not heard before. Ellice looked up from the glow of the fire, cocking her head slightly as she listened to it grow closer, a loud, unnatural sound. Bright, unknown lights shone through some of the holes in the walls, playing across her ivory flesh. She looked quickly to her sleeping friends, raising a finger to her lips. "Be quiet, my friends. I will be back..." she whispered to them, quickly climbing the wall to give herself a better vantage point. Was this new thing something dangerous? Or was it a new friend? Ellice kept low as she peeked over the edge of the wall at the strange...thing...below her. Two bright lights, brighter than any torch or fire, shone upon the stone walls of the castle. A loud, feral growling came from the beast, making her claws grip a little tighter into the stone, if she had to defend her home, she would. But something within the beast moved, part of it opening to step out. She blinked in confusion and surprise, looking upon the unknown figure. He ?? it was certainly a male by the looks - looked much different than herself. No wings, no tail...he was not a Gargoyle...what was he? Was it a human? She knew that she had hidden from the humans to keep her Clan safe. And now one was here! Ellice kept herself hidden as he approached the castle, a strange torch resting upon his head. She quickly ducked down when his gaze turned upward, pressing herself to the floor until the beam of light fell away from her. She crept along the top of the castle wall, looking over the other side of the wall as he entered, following him as he explored the castle grounds. It started to make her feel a little nervous. She saw her small garden, the piles of rocks she had made to fix the walls, and knew that he could see them too. She could also smell the fish; it was getting close to being done. If she waited too long to retrieve it, it would be ruined, and she would not be able to eat tonight. But she didn't want him to see her... As she leaned over the wall to look at him, a piece of loose stone gave way under her weight, the rock dropping to the ground with a dull thump! and she quickly ducked, hoping that he hadn't seen her. Her heart thumped nervously in her chest, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

He heard the stone as it was falling, the clicks of the smaller pebbles giving it away and giving him plenty of time to move. As it thumped harmlessly to the ground, his first instinct was to look up at the source. The spotlight beamed against the side of the stone wall, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just broken stone from a weary keep that just needed some tender loving care. "Ah, you're just falling apart, aren't you?" He chuckled as he spoke to Whitestone, rubbing his hand along the rock wall as though he was rubbing the back of a tired friend. "Well don't you worry about it, old girl. You're in good hands now." Chuckling to himself, the young man began continuing his stroll, searching for the gargoyle that he hoped had not shared that stones fate. When he came to the spot where he thought it'd be, he was not only surprised, but disappointed not to find anything. He looked up, then back to the picture, certain that this is the spot where the picture showed she was. Looking down at his feet, though, he didn't see the toppled stones. In fact, he didn't see anything except for a few scraps and chips of stone that looked like they came from the stone above him. They couldn't have belonged to that gargoyle unless she had been hollow. They didn't make hollow statues back then... Did they? At any rate, he didn't lose hope. If she didn't fall forwards, maybe she had fallen backwards. Behind this wall was the courtyard, so if she had toppled from her lofty perch, than she may have landed on that side. With a smile, he began walking around the walls, keeping one hand on the walls to balance himself as he steps over the scattered stones. It wasn't long before he had gone around enough to find the entrance to the courtyard, but as soon as his eyes fell into the darkness, he had to pause. He could see a dull orange glow, flickering against a distant wall. Fire? Fire meant people, and people meant that somebody hadn't told him everything. "Is someone here?" He called, hearing his own voice echo against the walls. It wasn't safe for him to go into the darkened courtyard, because if he had a violent squatter on his hands, he didn't want to be surprised, or ambushed. "I'm not the police, and I'm not going to make anyone leave..." He slowly began walking in, making sure to keep his eyes sharp and his hearing sharper for anyone sneaking up on him. If he did find someone, he was probably either going to pay them to relocate or offer them a job. Any homeless person would jump at the chance, and those that wouldn't... well, he knew how to defend himself enough to keep out of such a dangerous situation. "If there's anyone here... I just want to talk. That's all." It would seem his search for the gargoyle would have to take a rain check.

Ellice quickly ducked down behind the ramparts as the rock fell to the ground with a clatter of loose pebbles bouncing against stone. She peeked over the side to make sure she had not hit the human, but quickly hid herself once again as his torchlight played up over the walls, passing over where she had stood moments before. There were no shouts of alarm, just soft words, and when she crouched to peer over the walls again, he was rubbing his palm along the stone, speaking as though to the Keep itself. She blinked, continuing to follow him with her eyes as he walked around the castle wall. He was looking for something ?? that much she was certain of. But what? Ellice crept along the upper walls, watching her footing as to avoid another accident that almost got her caught. As he approached the spot where she slept, her eyes widened as he looked up at the spot, before down to the chips of stone that had fallen when she had woken. He was looking forher. Terror gripped her ?? she had tried so hard to remain hidden. How could have someone found her? Should she flee? What would happen to her friends? A scent that tickled at her nose told her that the fish had begun to burn and was ruined. She had killed for nothing tonight?but her guilt was quickly pushed aside by her fright again as he moved along the wall, heading for the courtyard entrance. She followed him back around, her mind racing as she watched him stand before the open gateway. His voice called out, echoing against the courtyard walls. He saw her fire ?? he knew she was there. She stood and actually spread her wings to fly, but where could she go? This was all she had! ??Please, don??t hurt my friends!? She finally spoke, her desire to protect them surpassing her own desire to keep safe. ??I will come out, just don??t hurt them.? Ellice hopped down from the top ledge of the wall, landing several feet away from him. Her wings and tail were drawn protectively around her body, and fear could be seen in her eyes as she looked at him.

When he had heard the voice, he was thinking that, if she were a woman, then she'd be much easier to speak to. As 'unfair' as it was, he tended to treat female strangers better than males. Some double standards are just hard to break. However, the echos kept him from knowing where exactly the voice came from, so when he saw a figure plunge from above and thud onto the ground, he thought the worst. He took a step back out of shock, a small gasp leaving his lips as his eyes tried to disbelieve what the saw. His lamp illuminated a pale, winged figure with a long mane of hair. Her body was huddled against itself, with something resembling wings cloaking her frightened frame. She had a tail that curled around her legs defensively, and instead of a human face, she had this strange beak, and resting above it were two horribly fearful eyes. Perhaps it was the terror she exuded that kept him feeling it himself. His mind's natural instinct to flee from the creature he did not understand was overshadowed by his natural empathy, giving him time to think about who or what he was seeing. It wasn't human, that was for sure, not even one in a really good costume. She looked too real, and any outfit of that quality would have more than likely NOT protected the one inside it from the jump she took. There was something else about her, too, something familiar... In any case, it was obvious that he should be very careful. For all he knew, her friends were a lot less afraid of him, and any sign of hostility could provoke them to come down from the walls and attack. "It's... okay," he told both her and himself, letting out a sigh as his nerves slightly calmed. "I don't want to hurt anyone." He slowly took a step forward, both of his hands out to his side to show that they were empty. He wanted to get a better look at her, to solve this nagging puzzle in his mind. "My name is Mathias Zane. I'm... the new master of this keep, Whitestone." As he approached, his mind started to clear, familiar features slowly bubbling to the surface of his thoughts like an arm waking up from being slept on the wrong way. His mind kept pricking him with signals that there was something he was forgetting, that this creature was more alluring than he realized. His eyes shone with curiosity and a glimmer of compassion, a trait that many of his family members stated was a sign of an improper businessman. To Mathias, it was simply who he was. "I don't think I've never seen anything like you before. Do you have a name?"

The cone of bright light from his torch forced her to shield her eyes as it flashed over them, turning her head away from the beam and looking at the ground. She expected him to attack, to run, anything but just stand there. Her parents?one of the few things she remembered of them?had said that the humans did not understand them, and they feared and attacked what they did not understand? But as she stood there before him, he did nothing, only staring in stunned silence at her visage. The silence was torturous, she was too afraid to even take a breath for as long as they made eye contact. His eyes, while still fearful, seemed to calm long before hers, and his breath escaped from his mouths. She drew back initially at the sound of his voice, despite how calm it sounded. She took another when he took a step closer to her, her wings drawing a little tighter. She almost seemed to be hiding inside her wings, like a child hiding underneath a blanket to keep the monsters away. Much about her personality seemed childish. She didn't know what to say, or even if she did, how to say it. He didn't seem...mean...and he said he didn't want to hurt anyone... She flinched when he raised his hands to the side, but slowly started to lower her wings a little, starting to reveal more of her body to him. Since privacy was something she had had an abundance of before tonight, and her body had long outgrown any fabric she had once owned, she stood more or less naked, only a scrap of old, brown cloth ?? torn from one of the drapes ?? hung around her waist as a crude loincloth. She was most definitely an adult in body. Her ghostly white skin reflected the bright light of his torch as she stood still, her eyes panning nervously along the ground at his feet, unable to make eye contact with him, only fleeting glances. "My name?" She said softly, almost a whisper. ??I am called Ellice?? Her eyes lifted a little bit, still only making eye contact with him for the shortest of moments before looking back to the ground. ??You are the new Master?? She said softly, lowering her head in a gesture of respect.

"Ellice," he said quietly, not wanting his voice to be much higher than hers to avoid scaring her. He saw her as a wild animal, but one that he could eventually walk up to and touch, like a deer. He didn't want to frighten her, especially not knowing what she could be capable of. For all he knew, this childish disposition could just be an act; she seemed like she could be terribly powerful if provoked. "Yes... I'm the owner of Whitestone," he smiled a little, noticing her little bow. She was so nervous, yet she still went out of her way to show a little respect to him. He didn't ask for it, so perhaps she was genuinely frightened of him. Of course, her demeanor seemed to be softening with time, showing the human that this creature was starting to get used to him. He, on the other hand, only became more and more surprised. She had an amazing body, young and natural. It was rare for him to see such pure beauty considering his wealthy lifestyle and the 'prosthetic perks' it grants to the women. If her voice had been a hint to her femininity, this was the conclusion. Despite her young attitude, most women would kill to have her curves. His hand rose to his helmet and dimmed the torch, not wanting to blind her and hoping to get more eye contact. As he put his hands back down by his side, he felt the stiff photo of Whitestone in his pocket, making his thoughts flash as a sudden connection was made in his memories. It was an impossible connection... but then again, she was impossible herself. Perhaps it fit. "The last time I saw this place..." he began, referring to his photograph as he took another slow step closer. "...I saw this amazing gargoyle statue perched on top of the wall. I came tonight and it was gone... but now you are here, and you look just like the statue." "Ellice... was that a statue of you?" It was the only thing he could think of. After all, it was so well crafted that maybe she was considered a guardian of the keep. Obviously, they would have built a statue to honor her. She didn't seem like the kind to ask for anything like that, but honestly, it was the sole conclusion that came to his mind, the thought of simply mistaking her for a statue in the photo gone out the window the second he saw the silken light of her flesh. No stone was that alluring.

Ellice continued to stand there before him, slowly beginning to calm down. The human named Mathias had not threatened her, not made any aggressive movements, had not even raised his voice towards her? Her wings flared out fully, completely revealing her form to him for a few seconds before she drew them around herself like a loose-fitting cloak. The tip of her tail curled nervously around her ankle and she chewed slightly on her bottom ??lip?? for a moment. He was the owner of the Keep?did that mean?? She lowered her head shyly, staring at the ground for a moment, but finally, she raised her head to look at him, the first time their eyes had met. Thankfully, he had dimmed the torch. Her eyes met his for the first time that night. Her eyes were a curious slate gray, still holding their naivety. ??Does?does this mean you own me too?? She asked him softly, her voice almost inaudible too. This wasn??t what her parents had been discussing all those years ago? She took a startled step backwards when he moved closer to her, her eyes widening in surprise. ??Don??t?? She began, her eyes fleeting over to the fire pit and the nests. But he did not come closer, instead beginning to speak. His voice was nice. ??Statue?? She asked, blinking as she looked to the spot on the wall where she slept, overlooking the Big River. Her ivory skin reflected the moonlight, making her appear almost to glow a little. ??That?that was me?? She said, turning back to him with a sheepish smile. "When I sleep, I am encased in stone..."

Well, that just made a world of sense. "You sleep in stone?" He asked with a lightly puzzled expression curling his lips and face. "So... if you were the statue..." He thought about this for a moment, her barely heard question actually managing to reach his ears. He did not advance on her, because she seemed to be very protective of something just beyond the fire. Perhaps her 'friends'? At any rate, she did pose an interesting point. "...Then I suppose yes... that would make you mine." Mathias wasn't a fan of slavery, nor was he a fan of taking advantage of someone's naivete. In this situation, though, he sees a lot of opportunities opening up for him. As long as he doesn't try making her do something she'd regret, then there wouldn't be any harm in 'owning' her, would there? And yes, the concept of her being his 'pet' of sorts was an... appealing one. He couldn't understand the appeal, but he definitely felt it. "But that's a good thing," he told her softly, letting his hands rest by his sides as he watched her stand protectively over her secret space, where the fire flickered just out of sight. "If you're mine, like this keep, then that means I get to take care of you, and perhaps your friends too, if you'll let me." He took another step forward, a gentle smile playing across his lips. "If you don't trust me, I understand... but do know that I'll do everything I can to keep you and your friends safe. I promise."

"Not...in the stone..." She spoke softly, still keeping her body hidden behind the 'cloak' of her wings. "It is...a natural process for us. We call it 'Stone Sleep'..." Ellice watched him meekly, always ready to flee if she needed, but he seemed to understand her fear, and thankfully did not move towards her. However, she blushed deeply as he said that she was, indeed, his property since he owned the castle. She nodded softly and bowed her head in respect. "I understand, my Master." Her words were whisper soft, but obedient. This was obviously new to her as well, not only his presence, but that he owned her. She slowly let her wings draw back behind her, revealing her bare and supple form. Her pale skin seemed to glow softly in the moonlight. "What is it that you wish from me?" She said innocently, cocking her head as she looked at the worn castle wall. Thankfully, her innocence prevented her from thinking of all the bad things that he could ask of her. She still cautiously stepped back when he approached, her eyes darting over to the nook that held her friends. He said he would protect them, but she... He was her Master. She should trust him... "Oh...okay." She nodded, slowly stepping aside for him.

The word Master... it had a very endearing quality to it. Pride welled up in his heart, because though she was naive, she was still technically his first true subordinate. His corporate employees didn't matter, as he wasn't really part of the company anymore, and they were always out for themselves anyway. He was determined to build a rapport of some sort with this beautiful creature, who was growing all the more beautiful the more she opened up to him. Though, aside from all the kinky things he was surprised came to his head, he couldn't think of anything he could have her do for him. She did step aside, though, and he decided to take advantage of the situation. He moved closer to the fire, slowly, and noticed the lump of charcoal skewered by the stick. It took a moment to discover that the lump was actually a fish, and he took the wooden shaft carefully out of the fire, turning it over and looking at the charred ocean fish. "I see you cook just about as well as I do," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his unique knife. It looked like a claw that you hold in your fist, with the blade sticking out of the side like a bladed talon. Slowly, he dug the knife into the fish, watching it steam, nearly smoke the room. "Hah, well, most of it's burned," he said, opening it up for her to see as he continues shaving the side carefully. "But there are more than a few scraps that you can salvage. All I need to do is cut off the burned bits here..." When he was done, he had a small pile of ruined fish at his feet, with a small fillet sitting on a flat stone beside him. Wiping his knife on his pants, he placed it back in his pocket and offered the meager feast to her. "I don't know how much you need to eat... and now that I think about it, you were probably too busy focusing on me to worry about your fish. If you don't mind, I'm going to go get a snack from my car for us to enjoy to make up for it."

Gone. They were all gone. Coruscant carried on, moved forward; the suns rose and set and lives continued, but for Obi-Wan Kenobi, the world stood still. Stass Allie, Ki-Adi, Plo Koon, Aayla, Kolar, Sasaee, Master Windu - all of them, and so many others had been killed; thousands of Jedi, murdered, overpowered and outnumbered by the Empire. As Obi-Wan moved through the darkened corridors of the Temple he encountered only silence - but it wasn't the sort of quiet that came from a well-disciplined school, it was, instead, the absolute stillness that came from a building that was devoid of life. It was the silence that came from the dead, a deafening quiet. There were no lights, no voices, because there was no one left to speak and even Obi-Wan's voice seemed to be failing him - he hadn't spoken for days, not since Padme. Not since Anakin. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence, because there were no words that seemed important enough to say - but he had listened stoically to Master Yoda, the only one left besides him. Yoda had told him that Anakin was not beyond help. He had told him that the story wasn't over, that life would continue - the force would continue, unhindered. He told him that there would be others, and that Luke and Leia had to be protected from Anakin - he could never know where they had been taken, lest his darkness infect them. He told him to carry on, not to let the darkness invade him either. And Obi-Wan had remained wordless, even when Master Yoda had departed, exiling himself in a grief that he would hide while Obi-Wan punished himself for a while longer, standing in the empty classroom, looking into the shadow. Even the younglings. The Empire hadn't even spared the children. Though his expression remained characteristically emotionless - nearly immobile the way it always had been, Anakin had always called him cold - Obi-Wan sank slowly to the ground, on his knees in silence, a pose that would have been meditation if it werent for the way his head hung, and the fact his eyes remained open. All of them were gone. God, if Qui-Gonn could see him now. In the darkness, without a word or a flicker on his face, Obi-Wan Kenobi mourned the loss of his comrades, his allies, his students, and his partner - a man he had loved, just as he had loved his Master and been loved by him.

"I knew I'd find you here, Obi-wan Kenobi." A voice called from the empty and haunted halls of the abandoned jedi temple. A place once teeming with the force, now seemed bereft and cold. It was eery, to see a temple where he spent a good portion of his life so...dead. Even if he was the one who had caused all of this, the little Tatooine boy inside of him ducked his head in shame and misery. Anakin Skywalker took a step forward, dressed in long black cloak and holding his lightsaber at the ready. With a press of a button the weapon hummed to life. The sith lord infront of him walked and talked like his former apprentice, but look him in the eye and the jedi master would find nothing familar. Little Ani was gone, vanished and swallowed up by the sadistic and twisted demon who stood in his place. His eyes had changed. Those same blue irises had been through with yellow and red, like the cracks left behind after an earthquake. "You're a sentimental old fool." His voice darkened and suddenly the halls and very foundation of the ruined temple seemed to shake and tremble under the raw pressure of the life force radiating from Anakin's body. He'd always been strong in the ways of the force, but now that he nolonger held himself in check with the jedi code, his power had the composition of a hammer striking ruthlessly. Pure unadulterated power. "You're going to tell me what you did to Padme!" Ah, there it was. His yellow and red cracked eyes were blazing with rage. Palpatine had vindicated Anakin's growing prejudice against the jedi by telling him that his beloved wife was dead and had died at the hands of his former master. "I'll make you pay. I swear I will. Did you think I wouldn't know? I can't feel her presence...I can't feel anything form her. Her life force...it's gone. You took her away from me!" He was shouting by now and the vibrations of his power were causing specks of ceiling to come crumbling down. His rage made him stronger, but wreckless.

Obi heard Anakin before he spoke, felt him before he was in the room, but he didn't move from his spot; he remained in place on the floor for a long moment, eyes still downcast even when the familiar sound of a lightsabre filled the room. And then he spoke and Obi-Wan looked up, met Anakin Skywalker's eyes, blue had changed to the terrible yellows and reds of a Sith while Obi-Wan's had remained the same, steady green. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a young man still, and beneath the beard were the same youthful features, but the hardness of his eyes had begun to make him look older than he was. Slowly, he rose from his spot, eyes not leaving Anakin's, and he thought of the small boy he had taught for so many years - it was apparent that child was gone, but in his place there was a young man, and somewhere inside of him there was - hope. There always was, even for those who had strayed so far that it was difficult to find the light of day. He watched Anakin, watched him tremble with anger, heard the rage in his voice, felt the floor vibrate with the power he was barely holding in. Obi-Wan did not draw his weapon, however, and spoke in his familiar, patient tone, "Padme died during labour." Obi-Wan said, and there was a rasp to his voice, an indication that he had barely used it, "I'm sorry, Anakin; she couldn't be saved."

Lord Vader, once known as Anakin Skywalker, began to close the distance between the two of them. His rage was palpitable in the air. He didn't seem able to listen to reason, just like on Mustafar. He was far beyond his master's reach. Anakin Skywalker had died the fateful night Master Windu had been killed. The only thing that seemed to bring a spark of blue to those sickly yellowish red eyes was the name of his wife. His beloved Amidala, his Padme. He froze in place, some small part of him registering that Obi-wan hadn't confessed to killing her. That she had died in labor. "No. No, that can't be!" All of that darkness seemed to fade. Palpatine's promise to him, to give him power so that he could save Padme from the fate his dreams had prophecized; only to leanr that she had died giving birth to his child. It was all too much for him to take. He threw his head back and howled in agony and grief. It was an unholy and pitiful sound, raw and primal grief. All of his emotion flooded the room in one great gust, shaking the foundations of the ruined building. He dropped to his knees, mirroring Obi-wan's previous position. His hands were held to his chest and his shoulders were shaking. In his own way, he had loved Padme. He had also loved Obi-wan. Of the two, only one of his great loves remained alive. "All of this power, all of this...everything I did for her. To protect her." His voice was hoarse. Some part of him still trusted that this was the truth. For now, in this moment of grief, the sith lord had been beaten back. "My child?" He dared to ask, his cheeks stained with tears. His expression darkened a few seconds later, making a grabbing motion with his hand. An invisible hand gripped the jedi by his cloak, lifting him up off the ground and shaking him ruthlessly for an answer. "Answer me! Where is my child? You can't keep it from me!"

Anakin's pain was as palpable as his rage, and when he fell to his knees in his agony, Obi-Wan saw a flicker of the young, troubled boy they had met on Tatooine, but as quickly as that vision had appeared, it was gone. Once again, Anakin's rage took over and Kenobi felt the front of his robes gather and wrench aggressively as his former apprentice used his powers. "Your power frightened her, Anakin." Obi-Wan said sharply, resistant to the pain that was coursing through his muscles at the violent treatment, "It changed you from the man she loved, made you distant from her." He couldn't fault Anakin for wanting to know the location of his children; he had broken the Jedi code to be with Padme, had opened up a spot within himself that was as susceptible to light as it was to dark - and he had chosen his path. His path had led him to kill every child in the temple. Obi-Wan did the only thing that he knew would save the lives of Luke and Leia Skywalker - he lied. Outright, and to Anakin's face, he went against every belief he had about honesty and truth, and he lied because he couldn't allow Anakin to kill them as well, or introduce them to the darkness that had taken him. "Your son passed with Padme." Obi-Wan said; if he could help it, Anakin would never know of the existence of his two children, would never get his hands on them - they would grow up away from this.

The invisible hand gripping Obi-wan seemed to suddenly exert crushing force around his neck. The grip tightened or loosened in relation to the motion of his mechanical arm, which was now outstretched in his former master's direction. This was not masery over the force, this was pure and primal power. He'd always had a lot of raw power locked up inside of him. Through discipline and knowledge, he had learned to control himself. All of that control was gone now. Anakin was consumed with rage, grief, and a tiny bit of jealousy. "You lie!" His eyes were pure blood red now. "I can feel it..." He hissed, referring to the bond of master nad apprentice through which their emotions still flowed. He couldn't tell for sure that Obi-wan was lieing, but he seemed unwilling to believe the falsehood fed to him. "The medi-droids said that the child was healthy just days before she joined me on Mustufar! Even if Padme died in labor, the child would have survived. I know you would have done everything in your power to ensure either Padme or the child suvived. You will tell me where my son is, my foolish former master." That invisible iron grip on Obi-wan's neck tightened harder then ever before and then suddenly loosened enough to allow him just enough leverage to speak. Should his former master try to raise his lightsaber, Anakin's other arm already head his humming blade upright, ready to battle. The way he was looking at him, left some doubt that he could actually kill his master. Obi-Wan had shown him mercy on Mustafar. If what he said was true, the jedi master was the last of his beloved close ones remaining. In his mind, he had gathered all of this power to protect Padme, to protect his unborn son, and even to protect his own master. Could he strike Obi-wan down? "I don't want to kill you, Obi-wan. I want you by my side. You can still make the right choice. The jedi are gone...you're the last of a dieing breed now. We could be comrades again, if only you would listen to reason. Everything I have done, I did out of love and for justice." Not for democracy. Never for democracy. Anakin had never been a firm belilever in the replublic.

Obi-Wan let out a small gasp - it was the only sound of discomfort that had escaped him so far despite the rough treatment he had already endured, and this one had only come because now the very breath was being crushed from him. The grip on his throat was steely, painful, and breath wouldn't enter or exit his lungs anymore. Just as his vision began to swim from the even tighter grip, Anakin released enough for him to take in a rasping, tinny breath, "Padme was healthy just days before Mustufar as well," Obi-Wan managed, and despite the fact he was being strangled, there was still that same stubborn calmness to his voice, the same resistance to anger or hatred or anything too passionate - but his eyes burned, a green fire that contrasted Anakin's red one. "My powers can only do so much, Anakin, I couldn't save them." he said, stubbornly holding to it; he couldn't give away anything. Master Yoda had explained to him, the Anakin of before would have wanted Obi-Wan to do what he had to in order to protect the children - in this case, hiding them away from their father would keep them safe, unharmed. Held for too long now, the world began to fade around the edges for Kenobi, so he finally did what he had been resisting doing; he fought back, using the Force to impact Anakin, to push him to the wall in a sudden, powerful burst, and it was enough for the Jedi to be released. He dropped to the ground, but he didn't take a moment to compose himself the way anyone else would have - instead, he immediately rose to his feet, always testing his boundaries - Qui-Gon had once said it would be his drive that would kill him. Perhaps, though, it would be his former apprentice. His lightsabre buzzed to life, a blue glow in an otherwise darkened room, "Mass murder - the Jedi - youculledthem Anakin, like animals. Even the children -" Obi Wan said, his voice hitching uncharacteristically, just for a moment, "What justice is there in what you've done? The Empire has set a precident, Anakin, and will only continue to kill - mindless death, with you at the centre of it all. You've become his puppet."

Anakin was at a loss. Padme was gone and apperently so was his unborn child, or so Obi-wan wanted him to believe. He wasn't ready to accept that his son had died along with Padme. No, he knew Obi-wan all too well. The baby's death hadn't been fortold in his nightmares. He could always hear a healthy newborn cry in his dreams... Clearly the true events of that day were known only to his former master. Obi-wan Kenobi, the man her loved first as a father, a brother, and more recently as a lover. There had been times during missions, when they were huddled together for warmth in cold places, when there seemed only a tiny speck of hope that they would survive this mission; during those times, he had felt the love each felt for each other grow and swell through the force. It was never spoken, for love was against a code, but it was always there. No matter how cold and impassive his master could be, it was there. Desperate for affection, for understanding, he turned to Padme and rekindled his love for her. Everything he had done, he'd done for the two of them. For Padme and Obi-wan. His quest for power had come to an end too late. He hadn't been able to save Padme, but...perhaps he could save his mentor. He was thrown back against a wall, his back colliding with the hard stone with an audible crack before he slid to the ground. The suddenness of the act, when Obi-wan had been so passive up until now, startled him. His thoughts had thrown him off track. A new goal had been set. Save Obi-wan from himself, from his blind beliefs in a system that had long ago failed. His eyes were blazing as he picked himself up off his feet and gripped his lightsaber tightly. "You've never understood me master, so why would I expect you to understand my motives now? The Republic was an old and decrepit system many years before either of us were born. You've seen yourself the injustice....the endless bickering in courts and Senate until whole planets and life systems were wiped out. Well, no longer. A new and better way has been born from the ashes and blood of the old. I see now the path before me.... I will not kill you master. I will save you...from yourself." With that being said, he attacked. What followed was a flourish of lightsabers, a deadly dance of death in which Anakin had the upperhand. He knew all of his master's moves through the numerous sparring sessions that had engaged in. His new powers, brute strength, intensity, as well as his own youthfulness made him a force to be reckoned with. He didn't seek to kill or even to mortally maim, all of his blows were aimed at disabling Obi-wan's weapon.

Obi-Wan was watching his student, his ward, his - partner - stalk towards him like a wild cat, dressed all in black, pure sinew and rage. He had seen it before, of course, even when he had first met Anakin Skywalker as a young and idealistic nine year old, he had known there was something dark in him - but Qui-Gon Jinn's enthusiasm had led him to hesitantly take the boy under his wing. Back then, he had only just finished his own apprenticeship - he had been a boy himself. But responsibility and determination had made Obi-Wan Kenobi rise in the ranks and gain knowledge and skill faster than any Jedi before him, had made him a part of the council only shortly after losing his braid. Had made him a Master not so long after Anakin had lost his own braid. It hadn't been so long ago, when that darkness had seemed just a speck - it was one that Obi-Wan had worried about from time to time, when he saw the gleam in Anakin's eyes, had even woken up at night, mortified by dreams that his apprentice had done terrible things. He had tried to keep Anakin from that path, had tried to press the Jedi code to him as a safety net, to keep him safe from his own darkness - but he hadn't been able to, couldn't stop the emotion that had already built inside of Anakin from his youth. He couldn't help him surpass the trauma, or help him cope. Obi-Wan Kenobi blamed himself for this, even though Master Yoda had told him not to, had told him there was ultimately nothing he could have done to stop this, but he just couldn't buy it - after all, he had seen the darkness. He just hadn't been able to stop it. And now Anakin had thatlookin his eyes. "I have seen the injustice of every system, of every government," Obi-Wan replied sharply, "The Republic is flawed, but your Empire is a dictatorship, it seeks to hold people hostage by their own fear, it instills hatred, feeds off of anguish - your motives may have been for good, Anakin, but they've been -" Obi-Wan was cut off by Anakin coming at him, a speeding force, whirling lightsabre, and Obi-Wan brought his up and around, blocking a downwards swing and deflecting one aimed to his hand. Each strike from Anakin was almost careless in his anger the way he always had been when he struck, but there was a new fury to it, a new intention and speed and strength that hadn't been there before - he was being driven by his rage now, not by discipline. Everything had been unleashed inside of Anakin Skywalker; it was like facing down a tornado. But Obi-Wan held his ground; he had always excelled in every skill a Jedi was meant to have, had obsessively dedicated his life to being a Jedi Knight - there was no other aspect to his life, it had been encompassed by the title. It was why he had been able to best Anakin on Mustufar, despite all of his passion and fury, because Anakin's mind had ultimately been split by emotion, Obi-Wan had coldly held his centre, even though he was watching one of the few people close to him - break down. Dissolve. Fade away. "- twisted." Obi-Wan finished roughly, as they stood close, lightsabres pinned together before he shoved away to create space between them. Suddenly, he found himself thinking of his late master, and his death - would this be where it would end for one of them, would one of them fall in the Jedi temple they had grown up in? But no, then came the dark promise from Anakin, the determination not to kill him but to -savehim, and Obi-Wan felt something cold and bleak claw down his spine, not fear, but something that came from pure instinct. Something that told him Anakin's darkness had gone beyond what he had even seen. Anakin wasn't aiming to kill him. He was trying to disarm him. He wanted to take himalive, and standing in the darkened temple surrounded by the memory of his fallen comrades and the knowledge of what had happened - and knowing that the empire would grow - Obi-Wan knew that he didn't want to be taken. "I will not be a pawn of the empire." Obi-Wan said, parrying a strike.

There was a time when Anakin had fought with all the precision and discipline of a jedi knight. After losing his hand, he had learned to hold back slightly during his fights, to hone in on his opponent's weaknesses and strategies before rushing in. He had truly earned his title as a jedi knight, it had taken him a long time to learn what patience was. Now, all that he had learned, every check that balanced him, seem forever gone. He was like a wild storm, a tornado ripping and tearing apart anything that came in contact with him. The only saving grace for Obi-wan was that the sith apprentice wasn't aiming to kill. His lightsaber streamed through the air, striking at less vulnerable points. He was blocked on all accounts, afterall his former master was a master at wielding a lightsaber. He would have expected no less. Unfortunately, as time wore on, he could sense Obi-wan weakening and this doubled his resolve and the strength of his attacks. "Getting tired Obi-wan" His voice cut through the whirl and hum of lightsabers which echoed through the empy halls of the jedi temple. His next attacked aimed at the base of Obi-wan's weapon, smirking triumphantly as he saw his opponent's weapon fling from his hand and clatter to the ground a few feet away. Instantly he shot infront of the fallen lightsaber, blocking the jedi master's attempts to retrieve it. "Now, this seems familar. I can't quite place it though..." He paused long enough to taunt, his eyes cruel and his voice sadistic. "What was it that you told me, Obi-wan? Ahh yes." Anakin blocked every attack up until now, every attempt to retrieve the fallen weapon. One of his hands slipped into his black robe, discreetly pulling out a fine tipped dart. A split second later his free hand shot out, grabbing the jedi by his wrist and jabbing the dart into his skin with his other hand. As he did this, his mouth came in close proximity to his former master's ear, making sure he could hear every twisted word. "Your weapon is your life." The dart contained a paralysis poison that would knock him out and leave him immobile for hours. His hands wrapped around the older man as he slumped forward, catching him before he could fall. He held him for a few minutes and reached to tenderly brush a hand through auburn hair. "I won't fail you, my former master. I swear it." He gave a solemn promise. This time would be different, this time...his power would not fail him. He would convert Obi-wan to the dark side, even if he had to break and remake him from the inside out. Witha heavy sigh, he threw the unconscious jedi master over his shoulder, barely registering the heavier weight. Turning on his heel, he gave one last look at the jedi temple, silently apologizing for stealing away the last of the once noble jedi order. "He belongs with me." His twisted mind rationalized as he carried the older male to a ship and transported him to his own quarters in the city. He had to justify Obi-wan's existence to the Emperor and the only way to do that was to neutralize the threat. He had to make Obi-wan powerless, he had to break his connection to the force. That was a very hard thing to do and the very idea of it made him flinch in discomfort. A jedi was one with the force, born with a connection to it. To be without it...it would be like missing half of your body. He had to do it though. Even the implantation of the chip brought him back to those long days when he had been a slave. When a simple chip had controlled his fate. Until Qui Gonn and Obi-wan had showed up. He hadn't stayed to watch the procedure, it brought back too many memories of that happy day when his own chip had been removed. How ironic, that day he had been freed and this day marked Obi-wan's enslavement. That thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He was there, a few days later, when his former master's eyes opened at last. Obi-wan would not find himself behind bars or in a cell of some sort. Instead he would awaken on a soft bed, wearing a black gown and in a spacious room with Anakin sitting in the center of the room. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed, meditating and completely off guard.

They moved together, a dance they had performed as partners time and time again in sparring sessions, only now the fluidity of it was gone and replaced by a harsh fury - it was a fierce storm, a whirl of blue and red light as the sabres flashed through the air. Obi-Wan could recall that Anakin's sabre had once been blue like his own - the lightsabres were specific to their wielders, each one had been pieced together by the Jedi, the crystals were taken from an ice cavern on IIum and each student would spend time meditating over them, constructing the weapon that would accompany them through their entire lives. And Anakin had traded his in - the weapon he had constructed as a Jedi, it may have been discarded or put aside, and had been exchanged for one he had constructed as a Sith. This fact caused a strange new wrenching in Obi-Wan's chest, even as he fought against Anakin. The fight went on for longer than even on Mustufar, yet it was contained within one dark room, going on and on until Obi-Wan felt the sleeplessness, felt the ache in his muscles from the previous days, when old war wounds began to warn him he couldn't go on forever, an ancient leg injury telling him to stop. But he didn't; he pushed on the way he always did, he fought until finally, for the first time, Anakin bested his former master, knocking the lightsabre away and sending it clattering across the floor. Despite his weariness, Obi-Wan immediately launched for it, spry and intent on retrieving his weapon, but Anakin was faster and took hold of his arm, twisted. He brought his arm back, jamming his elbow into Anakin's ribs, but before he could go any further or strike him again, something pierced the skin of his neck, plunged into muscle. Almost immediately there was searing pain, followed by heat, and then a head rush that had Obi-Wan losing his equilibrium. The world flipped and began to fade, and as his legs gave out, he felt Anakin come closer, pull him against him, felt his breath on his ear, heard his voice, like poison. He faded in and out, and for a moment he felt a hand brush against his forehead, I won't fail you, my former master. I swear it. After that, consciousness only came in blinks; the inside of a shuttle, the brief sight of Anakin's eyes looking down at him, the surgical whites and gleaming metals of a medical room - the pain of a knife cutting into him, the sutures. When Obi-Wan woke up, he already knew what had been done to him, partly from the pain, but mostly because of the sensation of a sudden and profound loss - the dissappearance of the energy from the Force, as though it was still there, but just beyond his reach. For a long moment he laid still in the spot, tried to connect with the life energy that he had been attached to since his very birth, but nothing came. And then, moments later, there came pain. But this wasn't just any pain; this was something raw and furious that struck every nerve in Obi-Wan's body, a searing jolt of it that caused him to gasp out loud, eyes flying open; when he ceased trying to connect to the Force, the pain died away, leaving him with every muscle aching, his vision blurred from it. When his sight came back to him, he finally acknowledged his placement; it wasn't a cell as he had expected it to be, but a bed, and he had been changed into dark robes - and there, sitting in the room, was Anakin, deep in meditation. Obi-Wan moved to sit up, but his muscles protested to it so aggressively that he had to try the motion a second time - but, stubborn and adamant as ever, he did it and even began to force himself to his feet, ignoring the lurching sensation inside of him. He was no threat now, he knew that - without the Force, without a weapon, he was a civilian up against a Sith; Anakin had every advantage. "You will only encounter further anguish on this path, Anakin."

Anakin wore only a pair of loose black pants, sitting comfortably in a meditative stand with his legs crossed and seemingly completely unaware of the neutralized jedi's awakened presence. Oh, on some level he was very much aware. He was simply giving his former master time to realize and come to terms with his predicament. The Coruscant sun rose slowly in the sky, sending beams of pure sunlight streaming through the window behind the meditating Sith. His figure appeared to be shining for a few moments, covered in the light filtering in from the window. How utterly ironic. He was the darkest thing in this bright room. After a few minutes passed, he drew in several deep and calming breaths. His yellow and red tinged eyes flew open and a smile graced his face. It was a boyish smile, not unlike the many he had given his master over the years as his braided apprentice. "I have a new name now. It's Lord Vader....but you can call me Anakin when it's just the two of us." He said passively, acting as if nothing at all had changed between the two of them. As if they weren't at war with one another. "No doubt you've discovered your current condition. I am deeply sorry, Obi-wan. I didn't want to do it, but you left me with no choice and this was the only way I could justify sparing your life. If you cooperate, I can have you restored to your full power in very little time." Like a child waving a chocolate bar infront of a starving orphan's face. "This is my home. You're free to move around and explore it." He stood slowly, stretching out his arms to work out any cramps he had gathered during his meditation. Anakin had grown from a scrawny slave boy into a very fit and very handsome warrior. His sun kissed skin seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. It was only the darkness in his eyes and the general dangerous aura surrounding him that marked him as a sith. "The Emperor is aware of your existence. He urged me to finish you, but I stood up for you. I have plans for you...and from now on you can consider your self myapprentice." He finished with a knowing grin. Oh how the tables had turned and twisted when Anakin became the master and Obi-wan the pupil. "I will break you of your prescious code and remake you."

The difference between the two men was obvious; where Anakin was sleek, precisely groomed and all lean and attractive muscle, Obi-Wan was ragged-looking, unshaven and looking just a little too thin and scarred these days, built of muscle that was made from years of excessive use. It was the indication of two painfully different lifestyles. Where Anakin had been living outside the code, he had taken to more luxuries than he had had been given back in his life on Tatooine, it had left him looking more lustrous despite the prosthetic arm - Obi-Wan, however, had continued to live the minimalist life that Jedi were raised with, and it had resulted in a much rougher appearance. He listened to Anakin, silent as the other man spoke, but there was no visible response from Obi-Wan, beyond a characteristic lofting of an eyebrow - expressions were a rare thing for Kenobi, and only the harshest situations gained a true physical reaction from him. This, of course, was a worst-case scenario, but the coldness of his particular Jedi training hadn't left him, creating a startling contrast of his calmness against Anakin's heated gaze. "I will not acquiesce." Obi-Wan said simply; there was no challenge in his voice, no dare, but a simple statement of fact. He was on his feet now, taking a few steps to get his muscles working again, to assess his body and any damage - a spot on his shoulder ached furiously, the pain of a recent surgical procedure. A glance to the windows told him they were still in Coruscant - it was the only blessing in what was currently a bleak situation - but all things could be endured. "There is nothing for you to gain, keeping me here." Obi-Wan reasoned, peering out at the sunlight and it hit the golds in his hair and the green in his eyes, lit him up the way it had lit Anakin. There was youth in Obi-Wan Kenobi still, a young man beneath the robes and the rules, but life had created age in his eyes and left him looking tired - moreso, after the losses. He peered over at Anakin when the younger man offered a smile that had nothing to do with what smiles normally meant; this was something dark and cruel, and Obi-Wan regarded him coolly. "Jedi are peace-keepers - we settled wars, stopped them, we were meant to be mediators. Your Empire has created a new war entirely, renewed the terror - instead of serving the people, you've sought to wield power over them." He turned fully to face him; the dark robes looked strange on Obi-Wan, who had never worn anything but the neutrals of a Jedi, "You've strayed so far from the path, Anakin." he said, "But you can still turn back - you needn't dwell in your own darkness to enact change in this galaxy."

Anakin didn't seem too put out by his former comrade's lack of enthusiasm for his current position. It certainly wouldn't be like Obi-wan to enjoy his current position or show a sliver of emotion. He was, essentially, caged without the reality of iron bars. Both he and the boy formally known as Lord Vader, knew this. "You'll notice that I didn't ask. I stated a fact." His handsome face, smooth and angular except for a scar around one of his eyes, darkened ever so slightly. Would it kill him to be grateful? It was only Anakin's influence that had kept Obi-wan alive. He'd driven a hard bargain with the Emporer, but then again he hadn't been expecting any thanks for his mercy. His dark look disappeared for a few moments as he watched in utter fascination as his former master came near the window, the light shining in made him looke ten years younger. He decided one of his first actions would be to ensure that awful beard was shaved off. He'd never liked it to begin,but at the time his master had begun growing it, there was nothing he could do about it. Vader took a few steps forward until his taller and leaner frame stood mere inches from the jedi whose back was to him. He could see that the familar sunrise put Obi-wan to ease. He took advantage of that small moment to wrap an arm around Obi and yank him back against his bare chest. He stood there, simply locking his new apprentice in place, content to breath in Obi-wan's scent, feel the warmth of his body. It had been a horrid experience for him these last few days and it was clear from the way he held the smaller man that he was still deeply mourning Padme. Atleast that was one of the many reasons that lead him to cling to his beloved Obi-wan. "I cannot lose you. I've lost everyone and everything else....but not you. You'll stay here with me and in time you will come to see things my way. I promise you this." His words were laced with raw emotion and if Obi-wan had the ability to feel through the force, which he didn't, he would find Anakin radiating with pain, hope, sadness, and love. Eventually he pulled away, rather sharply at the harsh words dealt to him. In an instant his face twisted into an enraged expression. "You will not speak of the old ways! I forbid it! I do not want to hear of it. The jedi are dead and gone. That is all there is to it. If the empire is as horrible as you say, then tell me why no one is opposing it? There have been no further incidents since I 'cultivated' the temple as you so delicately put it. Everyone was all too happy to abandon the Replublic! There are no rebel fractions, Obi-wan. You alone are resisting the new order."

Obi-Wan was - tired. In fact, he was exhausted, and without the Force to garner a little extra strength, his mind was almost hazy - he only became aware of Anakin's approach moments before the arms secured around him. It was a bizarre sensation; Jedi weren't forbidden to touch, but Obi-Wan had always been distant, only ever touched others to shake hands during formal meetings, or would rarely place a gentle hand on Anakin's shoulder for comfort - but those times were few and far between, and save for sparing embraces when Anakin had been a child in need of comfort, the two men had rarely touched. To be pulled back into his former Padawan's arms was strange, and particularly with the words that accompanied the touch. Obi-Wan stiffened visibly; he didn't fight the embrace, but he didn't respond to it either; so unused to touch that didn't come from combat, the Jedi Knight seemed completely unsure of how to react to it. For that long moment, he could feel the heat of Anakin's chest through the material of the robes, could feel his heart throbbing, could feel his breath across his ear, enough that Obi-Wan almost had to duck his head as the air brushed across his neck. Obi-Wan felt his own heart jump; he ignored it. "You've lost yourself, Anakin." Obi-Wan replied, and he felt Anakin pull away then, a jerky movement as the younger man stalked the room, like a wild cat all over again. "The Force lives on, as does the Jedi code - there is no aggressive opposition to the Empire out of fear; those who oppose it are being eradicated, you must see this - all of the death and destruction that has paved the path to the empire's ruling isn't for the greater good - it's to ensure unquestioning, frightened obedience." His eyes moved back to the sunlight, "If I am alone in this, then I will continue to resist alone." Obi-Wan said simply, but the tone of his voice indicated he wasn't particularly convinced he was alone - even with so many Jedi gone, there would be others who opposed the Empire. There would be so many more, and they would only grow in number as years passed.

Anakin had always known of his master's coldness, his inability to express emotion and ofcourse his adversion to touch. It was part of what had drew him to Padme when he met up with her once again. Padme, who lavished love and affection upon a boy who was dearly starved of it. It was no wonder he'd fallen for her and begun a love affair that had been destined to end in tragedy from the moment it began. It seemed Anakin was forcing Obi-wan to stay with him and he showed no signs of remorse for this. He feared being alone, his fear fueled his uncertaintly and anger...the list of dark emotions ran on and on. Least of all...lust. It soon became apperent that he was growing tired of the hopeful drivel that his master was spewing. It was blasphemy against the Emperor, his new master and he wouldn't allow it. In his own warped mind, he had already justified the means towards this end. He didn't want to rationalize it on different terms. In a different light, it made him a murderer instead of a hero. His pride and conscience couldn't bear that burden. "Silence!" His voice seemed to shake the very walls of the building again. He wasn't controlling the raw enegery building up inside of him, which caused it to leak out and cause damage. A crack appeared in glass window where Obi-wan stared out into the warm skies. A bird with clipped wings. How appropriate. "I don't care if I lose myself, so long as I don't lose those I love." His voice calmed slightly, drawing back to sit on the recently occupied bed. "I meant what I said before. Don't speak of the jedi, the code, or anything else related to your old life. I don't want to hear about it. Everyone is dead and gone. Get over it. If you insist on disobeying me then I will be forced to employ punishment. I can make your life much worse, I am veing extremely kind to you right now out of our friendship."

Obi-Wan watched a vein appear in the glass in front of him, cracked from Anakin's fury, from his loss of control, from his rage - Anakin was standing on a ledge, prepared to leap from it, to tumble down into an endless abyss. After what his former apprentice had done, he had thought the boy he had once known would be completely lost - but no, there were signs of him still, an indication that Anakin Skywalker could still be retrieved from the darkness. He inspected the glass for a moment, almost thoughtfully, and traced a long, calloused finger against the fracture. The skyline of Coruscant looked back at him, a world continuing on, but now with a shadow cast over it. "The Empire has already led to the death of many that you love." Obi-Wan replied softly, knowing he was enraging Anakin, knowing all too well that he would pay for it, yet unable to find it in himself to care, "Every Jedi Knight you grew up with, Master Jinn, Kolar, Windu, the younglings. All of them, casualties of the Empire, casualties of a system that destroys everyone in its path." His back still turned away, he was unmoving for a long moment, then he spoke again, "There is no physical pain you can cause me that will outweigh what has already been done." Obi-Wan replied, voice calm, almost as though he were in meditation.

The calmer Obi-wan became, the angrier Anakin seemed to become. As his temper rose, the reddish cracks in his eyes widened, drowning out the sickly yellow color. He began to pace back and force, a dangerous and sleek jungle cat getting ready to pounce on his prey. "Masters, apprentices, younglings...it doens't matter anymore. Weren't you the one always preaching that the past belongs behind us?" He snapped, flinging his arm out in Obi-wan's direction and as he did so an invisible hand grabbed the jedi master by his throat, lifting him up off of the ground and tossing him in the direction of the bed. A split second later the blonde sith lord was crouching overtop of him, glaring down into those green eyes. "You've always said I feel too much. Well, if that is true then you feel too little. All I have ever wanted, all I ever needed was something you never gave freely. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how I grew and mastered what you taught, it was never enough. Do you know how maddening that was?" His hands gripped Obi-wan by the wrists, pinning him forcefully to the bed. Every muscle in his body was taut and strained, his eyes glazed somewhere between insanity and rage. "If you refuse to listen to me, then I will just have to begin your training a bit early, my apprentice." He took great pleasure in calling Obi-wan his student, that much could be gleamed from the grin on his face. "I have a new code for you to learn and you will recite it until you commit to memory." This brought memories of long ago when his master had made him recite the jedi code over and over again until he had commited it to memory. "Peace is alie, there is onlypassion." He switched both wrists into one hand, using his freed hand to yank open the black cloak Obi-wan wore, sliding his hand down his chest, making no secret of his current motive. "Throughpassion, I gainstrength." Their lips were now mere inches apart. "Throughstrength, I gainpower. ThroughpowerI gainvictory Through victory my chains are broken. The force shall set me free. Repeat it." Ofcourse he wasn't really expecting Obi-wan to obey.

He hadn't turned, but he could hear Anakin behind him, his footsteps shifting back and forth - normally the younger man stepped too silently, but the heaviness of the heel strike told Obi-Wan that the rage was building in his former apprentice. Obi-Wan felt no fear, he didn't tense the way a man should when faced with imminent death - he simply stood there in silence as though it was back to a time when Anakin was his padawan and he was patiently waiting for his apprentice to complete some part of his training. "The past belongs behind us," Obi-Wan agreed, "But that doesn't mean it should be forgotten." Suddenly there was restriction in his breathing; brute strength clamped down around his neck and he found himself sprawled out on the wide bed. He immediately tried to get up, but Anakin was on top of him, glowering down at him, eyes filled with crimson rage and his beautiful face twisted with something horrible. Hands like steel bars clamped over his wrists, held them down, and Obi-Wan stared up at Anakin, honest surprise showing in green eyes when his robes were wrenched open, baring his upper torso. A hand slipped down his skin, strange and foreign, and Obi-Wan told himself it was simply Anakin's attempt to make his current weakness more apparent - this was, surely, just a build up to violence. It was inevitable, given what had been done to every other Jedi the Empire had encountered - though, most of them had died quickly. There was some small relief in that knowledge. There was no pause after Anakin's demand, not even a moment where he considered repeating the Sith code. "There is no emotion, there is peace." Obi-Wan said loyally, pressing back against the sheets to put just a little more space between them, his eyes still on Anakin's, "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge."

Anakin's lips quirked into a wide and dangerous smile, almost as if he'd been expecting this little act of defiance. Obi-wan just wouldn't be himself if he gave in so easily. It's what made things interesting. His free handslid up, pressing a finger to his apprentice's mouth, feeling the prickliness of his beard. He decided that would have to go, without it the jedi would look so much younger. "That oath is extinct, apprentice. It is full of lies and hypocracy." His eyes were twinkling eerily with devilish intent. Obi-wan could be as defiant as he wanted to be, Anakin didn't mind if this particular learning session was drawn out all day and night because he could indulge himself in leaning Kenobi's very lean and fit body. "You're beautiful Obi-wan, no matter how you try to hide it under that beard. I have desired you ever since I was old enough to know what that meant. You have been my brother and my father, but I would have you be my lover. If you insist on spouting lies....then I will do what I have to, to set you on the right path." He heaved a mocking sigh, acting as if he were getting ready to do a chore. Wordlessly his head dropped and his lips wasted no time seeking out Obi-wan's, his hand raising to hold his former master's by the chin, holding him in place for the long, passionate and drugging kisses that followed. If General Kenobi was ice, then Anakin surely was fire, scorching and claiming with his mouth. His tongue delicately prying the jedi's lips apart, dipping leisurely into that warm cavern and claiming it as vigorously as he had his mouth. Atlast he pulled away for a breath of air, grinning down at what was surely a very shocked and flsutered apprentice. "You never even knew how I've longed for you. I love you. I would give my life for you, I would do anything for you." He loved Padme as well, but she was gone and though he still mourned her, he had pressing matters to attend to. His hand loosened it's grip on Obi-wan's chin and slid down the bare plains of his chest, taking a detour to pinch one of his nipples. "Recite the correct oath and I will cease touching you. I certainly hope you are feeling up to your usual stubborn self today..."

Even pinned, powerless, weaponless, and with Anakin's hands on him, Obi-Wan Kenobi was resolute; he saw the cold smile that was crawling across the younger man's face but he continued on despite knowing he seemed to be encouraging something awful in Skywalker. "There is no passion, there is serenity." Obi-Wan continued, until a finger pressed to his lips to silence him, and he watched the other man, his expression peaceful while Anakin's was something dark humoured - and it remained peaceful, up until the point Anakin began to speak again. Slowly, something like puzzlement crossed the Jedi Master's face; Kenobi had always been a man of intellect and rationale, but in regards to the delicate matter of other people's emotions, he had never been terribly perceptive. He had, of course, always been aware of the close bond between him and his former apprentice, aware of the friendship that had blossomed over the years and the strange connection that had developed, as it always did between apprentice and master. But the sudden proclamation of desire - something that the Jedi Code had always warned padwan and masters alike about - was cause for Obi-Wan's brows to climb high; his lips parted very slightly in his astonishment, which turned out to be a mistake on his part as Anakin suddenly dipped in and claimed his mouth. That was what he did then - heclaimedhis mouth; it wasn't a chaste kiss, or even a sweet one - it was something passionate and furious, a perfect reflection of Anakin, and the sensation of it was pure heat. For a moment, Obi froze against Anakin, eyes wide as his mouth was ravaged by a long, hot tongue - and after a long moment, the Jedi began to writhe beneath the other man, shifting and trying to pull away from the kiss, but the hand on his jaw held him in place. When Anakin finally broke away for air, Obi-Wan could only stare up at him in shock, his mind refusing to process what was happening, searching for any other reason, any explanation, but coming up with none. Anakin was acting of his own volition, all of his behaviours were unrestrained, without rules or any code beyond the one that told him to forget what he had been taught as a Jedi Knight. This was Anakin Skywalker, saying he wanted him, saying he loved him, pinning him down and telling him to betray the Code he had been raised by. "There is no death," Obi-Wan continued breathlessly, pushing himself onwards; Anakin's hand had begun to slide down his chest, and long fingers pinched at one of his nipples, causing the Jedi to jerk violently as the sensation clawed down his spine, painfully responsive. There was a hitch in his breath, but still he refused the order he had been given. "There is the Force."

"Stubborn as usual...." Anakin's voice deepened to a huskier tone which would have normally made any female lifeform in the immediate area feel an urge to procreate. With his brooding good locks, Anakin had never lacked for admirers. No matter what planet they landed on, inevitably women were drawn to him. This had both negative and positive outcomes. The scar which lined his left eye only drew on his brooding looks, lending his previously boyish face a more mature and battle hardened edge. He and Obi-wan had seen many battles, they had saved eachother's lives countless times. Feelings and emotions were bound to grow. They had lived, breathed, eaten, and slept in close quarters for over ten years. "It's ok. I was counting on that." His lips were inches from the jedi master's ear, breathing sin with every rise and fall of his chest. "Please, take your time. I want to learn your body.." He certainly had no shame. No restraint. No embarassment. Obi-wan problably had Padme to thank for that. His fingers roamed to the other nipple, giving the pink nub a sharp pinch before sliding his other hand up to capture the abondonned nipple. He began to rolling and tweak both nipples for a few moments, his dark eyes never leaving his former master's face, capturing every reaction and committing it to memory. "When you're ready to tell me something other then the lies you seem so intent on clinging to, you know what to do. There can only be one code." His tongue began to trace a long wet line down Obi-wan's throat, stopping to lap at the fast beating pulse at his jugular vein and then detouring down his neck to nibble on his collar bone. "Mmmm..." Even his voice was pure sex, dripping with sin and dark intentions. One of his hands relinquished a nipple in favor of sliding down the center of his chest, stopping to caress various scars he found along the way. He had been there to witness most of these scars, he knew them by heart, knew every injury his former master had suffered. Tenderly he allowed his figners to trace a jagged pink scar along Obi-wan's lower stomach, just above his pants. "I killed the nemodian who gave you this. You remember? My first kill." He had been very young at the time and frightened when his mentor went down during a fight. He had struck out at the alien being in anger and won by pure luck.

Obi-Wan Kenobi the normally stoic Jedi Master was presently unable to completely remove the expression of shock from his face; though most of his features remained unreadable, it was his eyes that gave him away - ever expressive, they widened when Anakin's fingers tugged and pinched at him, a motion that made the muscles in his chest and stomach spasm in response. With both of Anakin's hands at his chest now, Obi-Wan pushed his hands beneath himself to try and move away from the younger man, to put some space between them, but his former Padawan was busily murmuring against his neck, and he could feel the warm trail of a mouth along his skin, teeth along his collarbone - fingers, drawing lines across the lifetime of scars that marred him. He felt the fingertips drag along an older scar that sat on his abdomen, just near the dip of his hipbone, and he closed his eyes, simultaneously trying to supress a shudder that went through him. "I remember." Obi-Wan confirmed, "You were - angry. Frightened. You reacted - and you felt guilt afterwards." He opened his eyes again, "But what about now, Anakin? Do you feel guilt? Master Windu - surely that couldn't have been an easy task for you, not just the action itself - but your involvement in his death. You grew up with him - he knew you since you were very young." Obi-Wan said, trying to disregard the lingering heat on his skin from where Anakin had touched him, trying to redirect Anakin's attention.

"I reacted to protect you. To save you. I took up your lightsaber and struck down the creature who wounded you." It seemed like forever ago. He'd barely been a padawan more then a year and still hadn't been issued his own lightsaber. Padawans at that early of a stage were always told to run or hide during battle situations. He had disobeyed the rules even back then. From that day on, the darkness inside of little Ani had reared it's ugly head. His eyes had blazed that day much the same as they did now when he was enraged. Standing over the body of his conquered enemy, the young padawan Anakin had dropped his master's lightsaber and fell to his knees. His robes had been soaked in blood for the first time that day...and the only consolation he had gotten from his master had been a lecture on what he -should- had done and an awkward hug before Obi-wan had been taken to the medical facilities. Anakin's guilt had lasted all of three long days. To console himself he only had to look at his master, telling himself that Obi-wan was alive and breathing because Anakin had acted to save him. If he had turned tail and ran as his master had told him to do that day, Obi-wan would not have survived. He justified his own actions. "I knew from the very beginning that the jedi order was outdated and faulty." He said softly. It had been a lesson well learned. He ran his thumb over the scar littering Obi-wan's hip and abdomen, a light feathery touch. "....had I followed the rules that day, you would not be alive. You protected me many times, you've pulled my butt out of many a dangerous situations....and you said it yourself on Genova. You love me." Like a brother, like a father....but surely there was more. He was betting on it and Anakin had always been particularly good at games of chance and luck. His hand slipped lower as his head dipped, his yellowish-red eyes smoldering as his lips caught a pink nub and latched on tightly while his hand worked at undoing the lower portion of Obi-wan's clothes. He seemed content to carry out his sinful explorations...until Mace Windu was brought up. His head snapped up, remembering that fateful night when he had struck down Master Windu. His eyes fell shut, his hands stilling. He could still see it all so clearly. Mace had been hellbent on destroying the sith. He hadn't been willing to listen to Anakin's pleading at all. It had all happened so fast....and before Anakin could stop himself he had acted on impulse. Remorse. Yes. He had felt remorse.What have I done? "I'm glad you brought that up. Master Windu was in the process of killing Emporer Palpatine once I alerted him to the presence of a sith. He wouldn't listen to me. He was going to kill Palpatine without a trial. Now tell me, is that the way of the your prescious republic? I killed him and whatever remorse I felt was brief. I realized then that the jedi are just as, if not even more corrupt then the sith."

"You reacted with your feelings," Obi-Wan replied, "You reacted because of - because of the connection we had, instead of reacting as you had been taught to. You could have been killed that day, Anakin - the rules for Padwan learners had been created with a purpose, not as an act of cruelty or even control, but to keep Padawans alive through the course of their training." Fingers were trailing over his side now, the touch so light that it felt vaguely like he was being tickled, and Obi-Wan's muscles twitched in reaction. He shifted his eyes away, off to the side of the room and his voice was distant when he spoke again: "I appreciated what you did for me that day, but I couldn't be lax on the rules - you started your training very late and you needed boundaries. You needed discipline. But even then, we still butted heads like feuding Acklays." Anakin lowered, and he felt his former Padawan's mouth - oh god. Obi-Wan's entire body had tensed now, his jaw clenched shut, and Anakin's hands were busying themselves with unlacing the loose trousers - but he stopped, he stilled entirely for a long moment as something the Master had said finally had some impact on him. His eyes snapped back to Anakin, voice filled with - disbelief. "Master Windu's purpose in coming to Palpatine had been to put him under arrest pending a trial - you know as well as I do that Windu would never attack without provocation. Palpatine killed Kolar, Tiin, and Fisto - their corpses were strewn across the chancellors office - surely you've made the connection that Windu's actions were as a result of self-defense, not some malicious and unprovoked treason. Has your hatred blinded you so thoroughly?"

Anakin decided to busy himself once more with sampling the delights of his apprentice's body, lowering his head an swiftly capturing a pebbled nipple in his mouth once more, sucking at a leisurely pace, content to swipe his tongue across the nub every few seconds. When he drew back, he caught the nipple gently between his teeth and gave a small 'tug', stretching the sensitive nub almost to the point of pain before releasing it entirely. "Discipline. Boundaries. Yes you were always very good at instilling both of those. Always distant and removed from every situation. The jedi made you so cold....but I will melt away those icy teachings." Ah, he was feeling poetic. He always did have a talent for such things. "...and I believe I will enjoy the process. You've already broken one of your prescious rules. You. Love. Me." He punctuated each word with a slow, sensual flick of his tongue across nipple opposite the one he had just lavished attention upon. "You could have killed me on Genova..and yet you didn't. You left me alive. Face it Obi-wan. If I am a monster, then you made me so. Look upon your creation." A warped and twisted sith stood in Anakin Skywalker's place, taking on his form, speaking his words, seducing with all the passion the young padawan had always displayed just a bit too fervently. "I progressed through my training at nearly ten times the pace a normal padawan would, even with my late start I excelled in everything. No matter what I did, it was never enough for you Obi-wan. As for Mace Windu....you weren't there. You may have seen the holograph of it, but you weren't there in the moment. Windu had him cornered, weakened, and broken. Still he would not relent. He kept up his attack and would have killed the chancellor, had I not intervened." It obviously bothered him a bit because he scraped his teeth across a tender nipple, holding back and impulse to bite down. "We seem to have gotten off subject....now why don't you repeat the sith code for me. If not..." His hand slid boldly beneath the loosened trousers, his figners seeking and immediately curling around the hardening length he found inside.

The muscles in Obi-Wan's jaw and neck were working visibly when Anakin's tongue continued to flick over his nipple, his muscles twitching responsively and stiffening when teeth tugged and pulled and manipulated already too-tender skin, his reactions strong after spending most of his life avoiding touch; it seemed every brush against him was causing shocks through his body. He found himself staring at Anakin, expression etched with something difficult to define, "The code does not discourage love," Obi-Wan said, voice vaguely chastising, even now - old habits died hard, "It inspires it, Anakin - but a love for all things, spiritual rather than emotional, a complete connection to the world around you through the Force, through the peace it provides." Of course, Anakin was correct - Obi-Wan did love his former apprentice, but he loved quietly - and his only way to show it had been giving Anakin the training, teaching him, giving him guidelines to live by. That was Obi-Wan's love, and he knew little else. "You're no monster, that title can scarcely be applied, even if your actions were monstrous - you're misguided. A Jedi strayed from the path; your passion and fury led you astray Anakin." Obi-Wan said, persisting, trying to get through to Anakin, only to discover that the younger man was retreating to the darkness again. Fingers. A large, warm hand grasped him. Obi-Wan jerked beneath Anakin, pleasure suddenly clawing across his entire body, followed immediately by the ingrained thoughts of how - wrong - this was. Instinctively, Obi-Wan sought out the Force, seeking to end the contact between them, only to encounter what he had found before, a wall. Then the pain came, sudden and sharp and all-encompassing and Obi-Wan let out a small gasp of pain, eyes shutting as he braced himself against it - it was worse than the first time, he discovered, and when it died away it left him breathless and dazed.

"According to your own teachings, my love for you, even Qui-Gon's love for you was selfish." He loved to point out holes and flaws in Obi-wan's reasoning, even if his own explanations were a bit lacking. He had never exactly been a great philosopher. Anakin had always been one to ignore negotiating tactics and jump straight into battle mode. It had taken him a long time to learn what little caution he had. His impatience had cost him his arm in the fight against Dooku. It was a lesson well learned. He watched his former master react to his touch, smirking as he noted the play of emotions over Obi-wan's face. Shock. Pleasure. Denial. Just as he'd thought. "You've never been touched like this before? I thought you and Qui-Gon were close...." He taunted, his voice deep and smooth as silk as he began to glide his hand up and down. On his first upward stroke he felt Obi-wan's body tense and flinch, not a pleasurable reaction at all. He felt him reach out to the force through what remained of their fragile bond. It was foolish, but he supposed it was a reflex for Obi-wan to try to use the force to push Anakin away. "Shhh...Obi-wan." He soothed, feeling a stab of pain in his own heart as he felt Obi-wan spasm in pain from the chip activating. His free hand began to slide through his hair, stroking his scalp tenderly as he waited for the waves of searing pain to pass. He was capable of mercy, love, sympathy...atleast when it came down to Obi-wan. "I know how it feels to have a tiny chip control your life." He said, raw anguish in his voice. He had been a slave, his life had been controlled by others and it didn't sit right with him to have Obi-wan in the same situation. "I didn't want the procedure to be done, but this was the only way. I swear that I will have it removed as soon as I can trust you not to attack or escape. For now, try not to control or access the force."

Kissing Radiant Son "Your Plentifulness, we must depart within the hour!" The man who spoke had skin weathered from much sun and wind. His hands were rough and calloussed, his frame both strong and bent from hard work over many years. His face was both pleading and afraid. "The Dune People will have us if we pass through that place at night. Unless we leave now, there's well be not enough time! We'll have to wait until tomorrow." "It's...absolutely impossible!" The man he spoke to was seated behind a large desk, imported from the verdant woods and master craftsmen of the East. It was tall and long, decorated with many expensive but useless treasures, a not altogether poor representation of the man behind it. He was fat and soft, accustomed to easy living. His fingers gleamed with rings. Despite the breeze blowing through, and the fact that it was a cool day for the warm South, he was sweating slightly, and seemed distracted and tense. 'You, hnn, you will have to wait. Once I...recieve word that...your papers are in, huhh, order, you may leave." "But, Your Opulence-!" The fat Guild Factor gasped, then leaned forward, hands spreading on the surface of the desk, "I will! Ah, I will hear no more. Go and make ready, withh luck, you may yet...l-leave on time." Then he seemed to relax, letting out a long, slow breath with a smile. He waved his hand at the caravan master, the other man bowing, glaring at the floor, and then leaving the office. The Guild Factor pushed his chair back, looking down into the area of the desk for his legs. "It will be as you asked, I will clear them to go immediately." The chubby man smiled, "You bargain well, and do not disappoint. Perhaps I could convince you to stay? I have need of a way to...release the stress of my work." From under the desk, a young man was climbing out and standing. He was taller than the factor by a good bit, with a hardy, athletic frame conditioned into hard muscle by the savage North, wiry and strong without sacrificing agility. He wore simple, functional, slightly loose clothes in a dark blue that had been bleached somewhat by the sunlight, yellow at the cuffs and trim of his tunic. He was handsome to the point of being beautiful, his face fine, noble, and strong. His eyes were steady, determined orbs of emerald, and his hair was like a rich cascade of copper to the nape of his neck. "You're offer is generous, but my work is with the caravan, and those I hope to meet." He lifted a finger to wipe off a thin trail of cum that was sliding down his chin. "I thank you for your willingness to deal and see reason." Radiant Kissing Son inclined his head. "I will take my leave and inform the caravan master we may depart immediately." The Factor looked disappointed, but waved for him to go. Radiant Kissing Son turned and left the man to his graft and his shallowness. It would be dealt with in time, but for now, the slug of a man had opened the way to a great undertaking. The caravan would be well past the places where the Dune People dragged men and woman to die and devour them by the time nightfell, but he would not be. He would be there, waiting. And then, he would begin to bring this part of the world into a more beneficent frame.

Taredo was flying back to his homeland of the South, at the moment in the form of his totem: the steel shadow. He had left when he had Exalted and had been found by his mentor who had sealed his Caste. She had told him that like several of their kind, his Caste was not under the same auspice of Luna that it had been in the old days. She had been a cryptic old lady, prone to riddles and jokes which had left Taredo rather frustrated. She had even had the gall to tell him his new dreams were some type of prophecy or perhaps a window into the past. All his life Taredo had been able to control his dreams with complete lucidity, yet since he had Exalted his dreams had resisted his attempts to question or change them, leaving him feeling oddly helpless even as he felt so empowered. His mentoring had ended, if not only because she had not been a Full Moon, but also when she gave him a prophecy to follow. "There is one who would help you in your quest. One born of the cold and savage lands above and gifted with the might to melt the ice. One who's cold logic will help your heated passion with your people." Then she had smiled and turned back to the stars in her typical infuriating way like there was some great secret she was leaving out, "And perhaps one who's heat can melt your own inner cold." It had been a blessing and he had left rather early. He had easily found his people but had yet to rejoin them, and even to keep too much of a track on them. He knew he was about three days away from them since he had seen them last. He just knew it would be a waste of time to come before them without anyone to help. He knew his limitations, and being a chieftain was one of them. Besides, how long would they follow him into the desert searching for some person from a "cold" world that he didn't know where was? How many would die while they left their designated hunting grounds for this errand? No, he was here to serve his people. It was not the other way around. His sharp night eyes spied something in the distance, perhaps a mile away. His wings shifted and he began to dive, more curious about this speck that didn't look like it belonged on the desert dunes. His bird form flitted about, the feathers dotted with what could be said was picturesque vitiligo, the white spots on the feathers imitating his silver tattoos on his other true forms. The bird got closer and saw that what was on this dune was a man. Then the visions began. A woman, himself?, running in the woods, jumping from branch to branch as a horde of creatures followed her. The creatures were like nothing Taredo had ever seen, or even thought of. He couldn't get a good look at him, but the woman's laughter echoed in his head before the vision flashed away. A swarthy Western man with purple hair, checking out the sea in front of him. Another man came up behind him, one of the sun children. He was turned around and kissed romantically and felt the love of equals sparking between them. The Western man again, angry beyond reckoning, chasing down something that smelled of tainted copper and irreverence. The ships were surprised by some gigantic saw-bladed tail and the boat beside his shattering into a million fragments of wood and steel. They should have brought the magical boats. They were too foolish. Support wouldn't get there in time. The Western man's corpse held in the arms of a sobbing man. The same man from before? A new life, such grand senses! Yes, a fresh Exaltation like before. No confusion from the Castelessness...what was this? Worry. Why is he doing this? How many lives have they had together? Has he died before? Why can't I remember? Why? Too many doubts. Too few pieces to the puzzle. Pain. Fear. Anger. Betrayal. Shifting woods. Shifting rivers. Land that follows no rules. Pain. Unbearable pain. A woman in white weeping for her wounded children. A sound of reality breaking, the laws of Creation warped to their very breaking point as a screech of unimaginable agony and sanity. Then there was no pain. No sanity. Taredo found his eyes opening and looking up at a man he loved with every once of his body. A man who he knew immediately to be of the Unconquered Sun's brood and someone he had shared a deep, deep connection with before. Several times. Yet it was a sense of deja-vu that just couldn't be put back together. It was so overpowering that Taredo did not even question how he had ended up landing on the sand from his flight. He also looked so...different. He was not from the South. He might be the one who his mentor had meant. There was only one way to find out. He shifted, small flickers of pale Essence radiating from his body as he took the form of a Southern female, her dark skin melting into the night. Taredo didn't quite trust to use his true form. Not yet at least. "You, child of the Nightmare Lord, are you searching for the Dune People? Do you come from a land of cold?" It was direct, Taredo wasn't much for stepping around. His left arm held a bracer of crystal bolts, signifying that he was most likely not a spirit, not this far from Rathess.

The caravan had gone. It had taken some convincing for them to leave him behind, but the passage of time had worked in his favor. They would not risk the whole caravan to the Dune People for the sake of one man's life. The sun should be scorching him, searing his skin until it peeled from his body. The harsh wind should scrape and scour him. But the spirit of the hardship surviving mendicant was with him, and they touched him not. He sat down on a dune, a blanket spread out under him, a bag full of provisions at his side. Feeling his patron's rays beating down on him, he focused his mind and waited. It was many hours later when he felt the tug. Something was coming. A shadow flickered over him, his eyes snapping up to see a great bird, spinning down towards the ground through the twilight sky. Yet something was not right about it. Or something was very right. Radiant Kissing Son leaped to his feet as the bird landed, and his head swam. There was a heavy sense of knowing, of familiarity, of deep and desperate want, of heartfelt love, swarming around and through him. He remembered... The westerner's darker skin rubbed over his, their bodies entwined, heat and pleasure soaking through him. There was a rush of Essence, and he was joined now with a great bird, groaning as it filled him. Another time, and he held a dying man in his arms, weeping, his love lost, slain. "I will find you," he promised, swearing it to himself as his power flared, "But first they will pay." He stood, feeling different, a robe falling from his body, striding into the water towards a startled youth. He reached out to pull the youth close, cradling him to her breasts, "I found you, again, my true one," she cooed. She cried out, pushing hard one last time, and a cry split the night as their son drew his first breath. Her body burned, blackened and seared by treacherous magic. Blind in one eye, she spilled out into the streets of the Imperial City, into the waiting legions of the Dragon-Blooded. She snarled, determined to reap her due before she fell. Endless walls of jade. Nothing. No feeling or time. Just floating. His thoughts turning to many faces, flickering through his memory, all the same, all him, all his love... He staggered back, one hand covering his right eye as if he expected it to be gone. His gaze was a bit wild as the bird's form blurred and twisted, rearing up into that of an exquisite Southern woman, her eyes confused, suspicious, wanting. "You, child of the Nightmare Lord, are you searching for the Dune People? Do you come from a land of cold?" Radiant Kissing Son looked at the woman, placing a fist against one open hand and bowing, though his eyes stayed on her. "I am no child of nightmares, but one of Creation. As are all under the eyes of the sun and moon." He straightened up. His pale skin seemed to gleam in the darkness of night. "I come far from here, across the seas and the Blessed Isle, to the North, where the winds are enough to freeze the very air in a man's lungs. Yes, I come from a land of cold. My name is Radiant Kissing Sun, and by your appearance, I would guess you are from this land of fire. But I know well that in the case of many, to judge by such things is unwise." He took a step back, smiling courteously. "Will you tell me as much of yourself as I have to you?"

Taredo eyed the man bowing before him and said nothing. The form he used walked around the man, taking in his form as he judged him in his mind. His memory was rushing through the thoughts he had had before, the fragmented memories that made no sense. The ones that stated he should love this man. His upbringing won over against the centuries old fragmented memories. "You are a child of the Nightmare Lord. The four-armed sun champion who scorched my people into obeisance in the old days back when we were cruelly lorded over by the Great Liar. The careless father who abandoned us to the care of the Sweet Moon Caretaker who sent us both mother and father from her merciful womb. Perhaps you seek penitence from your lord's uncaring attitude? Perhaps you are a test for me to kill. Perhaps I am completely wrong." The circling ended and Taredo looked deep into the eyes of this Northern man. "My sobriquet is Sunscorner." Taredo waited for a flinch, perhaps some sense of weakness where he would end this trivial name game and lunge for this person's throat and take his flesh for himself. There was none. Good. "My tribesmen will be at this very spot in three days time. If you can wait right here and survive the harsh days and cold nights, I will introduce you to them in a way they won't immediately try and destroy you. If her prophecy was correct, you are here to help me, Sun Child. I will accept it as I have no one else to give me any. Make no mistake; I would never work with you otherwise and as soon as our business is concluded, I shall be through with you." The final words were just slightly off from the woman's clipped, angry tone. As if she didn't quite believe it herself. Taredo started shifting once more, taking on the appearance of the steel shadow once more, the stolen woman's voice levying his last words, "Stay and prove yourself worthy or run and prove yourself prey. I am satisfied either way." The last bit was choked off as the vocal chords rearranged themselves. With a buffet of the powerful wings Taredo launched himself up at the light of his moon maiden, his sapphire eyes aimed down at this strange man. This strange man who conflicted him in so many ways. As much as he wished, he couldn't stay away. He returned later that night when he was certain the Exalt was asleep and laid a dead desert hare near the blanket before slipping back into the sky. As much as he wished, Taredo couldn't watch this man starve to death. Besides, how was he to find his own food if he stayed in one spot? As the Unconquered Sun arose, Taredo took the form of a sandswimmer and dove under the protective grit of his homeland, his body listening for tremors as he dreamt. He saw a woman out by a lake, the fear of the world around her. The lady was collecting fruit and a monkey came and grabbed the basket. The lady did nothing but reach into the lake and produce a shiny stone and grabbed the monkey's attention. With a quick toss the lady launch the stone into the air, the monkey leaping after it and dropping the fruit. The monkey landed in the water and the woman caught the fruit. It was some time later, as the lady had been aged by years. She was selling produce and every time she would sell some to a person dressed in extravagance, she would place a shimmering pebble into the bag. The same monkey from before ran after the stone, coming back with it and the fruit. The lady seemed pleased and fed it. People with weapons. They had discovered the game and killed her pet. She stood, looking scared and wept. They ran for her, intent of retribution on their mind as the land under them gave way. The woman looked down from the pit with a contemptuous sneer on her face. Then came the rains. A laughing maiden, waking her up. The lady looked shocked as the woman takes the form of a monkey and hands her a piece of fruit. The lady bites down and the moon shines on her. She is now in the trees, both ape and woman, both trickster and warrior. The world needs freed. Taredo awoke, the cooling sands telling him it was safe to leave the cover. He grumbled to himself, coming out as odd lizard clickings. More bizarre dreams. More ones from times he didn't remember. He was getting irked. Time to go check on the Sun Child.

Radiant Kissing Son listened as the dark skinned woman circled and ranted about past grievances. His eyes narrowed a tiny hair. Idiocy. Everyone was so concerned with what had happened in an age that no one could even remember, that they let today slip into horror and even worse injustice. How petty such feelings were, when all of Creation was at stake! But he did not interrupt. He listened. This person, if it was a person, was telling him much. Likely far more than she meant to. If it was a she. A very curious being. He wanted to know more about this person. For many reasons, not the least of which was a feeling that he should know this entity. Know it, and care for it, and it for him. It was a distant emotion, as if recalled from across a great expanse of time, but strong regardless. He spoke only once, as the woman became the avian again and beat it's powerful wings to soar into the night sky. He called after it, "Which of us do you seek so firmly to convince, Sunscorcher?" It was him, in part. But he was just as sure that much of the performance had been for the shapeshifter's own benefit. Radiant Kissing Son watched the bird vanish into distance, then turned back to the blanket he had set out. Three days here. Not leaving would mean he could not gather food nor water. A grim task. But one he would succeed it. The Solar lay back down on the sheet. His thoughts turned again to the strange being who had confronted him, that he felt so deeply he should know. Was it a Fair Folk? Or a spirit? He doubted either. He felt certain it was one of the Lunar Anathema...but it was rash to accept that as fact, it was only a feeling. The next day when we awoke, he found a dead hare beside her blanket. The northerner looked at the animal and smiled sadly, "No, you would have nothing to do with me at all." The day was taken up in digging a small pit to urinate it, covering it with a heavy cloth after, an empty cup in the bottom and a rock in the cloth. That would gather some water. Along with the waterskins he had, it would likely be enough. Stripped to the waist; Radiant Kissing Son breathed deep of the dry, sandy air. The sun bore down on him now, bathing him in it's light and heat, mercilessly. To a lesser man it would be a punishing scourge. But to him, it was a blazing crucible, burning away what was impure in him, leaving only purpose, virtue, and unmistakable power. He slid into a stance, moving through the motions of the katas he had learned so painstakingly. He had to wait. But he would not be idle. The long hours of the day passed; the small figure moving in the shadows in practiced, clean, powerful motions. As dusk began to descend, he paused in his labor. Would Sunscorner come to him again? He prepared a fire, setting the now skinned hare to roast. If the changer came, he would be welcomed as a guest, with what little hospitality could be offered.

The sand near Radiant Kissing Son parted as a lizard head appeared out of the ground. It took in the sight and disappeared once more, sand parting effortlessly to make way. A few miles distant was a place with water, a rare sight in the South. Taredo changed into his normal form, white skin appearing with a faint glow under the moon. He bent down and gathered some of the water into a water skin and turned back into his avian form, flying back to his mate. The bird landed and took in the marks on Radiant Kissing Son, watching to see how well he fared. A small flicker encompassed the change of shape, Taredo now in the body of a thirty-something pudgy Realm man. Those in the know would recognize the form of Ledaal Varwei, a minor patrician of a tributary that went missing a few months back. He had been one of the first forms Taredo had taken. He enjoyed it. "You have done well your first day, Sun Child." Taredo handed him the water skin and sat down, the slight jiggle of his fat distracting him for a moment. He ran a hand over his stomach and looked back at the man who had come to help him. There were similarities from the woman the night before: they both bore the same wicked crystal weapon and they both wore what seemed to be tailor fitted steel shadow armor over their body. Part of Taredo wanted to ask how Radiant Kissing Son had been, if there was anything he could get for him, some need he might be able to lessen. The orichalcum strong memories of what the Unconquered Sun did to his people let nothing bend. Perhaps it was some sort of Solar magic. He had heard they had been very charismatic. The scents of the previous nights were still on Radiant Kissing Son and they mingled with today's. Taredo's nose inhaled the scents of sweat, burning flesh, and minor tell tale signs of sex. He almost cracked a smile at the idea that Radiant Kissing Son might be pleasuring himself while waiting for the Dune People. "My appearance challenges you? I am many faced, like the Silver Lady. If you are here this time the day after next, you will see my true form." Taredo enjoyed these games, but he was ever curious. You never got anywhere by just letting people tell you what was what and believing it, "Sun Child, why would you wish to help the Dune People at all? I thought my kin were under the notice of your kind. Both human and Sun Touched. At best, I thought we would register contempt. We eat your kind, and I would bet you my virginity I am the only one of my type that considers humans even remotely the same species." He didn't know why he let slip he was a virgin. He hadn't realized how utterly relaxed he was around this man even as he awaited some type of devious tricks.

The Solar had noted the appearance of the lizard with interest, momentarily wondering if he should strike this source of food that had presented itself. Yet it was not behaving like an animal. So he merely looked back at it, nodding in acknowledgment of its' presence. He continued to tend to the meat he was preparing after the creature disappeared. Soon after, the bird swooped in again, this time dissolving into a far different shape. "Good evening," he greeted the shape shifter, "and thank you for your compliment." Again as the being paced about him, Radiant Kissing Son listened. So much was given away in those questions, in that speech. Did this one even know how much was being revealed? It was young, perhaps, or merely inexperienced in social matters. When the being now wearing the shape of a man finished, the pale skinned northerner gestured toward the fire, "Please sit and partake of this meal with me, and I will answer your many questions as I am best able." He cut a few pieces of meat for his guest with his iron knife, offering them to him on the hide taken from the creature. "I wish to help the Dune People because they would benefit from it. Helping them would also benefit everyone who lives near them. It will also benefit me and my goals. Thus, it is a course of action that can achieve a great deal of good, for a great many people." He cut himself a piece of the hare and chewed on it before swallowing. "You have made mention of past harm done, of indignities, though I note you mention nothing of your people's depredations or murderous cannibalism, yet neither of those are my concern." Radiant Kissing Son took a drink from the water skin, then offered it to his guest. "I am Chosen of the Sun, and as such, I have a great task before me, as do all like me. And all like you, Beloved of Luna." He smiled sadly, "You take the form of that great bird, and have flown far, I am sure. Perhaps far enough to see that Creation is breaking down. The shadowlands encroach more everyday, as does the Wyld, while the forces that may have a chance to hold them back squabble over remnants that will be stolen from the victor before they can be enjoyed." He shook his head, "It must not be so. The scattered peoples must put aside the past or there will soon be no future for Creation. That is why I have come here. Humans, and I include the Dune People and myself in that category, must no longer fracture but come together. This effort is the first of many, and will be a great thing, when it succeeds. The gains those groups involved will accrue will serve as an example to many others." The Solar looked at his dinner companion again, eyes keen, an easy smile on his handsome features. "And what of you? Why allow me this chance, if you truly believe all you have said to me?"

Taredo would not take any of the food, having fended for himself enough already. He listened intently on the banter and then cocked his head minutely at the questions given to him. "I have little recourse. Those gifted by the dragons are too fractious amongst themselves and would most likely turn on me for my roots and my blessings. No other Champions of Luna wish to have time in this endeavor, or are too busy. You are my only choice." He blatantly left out that for some reason he trusted the Solar against his better judgment. Plus, he had heard of Lunars living from the First Age. If that was true than a few years, even a few decades of working with this man would be like a drop in an ocean of life. "Besides, you Sun Children could work on some penitence. Perhaps you can also help restore some love for the Sun for my people." Taredo looked into the fire, staying silent for some time around this man. He feared opening his mouth if just because of his last slip up. There was just something about Radiant Kissing Son that made Taredo feel relaxed and welcomed. Was this how the Great Liar had made his people feel? Like they were important even as she had them be slaves in a temple of sex? "I will take my leave now. I shall return tomorrow night to see how you are doing." He collected his water skin from the Solar and leapt into the air, black feathers pushing him higher as the form wrapped around him. Again, Taredo found he couldn't stay away from his mate. The next morning would find a dead snake and a few small birds laid out just like the rabbit had been before. He had waited for the Solar to drop asleep before he left these gifts, and a keen nose would detect that he had been there just before the sun had risen. Under the sand the steel shadow left just enough room to watch and see what Radiant Kissing Son would do during the day. Taredo could live without one day's sleep. He was also just curious. This way he could also spy and see if this Solar was as treacherous as he had heard. There was a part of him who didn't think he would be, a part that wanted to get rid of this silly test and hold him under the protective sand while they slept. Yet pragmatism won over against emotion, as it always had with Taredo.

"If my actions do that, then all the better," was the pale skinned young man's only reply to the Lunar's comment about penance and improving the Unconquered Sun's image. That was all well and good, and in terms of the latter, something he wished to do. But it was also unimportant to this task. He had said that he wasn't concerned with the past. Particularly since as far as he had been able to discover, no one really knew what the past was. "Though you avoided the heart of the question, I will not press you. Surely you have reasons of your own." He ate in quiet then, his guest apparently happier with it. Perhaps he'd realized how much information he'd accidentally given away. Before his speech, Radiant Kissing Son had not known the being's origins or nature, but he had revealed both. The Solar stood up as his dinner guest announced he would be leaving. He bowed again, "Travel safely, Sunscorner, I look forward to our next meeting." He watched as the apparent man leaped up into the air, becoming the huge raptor and winging away. "How magnificent a sight he is!" Then he sighed, "And how conflicted. Or perhaps that too is another test..." ~~~ He rose just before the sun the next morning, as was his custom. Radiant Kissing Son stretched, then rolled into a somersault and came to his feet. Someone had been here. Recently. Within the last few minutes. There were still minute signs of passage. His eyes fell on the dead animals left behind. Very curious, indeed. "He is a kind host, if a mysterious one." He took a few minutes to clean the animals as best he knew how; snakes and small birds of this kind were not something he had dealt with before. He ended up deciding just to roast and eat the birds as they were. They were too small for him to be able to bone them with success. And it would be unwise to spread much offal and blood about. Something would come for it; and while he was not concerned with danger, he did not seek it out either. After his meal, he took out a charcoal stick and a piece of parchment. He had practiced his physical skills and martial arts yesterday, and would the martial arts again today, but now it was time to exercise the mind. Though waiting was not his preferred activity; it did give him time to practice. After some time, he set the writing implement down. He was being watched. It was a palpable feeling. He couldn't tell from where or by who, but it was strong. "Perhaps," he spoke aloud, "if you are curious about my presence here, it would answer your questions better to come out and speak to me." There was no response. Radiant Kissing Son smiled a bit, "So be it, but since I am still alive, I must assume you bear me no ill will. So I hope you do not mind if I talk, though there is no need to reply. I am glad of the company."

Taredo said nothing, he didn't even move. Sure, Radiant Kissing Son was mainly a blur thanks to the sunlight, but he figured that perhaps something else was around here as well. He was right. Lumbering over a dune was a large, somewhat horselike shape. It got closer and it became what looked like a three-eyed, large mouthed lizard. The beast looked like a carnivore on steroids, but anyone from the South knew them to be rather harmless, even helpful should the situation call for it. What Taredo didn't know was what was going to transpire next. The beast looked up at Radiant Kissing Son and pulled back it's thin lips, revealing a horrific portrayal of a smile, "Greetings, Sun Blessed. I was wandering a few yards distant and smelled the lovely aroma of ashes. Would you be so kind as to allow me to devour the remnants of your fire from last night? I have wandered for a while without a meal." The beast spoke perfect Old Realm, all the beasts did. Some knew Flametongue, some knew Low Realm, it just depended on the people they interacted with. With the remains of the night's fire devoured the creature bowed to Radiant Kissing Son and looked about, "You do know, Sun Blessed, that this is a hunting line of a Dune Person tribe, don't you? I am not sure if they could all defeat you, but they do not take kindly to your type. Old wounds and ills done to them. I believe a guild slave caravan is coming also, it should pass here by tomorrow. I believe they will be on its trail." The beast sounded vaguely female, as female as a lizard could. The Ash Devourer would dispense a bit more local knowledge, and when she realized she couldn't get the Solar to move she went on. Taredo had never heard of the creatures just giving information away, it was bizarre. Perhaps they had been made to act differently around the Solars. The rest of the day would go by with little interference, with Taredo listening in and watching how Radiant Kissing Son acted. He would make internal notes as to how it went before night fell. As the cold of the night ended Taredo took the form of the sand swimmer and moved father away from Radiant Kissing Son before he exited the sand. He once again drank at the oasis and gathered water before taking wing. He swooped down on a rather large burrowing rodent and kept it in his talons as he flew closer to his erstwhile partner. He landed and transformed into the chubby Realm man and offered the water skin up to Radiant Kissing Son with few words. An axe was removed from the back of the armor where it was kept sheathed and used on the rodent, cleaving the flesh open. The axe looked to be a makeshift item made of sharpened human bone and tied sinew to keep it in a proper shape. It had been strengthened somehow, most likely through Alchemy by the chieftain of the tribe. Taredo said nothing, eagerly devouring the still warm meat as he cut it from the beast, "Would you like some, Sun Child?" He smiled, revealing blood soaked teeth with bits of meat still flecked between them. Perhaps this was another challenge. Perhaps he was just finally warming up to Radiant Kissing Son.

Radiant Kissing Son inclined his head, but then shook it, "Thank you, Beloved of Luna, but I have eaten already this day, and would not deny the hunter the best of his catch." The delicate looking man smiled easily, "Eat your fill, and then we shall see what can be done with any that remains." He had spent some time after the Ash Devourer had left contemplating the words it had offered him. It was most unusual. He knew little of such creatures, but for it to be so helpful seemed strange. Particularly since it's information had to do with exactly what he was here to deal with. It was a bit too pat. He had continued to mull it over as he had practiced his forms and stances, sparring with imaginary foes while his mind wrestled with what to do about the information given to him. Taking another long drink from the water skin, he decided. The Solar rose to his feet, "I have learned that a Guild caravan will be here tomorrow." His brow darkened, for the first time since they met, negative emotions showing on the young man's beautiful face. Anger and disgust. "A slave caravan." As much as he tried to stay temperate and centered, he could not abide slavery. The abuses inherent in its very nature were repugnant horrors, ones he would purge from all Creation in time. Time that could not come soon enough. "Your people follow them, I have heard. To pick off weak or injured slaves, or any who escape." His anger grew at that. Contemptible. Abomination! "So they may be upon us before the time of trial you imposed upon me is finished." Radiant Kissing Son looked his dining companion in the face. Whoever's face he wore, anyway. "...I will not let them take anyone. If I must move from here to do so, I will. What then will be made of our agreement, Sunscorner?"

"You misunderstand. The Guild uses my people as the scary people of the night. Those that will get them if they try to escape. They then take the most crude and obstinate slaves and cripple them and leave them for us so we don't attack the caravan and perhaps end up killing THEM. If any slaves do escape it is much more likely dehydration, starvation, sun exposure, or other natural hazards get them instead of us. It works out in the end. None of us die taking out a few crippled slaves." Taredo tore into some more meat, letting his words sink into Radiant Kissing Son's head, "I do take an issue with your righteous indignation though. I'm the first of my kind in a while to see our kind as anything close to related to humans. At best we see humans as you would see cattle. Are you terribly angry when people slaughter cattle to eat? Do you worry about the rights of your cattle? Do you get angry when parts of one herd are taken to use in another? Most likely you don't. Yes, the Dune People need a new food source, but that will come in time. At the moment I would rather them take a few dregs of society, or perhaps the entire slave caravan, than starve and not get helped." He ripped through the giant rodent's stomach, spreading undigested grasses and cacti pieces everywhere as he cleaned the meat off to continue eating, "Tell you what: If you can, by the time the caravan comes by tomorrow, get enough food for the tribe, I'll help you save the slaves from the caravan. In fact, they could be the first group of humans we try to inculcate into the Dune People tribes." He let that stand for a while before moving on, "If not, I will allow the caravan on it's way and accept the offerings they wish to present to the tribe. I will also make sure, as best I can, that you do not interfere. I would regret the lives lost, but I would regret my own people going hungry more. Besides, as much as I know logically that humans and the Dune People need to work together, humans do taste good." He gave a smile that was probably much less predatory than if he had been in his normal form. He figured he had been long winded enough and stayed silent as he slowly chewed the still cooling meat of his meal, waiting for what this Solar would do. He had already been tested a lot, and if he managed to get enough food to feed a tribe of Dune People, Taredo would be more than impressed. He might actually have to rethink a lot about what preconceptions he had. If not, well, Taredo would make sure he didn't kill his erstwhile mate.

"I. Misunderstand. Nothing. About. This." The words were measured and sure, each one snapping out of the Exalt's teeth as though his tongue were a cracking whip. "The Guild's practice is abhorrent. That does not excuse your people's actions. Nor does their point of view. Your argument is hollow, and you know this in your heart." He spread his hands, "If one of your people kills another for a possession, is it all right because he did not think the victim his equal? Does that make it anything less than murder?" Radiant Kissing Son shook his head, "I will not let them take anyone." Then he took a breath, "You chide me, yet your own speech is heavy with an ethnocentric attitude. Your test is as set against me as it can be, but I will meet it." He looked at the shape shifter with determined eyes. "I have met you with courtesy, and mean to continue to do so. But this is not a game to me, Sunscorner. Nor are the lives of those slaves, or of your people. With all these tests and changing rules, I wonder, is it the same with you? Which of us is it that is prideful?" He bowed then, "I will go and seek to complete this latest test. I would apologize for any offense my words give, but that would be a lie, for I mean each one. Yet I regret if this has ended any possibility of alliance between us, for that would be a great loss. By your leave, then." The pale skinned northerner turned to the side, clambering up to the crest of the dune in whose shadow he had been resting. The lay of the land was key here. He knew far little of the desert than of his own northern lands, but he was a skilled hunter. And in this hunt, he must succeed. Part of his mind whispered to him, wondering if sacrificing a few unfortunates for the greater good was not wisdom. Radiant Kissing Son grimaced. What a terrible thought that was. And so he set out, a predator in a land not his own.

There was a light sting to the words received. Taredo watched Radiant Kissing Son walk off, the Lunar no longer tensed for what he thought might have been a very terse encounter. He found his hunger had waned and laid the beast he had been feasting on down as a part of the first amount to be offered to his tribe. It might not help Radiant Kissing Son too much, but Taredo felt compelled to help out this man. He took wing once more, the cool breeze of the night air ruffling the feathers of a great desert owl. Taredo knew that Radiant Kissing Son had yet to see this form, so it was more than enough to watch him surreptitiously from the sky. As much as he wished too, he couldn't abandon the Solar. Above the vast expanse of sand Luna looked on with a full face. The light of the complete moon made the sand almost dance, the death dealing heat quenched by the embrace of the Silver Lady. It would be cold enough that the Northern borne Solar would probably almost feel at home. Taredo watched how Radiant Kissing Son tracked, a dissonant feeling of superiority raging whenever he saw the man make a mistake. Yet, he realized that for someone who had never even been to the South before, this man was better than he should be. He was more than impressive, even with simple mistakes. Taredo interfered only once: When Radiant Kissing Son got too near a cactus snake and its home, the owl dove down to the ground, screeching loudly and grasped the venomous beast with his talons, yanking the now dead creature into the air. It was a common mistake, and a common tactic of the snake. The creature burrowed into cacti and waited for any prey up to the size of a large camel or even baby yeddim to come by and struck. It's poison liquefied the innards and the snake could manage the now malleable meal at it's leisure. Taredo scoffed as he dropped the snake to the desert floor after flying away. He told himself that if anyone was going to kill the nascent Solar, it would be him. Taredo was more than pleased with Radiant Kissing Son's attitude. He left his mate after the incident with the snake, flying off to meditate under the light of Luna. He sought a new form, one that would give him an edge in battle, against the Guild or Radiant Kissing Son. Something new. Something fierce. His eyes opened as he felt the tug. Yes, he would be ready the next day.

He watched the owl sail away without comment. Hardly a random act. It seemed that Sunscorner cared more about the outcome of this than he/she/it let on. After a moment, the young Exalt walked over to where the snake had nested, carefully edging in, checking warily. "Ah. The lidless box of golden treasure." He drew several eggs from the cactus, slipping them into a sling formed from his shirt. With the snake, assuming he could find the corpse, it wasn't a bad start. But he had a long way to go. A whole tribe to feed; a tribe whose numbers he had no knowledge of. He also didn't know how much time he had to work with. Tomorrow was a very vague term. He retrieved the cactus snake's corpse, taking care to use his belt knife to remove the head and the dangerous venom sacs. The night proved kind, or his searching more able than he anticipated, and by dawn he had managed to catch a pair of scrub hares to add to his menu. It was good fortune in the desert, and would last him alone for many days. But it was not enough. As the sun began to come over the horizon, it's light kissed his pale flesh and an idea sprang up in his mind. There was one kind of animal that was easier to trap in the desert. Though any of them would hardly be food animals...he had little choice. He knelt covering the eggs, the hares, and the snake with sand. Sunscorner's scent should keep all but the most depserate scavengers and predators away. Then he picked up the mauled and half eaten carcass the Lunar had left behind. After he was a few hundred feet from the campsite, he began to drag it behind him. So it was as the sun rose and began to beat down that Radiant Kissing Son lay on the baking sands, feebly moving. The carcass was by his side, the stink of it's meat and blood in the blazing sun rank and fetid. The perfect lure. He heard sand shift slightly, one of his eyes cracking open. Creeping ever closer was a pack of jackals, scavengers and cleaners of the desert. Good. He really didn't want to try buzzard, his other option. Radiant Kissing Son lay still. The large canines began to feed on the carcass, tearing it apart, but he did not move. Then they circled him, growling, sniffing, but he did not move. They darted in close and then away, testing, but he did not move. One crept up close and sniffed, licked his arm, then bit. The powerful teeth barely marked the skin, and still he did not move. The creatures moved in, convinced at last. In an explosion of blows, sand, yelps, and flaring Essence, he moved. The jackals flew up into the air, a snap kick knocking one out of its arc as it broke the animal's neck. The rest landed, shaking themselves. Radiant Kissing Son wasted no time, appearing before one just as it rose to its feet. His fist of iron crushed its skull, the thing flopping down into the sand. He felt a third darting at his calves from behind, teeth intent to hamstring this resistant meal. Radiant Kissing Son leaped up, letting the jackal rush under him. His hands came down on either side of its neck as it did so, a tearing crack answering the strikes. A fourth leaped, snarling. He turned on his heel and ducked beneath it, grabbing its backlegs and swinging the hunter down onto it's back in the sand, his heel crushing its throat a moment later. He relaxed, the rest of the pack had fled, scurrying away over the dunes howling out their fear. Radiant Kissing Son nodded with satisfaction. Four was acceptable, he'd wanted five, but this would have to do. On his forehead burned a solid disk of golden energy, the mark of his Caste. He spread his arms out, his face turning up to the sun, "For your bounty, I thank you. May it be enough." His knife sung free of it's scabbard as he knelt beside the bodies. Dress and skin. It would take time, but even if it had not, he had the sense that his hunt was at an end. What he had would either be enough or it would not. Now he could only prepare for whatever end came of this.

Taredo came during the sun lit time this day, landing and taking the form of his Southern woman once more, "I see. This seems like it should be fit for my tribe. I am not sure about the slaves you wish me to help you free though, Sun Child." He touched the large dogs and shrugged, "Unless they would be okay with the odds and ends of these animals. Of course, we could always just take down one of the animals that leads the caravans." He walked over and placed a hand on Radiant Kissing Son's shoulder and bowed his head, "You have passed my tests, Sun Child. You have my might for you when you wish to free these slaves today. We shall be victorious." He shimmered lightly, finally taking his true form. He stood a good six feet and four inches tall and his skin was white as chalk or the very face of the moon. His hair reached down to his shoulders in most places and carried a few black feathers braided into the white strands. His arms and legs were covered in silver tattoos that still managed to stand out on the parchment-like skin and seemed to still look like they would be movable if you just traced a finger across them. The only oddity on him was his eyes, both of them completely sapphire blue as if his eyes had been replaced with the gems themselves. "Here, let me seal the pact with you." It wasn't a request, or an offer. Taredo brought Radiant Kissing Son close and kissed him hard, plunging his tongue into the other's mouth and dragged out the tongue of his Solar Mate. With a quick bite Taredo pierced both skins and mixed their blood together with the kiss. There was a small hint that Taredo enjoyed this more than just a pact sealing, yet he still fiercely held Radiant Kissing Son close. There was also no way he would admit that this was anything more than an agreement between two Chosen, not even to himself. As the kiss ended Taredo licked off a few traces of blood from Radiant Kissing Son's mouth as he shifted back into the female form to escape the burning rays of the Unconquered Sun. "There we go. You have my blood mixed in you, I have yours with me. We are now bonded. You SHOULD be safe in my tribe, but I would stick close to me just in case." He gave a light smirk and sat down amongst the carcasses, pulling out a bone knife as he slit the stomach of one of the canids and began to gut it, placing all the meat in a position for it to cook in the sun. "I think this will be something of a treat for my tribesmen. Since I got here early enough I should be able have some of this meat cook. That may also work for some of the slaves. I doubt they are used to, or even capable, of eating raw meat." It seemed that with all these "tests" passed that Taredo wasn't nearly as much of a bastard as he had passed himself off as. He was cleaning and scouring the corpses for useful materials in ways that would most likely seem similar to the Northern Solar. "Tell me when they start to come. I'll work these hides into something for the new people to wear. Otherwise I fear the slave clothing will fall apart and leave them open to the elements. Tch, so weak in some ways." Taredo would busy himself with the work, cleaning out certain parts of the animals and scraping every last bit of fat and tissue from the skins as he got them ready. After he placed them out to dry he started going for the smaller animals, removing unusable bones yet keeping the venom glands of the snake. The entire little ritual would be at least informative, if not necessary if Radiant Kissing Son were to live with these people. It was something no human had ever been privy to seeing before...and surviving at least.

"No," Ganondorf said with a twisted, snarling smirk, his face half furious and half tinged with amusement, "I don't want anything. Except power. Control. Rulership." His strong, large hand gripped tighter on the King of Hyrule's throat, holding the middle-aged man aloft in the throne room as the screams from adjacent hallways continued on. "You won't... you... y-y... get awa-" he sputtered out with a great deal of effort, blood stinging and blinding the King's right eye shut, glaring at the Gerudo through his quivering left. "I already have." Crick. Fhoomph. And like that the King's neck was snapped, his body being released from Ganondorf's grip to fall warm, yet lifeless upon the red carpeted floor. It had happened so quickly, the seven foot warrior-mage of the Gerudo tribe summoning up skeletal warriors from the very ground outside the city, moblins riding upon armored boars coming in from a distance, waltzing through the open gates to attack in broad daylight. The fools hadn't seen a thing coming. The city had been surrounded in five minutes and sacked in ten. In under fifteen they'd breached the castle, and in twenty the throne room itself. Summoned demons roamed through the hallways now, slaying any remnants of the castle's forces who were foolish enough to reveal themselves. It was likely they thought themselves still capable of mounting a defense. Cute. It was equally likely that many still didn't know what was happening, it'd all been so fast. Upon bursting into the throne room, a dozen skeletal warriors in tow, eye sockets hollow and bones jittering together with every step, Ganondorf had seized the Queen and thrown her out a window in seconds. No questions had been asked. No demands had been made. The few guards in the throne room had quickly been surrounded and killed by the undead knights and the Queen was thrown several stories to her death, an example quick and heavy in cost. The King had been soon to follow, laying now lifeless at the dark, armored Lord's feet. Ganondorf looked down at the King, smiling, snickering, the light of a beautiful Spring afternoon shining through numerous windows, coupled with a calming, gentle breeze. It had been such a perfect day. Who would have expected this? "Find me Zelda," he called out to his servants, the hunched-over skeletons having stood there, awaiting command after slaying Hyrule's final line of defenders. Eight men lay about the throne room in intimidating piles of iron, yet disheartening puddles of crimson. "Find me the Princess. Alive. ...Byanymeans."

It is said that my people are descendants of the gods; that our ears are delicate and long so that we may hear the softest whispers of the spirit world, and hear the pleas of nature. Our race is the most in tuned with the world around us...Though at times, we forget this.. We are a peaceful people, and my family has strived to maintain peace for many generations. The Hylian Royal family contains the strongest bloodline of all of our people...Our sovereignty is ordained by our pure bloodline that is directly traced to the goddesses of the landBut no such divinity spared us the horrific events which devastated our land after the Hyrulean Civil War. My father believed our lands troubles to be over after my birth..That in the midst of such tragedy, I was a gift of reassurance from our ancestors, that Hyrule had not been forgotten As I sit, cowering inside the grand library behind the statue of a great warrior whose name I could never recall, imprisoned in my own Castle, staring out at the mockingly calm skyline as the sounds of screams and clashing weapons ring in my earsI realize, that I am a failure to my predecessors. I had seen this war comingMy fathers pride deafened him, and he would not head my warnings though it had been he himself who declared my gifts of foresight a blessing from Nayru I saw this war comingI knewI saw the shadows seep through the walls of the castle the moment he stepped through the gatesI saw the darkness retreat, almost bowing to himI knew his face the moment he arrived, and yet my tongue had swollen within my mouth, preventing an outburst that might have saved my mothermy fathermy Kingdom. Was I destined to fall then?..Is there truly such a thing, as destiny? ~ The young fair Princess of Hyrule could feel her heart frantically beating beneath her modest breast. She had wedged herself behind one of the statues of a Hylian hero, whom stood before two conjoining bookshelves that had barely provided enough room for even the lean Zelda to slip behind and between. She crouched, trembling between the wooden shelves and the marble platform, her hands over her eyes as she prayedPrayed for someone, anyone to come and save her, while quietly cursing herself for being unable to defend herself.. Her magic was unstable..and her emotions were clearly clouding her judgment, but could one really blame her? Not ten minutes before, she had seen her mothers body whisk past the window she had been reading beside, crashing in a spray of blood in the gardens belowZelda had screamed, dropping her book immediately and had almost run into the hall, when the sounds of creaking bones alerted her to the presence of the Dark Wizards minions..Frantically, she had decided a hiding place..and hoped she could come up with something, before she was found. Six days after her sixteenth birthday..A beautiful spring day, forever tainted in Hyrules history..A page that would be stained with blood and tears, should history even exist after this assault.. The young Princess held herself tightly, her white elbow length gloves covering her mouth to still her frantic breathing..She wore an elegant white gown that day, with a deep pink bodice and golden embroideries of Hylian symbols to ornament the beautiful dress. Her soft blonde locks left free, cascading down her mid back, with the exception of two strands that were braided with gold and jewels as was tradition for the women of the Royal family.Such a tragic sight, such a beautiful noble choking back tears as her castle was seized by such a man as Ganondorf.. Her right hand burnedterribly, to the point where she gasped aloud. The door then open, as if on command of her distress and Zelda frozeShe felt her ears twitching as she peeked out from between the statues legsHer crystalline eyes widening as she saw monstrous creatures searching beneath chairs and behind shelves..As they advanced the room, Zelda spotted the door had been left openShe was no match for them physically..and perhaps not even magically, though their capabilities were unknown to herBiting her lip slowly, Zelda picked up the skirts of her gown and slowly stood while the creatures backs were turnedMaking her way lightly, softly..slowlyacross the carpeted floor and towards the open door. Backing into the hall, the Princess suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as a hot breath poured down upon her. She felt her skin crawl, as what felt like a glob of saliva dripped upon her shoulders..The shadow of the Moblin was all she had seen as she turnedWithout even time to scream, a sudden blow came to her head, and Zelda found her world suddenly fading into shadows.

"And where doyouthink she is?" Ganondorf asked boredly, sitting on Hyrule's mighty, majestic gilded throne as if he owned it, a once-dream that had now borne its fruit. "P-please! I-I, I don't know anyth-" the middle-aged Hylian woman choked out between sobs. The only response the armored form could muster was a sigh, one elbow leaning heavily upon an armrest of the throne, his jaw set against his palm. "Fine then. She doesn't know anything either. ...Eighth? Ninth? Kill her too." "N-no, wait!!" she screamed, struggling against the intimidating form of the moblin holding her, a half-man, half-boar creature of dominating girth. "The pond!" she practically shrieked out, jerking with all her fear and all her adrenaline to get free of the moblin's grasp. She managed, albeit barely, and due well to the moblin's own actions of grabbing his weapon instead of holding her firm. Ganondorf's servant raised a pair of black, beady eyes to his lord, crossbow in hand, receiving only a bored, dissatisfied nod in return. "Princess Zelda often spends her afternoons at the pond outs-" thoop It was brisk, quick, the speed at which the crossbow bolt traveled straight to the woman's back, dropping her to a quivering mass upon the once-gorgeous marble floor. That floor was nearing two dozen bodies at this point, two dozen separate puddles of blood beneath their respective corpses. Ganondorf sighed. In a moment that boredom shifted, shifted to anger in the form of an armored fist slamming down on the other armrest of the elaborately decorated Hylian throne. "How many now?! And we still haven't found her?! I've ordered you fools to search everywhere! We've even gone through her personal chef, her personal equestrian trainer, her personal tutor, her... her, what was that now? Her maid?" The Gerudo man sneered. "I grew up in a desert...Thisis disgusting! And yet none of the fools have led us to her!" None of his servants voiced any response. Half were made of bone and magic, crafted without the ability to speak, and the others were a race of beast-men, speaking mainly in a variety of snorts and grunts. Both knew obedience, though. And both knew when to simply listen, heads bowed low like a dog preparing to be stricken. "Eight now! Nine?! ...Everyone!" he continued to shout. "We'll kill every last person in the city if that's what it takes to...excellent." Ganondorf's face twisted to a wicked grin when he saw it. Three returned through the large, ornate double doors, a moblin and two skeletons, the former carrying a lithe, pale-skinned girl slung over a shoulder like a lifeless hunk of meat. "Excellent," he repeated with a grin, standing, his eyes centering on a young woman whom he did not know, yet knew all the same. That beauty, the kind of which tales had reached even his people. The youth. The manner of her dress. "Put her down." thud "...PUT. HER. DOWN. NOT DROP HER, YOU STUPID FUCKING-" In an explosion that seemingly came from nowhere, in a burst of magic summoned out of thin air, a wave of flames cascaded across the chest and face of the hefty moblin guard. The beast shrieked, jumping back in response, falling over himself, but by the time it had happened it was simply that; happened, already done. He was on fire, brought about by Ganondorf's rage, the flames feeding on his armor and eating at his skin. The other servants simply watched on, obedient dogs as they were, as the moblin guard fought to his feet, tumbled back against the doors, and flailed and squealed back into the adjacent grand marble hallway. The creature was out of sight, visually, but his high-pitched primal shrieks were unsettling. The dark man cared not, however, his twitching gaze turning instead to the fallen princess. What an imbecile... he brings her all the way here and then just drops her? And on her head, no less! If anyone was to damage his new toy, and damaged goods Zelda soon be, for multiple reasons, it would be by his hand, or by his order! "Get her up!" he snarled over to a nearby skeleton, casting a furious glance that could, and had, made those of flesh and blood quiver and bate their breath. "Smelling salts! A pitcher of cold water! Hot oil! I don't care how, simply get her up!! I've... hm... heheh... I've waited just too long for this." His fingers gripped tight into their respective gloves. "This wench is a princess no more. And she has crimes,sinsshe must atone for... heh... mm..."

Zelda. Fair Princess Daughter of Destiny Hear and abide by the lessons of the past This plague has fallen upon Hyrule, many times beforeYou must wait for the Hero of Time to arise, and banish this shadow Just as has been done in the past by those who bear his name and title...And you, Zelda, must follow in the footsteps of your forbearers But this incarnation, this dark Prince of the desert, manifests differently than those of long ago. He is strongermore cunningmore vicious He brings with a darkness which will only cease with the arrival of the Hero of Time You will be but a feathers weight against the mountain of his power You are incapable of stopping himNo blessings can we bestow upon youTo stop this evil beast.. You must prevail Zelda.. Do not let him corrupt what has remained pure since the dawn of ages. Your suffering will be great But we are with you... Thisis yourfate.... Zelda awoke with a start to a large vase of water, and the flowers it had been holding, being dumped over her head. Her elaborate gown now soaked, fitting her even tighter than before, and the chilled water that had been keeping the Hylian lilies fresh, now made her pert nipples all the more noticeable beneath the thin silkWiping flower petals from her face, Zelda stood, wobbling slightly, as she felt a large throbbing on the back of her head. Her crystalline eyes were wide as she looked to the bodies strewn across the floor Bodies once so filled with lifeMen...women...whom had sworn to give their lives for her, and now hadTheir crimson blood staining the very floors on which they knelt to take such an oath. Her fathers lifeless figure, heaped beneath his cloak beside his throne, tossed aside like a peasant. This was disgraceful Zelda felt bile rising in her throat. Her already fair complexion, paling at the sight of so much destruction. Her eyes then froze, towering over her, engulfing her in his shadowWas Ganondorf himself.The man whose name fell heavy upon her tongue.Whose very presence made her feel insatiably weak The young noble stood as regally as she could, even daring to lift her chin in defiance as she took a step backwardspromptly finding the curved edge of a skeletons sword against her back. Narrowing her eyes slightly, Zelda swallowed slightly, taking in a soft breath, What is you want with me The words escaped her, but they both knew why he had kept her livingAt least vaguely. It was a question that had escaped the soft lips of the Princesses before her, but none would know the fate that this Zeldayoungest of them all, and perhaps strongest of them all, would faceand what connotation the word want would truly have, in the mind of the darkest of menNo prison of pink walls would confine her, no innocent slumber or dark towers to await her rescue after years of being only verbally tormented by her captor No Not at all

No. Not at all. "You look upon me now... eyes that know who I am, or at the very least understand what's happening around you," the seven foot man spoke to her with a wickedly twisting sneer, "and you woulddaretostand?!" The back of an armored palm swung, striking the young elf across the face, the desert man's hand large in proportion with the rest of his body. "You little twat," he continued, grabbing the Princess' hair, and with a firm tug Ganondorf physically forced her weaker form to a knee. There came a brief moment of pause, brief, before he continued the abuse by pulling her hair back slightly more, forcing Zelda to look straight up at him as he gathered a mouthful of saliva, spitting down upon her beautifully flawless, porcelain face. "I had plans for you cemented in my mind, up until this morning," he continued after a few seconds, glaring down at the spoiled little bitch, "plans that involved you dead along with your parents. Oh, it was to be beautiful... Your body stripped of your clothes, all semblances of royalty and dignity with it, and you were to be displayed upon a pike, impaled, marched around the city for all to see. You see, you were to be a frightening pinnacle of my cruelty - your parents, these guards, this kingdom... you were to have been the period at the end of that very defining sentence." With a twist of his wrist Ganondorf flung the young Zelda aside, turning from her then, footsteps beginning a slow stride through the bodies littering the room. "I had planned everything. The day we would attack. The manner in which we would assault each corridor of the castle, each back alley of the town, studying plans and layouts for months... And for years before that, two decades now, longer than you've likely even beenalive,I have sacrificed everything to attain the power I now wield. The strength, dear girl, to avenge a very definite wrong. Your treatment of my people." His steps continued through the scattered bodies, stepping to the side of one and between two others, a long, gorgeous crimson and black cloak wafting in his wake. "The Gerudo...Desert people." A few more steps brought him to a window, the same the Queen had been tossed from only a short while before. Ganondorf stared out as he spoke, surveying his malevolent troops as they patrolled an inner courtyard. "Do you know why we're called that? Do you know why welivein the desert, little Zelda? ...Because you put us there! You. Your people. Hylians. The 'chosen' race! ...Bullshit! If might makes right, then I couldn't be any more correct in slaying your parents like the animals they were! Your ancestors banished my people to the desert generations ago in fear of our strength! They were greedy, lusting to control all. The only reason they didn't wipe my race out was because they couldn't; we're a warrior people, you see. They may have overtaken us, outnumbered us, but the losses would have been too grave. And so they herded my ancestors up like animals and banished them to the desert. The few who have wandered back to Hyrule since then, trying to integrate theirselves with your people, have been few and far between. For me... I grew up in the desert, you see. A barren, desolate wasteland." His armored palms gripped into themselves tightly. "A place where anger is nurtured just as naturally as anything else. It's funny... The first time I even set eyes upon the lush, gorgeous land of Hyrule was only a few years ago. I can see why your royal ancestors would want it all for themselves." "But they're dead now," he continued, turning from the window and walking to the throne, past and through more bodies at every step, "your parents included. As you would have been by now, had I not decided I wanted to enjoy this moment instead. ...Oh, don't get too secure, dearPrincess.You're still very likely to die, depending on your actions right now." Ganondorf turned when he reached the throne, the cloak whirling with a great flourish to one side. He sat, leaning back, taking his time to get comfortable and grin a smug grin. "Crawl to me. On your knees. On your hands. Strip yourself bare, little Zelda. Every shred of clothing. Every gold clasp in your hair, every anything - bare, completely. Then crawl to me, past your fallen guards, on this lovely red carpet where so many have paid their tribute to your family before. Crawl through Daddy's blood. Crawl to the spot where you've watched others kneel and pay tribute countless times before, and it's there I want you on your knees, looking up to me with sincere eyes - it'sthereI want to hear your apology, from your ancestors to mine! ...And if you can't be sincere? Or if you find this truth too hard for your prim and proper lifestyle to accept, or you simply won't lower yourself to such a thing? Then don't forget what I said before, about initially just planning to kill you, parading you around while skewered on a spear."

The prideful noble had managed to hold back her shreik as she was slapped so firmlyShe could feel the blood rushing to her faceno doubt a mark would rise upon that perfect flesh soon. However, as his hand twisted within her hair, the sound which escaped her lips was near-equal to a Goddess weep! Zeldas lean young figure visibly trembled as the roots of her beautiful blonde hair were yanked so harshly...Treatment that clearly, the young noble was not accustomed to No harsh desert sun beat down upon her browHer delicate skin no doubt would scratch so easily against the Gerudo sands, and tremble beneath the harsh windsNo, it was clear that Zelda had been quite secure in her pampered posh, palace life Though the way her eyes refused to tremble as she stared into the face of evil incarnateThere was strength there, no doubtA strength hardened by the will of her ancestors, and the blessings of the Goddess themselves Those three sacred deities, who had lost control of the strings of fate it seemedand though Zeldas hand still burned beneath her glove, and her ears still tingled with their whispersThe blessed sisters could no longer intervene..Like those innocents of Hyrule, all they could do was watchThe Sacred Realm could only find the Hero of TimeThey could not make him answer to his fateful calling any sooner than he chose Even now, he seemed far too late Her hands freed still, Zelda indignantly wiped the glob of spit from her cheek as she listened to his repulsive visionsHer ears twitched slightly, and truly it took all of her will not to vomit right upon the mans shoes, which truly would not have gone over wellNausea subside, perhaps out of shock, as she once again was tossed asideSmashing into the wall with such force that the youths shoulder no doubt was on the verge of dislocation She clutched her shoulder, the wind knocked out of her as she tried to gather herselfShe could taste the metallic, yet sweet flavor of bloodHer free hand moving up to delicately wipe upon the split on her lip from where she had bit down upon knocking against the wallHer gloved fingers stained with drops of blood now, Zelda swallowed deeply She was a Hylian! She could not weep and suffer before this man! Even at her tender ageSo serenely in the midst of maidenhoodThough her body was screaming in agony, having never experienced such pain in her life.No, she was a PrincessThe Princess of Hyrule! She could not show this cruel dark wizard any impact of his powerHer eyes, glaring definitely throughout Ganondorfs speechThough there was a twinge of truth that splintered its way into her heart, she dare not allow it to affect hernot now.. With her weight against the wall, Zelda stood slowlytrembling, aching everywhere as she tried to swallow the bile rising in her throat. As the dark lord ascended the throne, leaning back in ease as if it had been his all along, Zelda rose her chin boldlyHer lips quivering slightly, a bit of blood trickling down her chin as she quietly looked to the bodies strewn across the floor. Apologize She whispered, the words carrying across the throne room as if she had spoken in normal toneHer voice gentle, yet almost bemusedDrawing in her lips slightly for a moment, as she regained the best posture she could manageStill clutching her right shoulder as she stoodHer lips now tinted red from her own blood, a heavy, trembled breath escaped her as she stepped forward..Wanting to advance the throne, but only making it as far enough to reach one of the statue that lined the sides of the red carpet which led to the three thronesGrasping the ankle of that same Hero from her library, Zelda glared from beneath thick lashes towards the Gerudo King.. I will do no such thing

"..." Ganondorf stared her down. His face became very serious, very quickly, as he leaned forward in his new throne to narrow his eyes at the young elven royalty. "..." And then he burst into a laugh, deep and hearty, stretching out and leaning back against the throne. Gloved hands came together several times in a clap, a cheer for her, quite obviously amused. "Excellent, excellent. You have a spine! I had hoped for this, though I didn't think such a spoiled rotten little twat could possess such... mm, what's the word?Balls....It seems my decision to let you live, for now, was a fruitful one. Breaking you is going to be so much goddamn fun! ...Guards!" Ganondorf's eyes went beyond Zelda, past her and to the soldiers behind her, armored moblins guarding the door of the throne room. His back straightened as he spoke out her sentence, nonchalant, as if it were nothing more than trifle, "Remove her clothes. From this moment on she is no longer a Princess, but simply Zelda, a commoner - abeggar, a stupid little urchin with not a ruby to her name. And I'll have her appearance reflect it. Her clothes. Her-... No. No, wait." Placing his palms on the armrests, Ganondorf pushed himself to a stand, coming to his full, intimidating height, long cloak flowing down to armored calves. His chin tipped downed. His eyes narrowed, as narrow as the wry grin etched and stretching across an evil face. "Someone's a defiant bitch, isn't she," he asked, whipping his arms out and to his sides. Raising them chest-high, the dark lord's fingers spread and begin to glow a faint purple color, purple silhouetted in red. "Maybe you don't believe me capable," he continued, the slain bodies of the room's over a dozen Hylian soldiers beginning to shake. The purple and red continued down from his fingers to encompass all of Ganondorf's palms, with a similar, much larger ring of magical energy forming around his feet. Bodies shook. A tense, unsettling feeling filled the air, and in a show of blood and nightmares the backs of Zelda's once-loyal guards ripped open, then slain men's skeletons rising, freeing themselves of their mortal bodies. One after another, in a gruesome, sickening display. Clothes were torn. Armored breastplates were destroyed in a show of force as the skeletons rose, birthing from fleshly bodies, blood dripping from their bones. Ganondorf cackled amidst his horrid display of power, summoning Hyrule's own guards to serve him in death, becoming loyal to a cause each gave their lives against. Within moments of coming into existance each skeleton, their bones cricking and snapping with each movement, took up the sword and shield, spear and helm of their once-bodies. But perhaps the most gruesome sight was the ex-King himself, Zelda's own father, having his skeleton rise from his still-warm body right before his little girl's eyes. Such was a display of how heartless Ganondorf could be. Such was a display of his dark, twisted magic. "Now," Ganondorf plainly spoke, as if it were nothing, eyes upon Zelda once more, his wicked grin wide as day, "strip her, my minions, of any recognition of a Princess. Her clothes. Her jewelry. Undo her hair, make it simple, like some boring, common bitch. And then you're going to take her dignity." Ganondorf retook his seat at the throne, leaning against the gilded chair's high back. "Take her to the prison below the castle, but not directly, not immediately - the long way, perhaps? ...It rained last night, didn't it? Pretty hard, if I recall. Why not take little Zelda out for a walk in the courtyard? A walk in the mud? Chase her with arrows, let the boars nip at her heels... Once you're bored of playing with her then it's down to the cellar, to the castle's jail cells. You're likely to come across a few deviants down there, I'm sure, gentlemen and ladies she watched her daddy sentence there for a long time... I think that Zelda, being the last of her bloodline, would beperfectto act as a representative for their anger. Each and every one. Make sure you stop at every cell. If they'd like to smack her around for awhile they're welcome to. Oh, and release them too, of course, compliments of their new King. And when that's all done? I want you to shove her in the smallest, most horrid cell you can find. And that's it. Leave her there, to fucking rot." He took in a slow, deep breath, smiling all the wile. Just as slow was the exhale. A single hand raised, fingers moving in a lazy gesture, "Go."

His sudden laughter more than visibly startled the young Princess. The very sound chilled herthat spine he was so amused to find she had, stiffened as she watched him applaud as if she had provided some sort of lofty entertainment That deep and echoing sound would ring within her ears during her darkest hours no doubtAnd the scene now playing before her, would be etched into the core of her nightmares for the rest of time. Though he stood far from her, she felt the hotness of his breath upon the back of her neckThat bile in her throat rising to the point where she could almost not contain herselfA gloved hand franticly pushed over her pretty lips, her throat burning from the acidic tasteUnsteadily, almost tripping over the length of her gown, she moved back against the wallEyes wide and trembling as she watched the flesh of her guards split...The sound of freshly awakened bones sending a jolt to her already uneasy stomach.. In the safety of her library, on the pages of some old novelshe had only read of such horrors.. That regal stubbornness melted entirely, at the sight of her fathers corpse starting to move once againHis spine protruding from his backhis bones rising, covered in blood and other fluids, leaving behind the shell of flesh and warmth that she had knownAnd as his empty sockets turned towards her..She could still see his eyes in the darkness The young Princess turned a ghostly pale, her thoughts all becoming fuzzy as she fought off the dizzy spells that often plagued Princesses of her age..Nearly succumbing to the numbing feeling washing over her bodyZelda immediately awoke from her spell at the feel of boney fingers clutching at her clothing. She shrieked, pulling away as the risen skeletons came towards her with hands outstretched..They pulled at her dress, causing that thin silk fabric to tear as if it were nothingAs she struggled amidst their grabbing, her jeweled necklaces were broken, scattering gold and precious jewels onto the floor amongst shreds of silk and laceExposing her lily white skin, her young blossoming figure, barely on the brink of womanhood As they frantically sought to carry out the Dark Lords commands, they pulled at her hair, ripping strands out along with the jewels that had been braided into those pretty blonde locksTears streaming down her face, Zelda could barely protestThe feel of the bones against her flesh, looking into the empty sockets where eyes she had known once lingeredAll was too overwhelmingA living nightmare. That numbness that sought to make her faint, had seeped its way into her heart... This... All of this...was so terrifying to the young noble, that it seemed that her fear had shut down...She did not scream, nor cry out...Nor did she struggle against those bony claws..The lithe young high born only flinched, whimpering slightly as she kept her eyes closed as tightly as she could until the cold air of the throne room carressed over her skin... With gloves and white thigh length stockings still in tact, hair a mess, Zelda kept her hands over her young shapen breasts, though her long tresses covered them well already, and one to cover those soft golden curls between her thighs. Though petrified clearly, lips quivering as tears still lingered within those pretty sky blue eyesZelda moved her eyes towards the throne, where that usurping bastard sat grinning like a mad cat A shove came to her shoulder as she was pushed towards the door, the cluster of skeletons and moblins with grunts and clicks perhaps of excitement..They did not understand the humiliation which was taking placeThe promise of a chase was enough to interest the base instincts which they followed... The Princess of Hyrule rose her chin once again, turning with an elegant grace, her long hair sweeping much like his cloak had...She could not face this darkness in fear...or it would consume her so rapidly she would not have a chance to defend herself... But terror clung to the aching heart of Zelda, the laughter of her captor still bellowing in her ears...

Such wonderful amusement! Ganondorf sat upon the newly claimed throne with excitement wide upon his face, deep within his eyes, watching the now-commoner Zelda stripped and shamed within the very home she grew up in. Listening to her whimpers. Savoring her tears. But it wasn't her being forced to bare all that excited him, at least not in the sense it would most. She was lovely, gorgeous even, Ganondorf could not miss her flawless skin or her golden strands in his excitement, nor the young, firm breasts or the patch of womanhood curling outward from the apex of her thighs. These were visions that he would recall later, another time, visions that he had every right to care only for now, but later. No, now he savored instead Zelda's humiliation, her degrading, her transforming from a life of luxury to the life of a peasant. No, worse - a prisoner. His bellowing laughter was still able to be heard as the guards pulled her through the hallways, echoing, fading, yet ever-present. Whether she kept up of her own will or had to be dragged along the floor was up to her, Zelda's beautiful long hair firmly in the grip of a moblin captor. Truly she was light enough compared to the large, muscled beastman, and truly he cared little enough that such a thing wasn't hard to imagine, especially so with what was to come next. Boars. Huge, meaty boars, as big as any horse and twice as wide. Such were the chosen mounts of Ganondorf's forces, they not tamed so much as saddled and taught to heel. Four stood about in the courtyard out Hyrule Castle's main doors and down its marble steps, their jowls coated in saliva, their tusks sharp and chipped. It was here Zelda's insistent escorts separated, some pulling her by the hair over to these beasts, one retrieving something from the furthest boar's saddle, and another disappearing around a corner entirely. Caring little for any protest she may have been giving, and finally talking to one another now in a tone seemingly jovial, the moblins leaned down to take hold of Zelda's legs now in addition to her hair. What the one retrieved from a saddle turned out to be rope, a rope he'd went ahead and tied one end firmly around the creature. The other was brought over to the Hylian who would soon find it around her ankles and calves. What happened then didn't take much imagination, but often times the simple things were the most enjoyable. The moblin who had disappeared for a minute returned from around a bend with several torches in hand, giving one to each of his fellow guards. The jovial tones increased. And all of a sudden, in an explosion, in a bolt from the sky they all ran to boars, grunting, shouting, waving the hot flames at the boars' backends. In turn they shrieked, squealing, and started off in a furious run. For three of the boars it was a matter of simply getting away. For the fourth, when he took off Zelda was pulled by the rope with him, and her lily white skin was instantly being pulled through bushes, across stone walkways, back and forth past the fountain, and through numerous large pools of mud. Ganondorf was laughing still, a low chuckle with arms folded across his chest, watching through a window high in the castle. He watched as the moblins chased the boars around the courtyard, waving their torches, sending the beasts squealing and running again and again. Ruling a kingdom could wait. This moment was priceless.

Regality was not a matter of fine silks and precious jewelsAnyone could acquire wealth, but very few could maintain a noble air about them when stripped of absolutely everything Zelda, fair Princess of Hyrule, was one of those few. As they walked, the creatures scraped off the elegant gloves and stockings that had given any sort of protection to the girl. Though she wore less than the Great Fairys who lingered within their sacred grottos across the lands, though not one jewel was left in her hair nor any decoration that might have formally revealed her class, she walked with her chin raised, in as graceful a manner as one could when being led by the hair by a brutish beast, whose squeals brought forth sprays of thick saliva that dripped down upon the Princess lithe form.. Little use would be found in protesting..In truth, the maniacal laughter of that madman still rung in Zeldas ears, numbing her with a fear she would never admit aloudThe courtyard welcomed her with an icy breeze, far too cold for the seasonPerhaps nature herself had been taken aback by the sight of the captive Princess. The boars reekedA putrid odor that she could not place or associate to anything else in her lifeThe most revolting stench of rotten flesh and wasteZeldas face contorted slightly as she fought desperately to choke back the bile searing in her throat. Her focus had so entirely been upon not vomiting, that she had not noticed the hulking Moblins behind her, and as she gasped aloud when one of their thick hands wrapped around her legs, she swallowed the acidic sick, sending her stomach into knotsHer vision blurring for a moment, though fainting would not have spared the fair Hylian from the creatures plans.. With the rope digging into her flesh, Zelda twisted against her restraints, though naturally the Boar did not budgeIt was only by spook of a thunderous spark in the sky, and the sudden heat of torches being waved about, that the boar bolted off, sending sweet Zelda, who weigh as much as a feather in compression to the creatures, onto her side in the wet grassThat porcelain skin soon broke and tore against the paved courtyard paths, thorns from the Princess favorite roses dug into her skin, gashing her breasts, catching within her hairThe mud caked upon her , thick and smelling as sweet as the boars that barreled through the puddles, splashing thick globs of muck into once golden waves When the boar exhausted himself, laying down with raspy heaves in the middle of one of the thicker mud puddles, the sky began to weepA light misty rain at first, though the Sun still shone bright at its startBut soon the Sun seemed to become ashamed, and hid himself behind the dark clouds that had started to cover the sky Zelda, whose eyes had been closed the entirety of this barbaric display, was tangled up within the ropes, one leg twisted over the other, her arms in near-knots..her shoulder surely on the verge of dislocation nowHer tears had parted rivers in the mud upon her cheeksBarely a patch of white or gold was left to seeAll hidden beneath open bleeding sores, or muddy clumps of dirt and grass. The moblins, their torches doused, lurched Zelda from the puddle, leaving her tangled within the ropes as they themselves began to drag her towards the dungeon gatesWhatever possessed them to allow her to stand rather than tossing her down the stone staircase, was beyond Zelda at that momentHer thoughts had turned to frantic repetition of prayersPrayers which cut off in mid sentence, to repeat themselves, start in different places entirely I am ZeldaPrincess of HyruleBlessed by the Goddesses of CreationI am of WisdomOf GraceOf LightI am ZeldaPrincess of Hyrule.Blessed..I am Zelda.Princess.Zelda..I am..Light.. Skeletal warriors had already reached the prisons, and were unlocking the cells of Hyrules most ruthless criminalsSome remained in their open cells as Zelda was brought pastTheir eyes wide and distant..Perhaps in shock themselves at the state of the former Princess. Some scoffed openly, jeering remarks about revenge and hail to the new kingHurls of spit and laughter arose from the more bold, but even they were taken aback by the sight before them Solitary confinementA lone cell at the center of the dungeonOne window, or more appropriately, a small place where a brick in the wall was missing, and bars were placed over just in case.One doorThis was where the moblins pushed her former Highness in, tripping her over the restraints she still woreThe cell consisted of nothing more than a bare cot..some straw sprinkled across the top of the stone floor, a stool and a bucket Nothing more, nothing less As the heavy door was bolted behind her, Zelda lay aching..trembling, upon the cold floor of the palace dungeon. Her body stinging from the open wounds, throbbing from the budding bruises and near broken bonesA small ray of sunlight broke free from the clouds, beaming down through that little space in the wallIlluminating the fallen Princess, as she lay quivering upon the floor, stubbornly still, attempting to fight off her inevitable sobs of despair

Ganondorf clapped. And he laughed. "Splendid, splendid," he bemused, standing in the throne room still, looking on from the high slitted windows. He had watched the whole spectacle, the nude elf being dragged across unforgiving stone that no doubt scraped against her skin, and no doubt dislocated something whenever her high speeds took her crashing into the stone fountain at the courtyard's center. He watched her through thorn bushes, through the mud, he watched her again and again coming near close to one of the other boars caving in her pretty little skull as it quaked by, running from another Moblin's flame. And he watched as the most dangerous in Hyrule were set free, darting for the courtyard's exit. "Kill them," he said simply, armored hands reaching back to clasp behind him. The order was simple, and expected to be carried out swift and in full. "Their freedom was granted for Zelda, a show that I wanted her to see. And now that she thinks such women and men are running free, take some soldiers to hunt them down, set arrows in their backs before they ever make it to the town." His hands unclasped. Ganondorf thrust one to the side in an outward wave, a signal that it was to be carried out, and with it the remaining skeletal fiends exited the room in a great sound of rattling bones and clanking armor to set upon their task. "Horrible things will befall these people... Overdue, deserved things, don't you worry little girl," he continued in a whisper to himself. "But they will be things ofmydoing, by sources ofmycontrol. Not anarchy, no. Revenge." Turning now, Ganondorf left the throne room, his new seat of power, to stride through the halls of the castle. In every hallway tapestries were torn or burned, lengths of carpet were stained with blood, and bodies lay littered as if the debris after some great storm. Two of his loyal minions remained at every end of a hallway, every opening to another area, guards set to see to any stragglers the various corridors might harbor. Ganondorf passed through all of these, ebony and crimson cape flowing behind his heavy booted steps, a wickedly pleasant grin upon his face as he neared the stairs down to the jails. It was beautiful, when he finally reached the room she was being held in. So barren. So crushing. So cold and alone. The Gerudo's hand was careful in pulling aside the rectangular iron plate allowing him to peep into the room, careful to not make a noise and alert her of his presence. For now he would observe. Her skin caked in a drying mixture of mud and blood. The look of a woman fallen so far, naked upon unforgiving stone, tangled in the very ropes that had seen to her abuse. The delicate sound of soft sobs, part because she was female, part because her ribs were likely in too much pain to take larger breaths. It was enough for a man like him to get off on. But, no, that small iron sheet slid closed, and with it Zelda's connection to the outside world. He had made his point to her very, very clear, and his next step would come only with time. She'd need that time to properly wrap her head around everything. She'd need that time for it to set in that this was all very, very real. She'd need that time to pray for a savior, only to accept that such things were exclusive to a child's fantasies. Fairy tales, and nothing more. And time did pass, whether she liked it or not. Hours turned into their first day. That first day turned into a very long second, and a third after that, with a full week drawing near. A week of sleeping upon a thin layer of hay upon a thick layer of stone. A week of her only interaction with others being the very brief moment once a day when her heavy wood and iron cell door would open, when a pair of hulking Moblin guards would enter, one with a plate of raw or rotting food and the other brandishing a spear to urge her away. A week of either starving or having to take to that food quickly to beat her cellmates of maggots and rats for it later. And a week where nothing happened, there was no interaction, nothing to listen to, no sign from the outside world whether everything she loved was in flames or the Gerudo had been vanquished and she soon to be freed. Nothing. There was nothing. And that's why, instead of one horrible week, Ganondorf decided to wait two. Knock. Knock. The raps upon the door were heavy, though he no longer wore his armor. Dark green leather pants, brown leather boots, dark brown silk shirt, and leather straps criss-crossed along his forearms. The bolt was undone on the other side of the door with a great show of sound, and in its opening stood the silhouette of a towering seven foot form. "Hello little girl," he said with a wicked smile, chin firm, tilted and raised, grin from ear to ear, "have you thought yet about that apology?"

Whether by exhaustion or blood loss, the radiantly broken Princess finally succumbed to sleep upon the cold, cell slates. Her delicate figure lay completely motionless, as Princess were trained in Hyrule as it was not deemed proper for a noble to toss nor turn in their sleep, save for the gentle breaths which caused her shapen breasts to rise and fall..Sleep, blissful sleep. Such temporary escape from such excruciating pain...Agony that the Goddesses themselves could not alleviate.. It was her destiny. To survive this storm, alone A surging pang of hunger urged her eyes open, after hours, perhaps days had passedA day at least, for a bucket of water had been placed by the door, and next to it a plate coated with a thick brownish slime left perhaps by the meal that had once been there, or more likely the vermin that had devoured it as she slept...Slowly, Zelda lifted herself up by her elbowsHer shoulder still seering with pain, but the dryness of her throat held far more power over her at that momentHer restraints clung to her, as she inched herself closer and closer to the rusty bucket, thats contents would more than likely plague her with an illness just as agonizing if she were too drag her tongue against the spoiled circumference of that soiled plate.. The water was muddled, cloudy, and smelled faintly of earthYet it was proper to suspect that the Moblins had not gathered fresh rain water, and that the contents of the bucket most likely had been scooped up from the bottom of the fountain, or perhaps even the moatDipping her hands elegantly into the cool water, Zelda held her breath slightly as she pursed her lips, to take in the bare nourishment A Princess can survive, off of the very essence of a dew drop, and nothing more Her mothers voice stirred within her heart..As visions of feasts, where her father and the nobles of the court near-gorged themselves upon finely cooked meals and exquisite pastriesWhile the Queen, and her young daughter, ate on small silver plates, a single portion, as was customary, in order to maintain the ethereal Royal waistline As the once refreshing water subsided to a rather bitter aftertaste, Zelda allowed her aching limbs to stretch, standing up so that she could drag the bucket towards the stone slate that could barely pass as a bed.Averting her gaze as she stood, Zelda began lightly scrapping off the dried mud upon her body, instead of focusing upon the small creatures she had spotted jumping about in the hay nearbySome bits of the mud and blood, flaked off without much difficultyBut the rest, was what she had saved the water for. Though her stomach still quivered, the incessant nagging of tutors and nursemaids, preaching the importance of appearance, outweighed the most innocent desire to sate both thirst and hunger.. Cupping her palms into the water, Zelda rubbed her chilled, broken skin..removing as many blemishes as water could..The soil that had refused to brush off, trickled now in watery streams down her body. First from her armsher shoulders, the nape of her neck down to the swell of her breasts. Soon, the fair Princess teeth were trembling, her fingers gone numb, barely able to feel the coarse texture of the hay she picked up from the stone slab, to blot off the running mud-water before it stained her flesh.. The bucket now half full, the whole of her youthful figure now trembling, Zelda cleaned her thighs, the length of her legs, and as modestly as one could given her circumstances, daintily and carefully removed any splots of mud that had tainted her golden curls Exhausted from merely standing, Zelda knelt down upon the stone floor once again. Her frozen fingers dipped once again into the bucket, as she began lightly stringing the water through her hair, in a manner quite similar to one playing a lyre. Her pale lips quivering as she washed the mud and debris from her long tresses, Zelda felt her heart fluttering to a point of near panicFrom the coldfrom the painfrom himShe could hear his voice, louder than any other.She could see him, no matter how tightly she closed them, nor how long she kept them open He was everywhere Trembling, a gasp escaped her lips as she clutched her neck, coughing violently for a moment as she fought to suppress the anxiety swelling inside of her. No..He could not win her this easilyShe would not allow it. Swallowing softly, the tragic sovereign pulled herself up onto the pile of stone and haybringing her knees to her chest she closed her eyes slowly, her arms wrapping about her lithe body as she began hummingA song written by bards, many centuries agoA lament of two young lovers..Destined for one anotherAn appropriate song for a Princess to enjoy..One that surely must have captivated the young Princess at court for reasons other than the way her parents gazed at one another so affectionately as it was sungSoftly, quietly at first, barely audibleEnough to warm her throatHer quivering lips soon gave way to wordsand perhaps, throughout the castle, in the midst of that night or dayher elegant voice was carried on by each stone of the palace O western wind, when wilt thou blow.. That the small rain down can rain...? So that my love... were in my arms ... And I in my bed again Lulled into sleep after the last note caressed her lipsZelda barely moved from her spot upon the slate..She spent her days staring up at that barred hole in the walltrying to spot any sign from the skyline of whether or not her beloved Hyrule still stoodThe food, if one could call the pile of brownish slop that, no longer was escorted in, but rather the door was opened wide enough so that the plate was tossed down upon the floor and a bucket of water beside it, spilling typically a great deal of its contents onto the floor..which the rats would promptly tend to instead..Eating with eyes closed and nose shut was the most efficient way she had found not to immediately gag and negate any nutrients she might have sustainedWhen enough had been taken to nearly satisfy her stomach, she slipped the plate onto the floor and allowed the rats to finish the remainsAny crafty prisoners would have used this as a way to fatten up the rats and then eat them insteadThough Zelda contained herself thus far in her imprisonment, on a meager amount of what resembled foodbut more so upon water, that would act to convince the rest of her body that she was full As the door creaked open, the young Princess did not flinchbut the knocking, that alerted her attention. Sitting down with her legs to the side of her, her back against the wall..Her long hair veiling her most intimate places in the manner of some elegant tapestry figure, Zeldas crystalline eyes still bright, glanced up towards the cell door. No tears lingered upon her facethe cuts and bruises upon her ivory skin nearly vanished..She seemed, barely touched, by her time in isolationThough her heart writhed beneath her breast, she turned her head from the grinning man, looking up towards the ceiling as if his presence there was as threatening as the rats that scurried out through the open door I have not.

It was the expected answer. Savor it. Appreciate it like a fine wine, the finest Hyrule had to offer, the new King told himself. The smile on his face was evident of that, not a smile in spite of her disobedience, but because of. Her spine. Her backbone. Soon would be the day when it wore to a point of snapping; only left would be the wonderful memories of how much fun this little girl was to break. The door didn't close. Ganondorf turned without a word and left her there, he turned and walked back into the hallway, what shadow the hall's torches cast in the room quickly lessening. But in his leave he hadn't closed the door. And then, for a time, all was silent. It wasn't until a pair of rusted iron shackles hurled through that open doorway, clanging, clattering obnoxiously loud across the stone floor of the cell, that Ganondorf formed a response. "Fine!" he shouted out from the hall, hurling a second pair of heavy iron shackles, a length of rope, another length of rope and another. After loudly rooting around in whatever he'd brought for a few seconds more he then emerged through the doorway again, right arm lifting up high to violently throw a whip from his hand, the punishing length of leather falling to a pile with the other items. When he turned to look upon Zelda once again, though, the outburst of rage seemed to somehow subside in an instant. Gone was the fury, in its place a smile, good or bad. Devious or not. The only thing for certain is it was genuine. He smiled down to Zelda as he approached her, steps slow, swagger a powerful one. "Do you know what's happening out there, little commoner? Hm?" No longer a smile, but a grin. "Nothing. Not a thing. Your people..." Each step took him closer. "Mypeople..." Closer still. "Oh, they were terrified, alright. Terrified of my servants. Terrified of me. And with theswift blow-" he inhaled a sharp breath as he spoke, as he charged those final steps, gaining such a speed that when Ganondorf reached the wall where she sat his open palms had to press against the stone to brace the impact, and when his booted foot continued its quick pace it was not a step, but a kick, an unwarned kick above her pale, bare legs. A kick straight to her gut. "-that was the fall of the castle..." he said with a slow, grinning exhale, palms leaning heavily upon the stone. "They fell in line with ease." Breathing in. Breathing out. Ganondorf relaxed elbows and slid down against the wall in his lean, slid down until he was in a crouch. He was close to her now, literally right upon her, his voice heard well even at a soft tone, his breath dancing upon her bared skin. "Oh, there weresomewho resisted, but any pockets of would-be heroes have already been dealt with. Most were drunkard locals whose quick executions have made wonderful examples. None even showed much promise, boringly enough, save perhaps one small group led by a Gerudo woman - traitor to her own people,tch!But they have been dealt with just as everyone else. And as we speak my forces are finishing off the Zora and the Gorons, killing those who would fight, enslaving those who would yield. Within four days I expect to have everything.All of it," he continued to whisper harshly, "now how isthatfor power?" "There isone,though, that has given me some real annoyance," he spoke with a raised tone now, back to a normal volume. "Yourmother." Ganondorf reached to grab Zelda by the ankles. One in each hand, he stood, bent forward, walking backward and dragging her by the feet with him. He didn't take the small teen far, enough so that she was sprawled out on her back with her head a foot or so from the stone cell wall, legs held in the air. As he moved her that picturesque hair fell from its place to bare her already nude body, though Ganondorf didn't stop to gaze. She was nothing to appreciate now, not like this. The Gerudo looked down into those crystalline eyes as he spread her ankles, and with them her legs, revealing her golden-covered sex like a shining treasure between them. "She managed to raise a realcuntof a daughter." With that he struck Zelda with another hard, unforgiving blow, though this one wasn't to her abdomen. It wasn't even close. He kicked her in her vagina. Then he kicked her again. His palms moved halfway down her calves to get a better grip, to hold her steady from any writhing and struggling. "And if that's not bad enough, she's been stinking up my courtyard!" Another kick. "She reeks!" Another. "I don't get it. The birds have picked her clean, the boars play with her bones as toys, yet she still manages to smell up my beautiful courtyard with her remains!" It was a mix of anger and laughter that tinged his voice, that was present upon his lips throughout the whole thing. And with that half snarl, half smirk he descended on her, keeping her legs spread as he came to a kneel between them. When his knees hit the stone he released Zelda's legs to lean over and place them on either side of her head, on all fours atop her. Yet again inches from her face. Now, of all times, she would not be given a moment's reprieve. Ganondorf snatched up the young teen's face in a palm, those beautiful, porcelain cheeks gripped hard with powerful fingers. With his hand clenched around her jaw he forced Zelda's lips open long enough to summon a mouthful of saliva, and then long enough to spit it down into her open mouth. He then forced her jaw shut and held it there, his voice a menacingly close whisper once more, "We have all day, you and I. Tomorrow, too, if we need it." Ganondorf leaned down to kiss her young, unsoiled lips. "Until I have my apology, this punishment will be ofyourdoing."

To have felt relief as he left the room, would have been quite foolishTo have felt anything but cold, heart wrenching fear upon seeing his overbearing figure leave the room without a word, would have predicted emanate death in her futureShe would have never survived these last two agonizing weeks on the brink of starvation, if she had been so foolish as if to believe for even a split second, that he planned on leaving her alone.. Yet her eyes wandered towards the open doorWatching the rats scurry out so freely, knowing that if she had moved but an inch, her body smite and bleeding, would be the next fresh meal for the verminHe was out theresomewhereTesting her curiosity, or.The silence brought with it the deafening sound of her heart fluttering beneath her breast, the panging of her stomach, the loud throbs of her aching muscles..even her back cracked slightly from sleeping so stiffly upon the stone slate. She could not imagine what he was doing, what he was planning, and despite all she had seen, she could never contemplate what he was capable ofPerhaps for the best, for the sake of her sanity, the Princess mind could not sink to such depravity.. Suddenly, a pair of rusted shackles hurled through the room, with enough force to stir the air in the room to whip strands of pretty golden hair across Zeldas young face. Her eyes went wide, despite herselfShe felt her heart leap into her throat and her back press instinctively against the wall as the shackles clashed against the wall, then fell heavily to clatter upon the stone floor. Another pair of shackles came clanking after the first, followed by lengths of rope tossed sloppily, with more ease.He was getting closer. Zeldas eyes moved towards the door, passing the whip that topped the pile of restraints, no doubt placed with intentions to further enforce their usageThe light of the room seemed to blot out as the Gerudo once again filled the doorwayAll save for the shimmering whites of Zeldas crystalline eyes..They glowed, with hidden fear, yet greatly summoned defiance in spite of the objects laid out on the floor. His smile was more terrifying than any device of tortureDrawing in her lips as he spoke, Zelda narrowed those glittering orbs, staring at his features searchingly, though she should have been minding his feetFor in but a split moment after her eyes had set to study the curves of his lips, a sharp, near shattering pain engulfed her. What little food had met inside her stomach, now soared with burning desperation up her throat. Zelda cupped her hands over her mouth as she shrieked, biting down harshly upon her petal lips as she tried to swallow the sick he had summoned from her She was not listening to himShe couldnt focus upon anything but the pressure of his boot against her stomach. The harsh red shape, indented into the Princess lithe stomach, began to swell and bruise almost instantly. As she wiped away the bile that had managed to seep from her lips, she could feel his body covering herLost within his shadow, Zelda slowly gazed up towards the man literally hulking over her body..His breath, hot upon her naked fleshHis musk tinted with sweat and blood, affronting her senses to the point she could feel that bile bubbling inside of her again. His voice was now too close to ignore, despite the pain searing through her Torturous visions of the slain people of Hyrule flashed before the elven monarchs eyesFarmers cut down in their fields, sating the thirst of the earth with their bloodAll of the races that her ancestors had worked so diligently to alignShe could see them now..Gorons cast into the pits of their volcanic mountain, their bodies ashen and dissolving almost immediatelyThe pure waters of the Zora, turned red with bloodtheir lean bodies sinking to the bottoms of their rivers to be fed upon by the fish that they depended on GoneGone There is one, though, that has given me some real annoyance..Your mother.. The curve of his tongue nearly caressed her ear, sending a fit of spasms in her body, reacting as if insects had just been spewed upon her flesh. He had touched her before, but not in such an..almost mockingly intimate fashion. Yet again the Princess thoughts were clouded out, fighting off the urges to scream at the top of her lungs and claw at herself in attempts to get the feeling ofhimoff of herHe seized her ankles, his large hands could have easily snapped her legs like the bones of a small bird had he chose to..Yet he pulled her, dragged, with such a force that she had barely enough time to place her hands behind her head to lessen the impact of her skull against the stone. Light abrasions burned upon her back from being pulled..but the pain was nothing to compare with the humiliation of such a poseZelda was near-frozen in horror, as her legs were drawn up and spread widely by the licentious usurperSuch vulnerability was almost unbearable..and had the Goddesses not blessed her with such an ardent heart, it may very well have given out right thenHis intentions were painstakingly clearbut once more, she could never predict the extent of his depravity He did not gaze upon her with lust, savoring her disgrace whilst licking his jowls, preparing to rob her of her dignityInstead, he raised his boot to her again, smashing the toe against her most intimate folds, stirring such a beautifully distressing cry from the Princess, who could no longer suppress the painTears filled those lovely eyes, spilling silently as she once again bit down on her lip, only slightly muffling her scream as he once again pushed the toe of his boot between the curves of her thighsHer back arched, her fingers scraping at the stone as she writhed in agonyThe young girl turned her head aside as the wretched brute spit sarcastically about the condition of her mothers remainsShe closed her eyes tightly, her body convulsing slightly to catch her own breath as she fought off sobsDespite that she had already screameddespite that her tears were already pouring like sweet summer rain down her lily faceShe could not dignify him with more suffering.. She couldnt give innot yet As her body was quite easily folded up, and the man hulked over her once more like a beast ready to mount his mate or feast upon his prey, Zelda peered out from blurred eyes, her lips now pinkened with drawn blood, trembling as he pulled apart her mouth in order to spit near directly down her throat. Had she chosen to spew up in retaliationNo..she could not think of the consequences of such a thing..Instead, the young Princess stared up at her captor, feeling his body heavily lain against the curves of her bruised and aching figureShe had no choice but to swallow the salted mucusand as he pressed his lips against her own she whispered, You will be shown no mercy..in the end

"What are you talking about?" Ganondorf questioned, first a look of confusion, then simply a smirk. "The end already came, little Zelda. Reckoning has come and went. And guess what?" For this he leaned in even closer, were such a thing possible. And was his sight and touches upon her exposed body not horrid enough already, a gloved hand reached down to Zelda's side, to her waist, resting his palm on her bare hip in a touch of intimacy, fingers curling about her side in a closeness one might expect from a lover. Her discomfort was ever pleasant to him. "It wasyouwho received no mercy." A whisper. "Yourpeople." Harsh, set against her ear. Ganondorf moved from one ear to the other, shifting to the other side of Zelda's head, his eyes briefly closed in passing her face. "Cry, little girl," he whispered to her left ear now, breath hot against fair, quivering skin. "Cry your heart out. Hate me. I care nothing. You have been brought to justice for the crimes of your ancestors, and if you wish mercy your spine will have to break, much as my people have been broken over the generations. Cry! Your tears are goddamndelicious!" He brought himself back to a hover over her. For a brief moment he pressed his larger forehead to hers, very brief, firm green against pale pink, eyes closed and breath upon her. "I'm going to kill you," Ganondorf stated coolly, kneeling over the fallen Zelda. "Not directly." He stood, eyes opening again, back straightening to his full seven feet. "Over time, here in this cell. From your beating. I don't imagine your small frame can withstand this forever, nevermind the recent malnourishment." Speaking calmly, breathing calmly, he left the crying, naked teen to walk to the pile of toys he'd so carelessly chucked inside the cell a few minutes ago. "It would be a shame to have you die after everything, but I don't think I would regret it." The shackles first. He threw them at her, lifted and tossed in the air. He reached to snatch up the second set while watching from the corner of his eye as the first landed on the elf's abdomen, rusted iron falling against her exposed belly. That was enough for another smirk. Ganondorf straightened again and walked back to the fallen royalty. He leaned down to take her legs again, the right first, pulling her leg straight so hard that her ass lifted off the stone, her weight shifting to her lower back. Holding her slightly in the air like that he set the shackle around her ankle, locking it in place. It was cold. It would chafe. Poor baby. He dropped her ass back to the stone and reached to her opposite foot, lifting her again for ease of his height to attach the other end of the shackle. Holding her leg like this gave the King another perfect glimpse of the teen's vagina, of her hairy fucking cunt, blonde pubic curls dancing about intimate folds that were already starting to bruise. Laughing, low and guttural, he dropped her again. Ganondorf leaned over more to grab the young girl by the hair and by an arm. He harshly whipped her over, shoving her in one direction until her chest and face were to the stone and her bare backside in plain view. The Gerudo pulled the shackles out from beneath her, which she'd been flipped over upon, and twisted each of Zelda's wrists behind her back. No mercy. Not an ounce. Not an inch. Her ankles chained, her wrists chained, he took hold of her hair again with one hand and the chain between her arms with the other, lifting her in a rather painful manner to a stand; every bit of force from the movement either pulled at her hair or twisted her arms behind her back higher than they were ever meant to go. "Despite everything there's some irony to be had here. I'm powerless to stop this." Ganondorf shoved the petite Hylian forward. Perhaps too hard; instead of making it to the wall the short length of chain between her ankles caused her to stumble halfway there. Thankfully he was quick to step forward to catch Zelda by the hair, thus saving her the pain of falling face first and instead replacing it with another. He jerked her to a stand again and shoved her this time up against the wall. "You're the only one here who can make this end." He stepped back. Back a few more feet. Kneeling, Ganondorf grabbed the long leather whip from among the few pieces of rope on the cold stone floor. "Not me." He cracked the whip, lashing what from then on would be a very permanent scar diagonally across the young maiden's back.

In the end A day of destiny, when the Sages would fulfill the will of Fate, and trap the fiendish desert King within the confines of the Sacred Realm...A day when the Hero of Time would plunge his sword into the hallowed chest of the grinning usurper, for surely no heart lingered beneath his putrid flesh, spilling his cold black blood upon the stolen throne.. A day when Hyrule would be restored to its glory, and when Zelda would be restored to her graceIf that is, she survived to see said day The pads of his fingers pressing against the curve of her hip made her recoil, pressing herself as far back against the stone slate as she could manage. Her hands desperately, but with little force, pressed against the mans shoulders in an effort to push him awayYet, the fair Princess was but a butterflys fluttering against a mountain side...No amount of strength that she could ever summon, would force the wicked Gerudo from his placeHer slender fingertips pushed and curled, with hardly a show of intimacy, her tended nails not sharp enough to place even the smallest scratch upon the man had that been her intentions She wanted himawayfrom herHis searing breath off of her neck..His rough forehead away from her skin...His bodygone. His touch was far worse than his words..His threats, or perhaps his assurances, of her eventual murderShe could compose herself easily to fend off his words..But his touch was more menacing than perhaps he realizedHis weight was crushing her, making it more difficult to breatheCausing the young elven blonde to draw in desperate air, her breasts pushing closer to the man, her body curling towards him despite herself.. The few sporadic breaths she savored when he removed himself from her were drawn in vain, for the weight of rusted iron came crashing down upon her form soon after, knocking the breath from her lungs whilst one heavy shackle clashed harshly against the side of her jaw..Her vision became clouded, dots of black and white blurring her sight, dancing before her eyes as she felt her vitalityvanishing. She barely moved when he grasped her leg, yanking it forward nearly with enough force to pop it out of its socket entirelyShe flinched, her beautiful features contorting with the most radiant agony that nobility could muster.. her hands curling against the stone beneath her as she once again began drawing in anxious breaths, perhaps to calm an inner wave of panic threatening to surface With as much effort as it would take to toss a rag doll on its front, Zeldas lovely face was soon pressed down against the stone, her lean backside hoisted up in the air in the manner of some Kakriko harlot, her arms soon twisted backwards to be fastened in the same manner as her ankles..What purpose did these restraints serve other than as visual reminder of her captivity? She would not run without them on..nor would she be any match for him physically had she been blessed with the courage to face himNo, it was simply more amusing to see renderedcompletelyhelpless.. And as he shoved her too her feet, she clattered unstably like a foal fresh into the worldHer knees buckling from dizziness, her scalp far too numb from bruises to feel the full pain of his fist buried within her hair Her breasts scraped against the jagged stone of the walls as she was shoved forward, her body throbbing in agony as she lay with her weight against the wall, her eyes closed as she tried to concentrate enough on her prayers so that she would not pass out from the pain But the Goddesses could not even spare her a moment of peace..They had no doubt recoiled in despair from their seeing stones, by the time the sudden lash of the whip cut deeply against Zeldas back. The scream which echoed from her, could be heard throughout the entirety of the palace grounds..Though not one who lingered close by would even twitch their ears in recognition of the tortured cries..Zelda fell to her knees, her forehead pressed against the stones whilst the blood from the fresh lash began trickling down the small of her lily white back My deathwill not spare you from your fate

The scream was quite possibly the worst thing she could have ever done. Continuing to have pride, continuing to have strength, a backbone, were dangerous things with no power to back them up with, yet to give in to a bully, great or small, to feed his sadistic desires would always prove far worse. Always. The banshee-like shriek was goddamndivine, sating her captor for a flash, for but a moment in time before it was gone - and with its disappearance was the memory of how beautiful it had been, like a flame, like art mistaken for destruction. He would have it again, her body his canvas if need be. A second crack of the smooth leather whip brought about a second straight line of blood along the ex-Princess' pale back, stretching from one butt cheek up along her skin and to her opposite shoulder, crossing over the first lash near the top. "My fate, little girl, is as King. You are true in your death not sparing me from it; nor would I wish it to." He chuckled. By the gods, this was amazing! Such a rush! He couldn't ask for a stronger woman to visit his wrath upon! To think that many hardened criminals would have given in after only the incarceration. To think that anyone of sanity would have given in after having their genitalia stomped so crudely, so mercilessly. And here was a young woman willing to please the deepest of his sadist urges not only with her once-title and frail, alluring femininity, but a backbone that simply would not fucking give! The third lash came horizontally this time, etching a permanent, bloody scar across the center of Zelda's back, and just above her elbows where her arms were in the way. Was it wrong to be hard right now? Was he fucking sick to be erect? Then sick he would be, Ganondorf thought with a grumbling laugh! The fourth lash was quick after the third, quicker than the others had been, horizontal again but lower. This time Ganondorf struck her across the legs, slightly above the bend of her knees. How long had he been rubbing himself for? A whip only took one hand. The other had shamelessly delved down the front of his pants without the tall Gerudo even thinking about it, choking a pale green dick in his eager palm. He savored her shrill tears. He relished her wails, her high-pitched shrieks, her screams. Like a choir all by herself, listening to her call out for her god or any god that would listen stirred within him a most unholy of delights. Heavy, booted footsteps severed the distance between them in a moment's time. "You aren't nearly done, little girl," the Gerudo spoke as he pulled his hand from his pants long enough to grab her shoulder, whipping her around. When she faltered and understandably near collapsed he caught her with that same hand around her throat, clenching down, using it to lift Zelda back to a stand. Or, as close to a stand as one could be expected to maintain throughout such abuse. He held her there for a few seconds until she felt stable on her own; on her knees, on her feet, either was fine. Either worked. Ganondorf unhanded her and stepped back, grinning, snickering, taking in the second canvas that was the front of her body. From bosom to bush. From thighs to hips, to abdomen, to shoulders, to face. Most torturers left the front untouched, opting for the larger area of the back when lashing. Most lacked a goddamn imagination. A fifth lash. Her left cheek to her collarbone. Her collarbone over past her left breast, over past the left side of her abdomen, down past her pelvis and halfway down her thigh. "Gyahaha!!" A sixth. The top of her belly, horizontally across.

Each strike brought with it, a most searing and unbearable pain that far surpassed the torment of its precursor. While the length of the whip cut deeply into its precise target, splitting the porcelain white flesh as easily as a sword through a silken cloth, the frayed tips of the whip lashed in unruly direction; cutting against the sides of Zeldas neck, across her tender nipples, and at the very curve of her inner thighs With the second strike, Zelda bit down upon her lip..Attempting to hold in the pitiful shriek that had escaped her before..But the third came too fast, and too harshCutting near into the bone of her arm perhaps from the force of the blowWith a mournful cry, the Princess body buckled, pushing forth against the stone wall as if she could very well hide herself from the Gerudos villainous torture.. Blood pooled within the fresh gashes upon Zeldas slender back, weeping down the curves of her body; staining the former perfection of her figure.Bloodied rain drops upon pure, white snow...Strands of Zeldas golden tresses became stuck to the fresh wounds, tinting the ends so that when her head reeled from side to side in agony, tiny pinpricks of blood were spread upon her shoulders. Even amidst the shrill cries, the horrific lesions upon her bodyThe absolute state of agonizing despair that the former noble was trapped within, her radiance proved far more stubborn than her heart. Zeldas beauty still was near-divine in the wake of such a tragic display With head bowed in shame, Zelda could not see the perverse enjoyments of the villainous King behind herShe could not see his sick, twisted lustings over her anguishHis satisfaction nay, hispleasurewhilst observing her misery She could not hear his carnal grunts, the sound of his palm slicking against his growing arousal..Nor would she want to hear, even if the screaming inside of her head would subside for just one moment The pain was overwhelming..To the point where Zelda near lost control of herself...Screaming out, despite her will, for Nayru, her blessed deity, to protect her from such monsters...Out loud, Zelda only screamed the Goddess nameFor according to Hylian tradition, speaking the name of a deity could invoke their power, if said speaker was accordingly righteous Inside, she was pleading,beggingfor this hell to endBut the Sacred Realm would not open for the Princess of Destiny...Not even a ray of light that could alleviate her pain even for a moment When his hand clasped down upon her shoulder, Zelda was whipped about with such force that she nearly succumbed to the dizzy spells that had been plaguing her...Blood rushing to her head, causing her sight to dim for just long enough for the chains around her ankles to once again to cause her to stumbleInstead of being caught by her hair, the brute caught her by the throatforcing her up against the wall so that the loose debris would scrape inside of the whip lashes..Blinking tears away,Zelda lifted her head slightly as she struggled for breath..Perhaps he did not even realize he was crushing her throatHis hand quite easily wrapped around her neck after allShe was but a candle, with a small wick of a neck, but an infuriatingly stubborn flame One he would have to do far more than lick his fingers together to snuff out. The lash to her front was far more excruciating than those upon her backThe whip directly slicing down upon her breast..Zelda howled, a sound reminiscent of if one was to slay one of the Great FairiesA serenely devastating cry, almost musical in its anguish Falling to her knees before the cruel, malicious King, Zelda folded over herselfSuch a small, lithe figure, curled up into an even smaller sightBlood trickling in all directions, staining even the golden curls between her thighs Even stillthat willful flame, peered up through teary, strained eyes..Her lips quivering, her face a ghastly pale from the loss of bloodEven still, she glared at him..Defiantly You are no King..Just a brute withwith

It wasn't often that clamor like this erupted in Dorter Trade City, a dingy, filthy place that wasn't so much 'run down' as it had never been much of anything to begin with. A series of slums. It had started its life as a crossroads where merchants would gather, remain for a few weeks and trade their wares back and forth, before those there semi-permanently decided to stay permanently, and more decided to stay after that. There was just too much money in trade to go back home, and so home came to them, the city coming into being in less than a decade's time. There was no government in Dorter, no police, no anything official. For that reason it could get dangerous there, a city of slum after slum where most buildings were made of sheet metal and plywood, often times with dirt floors, and even the nicer buildings were uneven and often leaked. Ironic, considering how much money came and went there every single day... make the place too nice, though, and certain types of people would move in, wanting a cut of their own. So things were kept undesireable, and due to that a number of things tended to be in demand, adventurers-turned-guards one of them. But nowadays things had turned bad. At the end of the Fifty Year War that had left both Prince Larg's and Lord Goltana's coffers bare and their food stores depleted, neither had the funds to pay for the legions of troops they each commanded. That led to numerous soldiers of all types being released, often without a thing to their name aside from a handful of i.o.u.'s. That meant they couldn't afford food, or shelter. That meant most quickly degraded to doing anything just to provide themselves with life's basic necessities. That meant that those who didn't turn to thievery and kidnapping, those who sought more legitimate means of keeping themselves alive ended up creating an overflow quite literally overnight of men and women who would do jobs for money, while the economic ruin meant there was no money anymore to go around. That meant large amounts of people were getting very desperate, very quick. 'A young woman between the ages of fourteen and thirty is being sought for entertainment at a party on the eleventh. Must be pretty. No experience or special talents are required. Payment offered is 30,000gil - Duke Malincieu' It was amazing, the amount of people that could fit in that single, small tavern in one of Dorter's slums, shouting for more information, all asking simultaneously where it was being held. The poor bartender was doing his best to answer them, giving the location of the Duke's home a few miles outside of the city, shouting to be heard over the numerous women shouting back because they couldn't hear him. There had to be close to fifty or sixty women there trying to get the information all at once, and with an unbelievable offer like that it was hard to blame them - thirty-thousand gil, a purse ten times that often offered for a job where one's life would be in danger. And this could be earned in one night! At what, some sort of fancy cocktail party? Oh, how often things were too good to be true...

"...But it's so much money..." "Patience. There's no need to be a wild beast and push to the front of the line. The deal will still be there when we arrive to ask. Finish your meal." "But... but..." "We can't afford to waste food in case we don't get this job. We'll ask after we've eaten." The young redhead huffed a few times and made a few more frantic gestures, trying to urge her companion to go sooner, but wasn't able to convince her. The traditional outfit she still wore and bow laying nearby hinted that she was one of the many recently fired mercenaries that were all desperately seeking work. "Are you sure? I can... you know... we ARE trained fighters after all..." The other woman set down the cup of tea she was sipping and gave a menacing glare at her companion as she spoke, "And so are half of the other girls there. You'd get beaten senseless and thrown to the street. Probably robbed of what little money you have on the way, and after all of that, you'd only end up thrown in jail." After a momentary look of defiance, the archer flopped back into her chair, pouting with her arms crossed over her chest. "FINE. We'll wait. But if we lose this job because of you, I'm gonna..." "Going to what?" The white robed woman, clearly the older and more mature of the pair cut the archer off. "You're going to whine and complain, and blame me even though the job is just as likely to be taken by the time we arrive even if we hurry. All we can hope for is that they're looking for someone who's above this rabble. Otherwise, we're already too far behind those pushy women in front to stand a chance at getting this job. So shut up and eat." The priestess' words were harsh, but well meaning. These two had been traveling together ever since their band of mercenaries was abruptly disbanded after the war, they weren't the first ones sent to pasture, but they were far enough behind that all of the stable jobs were already taken. Odd jobs and stray work like this rare opportunity were all they could get by on, they barely got through by selling their more expensive weapons at, much to their dismay, substantially reduced prices due to just how many weapons were sold en masse. The priestess flipped her blond hair back and reached into her robes, pulling out a pitifully light coin purse, barely having enough to pay for the pair's meal after they finished their food. She looked up in time to see her young companion pushing through a group of gruff looking men to try to slip closer to the bar, hoping to get more information while the crowd was still forcing its way closer. "Figures." the priestess muttered, shaking her head slowly and standing, bowing to the waiter that took the money as she too attempted to slip closer to the bar now, not as eager to demand information, but wanting to keep an eye on her friend.

The shouting was still loud, but after four or five minutes, a length of time that felt more akin to thirty, the vast array of women crowding the bar gradually subsided. The bartender had stood up on a stool, whistled and waved his arms while a pair of men, one the innkeep and the other the waiter, used their deep voices to help call for silence. "...Finally!" the man called with an exasperated sigh. "You women are insane!" Though he couldn't quite blame them, the middle-aged greying man thought as he fixed his shirt, it having shifted a bit with the flurry of his arms. Taking a breath, then a slower one after that, he cast a look to the waiter and the innkeeper, a nod of thanks to each. "Alright. Alright, listen. Everyone quiet and listen," the bartender continued with a raised voice, though not as heavy of a tone, no longer fighting to be heard. He still stood on his stool though, looking out to a room full of feminine faces, some tougher than others. He was in the presence of everything from once-knights to ninja assassins, to chemists to dancers to women who were still young squires. Some weren't even mercenaries, simply daughters of merchants in Dorter, young merchants themselves, or even street urchins desperate for the odd job. "Everyone listen, this is different from other jobs, you don't need to shout or fight over it. Well, not here at least! I don't care what you do out there, just not in here! ...Anyway, Duke Malincieu is looking for young ladies to entertain at some fancy shindig for a bunch of nobles tomorrow evening. Tch," he said with a disgusted sneer. To think, thirty thousand gil just for some entertainment? That's the reason the country is heading toward ruin right there! "That's all I know. When they came with the bill that was all they told me, that and the location... Oh, and I'm not goin' to be the one pickin' who goes, so stop shoving!" This came with a sharp look to a redhead still pushing her way through the crowd. "Look, I've got the directions marked down on bits of parchment I got, and ten gil gets you one. I'm not pickin' who goes and who stays, you all can buy one. They're gonna pick who they like from whoever shows up there tonight or tomorrow. And from the look of some of you ladies, for an extra ten gil you can get cleaned up in the bathwater down the hall. It may be cold, but only been used a couple'a times so far I think, so it's still pretty clean. Don't wanna go to somethin' like this dirty, do ya? Maybe a change a clothes too, though I don't got none of those for you." The last bit came with a little smirk. "Anyways, form a line if you want the info. Ten gil. No exceptions! There's too many here to barter with, you take it or you don't!" By this point the chatter had picked back up considerably, making it good the bartender finished when he did. He stepped down from the stool and turned to pin the parchment on the wall behind him, its ink still barely dried. And with a breath he turned back to the crowd, pulling out a slip from his apron, handing it to the first woman to hesitantly part with her coins.

"Gimme some money!" The archer called back in an urgent whisper, her companion barely catching up with her as the priestess shook her head slowly. "We don't have anymore. That meal was the last of it. We've got maybe five gil left..." She gave a stern look, and reached into her purse, only realizing shortly after she did that it wasn't a lie. She had meant to merely shun the waste of money on a deal that was likely to fall through, but now she was left more worried than before and sighing softly as she turned to leave. "Uhm, 'scuse me... can we... get ten gil? Please?" the young archer tried asking other girls as she passed them, "Maybe we can borrow your map? Come on... it's not like you're the only one that can use it!" She even grew desperate to start offering her remaining weapons as collateral as she asked a few men for the gil, but the weapons would hardly be worth the gil with the was society had changed. Out in front of the building, the healer was doing the same as her young friend, though with any luck, more effectively, she'd think to herself. "Pardon me, but would you be willing to make a small donation to a good cause?" she asked a passer-by or two, when more mercenaries passed, she approached them with a gentle bow, "Have you heard of the job being offered nearby? We ah... would like to know where it's at if you do... or maybe we could work together to find it?" It was only obvious that the two friends, as well as so many other girls here, would grow more and more desperate as the day wore on if they couldn't get the money or directions... not to mention perhaps that bath.

"Ten gil?" came a voice from behind the redhead. It was heavy and gruff, and wasn't... it wasn't a normal tone. There was something to it, something portending about it. "I've got ten gil. I've got more than that, actually." A hand brushed up against the leather-clad archer as the man came into view, portly and tanned, his beard thick and dark, his hair still decently thick, but speckled with grey. If he wasn't twice the girl's age then he was twice her age with change. "I've got more... but it sounds like you're pretty desperate for ten." He was a local merchant, a man with money in a city where money dictated law. The smile he gave the young woman was devious and filled with intent, combined with the physical touch of his hand gliding up her back, slowly from just above her backside up to her shoulder blades, then to a side, beneath one of her arms. "It's amazing how many women are going for one job, don't you think? I was watching the whole time. Them... and you. Mm. You're in a tough situation, aren't you? What's your name? I bet it's a pretty one, sweetheart. And I bet if you don't come across that money quick enough, one of those other ladies will get the job before you even get there." Scouting something like this hadn't been the man's intention; he'd simply come for a meal and a drink, some thick stew and cheap beer, but when you saw something like this you didn't pass it up. Some women were still up front by the counter, eagerly awaiting their turns, but for the most part things were dispersing. "Ten gil for a blowjob. Twelve if you swallow." To the goddamn point, and with a hell of a lowball at that. Desperation was an interesting bargaining chip. "My shop is three down on the left." His hand drifted from her shoulder blade down to her backside, giving her ass a quick, firm squeeze before he started past her. The man sauntered out the door smelling of beer and smiling a fun little smile. Maybe she wouldn't come. Maybe she would. There was a degree of fun in just the proposition itself. Four, five... alright, alright, who didn't chip in? Gregor? Fuck, man, is it every time? Alright, alright, that makes six now. That'll do, I think. Yeah. Look at her; that'll do, heh heh." Whether or not the priestess had noticed them, they'd surely noticed her. It had started simple enough. She'd asked one of the men for a donation when he passed by, got shunned, and went to ask someone else. Innocent, right? Though when he saw his buddies across the way they asked what that woman wanted, and from there the jokes started. And from there the suggestions began to pour. After about thirty seconds of back and forth each of the six agreed to chip in a gil to have a little fun. This damn shithole was a place God had forsaken; were that not the case, perhaps one of the cloth would get a little more respect. The gil in the man's green cotton cap jingled together as he approached the priestess, purposefully, advertising its existence. When his footsteps brought him to a stop beside the blonde he jingled it a few times more, smiling a fun smile, taking in the look on her face. "Hey there." He glanced down at her robe, specifically at the way it hung about her curves. Yeah, there was something nice beneath that thing, alright. "Six gil if you show me 'n my friends here the goods. That's easy money. ...How bad ya need it? Bad enough to stand out here 'n beg, eh?" In a place like this, with young things like them, it apparently didn't take long for the offers to come in. Insulting. Degrading. Disgusting. Yet, were they men, they wouldn't even have an option. Were they men, out begging in the slums, it was unlikely anyone would even care.

The slender archer girl felt the man approaching her, still clustered in with other girls while the mess was starting to clear, and her eyes met his uncertainly as he began to make his offer. "Yeah, I ah.. I guess we are a bit desperate. Everyone needs money these days..." A few casual touches was nothing out of the ordinary, she was always fairly close with her fellows when money was plentiful and fighting everywhere. "My name's Jenifer." she said softly, turning and giving him a curt bow, looking interested... right until he finally spit out his offer. "You've got to be kidding me." Jenifer blurted out in response to his offer, already frowning when she felt his hand slide down and squeezing her rear, instantly bringing her to a raging boil as his haughty attitude and slowly trying to stumble out of the place met with her own gentle touch, in a fist slamming into his back when he turned on her. "You think you can just say something like that to me and walk off? I'm a well trained mercenary! I made more than that every time I fired my bow, you fat bastard! Apologize to me right now, or I'll simply beat an apology out of you!" Outside of the building, the priestess had slowly moved down the road, asking for donations still, and slowly losing her steam. "Anywhere else..." she muttered to herself, though she knew better than that, after the war money was tight, and no matter what town she was in it wouldn't get any better. The few towns that were wealthy enough that she might have earned some money were flooded with others just like her. The sound of jingling coins drew her attention and she smiled widely as she turned with her graceful bow, "Oh thank you good sir. Your deeds will not go unrewarded, I promise. May the light of th- ... what?" She blinked a few times, not entirely sure what the man meant. "I hardly consider this begging good sir, but if you insist on being given a demonstration of my abilities to prove I'm a priestess, I would be happy to ... if any of your friends are sick or injured, I would gladly treat them... You may call me Katelyn. Please show me your friend that needs my assistance." It was instantly obvious that Kate had no idea what the man meant, misunderstanding his request to see her body as a request for her to use her skills. She bowed her head lightly and whispered thanks, "Though my skills are not meant to merely be for sale, I still appreciate these offers given to me and my friends."

"Urgh... nng... guh, you little cunt!" the large man groaned out as he fell to a knee. Standing, turning sharply, his own clenched fist was ready to strike her in retaliation when he hesitated. "Take it the fuck outside!" the bartender yelled, face red, crossbow procured from beneath the bar and squarely aimed at the two. That was why he had hesitated. It was a good reason to hesitate. "Fine," the man said with a sneer, glaring angrily at Jenifer. "You ain't that good lookin' anyway... no ass... no tits... Lucky I was in a generous mood in the first place. Tch. Lucky I don't hire one'a these other mercs with that gil to kick your ass so I don't gotta dirty my hands." Then he spat down into her face. And then he started walking backward, crossbow still aimed at them both. Backward, out of the bar, glancing to the bartender every few moments but mostly keeping his eyes on the archer. The thirty-something thief looked over his shoulder to cast a quick, smiling glance to his friends. This chick seemed a little naive, but that could be worked with. That could be worked with. He looked back to the priestess as he slipped an arm into hers rather friendly-like, turning, turning her with him, hat of coins jingling in his other hand as he led her across the dirt road to the group. "Everyone, this is Katelyn. Katelyn's a very pretty, and very nice young lady. Katie, this is everyone. They're not the prettiest bunch but I think we can all be friends." "Forget that, I just wanna fuck her!" This came with a bit of laughter, high-fives, and a few more lewd comments too quick or too low to be audible. "Yeah, c'mon sweetie. Up with it," came a young, spry squire as he stepped in close, the smallest of the bunch, grabbing Katelyn's white robe to lift it up at the front. "Get friends with us quick 'n there's more gil where that came from, heh heh."

Jenifer grinned as the man cursed out, only to respond to the tender gleefully, "With Pleasure." The stared down the man as he spit down at her only to have her spit back in his face in return, "Half the mercs here haven't even been in a real fight, and the other half have sold most of their weapons. The few that still have weapons would gladly join my side and split what cash we take off your corpse if I tell them they can split my share." She knew the crossbow was aimed at her but didn't so much as turn to the tender while they left, keeping her eyes squarely on the man that was backing away as she followed him out of the bar, just at far enough of a distance that a fight wouldn't break out until they were outside, but not far enough she'd lose him easily. "You really think hiring mercenaries to fight mercenaries is a threat?" Jen grinned widely as she followed after him while he was still glaring down at her, "The worst case, it's an easy job and a few less workers to go around... best case, your stupidity launches another major battle... and even if it barely lasts a couple weeks, it's still cash for all of us mercs." she laughed at the seemingly scared man, "I call that a win-win situation. Don't you? The worst case for me is you apologize and run like a scared dog." Katelyn smiled as she took the man's arm in hers proudly, always happy to think she was ready to do some good while she followed the man across the street. She curtsied to the group with a wide smile as she was introduced, "Oh, I think you all look fine. I'm not one to judge anyone who wants to be fr..." She stammered off in utter shock, blinking a few times and looking as if the man had just slapped her when that crude exclamation was blurted out. "I... I... wait... I don't think you understand what kind of friends that I want to be..." she barely made out a few words of those lewd remarks, but not enough to understand anything but their implications as she huffed softly. She turned to the man who still had one of her arms, "I don't think your friends understand what I'm here for..." she began to protest, motioning at them with one hand just as that sly squire rushed her, lifting her robes, and giving all of his friends a rather clear view of the clueless priestess. Only a skimpy fur-undergarment covered her nethers as her robe was thrown upward far enough that it went right over her head, and her ample breasts were left completely bared to the men as she let out a horrified shriek, grabbing at her robes to try to pull them back down and cover herself, "MONSTERS!" she cried out as she tugged at her robes.

Snarling, the man wiped the archer's spit from his cheek with the back of a palm. Pride was on the line now. This flat-chested little cunt was gonna pay. Cautiously stumbling backward, half because he had a few drinks in him and half because, obviously, he was walking backward, the merchant kept his eyes on the young woman as he made his way out of the tavern. There weren't any rules once they were outside. Whoa-hoh, check that out!" "Was that her bush? Holy shit!" "H-hey, cutie, not so fast! You ain't gettin' paid for just a peek!" One motioned two others, and before there was a chance to react two of the men had grabbed Katelyn's arms, one on each side of her. A third, the young squire, rushed forward to grab and lift her robe again to the cheers of his friends. "Fuckin' beautiful, those tits. Check those babiesout!" "Goddamn,I'd like tomilkthis girl!" "Hahaha" "And nah, looks like that's just some furry underwear. You guys think her real thing's just as hairy?" "Well wedidpay to see, didn't we? Let's pull it down and take a lo-" "A HUNDRED GIL!" came a sudden, thunderous shout. "...eh?" The quintet turned to the entrance of a nearby tavern where they saw a burly man stumbling backward, grabbing at his coin purse with one hand and pointing frantically with the other. Pointing at...? At a woman who came through the door a moment later. "A HUNDRED GIL TO WHOEVER KNOCKS THIS BITCH OUT!" He wasn't a fighter. He hired fighters. "...Well, that's certainly an interesting offer," one of the men commented on as he looked about to his friends. "Whaddya say we go do her real quick?" "I'm game." "One broad? That's easy gil right there." "Alright. Yo, Greg, Phil, you two stay with Blondie here. Dooon't worry sweetie, we ain't gonna hurt ya. We just wannaappreciate, that's all." He cast her a wink. He cast her a grin. And with a wave, he and two of the others turned to head over to the merchant and the archer, daggers finding their ways to each of their hands. The other two men stayed put, holding Katelyn back, each holding one of her arms and having fun grabbing at her tits with their others.

Jenifer was loving it, watching that oaf stumble and trip over his own two feet as she drew her bow out, giving the bartender a polite wave, "Don't worry, I'm just testing it. I won't hurt him til we're good and outside." She called back at the man with the crossbow while she followed the man. "Time's a wasting. Apologies or injury. Choice's yours." BEASTS!" Katelyn cried out in a rage, struggling to just barely get her robes down again as they spoke at her. No sooner was she covered again than their hands were on her arms and her robes were pulled upward again. "Unhand me this moment!" She insisted as her large breasts were gawked at and those hands moved ever closer, her loin cloth grabbed and tugged at, loose knots coming undone just as the shouting was heard nearby... Kate looked over and whinced. She instantly realized her friend was the one about to be horribly outnumbered, not only the men already about to molest her prepared to jump to the challenge, but countless others would be ready to as well. But it was worse than that. The man didn't ask her to be killed, but knocked out, which likely meant he intended to turn her into a slave for whatever she had done to him. As much as she disliked Jenifer's antics at times, she knew nothing the girl would've done in such a short time warranted turning her into a slave for the rest of her life... Lewd hands grabbing at her breasts as her loin cloth fell to the ground, those warm palms working over her ample tits and rubbing into her nipples, and her pussy coming into view, Kate understood that as a healer, even if these were common thugs, it would only take two of them to restrain her, and four more guys could easily beat an ill-equipped archer. "WAIT... wait... why would you want to help a fat pig like that? He's only going to rip you off after you help him. That girl's my friend, he probably ripped her off to start this whole thing..." She knew it was a possibility, but was grasping at straws now to wonder why the fight was going on. "If you help me and my friend beat that guy up instead, we'll take the money he owes my friend, and the hundred gil, AND everything else he has on him, a bloated merchant like that probably has thousands of gil!" She tried to tug against the two guys holding her as she pleaded with the group, "If you join our side, we have a major advantage that they can't match. I'm one of the few priestesses in this god-forsaken town. And the only one who'll actually be in this foul excuse for a fight." Desperation and panic were getting the best of her, as she knew her friend would be in deep trouble very soon, but at the same time she was being held by a pair of rapists that were slowly kneading her sensitive breasts, while she was exposed to anyone who bothered to look in her direction, turned not only into a toy for the two on her, but an exhibitionist before anyone else nearby. "I... I'll take off my robes and give them to you for safekeeping even.. t..to prove I won't run away after the fight... I'm broke, I wouldn't have the money to buy new clothes. And I don't want to wander around THIS town nude... it would be like begging more people to do the same to me... that way you have every reason to help me... please?" In her final desperate bid, she attempted to slip her robes off and give them to the group... Jenifer's laughter grew dark after the man announced his offer. She could already see thugs from all around preparing themselves for the fight. She was more experienced than this lot, and in a one on one fight... even a two on one fight, she was sure she could take anyone here. But such a shout in the middle of this foul town was sure to draw a lot more than just a couple of thugs. "A hundred? My word, if you'd have offered me that much in your filthy proposal, maybe I would've taken it. Guess we'll never know now, eh? Prepare to..." The archer's words were cut short as she spotted her friend off in the background, being held back and her robes lifted while a pair of thugs assaulted her breasts, working the priestess' ample tits up and down in their hands. "K..kate?" she stammered, trying hard to shake off the sight. She had more pressing matters... like the battle she just found herself in the middle of. She turned away from the sight hard and glared back at the man again, "On second thought, don't prepare to do anything... just smile and think you're safe. It will be so much more satisfying to stick an arrow in your ass when you're smugly grinning at me as if you've won already." Bow already prepared, Jenifer attempted to take the initiative, rushing to get to some high ground and get away from anyone that would obviously be dangerous if they joined the battle.

Things were getting interesting. Interesting, and at a very quick rate. Three of the men were approaching the burly, lecherous merchant from behind, though they were little better. Eyes were cast upon Jenifer as they came forward, steps upon the dirt slow, measured, hunters deciding the method in which they would pounce. The two others, an archer and a chemist, were holding Katelyn firmly by her arms. That was, until she started making offers, squirming in their grasp. Her words were coming too fast for either to interject, leaving them to simply cast thoughtful glances back and forth as her words were considered. One, the chemist, looked over to the other three, to their unnoficial leader whom, by his movements, the chemist already knew what was being planned. He'd heard the priestess' words and things were about to get interesting. "Alright," he responded, letting go of Katelyn's arm. With a quick look and a nod the archer did so a moment later. Not exactly the picture of gentlemen, one eagerly took Katelyn's white robe as she stripped it from her body, the other snatching her underwear from the ground. And like that, of her own will, the buxom blonde priestess was left completely revealed to all who would care to see. "Haha, oh shit, see that? She IS just as hairy as the underwear!" "Whoa, hey - haha, you're right! Hey man, that's kinda hot." Meanwhile, the other three, a pair of thieves and a squire, were approaching Jenifer and the man. One of the thieves was coming from the large man's right, Jenifer's left, a curved dagger finding its way from a brown leather sheath to a similarly gloved palm. "Don't worry, I've got this," he said with a twinkle in his eye and a devious little grin aimed at the redhead. He stopped beside the merchant, looking to her, swirling the handle in his gloved palm. "It's already over." And then he made his move. Dashing left, the curved blade first found home in the man's side, in a lovely bit of fat below his ribs. The surprised shout of pain that followed was brief - a knee was kicked in, his hair was gripped and jerked back an his throat was slit, all in one fluid motion. Like that his body was released to slump forward, writhing around on the ground for a few seconds, grasping as his throat before his body no longer could go on. Once the twitching stopped the rest proceeded as if he weren't a man, as if he had been a deer in the forest, an animal killed for its bounty. "Slick. I didn't even make it 'ere 'n you had him down." The other of the three simply whistled. The thief knelt down beside the body once the merchant stopped twitching. There was no fear of recourse. Dorter was a city of slums without laws; the only 'punishment' would be if this man had friends who would spend enough coin to get them back, which was unlikely. Cleaning his curved dagger against the man's clothes, he cast a quick glance up to the redhead before looking back to the slain merchant, feeling around in his pockets for the gil. "Hey there... nice tits," commented the other thief, his eyes gone back to Katelyn. "Chilly, sweetheart?" he said with a grin. "Though I suppose you've earned this. And here, you've been an awfully good sport." Pulling the green cloth hat from his pocket, the one he'd stashed there with her promised gil at the start of the fight, the man added a second handful to the pile. He walked over to the priestess, and with a smile and a blown kiss he held ut the upturned hat with her coin inside. "Give her back her clothes, as much as I hate to see a pretty thing like this cover up," he continued, glancing quickly over to Jenifer before looking back to his friends. They could take the two of them, sure, but it would be better not to continue this scene. It would be best to get what they could from the guy's body and clear out. "Unless... hey, you ladies busy?" he asked with a grin. "We could getawfullyfriendly with the gil this guy is givin' us..."

Jenifer was growling, bow at the ready when she saw a few people start to approach. "One shot is all it will take for any of you..." she whispered, more to reassure herself than to threaten anyone. She braced for the attack to come, drew her bowstring back... and found herself suddenly without an opponent, the man slumping over injured before she had a chance to attack him. "H..HEY. That was MY kill!" she spouted off, highly disappointed. Kate nearly screamed when the underhanded attack so quickly dropped the man, and she rushed to the man's side as his injuries slowly took him, "H..hey. I just didn't want this to be an unfair fight, not a slaughter... what is it with this town... you people..." she whispered in quiet horror at how casually someone would be murdered. It wasn't that Kate had never killed anyone before, but war was always different to her. She gave Jenifer a long stare that the archer instantly knew, the slender woman merely shrugging it off, "Whatever." A gentle healing spell would be all it took to keep the man from dying, though he would be in no condition to fight again anytime soon. Kate blushed darkly as lewd comments and teasing was hurled at her, but she could never stand idly and just let death occur if she could try to stop it... no matter the battle, she always tried to heal those that were on the brink, returning them to a point they could recover. "y..you bastards are evil..." Kate called back meekly at the dirty words over her while she knelt beside the dying man and recited some of her spells, sounding to the untrained like prayers for the dead. Her hands resting over him to check if he would make it, before she turned to snatch up that hat full of coins, a furious look on her face. "Uhm, 'scuse me guys, but... WHY do you have my friend prancing around the center of town nude?" Jenifer finally blurted out, very obvious amusement on her face now that the pig of a merchant was dealt with. "As nice as her tits are." Jenifer added, throwing her arms around her friend's bust, half to seem playful to the guys, half to cover her friend's decency by some small margin while she spoke, "I can't imagine her doing this without being coerced." The two women stood there together, Kate holding the small handful of coins and Jenifer holding Kate's breasts from behind, as the two both quietly hoped that the group would actually return the priestess' robes before the spectacle got any worse, Kate's rather gruff reply to their offer spouted angrily before she had her robes back, "No thanks, I've endured YOUR brand of friendliness firsthand long enough!"

At seeing the redhead getting grabby toward her friend, wrapping an arm around the naked blonde's generous bust, the men all seemed to grin in unison. Some were enjoying the visual of the naked priestess being touched by another female. Some were simply enjoying the bared curves, and the still exposed crotch. None answered right away. For a few long seconds the only sound came from the one thief knelt beside the injured merchant, robbing the man's pockets blind while he as too hurt to move. "You're right," he called out over his shoulder, "buddy had more an' a hundred here. Not bad, not bad! There's gotta be six, six an' a half here close to. ...split five ways that ain't a bad payday." The other four cast knowing smiles to one another, though never took their eyes off the girls for long. Split five ways. That was very clear; and if the ladies wanted to dispute that they would find themselves sorely outnumbered. "Coerced, of course, but not forced," one of the men replied to Jenifer, though his eyes, and the wink in them were aimed at Katelyn. "She's a very pretty woman, pretty enough that when she went about asking for gil we thought we'd do the respectable thing and give her a chance t' earn some. ...She got what she wanted, and we got what we did. Matter of fact, she's still being generous enough to give us that show." Everyone laughed at that, leering at Katelyn's body still. The one silenced them with a raised hand though, reaching to take the woman's robe and underwear from his comrades. "Here," he said, balling them up togther and tossing them to the priestess, "all yours, sweetcheeks. A shame, though. I mean, like my one friend said, with all that gil maybe we could talk you ladies into an encore performance? Somewhere private, of course." "If not," the one thief interrupted, knelt down by the merchant still, "then we should get outta here, guys, regardless. Drawin' a crowd here ain't doin' us any good. Did you give her back her stuff?" "Yeah, she's got it." "Good," he said, patting the merchant's pockets in a quick, final check that he didn't miss anything. The man's rings and necklace had also been pocketed in addition to the gil, some promising to fetch a better price than others. Standing, he turned to the group, "So what do you ladies wanna do? Go your own way or we all go have a private party? Either way it ain't gonna do us much good to hang 'round here much longer, if you know what I mean."

Katelyn sighed in relief as she snatched her robes back and quickly threw them on, still blushing a dark red, while Jenifer seemed to actually be giving the men's offer some thought as she poked her nose in the small hat of coins they were given. Kate quickly turned to leave only for Jen to snatch her by the arm and spin her round again, demanding boldly at the group, "You owe my friend a lot more than this. And that man was my mark. So let's compromise. A small party, and then we make it an even split with both of us getting a share. Sound fair enough?" The priestess gave her friend a menacing stare, and tried to protest, only to get yanked along anyhow, archer girl leading the way as she bolted past the group of common thugs and led the group away from the scene of the fight. "What are you doing!?" was all Kate could muster when they were a few steps ahead, an angry whisper between the two of them. "Don't worry about it. You'll keep your robes on this time, unless you enjoyed showing off. But that much money would go a long way towards our future. All for getting naked in front of a few thugs, when most bastards around here wouldn't give you twenty gil for a blowjob?... Yeah, we're desperate enough for it... I saw your coinpurse. The reason you didn't jump to buy the map is because we're broke." It was a quiet understanding between them that they were doing this, as long as nothing went too far... as they slowed again and let the thugs lead them to where that private showing would take place at.

Excellent. The archer's interest hadn't truly been expected. Not really expected due to the heat of the moment, she likely still angry and her friend uncomfortable, but nowadays it wasn't nearly a surprise either. Simply a pleasant turn of the coin. None of the men had the chance to say anything before the two women had bolted through and past them, leaving them in a hurried walk in their wake. What little they were able to converse while Katelyn and Jenifer were up ahead was simply getting on the same page, hushed tones of depraved men all looking upon these women, and these women's desperation, as an opportunity to enjoy themselves and nothing more. There were a few light laughs from the group as they watched the two girls a number of steps ahead of them, even a brief conversation as to who had the nicer ass. Jenifer won that, though mostly because her outfit was somewhat tight while the priestess' was more loose and flowing; none had really gotten a good look at Kate's ass while she was nude, too busy enjoying the frontal view of her hairy bush and milkmaid tits. "We're quite glad you've decided we can all be friends, ladies," the one thief chimed in, having increased his pace a bit to catch up with the two. Grinning, he slid his hands around each woman's waist, from behind, coming to stand between the two. Three of the other men were keeping a decent distance, enjoying the view of the girls' hips swaying with every step. The last of them, the archer, hung back a bit to kepe an eye out, making sure no one thought wise to follow the group. "You see, we really are a nice bunch once you get to know us. And we're just gonna go somewhere where we don't gotta deal with no one botherin' us while we build that friendship, right? I got just the place. It ain't Beoulve Manor or anything but it ain't too shabby either. Thing is though, we're gonna hafta blindfold you on the way there. For everyone's protection, yours 'n ours both. That alright, ladies?" He didn't wait for an answer however, removing his arm from around Jenifer once he was done talking to raise his hand in a quick gesture, signaling to his friends. The chemist jogged up to the three with a pair of cloth scraps in his hands. They were long, a dark blue, ratty scraps torn from the hem of his ratty jerkin. Handing one over, he came up behind Jenifer to tie the length over her eyes, wrapping it twice around, while the thief took the honor of blinding the priestess. As he did he leaned over, whispering against her ear, "My apologies, pretty girl, if we were a bit... rude back there. Perhaps once we're someplace quieter we won't have to rush as much, and you'll have a better chance to see how fun we can really be..." Smiling wickedly, once both girls were blindfolded he made sure to take each by a wrist, standing between them. He leaned to Jenifer next, whispering in her ear just as he had with Kate, "It doesn't necessarily have to be an even split. Depending how much fun you ladies wanna have tonight, we might be willin' to part with the whole thing." How they responded was up to them. Were they smart, were they intelligent enough to seize such an opportunity for over six hundred gil in just a couple of hours if they played nice they'd end up in a better position than most these days. For now they both had time to think while the men led them down the streets of Dorter's slums, a left here, two rights there, keeping a brisk pace while at the same time making sure to take wrong turns. At one point they completely turned around just to throw off any sense of direction in case either woman was trying to keep track; the worst thing a thief could do was let an outsider know where their hideout was. That it existed was no real surprise, but showing someone where to find the place you hung your hat was near suicidal in such a world. Three more rights, a left, then several more blocks until they turned inside an old store, a strong scent permeating the moment the filthy wood and glass door was opened. It was either good cheese or bad wine. Whatever it was, the intention was to keep people away from the quiet shop. Nary a word was spoken among the group aside after the first minute or so of the women being led, they generally quiet as they brought the girls through the streets and into the shop, to the shop's back room, to the store room in the cellar, down a flight of stairs, and finally to a hidden room behind a wall that a large, spiderweb-covered shelf had to be moved in order for the entrance to appear. Once everyone was inside the shelf was slid, albeit noisily, back into place, shutting the group of seven in what was the mens' hangout for when they needed to lay low. "Woo... ha. Alright, alright, madams, we are here," one said with a playful grin. Two others came up to help the girls off with their blindfolds. The room was a decent size all things considered, though for the amount of people it was seemingly designed for it could get crowded pretty quick; and with the seven of them, more or less was. Twelve feet by twelve, there were eight beds in total, four sets of wooden-framed bunk beds to save space, two against one wall and two more against another. Under each bed was stored several small barrels and aleskins. Diagonally across from the beds was a table set in a corner against two walls, playing cards, dice, and other ways to pass the time strewn upon the wood. The floor was of a poor quality wood, not completely even but not horrid by Dorter's standards of housing either. The only light was from several lit torches set in sconces along the walls. All in all the room was hot, the air stale, dirty as a whole, and if more than two or three people were standing at any given time it had a very crowded feel. The men had agreed to no names on the way here; the blonde seemed pretty dense but they weren't sure yet about the redhead. So they simply addressed each other with gestures or looks. "Help me pull out some beer," said one to another. A third took a seat on one of the lower cots, patting beside him as he looked to Katelyn with a warm, welcoming smile. Perhaps too warm. A fourth simply patted his lap as he took a seat on another cot, eyes on Jen. The fifth pushed dice and cards to the far end of the rickety wooden table so he could hop up, sitting on the edge, legs hanging over the side. It was the fifth, the second thief who sat on the table and who spoke up, smile as wide as a mile, "So, either of you ladies a good dancer?"

The two girls begrudgingly accepted the blindfolds, Jenifer with a bit more enthusiasm to the arm around her waist than Kate. The priestess' curt reply to the offer for more was a rather blatant, "I'm only playing along for my friend. I have no intention of being any 'friendlier' than we were back at that ghastly scene earlier." Jen's reply significantly less negative and far more teasing, she leaned towards the voice and whispered back, "Well depending on just how much fun you want tonight, you better count it up again, because it might not be enough to pay for THAT kind of fun." Jenifer already knew that there were going to be twists and turns, counting a few paces here and there, enough that if they desperately needed to find this place again, she'd have some hope of guessing where it was, though Kate, of course, was utterly lost. Soon the two had moved down into the tiny hideout and Jenifer merely began to chuckle. "All of that secrecy and you had a hidden room?" she asked after the blindfold was removed. "You could've just brought us into the basement and treated it like an abandoned building, and we'd be none the wiser when we left, guessing you probably hid stolen goods here until they sold on the market." Kate merely tried to cover herself as she quietly took a seat, hoping to avoid the gaze of the men any further, she attempted to move as tightly as she could against one of the walls she sat beside, mumbling under her breath about her partner. When asked to dance, Jenifer spoke up again with her carefree laughter, "boys, boys. If you wanted to dance, you should've taken us someplace with music... After all, how suspicious must it be for an empty building to be playing wildly because you wanna see if I'll... maybe slip my clothes off a bit to a rousing tune..." as she spoke, she undid her chestguard, though it was more armor than fashion, she rarely was without it, for not having anyplace else to put it, and it did help for the occasional skirmishes that broke out around own like the one this group had just left. Without the chestpiece of her clothes to hold it all tight, the upper half of her outfit was slightly ill fitting and hanging off of her slender body, making her seem almost like a child wearing her mother's skimpy dress as she spun round a few times playfully, not so much as a dance, but to tease the group about their suggestion of dancing, before she spotted the one patting his lap, and playfully slung herself across his legs, one armed wrapped around his shoulders while she arched back and showed off to the others. Kate meanwhile couldn't help but look to the man who had finally returned her clothes, whispering softly, "Is this really what happens to mercenaries without a nobleman to order them around? Are you really this far gone that you can't stand up and make something better of this town?" She knew the answer as soon as she asked it, glancing at herself and Jenifer. If this were during the war, she would've cracked Jenifer on the head with her staff for even suggesting going with this group, and to come here herself was unthinkable after what they'd done to her. But here she sat, with the very people who humiliated her in front of the town, bold enough to strip and fondle her, and make dirty sex jokes, about a priestess no less, while she willingly was led to their hideout. "j...just don't get too bold... we are not mere prostitutes who will sell our bodies for a few hundred gil..." Kate finally said in a defeated tone. "Oh relax already. They had their fun with you before and they'll probably ask me to do the same. These boys just want to enjoy a few soft touches and some pretty women in their company... perhaps without clothes. I doubt any of them will give up a hundred gil just to have sex with one of us when there's plenty of cheap hookers back in town, and nicer places to have them at than this." Jenifer muttered, lifting herself back into a sitting position, her legs sprawled to straddling the man's lap she sat on and her short dress lifted enough to show off her furry panties while her dress was on the brink of falling off her narrow shoulders. She leaned back into the man she was sitting on and giggled again softly, "No offense, of course."

"None taken," he replied with a wicked grin and a growing arousal beneath Jenifer's furry panties. All of them were grinning at this point, completely relaxed from the events of only a few minutes ago, both the way things could have gone and the way things did. Everyone was relaxed, the eyes of some on the slow, tantalizing gyrations of the redhead, and the eyes of others on the blonde whose buxom beauty was still ingrained in each their minds. "Soft touches," he echoed her words from a moment before, looking to Jenifer, looking into her eyes, his grin understandably larger than the others'. "Mmm... and you're right, you can't dance without music. I suppose we could convince someone here to beat a rhythm on one of the barrels, maybe go find a flute or guitar to pluck some strings if you'd like something to dance to. But if you're not the kinda gal that likes to dance while she takes off her clothes..." Leather gloved palms came up to each of Jenifer's knees, sliding up, sliding up the smooth lengths of her thighs to rest open palms on either hip. Grinning, he continued, flickering torchlight illuminating them both, "Then maybe you could just grind some, eh?" With that he pulled her hips downward, urging her crotch down against his, inviting the woman to feel the erection separated from her only by her furry panties, and by the man's few layers of clothes. "Got 'em - alright, here," one of the others piped in, the squire, he and the archer having been knelt down to retrieve aleskins from beneath one of the beds. He handed one to the chemist sitting with Kate, tossed another across the room to land on the bed beside where Jen was straddling one of the thieves, tossed a third to the other thief on the table, and helped the archer come to a stand with a few more. "Some good, fermented beers there," he said as he popped one open, lifting it on high to take a good, solid swig. Maybe two swigs. No reason to skimp on the fun. "What's the matter?" the one chemist asked Katelyn in a hushed tone. He took the aleskin handed to him to then set on the blonde's lap, He didn't care what was the matter. Like hell he did. This bitch simply had to loosen up, one way or another. He leaned in, warm breath dancing upon the skin of her neck first before his lips made contact, kissing the soft skin, meanwhile a hand moved to rest on her knee, fingers toying with the fabric of her white robe. The squire plopped down on the other side of her, youthful and grinning, content to sit there with his beer and watch. For the moment. The archer took a hearty pull from his skin as he went over to the table, leaning against it, coming to stand behind the other man and join him in watching Jen. Specifically, in watching the bared skin of her shoulders as that oversized clothing threatened to slip off with every little gyration... mmm... though, the brief glimpses of her furry panties were fighting hard for their attention. "A hundred gil, huh? Is that what you want?" the thief whispered while gazing in the redhead's eyes, smiling, smiling wide. His voice was low, as if a private, intimate conversation, "That's do-able, you know, pretty thing... One-fifty if everyone here gets to have his fun... Two if you get your friend to loosen up 'n play some too." He leaned in to kiss her, forcing his tongue to part the thin woman's lips, tasting her, savoring the sweet feel. The ratio of women to men on the battlefield wasn't very good; often enough you were surrounded by nothing but other guys for months at a time, and when you did happen to be grouped with a woman she was getting paid, and had no need to work for your coin. Nowadays though there were a million hookers in Dorter, women who would do whatever was asked for a third of this price, but there was just something about women who weren't whores... women who didn't do this as a daily routine, or at least didn't seem as if they did. That made it all the more naughtier. That made it all the more fun. Breaking the kiss after a few seconds he then reached to grab the aleskin on the mattress next to them. Pressing it to the loose fabric covering Jenifer's chest in an invitation to get piss fucking drunk with them that night, he simply looked to her, that same wide-lipped expression seemingly plasted on his face, "Whaddya say?"

Kate felt those touches against her body and began to recoil, bumping hard into the squire when she felt that kiss, "please don't..." she whispered to him, blushing darkly as she tried to pull her garments along with her. "I hardly know you other than as the guys who stripped me nude in the center of a town... and... I'd... I honestly dislike you...." she said softly, as if it was the greatest insult she could muster, even as she found herself suddenly sandwiched between the two men. The priestess' robes were shifted and moved as she slid over and tried to cover herself, but the outline of her body against the white fabric was only being made more obvious as she moved, ample breasts clearly outlined, her still firm nipples seen in the fabric by torchlight. "I... promised I'd play along... but only the same as outside... if.. you try anything else, we're leaving immediately... understand?" Kate said softly, blushing in shame as she actually agreed to the man's advances, a quick motion snatched the alcohol that she downed freely, not having ever drunk heavily herself, she knew that many people did so to hide their troubles, and hoped this would work for her as well... Jenifer blushed when she felt the sudden hands spreading her legs hard and that erection against her pussy. She smiled around the group and giggled softly, uncertain, a little scared even, as she let her dress' top begin to slip down, showing off her modest B-cups to the men around her, "mh.. remember... not too far..." she whispered softly, "As long as it's not too far, everyone gets to have their fun..." The young girl took the wineskin and gave it a quick gulp, groaning and holding it away from herself at arm's length, "Eeew, what is this?" she said between her timid giggling, a nervous habit she couldn't break while she was surrounded like this. "It's awful..." she said, before bringing it back to her lips for another quick, hard drink, "EEew.. urgh...how do you drink that stuff..." Jen smiled at the men as her dress bundled around her hips, showing off most of her slender body, her small nipples excited, and she reached down to pull her undergarments aside enough to show off her young, perfectly hairless pussy, trimmed amazingly well as she grinned to the guys, "So what's the hundred gil party... and what's the hundred fifty gil party... and what's the six hundred gil party?" she asked teasingly, winking and blowing a kiss at a couple of the guys who were staring at her.

At being told hey were 'disliked' the two men sandwiching Kate could only snicker, bemused sounds trickling lightly from their throats. "I can live with that," the squire shot back, "I've been called a lot worse." Meanwhile the other man, the chemist, continued to kiss the tender skin of Kate's pale neck, caring nothing of her hesitant recoiling. "So just what we agreed to before?" he whispered, open palm coming to cup Katelyn's left breast through the white fabric of her robe. He was in no way shy in his touch, palming her large breast, his fingers stretched fully to encompass the heavenly globe. "Before you were naked..." he continued to whisper, that hand leaving Kate's chest after a few seconds of fondling to slide down, down to the hem of her robe. But instead of pull it off himself he'd leave that to her; for now his hand slid back up once he found the bottom, up and inside, up the priestess' smooth, pale leg, up past the waistband of her panties to then let his warm palm caress her flat, smooth belly. "Mmm, and you were very gorgeous," he spoke between light kisses, that daring hand daring a little further still, delving down the front of her furry panties. Caressing her thick, womanly bush with his fingers spread wide. The squire grinned as he watched. Taking another good swig of his aleskin, he then decided to reach to his crotch, shoving the front of his pants down a little just enough to pull his dick out, a decently sized erect cock and balls with a small patch of dark hairs at their base. The sight before him was great fun, her body, how she was being touched, knowing he'd get to see her naked again soon. How she acted like she didn't want this, but he knew she fucking did. So he stroked himself, his dick out shamelessly, grinning in enjoyment of the preshow. On the other side of the small room the men were laughing at how the redhead recoiled from the skin, only to then take another hearty drink. "It's beer," called out one of the men by the table. "Ain't taste too good but it'll get you in a fun mood quick!" "God, what a fuckin'cunt," the other spoke out in admiration when Jenifer pulled the furry fabric aside to show off her cleanly shaven little snatch. The words came a little louder than intended, but at that realiztion the man only grinned to her, taking another swig of his ale. "Thesix hundredgil party," the man beneath her groaned out, smiling wide, quite enjoying her topless, lithe form squriming about atop his erect member, "mmhnn...That'sif you an' your friend over there hang out with us, doin' whatever we want...whereverwe want," a word he emphasized by moving a hand from Jen's hip around to her ass, taking advantage of the pulled aside panties to rub a fingertip playfully against the redhead's pert little asshole. This brought a hearty laugh from the two others watching. "With us... with each other... and that party don't end 'til the sun comes up..." "Hey, spin 'er around," called one of the others. "Let us get a look at those tits." It was a request easily obliged. The thief's hands both went back to Jenifer's hips where he encouraged her to spin around, her bare back to him now, b-cup breasts exposed to the room. Both men at the table had their eyes plastered fully on her small, but still attractive chest. The thief's hands continued their attention to her body, one taking firm grip of her long red hair to pull it back, to guide her head back so his lips could lay soft bites at the base of her neck. His other hand delved down between her thighs, urging them apart, inviting her to retake that straddling position, simply facing away. His gloved palm rubbed firmly against the furry crotch of Jen's panties, as a simply, heady whisper left his lips, "Grind..."

Kate whimpered a bit at her breasts being groped again, hands rubbing against her and suddenly diving beneath her robes and into her panties, fingers spreading her pussy slowly... It was humiliating to just let these thugs do this to her... all for a pittance of a few hundred gil. Her face flushed in hatred and detest at everyone in the room, as she gently reached down and lifted her robes, first showing off the man's fingers across her nethers, then her ample breasts coming into view as she tossed her robes behind her, angrily looking away, as if not watching what was done to her would somehow save her some embarassment. "f..fine... just..." she stopped with nothing else to say. What could she say, after all? 'don't touch me?', 'don't go too far?', 'be a gentleman?', nothing that came to mind were anything this filthy lot would live up to, as she merely whimpered in growing shame, hoping they could already get their money and leave... Jenifer was in fairly good spirits though, a bit lightheaded after her drink, it was affecting her rather strongly, and she only giggled when the man called out about her cunt, making her lift her hips and show it off a little more, "Ya really like it?" she asked a little teasingly. She quickly spun round, sliding her panties off as she did, and her dress tossed aside next, so she found herself legs splayed and nude but for her boots as her hips began to move, rubbing up and down across that thick bulging cock that was still in the man's pants. "mh.. that feels really strangely good.." she whispered, growing hot in the face as she moaned ever so softly. "Ah... but I don't think my friend would enjoy the six hundred gil party... how about one fifty?" she asked, growing a little more bold from the alcohol as she rubbed her breasts slowly with one hand and spread her pussy lips with the other, modesty and common sense long gone from the foolish archer girl as she arched from the touches and the lips on her neck.

The man's hand was gone, buried beneath her panties now, outstretched fingers stroking through the thick blonde curls existing as proof of Katelyn's womanhood. His eyes were closed; he didn't need them to see. His lips kissed tenderly at the nape of her neck while his fingers delved downward still, down to spread her vaginal lips and to run a finger along her hot pink slit. "Relax," he whispered, lifting the aleskin to her with his other hand, urging her to take another drink. "Ain't gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. Just the opposite. We wanna be all nice to you, is all." The other man seemed content in enjoying the show, at least for the moment. His dick was out over the top of his pants with his warm palm robbing the length in slow, relaxed strokes. The squire's eyes went between Katelyn's lovely, luscious bosom down to the furry panties still covering her crotch, grinning, knowing full well what his friend was doing by the raised fabric over the man's hand. Eventually he grew bold enough to scoot closer to the pair, right up next to Kate, then to a half kneel in front of her, between her legs. The squire's hand left his dick to travel up the priestess' smooth, bare leg, up the back of her calf and past her knee. Up over her thigh and her panties, across her stomach, up to her left breast, which he gave a gentle squeeze. To her right he leaned in, kissing the warm, supple skin of her nipple. "See?" the chemist continued in a gentle voice against the timid woman's ear. "Priestesses are such lovely, forgiving women, aren't they? Maybe you can forgiveusfor what happened back there?" He urged the aleskin to her hands again, favoring the idea of getting the woman at least tipsy. She needed the help to relax. "Can my friend take your panties off? He was pretty naughty back there, wasn't he? I'm sure he'd like a chance to show you how sorry he is." Another kiss to her neck. Then he cast a quick look down to the squire, "This one is a lady.You have to ask her nicely." And instantly he was back to kissing along the nape of Katelyn's neck, slowly, from her shoulder to her throat, up to just below her ear. "Mmm," the squire chimed in, kneeling in front of her, his lips wrapped appreciatively around the woman's right nipple. "May I?" he asked after a few seconds, saliva glistening upon her areola when he removed his lips to look up at her, a mischevious little smile on his crooked little face. "May I,please?" He made sure to breathe on Jenifer's neck, letting his warm breath dancing upon her skin. There was no doubt to how much the woman was enjoying it from the way she arched her body and grinded down against him, and any encouragement to take his offer right now seemed entirely pivotal. "You strike me as a fun girl, you know," the thief continued in his whisperings, a hand moving to massage the breast Jen hadn't taken to herself. He squeezed her supple skin gently, very gently, rolling his fingers around the woman's tit, able to appreciate it despite Katelyn's completely bared only a few feet away. "Veryfun." His other hand dipped fingers into her hair, into red strands at the back of her head, silently urging her to lull back as far as her head could go. After a second his arms tightened around her, shifting her body some, just a bit, just enough to move her head from his right shoulder to his left, allowing the warm breaths and tender nibbles to grace the other side of her neck now. "Maybe... mm," he murmured, smiling. "Maybe we can come to a fair agreement later, depending on your friend... looks to me like she's doin' alright over there. And so long as you're willing to pick up any slack, I don't see why this party's gotta end 'til we've all had our fill." He turned Jenifer's head to his to kiss her again, lips hungry, his mind filled with a heady lust, struggling to even think of negotiating still. Those lovely gyrations. He couldn't help but moan into her mouth. His fingers left her hair when the kiss broke, soon replaced by another though, and another after that, to move down to the archer's fit, firm abdomen, caressing her belly. The other men simply watched, sitting against the table, grinning, joking between themselves, mostly in hushed tones. One reached down to snatch Jen's discarded panties while the other took a heavy drink. Standing again, leaning back against the table, he was in no way shy in taking a long, solid whiff of her scent, grinning and staring at the bald little twat she was so generously spreading with her fingers. "Which hole do you think you want?" he could be heard saying to the other man as they exchanged items, one taking up the aleskin and the other checking out the worn undergarments for himself. Neither spoke again right away, simply grinning, enjoying the show.

Kate shivered in quiet disgust as those fingers played inside her panties, making her twist and writhe while quietly cursing these men... though in word alone. Those kisses down her neck as she was offered another drink soon had her downing the rest of the flask in hopes she could forget all of this by the next morning, her face flushing with oncoming drunkenness while the squire stroked his cock before her and enjoyed watching her nearly nude body. Unable to relax or stop squirming at the unwanted attention, Kate felt herself moaning as the squire's hands caressed her breasts, and the chemist's fingers were making her pussy dripping wet. The man's words deceitful, but Katelyn could only nod and whisper weakly, "I.. fo..forgive you for what you've done... but please... stop now then..." she asked gently, head lowered in shame as those licks over her breasts made her nipples hard. She looked down at the younger man between her legs as a couple tears rolled down her cheeks, "please don't..." she asked him softly, feeling those kisses on her neck. She hesitated, mouthing softly again, "please don't..." before she said in a hushed whisper, "If you must... then you may..." Her own fingers sliding down and beginning to lower her panties for them, knowing she would soon be bared once more. Jenifer ever so close was moaning like a cheap hooker for the men, not to turn them on, but because of her hazed mind from the drink and those eager touches. Her body was hot and excited and her scent was screaming that she was ready, even if she wasn't quite there. Panting from the buildup, her body feeling like it was on fire, Jen whimpered weakly, shaking her head, "I ah.. nnh.d..don't... don't...oooh..." if it would've just been left at that, Jenifer would've agreed without further hesitation, but she overheard the two other men nearby, her mind snapping back to attention for a hectic second, "w..wait... wait a minute... I... no! I d..don't want to go that far...mh...p..please, I'd much rather just take a hundred gil and be on my way... may..maybe.. coming here was a bad idea..." she said softly, trying to stand and pry herself away from everyone nearby, her eyes darting to the exit so she could hopefully escape, not even stopping to think of Katelyn yet, nor the fact she was stark naked.

He must. She had promised to strip to the degree she had been in the street, and in the street she had bared her thick, hairy bush to the world, not to mention the lovely pale ass sitting atop her thighs. The squire was all too willing to assist Katelyn in removing her panties, letting the priestess begin lowering them first before taking the waistband from her fingers to guide them the rest of the way. He slid the furry fabric down her thighs, down her calves, gently taking each of the woman's ankles to lift her booted feet enough to slide her underwear off. Though he didn't stop there, guiding Katelyn's left foot a bit higher once the panties had cleared the end of her boot. He brought her foot up and over his shoulder, letting it drape over back, scooting in close so that her knee was over his shoulder and her crotch now wonderfully close to his face. The other foot wasn't soon after, guided up to rest her knee over his other shoulder, however the panties hadn't been completely removed, instead left to dangle around the ankle of that second boot, behind his back. "See? He'sveryhelpful," the chemist whispered against her neck. "And isn't he being gentle with you? Like some kinda gentleman, right? Mmm, see, if you let us treat you nice, Miss Beautiful, we will." He placed his palms on either of Kate's shoulders to steady her in place for a moment. Shifting from his spot on the bed, the man moved so that he was sitting behind the blonde, directly behind, the hands on her shoulders guiding her now to lean back against his chest. "Relax, relaaaxx... your friend is having fun, right? And so are we. And so are you. Everyone here is having a real good time." A hand sought to guide Katelyn's chin to a side, his lips finding hers with a tender eagerness. Kissing her. Soothing her. And once he had her locked in that loving touch both hands slid down to her chest, to her bosom, eager to appreciate the fine rack her body was gifted with. Palming her breasts, kneading her tits like handfuls of supple dough. Making sure to catch a nipple between a thumb and forefinger, making sure to give it a firm little rub. The squire hadn't hesitated for a moment. Hands were all over Kate's body at this point. His palms stroked along the outside of her thighs, moving upward, moving to her hips where they could stretch to encompass her pale, lovely backside. "Mmm," he murmured to himself as he lowered his face into her crotch, eyes closed, smirking at the tickle of her pubes and inhaling at the closeness of her feminine scent. No further words came. Simply lips. Simply tongue. He kissed at the priestess' shy little snatch, snaking his tongue out to glide up the length of her slit. Whoa, whoa, sweetie," the thief spoke hastily to Jen in a friendly, but quick-paced tone, reaching out for her when she tried to get up. He wasn't forceful, not in a harsh way, not yet, but he was firm in how he grabbed her waist and guided her back to sit again on his lap, on his eager bulge. "Not so fast. Heeeyy, don't be afraid," he tried to soothe her, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other reached to her crotch, firmly petting that bald, aching little cunt. "We're having fun. We're all having fun, aren't we? Mm, come on." A kiss to her jaw. Then another, his voice soft, trying to calm and to negotiate. "You're a pretty girl, aren't you?" Another kiss to her jaw. The petting at the apex of Jenifer's thighs quickly turned into a digit sliding up into that moist, textured hole. "They just like you, that's all... Don't be shy... And you can't get everyone all excited like this 'n then leave 'em all blueballed, can you?" One of the men from the table came over to hold out his aleskin to Jen. "Here. We're all just havin' us some fun, eh, right? You can have as much as you like." In case she finished hers. In case it would loosen her any further than she already was. The other man was busy undoing his pants, sliding them down, sliding them off, his own thick, rock-solid cock coming into view. The tip glistened with a heavy amount of precum, no doubt a window into how lustful his desires currently were. "Look at that. Mmm. See your friend over there? That shy little thing, even she's havin' a good time... makin' out with one'a my boys, gettin' her pussy eaten. Even she's havin' a good time. You're free to relax." Another kiss to her jaw. "See that?" Another. "How about this. How about you tell me what you wanna do, baby. Are you ok with it in here?" The glistening digit slid from Jen's bald cunt back to her puckered asshole, rubbing in a slow, firm circle. A few seconds later his palm went back to cup her crotch again, finger slid back inside her hot, wet vagina, a second finger sliding in with it to explore her textured depths. "Mmm, or maybe just here if you don't wanna? ...You gotta at least let us haveonehole." Another kiss. "A bunch moregriiinndiin', a bunch moredriiinnkiin', mmhh, and then you kneel down 'n blow 'n jerk a couple'a guys off. You can handle swallowing a couple loads, can't you, baby? That ain't too unfair now, is it?"

Both girls quickly began to realize just how far the men wanted this 'party' to go, much to their regret in coming here. Though Jen realized it first, Katelyn's realization wasn't far behind. She let her panties slide off and her legs soon wrapped around the squire's head, with the chemists's arms soon around her as well. Those fingers, grabbing at her large, firm breasts, kneading slowly, working her nipple, it sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine, only deepening her disgrace, as suddenly her wet folds felt their first lick, an overeager tongue working against her so suddenly brought what she was holding in to the surface. Kate gave a desperate moan of unwanted pleasure, her voice growing loud without meaning to, "OOooooooh ooh mh..." Cheeks flushed with utter shame and humiliation at the pleasured sounds she just made, Katelyn began to struggle weakly, squirming in the arms around her and one of her hands lowering, putting her palm against the squire's forehead and gently trying to get him away from her wet pussy. "p.plea..ooh.please..mmh..s.stop.. I nnh..d.d...d...OOOOOOOOOH.... don't want this!" she spoke in a whisper between loud moans and whimpers, obviously desperate to get away now, but unable to bring herself to actually force her way free. Jen at least was more forceful with her struggles, finding the man's lips suddenly against hers as she pulled him back down got his lip bitten. The finger against her pussy showed that despite her protests, she was excited as well, dripping wet and eager, even if she wasn't. His rubbing sent her into her own drunken moans as she tried to put her hand against his chest, both for support and to push him away, "I d.don't want anymore of your drink..." The archer girl could see other men undoing their pants and hard dicks moving closer to her, and she shook her head firmly, trying to clear away what drink she'd already had. "Nh..I.. oh.. I wannt... I wanna... get out of this room... it's stifling..." she said quickly to his question, even as her backside was teased. When that finger moved back to her pussy again, her knees nearly buckled, two thick digits in her slender body, and she was nearly on the edge of an orgasm as his words rang in her ears, 'griiindin' she heard, "kneel down 'n blow 'n jerk a couple'a guys off..." she winced. All she meant to do was get naked and tease the guys a bit, and this was fast getting beyond her. Finally using a bit more force, she roughly forced herself off of the man's lap, trying to slip past the other men quickly and get to their hideout's little exit. She wasn't thinking of going out into the town stark naked, or that she'd be leaving her friend behind in a bad situation that she helped cause, she just wanted out... and fast... before she was on these men's menu.

Jared hummed a bit along to the music in his car radio as he made his way over the little makeshift road that led to the desolate little patch of land that laid in the middle of the sea. It was a pretty calm song, and he wished the radio would play something with a bit more go in it - lord knew he was in a fantastic mood and wanted some music to emphasize it. What had happened was nothing short of amazing when it came down to it - and that he was getting a chance to investigate it first hand, that HE was picked over so many other volunteers was just mindblowing. He couldn't have been happier as he finally saw the land stretch a bit and stopped the car close to the little road - hardly more than a trodden path, really - and started to get out his bag from the trunk. What had him in such a joyous uproar? Why, simple - a meteorite had landed in this area. A hunk of rock from outer space, and he had been chosen to go retrieve a sample. He would be the first to see, touch and examine an outer space phenomenon. When you came from a town as small as his, any event was fantastic, but this, without a doubt, beat them all. Putting on his white cap, it arranged his dark purple hair neatly on each side of his head as it reached the middle of his neck. He was a tanned young man, and fit from usually working outside. He had dressed practically, but casually for this - nothing more than a loose t-shirt, a pair of walking boots and some sturdy pants were needed for this trip. The hard part would be to actually find the thing. He didn't have enough gas to just drive around and look, so he'd have to walk. Not that he minded. And thus, he walked along humming some melody that had gotten stuck in his head, without having even the faintest idea what exactly the rock from space had done to this place...

To be sure, no one could have possibly guessed what the space rock might have brought with it, or what effect it might have on the flora and fauna around it. Or, to be more precise, any of the creatures on the 'small' island, which had quite a good number of different Pokemon living upon it. Not too long after the meteor had crashed done near the center of the island did its 'radiation' start irradiating out around the small land mass, effecting every Pokemon it touched in some varying way, mutating them, changing them. To some degree in all of them, they become more human-like, more sentient, and in others still, had the odd effect of messing with their gender-barring chromosomes and anatomy. It didn't take many of them long to know something had changed, and that, for the most part, they were happy with it. Not to mention, different urges and feelings started to fill their minds, while still living how they did before the 'accident'. As Jared would be drawing further and further from his vehicle, he'd start to notice more and more the air grew heavy, almost foretelling of things to come. Another odd thing to note is it, despite entering into the area, the radiation was having no affect on the human's body, almost as if it was tuned to the very 'frequency' of a Pokemon's DNA. Further more, the closer he would be drawing to the area, the more he'd notice signs of life, and, quite possibly in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't have come alone. When the meteor would finally be within view, the male would notice a small lake, which, to anyone's knowledge, hadn't been there before, surrounding it, and by the looks, something was sitting in the water, back to his direction, relaxing, with a large amount of long, flowing white-silver hair, with two very long, pointed ears poking out the top of it.

He did feel it - that sense of the air growing thicker around him, and as a safety measure, he put on a little surgery mask to cover his nose and mouth. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to warn him if it turned out to be poisonous around here and give him plenty of time to run like hell. But it didn't seem to be a problem. He could still breathe perfectly normally, it was just as if there was something more than oxygen in the air, somethingheavy but with no real effect on him. Shrugging, he assumed it was simply some strange fumes from the meteorite that the human eye could not see. He felt like he had been walking for hours when he finally saw a hunk of rock sticking up from the other side of a small hill and with a big grin on his face he ran straight towards it, removing the mask since he had seen absolutely no sign of danger. And there it was. A large, almost glisteningrock the size of a small house had lodged itself firmly into the ground, apparently reaching some water underneath judging from the little lake that surrounded it. It was a miracle this thing hadn't simply knocked the planet out of its course and continued on. It must have hit them dead on with a pointy end. But as he made his way down the hill he noticed something, or rather someone sitting by it. There was a brief moment of irritation that someone had gotten to it first, but he quickly shoved those feelings aside. He hadn't taken much note of the person's features and as such had not noticed the large ears. His eyes were firmly focused on the rock. "Hey, you!" he yelled as he made his way and waved a hand. "Sorry to bother you. I'm from the Geological Institute and I'm just here to take a look at the rock - quite a sight, isn't it?" he said and moved closer, now standing only a couple of feet away.

The being had been almost asleep by the time Jared came running down the hill, stirring just a little as the man had shouted out. Looking around slightly, as she heard the footsteps stop just a few feet behind her, the 'creature' turned around, looking to the young male, smiling up at him when she noticed he was indeed a human man. Her yellow eyes traced up his features, before landing on his eyes, smiling once more to him, turning around completely and leaning her form against the bank of the lake. From what he'd notice if he had looked ather, he'd notice her long, pointed ears, her large amount of long, silvery-white hair, and her lack of clothing, with her nice rack just nestled against the cool grass. Lifting up an arm, he could see the wrist had leaf-looking objects around it, as she leaned her head on the arm, an interesting look in her eyes. "Well...hello there, boy. I don't mind you interrupting my bath-nap...well, not too much. But yes...the rock is indeed very nice, and it made a nice little pool for me, too. So, what brings a cute human like you all the way out here?" She spoke softly, patting the spot of dry grass beside the pool for him, never letting her deep staring eyes leave him, almost as if she was planning something, not that she was letting that much be known. "Don't you humans usually send out whole crowds of people to see things like sky rocks? I thought these things interested you all as much as, well, Pokemon...?"

He watched as the white-haired person seemed to sit up and turn towards him, and immediately widened his eyes in surprise at what he saw, and covered them out of sheer embarassment right away. The first thing he had noticed was, not surprisingly, that the woman he had just met was butt-naked, much to his surprise. Slowly dropping his arm slightly, he still held it at a height where he wasn't going to be oggling her naked body and began to take note of the other features - primarily the abnormally long ears and the strange, yellow eyes. There was something completely off here - she did not in the least bit look like any other human he had seen, and there was just something familiar about the combination of features. "I... didn't mean to interrupt," he said, still trying to get over his first initial embarassment. When she spoke and asked him those few questions, he at first just answered to be polite. "There's not really a lot of people available at the moment - and to be honest, I was more or less sent to also check if it might be dangerous, but it doesn't seem to be, so..." that was when he realized something. She had adressed him as 'human' in a way that seemed to indicate she was not one herself. One brief thought was that she was an alien that had come with the meteor but that was absurd. But that was when the combination of the long, white hair and pointed ears clicked to him and he lowered his arm in an amazed stare. "Wait a second...don't tell me you're a..."

She held back an amused laugh as she watched his reaction to her, enjoying the fact he was apparently enthralled with her appearance. Listening to him speak, she slowly began to get herself out of the water, her skin soaking up the water drops on her rather quickly, baring herself to him as she padded closer, light tapping coming from her wooden footwear, which had been sitting just outside the water not too long ago. Standing right in front of him, she grinned, looking into his eyes as she wrapped an arm about him, kissing his cheek. "A...what? A female, a Pokemon, a Shiftry? Ding ding, we have a winner. I figured you looked like a bright one...now, as for your prize...." Smirking, she pulled him against her, her breasts pushing against his light shirt, as one arm stayed about his neck, her leaves brushing against his skin, as the other hand began to slip down his form. Pressing her lips to his, she claimed them in a deep kiss, slipping her hand into his pants, her leaves tickling against his tender flesh as she thought to tease him a little. "Really though...that rock had an interesting effect on just about everything here, as you can see. Though, I can't exactly tell you for sure what it might have done to some of the other Pokemon around here...." She mused to him as her body kept him close, her hair forming almost a sort of cover from anyone behind, going back to kissing him roughly, her fingers tracing along his length, closing her eyes as her ears twitched just a little. This boy was in for a time, indeed, though, just what he'd be going through on this island...no one could guess.

He was still watching as what he had now indentified as a Shifrty - a remarkably human-shaped Shiftry at that - began to slip out of the little puddle and walking towards him, causing him to take a step or two back. He coudln't remember if Shiftrys were normally assumed to be violent, and even if they weren't this was just batshit insane in every aspect and he was not so sure he wanted to stick around for too long. But before he could take another step back, her surprisingly strong arm caught him and he felt her peck his cheek slightly. "Prize? What pr--- aah!" He was pulled closer, kept in an iron grip that he could tell he would have a hell of a time getting out of, and feeling her soft, full breasts press against him even through his t-shirt. And when she pressed her mouth to his, feeling her invade him like that, he moaned into her kiss when her delicate, but firm hand began to grasp his member. He was shivering as he felt the leaves tickling at his sac and inner thighs, listening to what she was telling him. It was insane - this one rock had caused such an immense mutation in such a short time, even given the creatures the ability to speak? It just couldn't be - but the hand tracing along his length pulled him back to what was going on now, panting like crazy as she once again gave him a demanding kiss, leaving him chanceless, writhing in her grip.

Her fingers wrapped around his member, rubbing at him a bit faster, licking inside his mouth, before breaking the kiss to lip outside his lips and smirk, keeping him tight against her. She grinned to him, looking into his eyes, seeing how he reacted to her jerking him off, licking from his neck to his ear, nibbling upon it. As she toyed with the boy, she whispered into his ear, her hand moving quickly, leaves rubbing against his lower bits. "And I'll tell you...it's made me feel like an Arcanine in heat...I was trying to cool off in the water, but along came a nice male...." Chuckling in a sensual tone to him, she nipped his ear, as she let his length go and moved her arm from around him, before then shoving him onto the ground and moving on top of him, kicking her sandals off to the side. Laying with her upper body at his legs, her crotch was hanging just above his face, with lower hair similar to hair and grass mixed together, as she undid his pants and yanked them off without much effort. Licking her lips, she lowered her head, giving his length a nice long lick, from the base right to the head. Wrapping her fingers around him lightly once more, she began to rub at him as she licked along his shaft, every now and then playfully nibbling, very softly, along the shaft of it, till she took the head into her mouth and suckle on. Hair hair being as massive as it was, acted like a sort of curtain, keeping him from watching her work, as her rear shook a little, pressing down, expecting him to do something for her. Gently suckling on the tip, she began to let a little more sink into her mouth, as she let him go...then wrapped her breasts around the length instead, pushing them together around him, while starting to bob her head upon the tip and upper part of it.

Then she began just downright jerking him off right then and there, still holding on to him with that unbelievable iron grip. His eyes were closed and he leaned a bit into her, panting like mad at the forced stimulation, constantly feeling her tongue either invading his mouth or making its way over his face. She even nibbled his ear slightly and began to speak to him once more. So the meteorite had somehow also messed with the Shiftry's pheromones? Unbelievable. But what was much more unbelievable was the way she suddenly shoved him to the ground with her massive strength. Laying there with a raging hardon and quite frankly still being downright scared by the whole scene, he tried to crawl back a little but she was on him in a second, her rear above his face and feeling his pants being yanked off effortlessly though all of it was shielded from his view by her long hair. But when she gave him that lick, he moaned wildly behind her, writhing underneath. It was incredible, the way she played around with his cock, licking it with that warm and strong tongue to downright sucking on it. He took a quick breath when she pressed her rear down over him and could smell her arousal right then and there. And when he felt a soft, firm warmth wrap around his member, accompanied by her full lips teasing his head, he jerked underneath her with a cry and ended up pressing his own face against her underside. He was already inches away from reaching a climax with this treatment, and suddenly taking in by the situation, he began to lick her opening between those firm thighs that kept his head in place.

As the Shiftry went about her work, pleasuring the boy beneath her, to get him nice and ready for her, she kept rubbing his length with her breasts, while suckling and toying with his tip, as her eyes shot back open, feeling him licking at her. She moaned around him, releasing the pressure of her breasts a little, as she started to take more of him into her mouth. She rubbed herself into his mouth and tongue more, moaning and whimpering for more around him as she licked up his length, tonguing every bit of him as she sucked at him, her mouth forming a sort of vacuum about him. And, as he licked and tasted at her, he'd notice her juices were...different, that it was sweet, almost like a syrup or sap, and he was getting more of it as they went on. After another minute or so of sucking and grinding, she pulled her head up, taking a deep breath, as she kissed his tip and chuckled. Sitting up, she grinded into his face a little more, moaning out, before shifting, flipping around and sitting near his crotch, straddling his waist. She leaned down, licking at his lips to clean him off a little, as her hips moved, shifting and slowly sliding him into her body, letting his member slip between her thighs and into her warm, sticky slick cavern. She let out a nice moan and pleasured sound, as she let him sink all the way into her, till their hips met, as she started to move herself on him, licking and nipping at his neck, her hands and leaves messaging around his chest and torso.

How he had not orgasmed already he had no clue whatsoever. He had never felt half as much pleasure as this creature was giving him right then and there, like insatiable beast. It made him work even harder on licker her, trying to give some of that pleasure back as his mind had for now forgotten it was supposed to be afraid and instead focused on an equally carnal instinct. He did taste her juices, thick and warm as they were, almost sweet tasting, and it only made him want it more - he pressed his tongue against her, the tip occasionally playing a bit at what was unmistakably a very human female clit. He had no track of time - to him, there was just this moment. That was when he felt that she stopped treating his member and almost whimpered underneath her, having been so close to a release, her slight kiss to it feeling almost mocking. But that was when she turned and leaned down on him, her wonderful hands pressed against his chest as she began to lick his face clean. He could feel his member touch her rear as she moved, and when she finally shifted and let him slide in, he let out a pleased cry to the heavens, his hands holding on to the ground as if he would fall off anytime. His breathing was heavy, and he could not help letting one arm browse through her thick white mane.

She made a soft sound as her hips rocked against his, moving herself on him, enjoying the touch of his hand through her thick mane of hair, kissing him once more, before sitting up. Holding her hands to his chest, she began to move faster, harder, rocking herself on him as she moaned and whimpered out to him. The human-Pokemon was moving in an exotic way, using precise movements, her inner muscles squeezing and clenching around him, milking him for everything he was worth. As the tall female Shifty moved on the male, what would seem to be sweat began to roll down her brow a little, though, if any had dropped off and hit Jared, he'd find it wasn't salty, that it was semi-sweet, like the rest of her juices, showing she indeed was still part plant. Moaning out more, the female started fucking herself on him even harder, moving with as much force and speed she could muster, without snapping the male in half, riding him like no tomorrow. "Ohhhh...such a nice boy to have wandered along...I could go on like this forever...." Though, while she said that, she trembled, showing she was getting close to an orgasm of her own, breasts jiggling as she bounced and rocked on him, tilting her head back as she moaned and mumbled to him, in extacy.

He was starting to feel her go harder, faster, almost steadily increasing her pace and her force, soon having him jolt underneath her with practically every thrust, feeling the way she was clamping him tightly inside her so she almost jerked him up with her every time she raised her hips. It was nothing short of amazing, and true enough, just about the time that her sweet, sap-like sweat started dripping on him, he felt himself emptying inside the incredibly strong, fit, perfectly built Shiftry, letting out a loud moan as he felt his strength fading. But it seemed she was far from done with him as she simply continued rocking away, working at his now incredibly sensitive member. This made him writhe even more in her grip, especially since she was still going on - but at least he could feel that she was getting close herself and summoned the last bit of strength to thrust into her as well, hoping that this strange mixture of pleasure and torture would soon come to an end, watching as her breasts bounced above him.

The Shiftry was in bliss right now, rocking back and forth on the male, eyes rolling up a bit as she kept going full force, moaning even more as she felt him empty himself into her body. That was one of the last nails in the coffin, and a minute or two later, she cried out in pleasure as she came hard around him, orgasming for a solid minute, panting right afterward, sitting on him still. She panted quietly, holding her now full belly, as she leaned down to kiss him once more, chuckling. "Mmmm...thanks, cutie...now, get yourself some rest." As she spoke, she used Sleep Powder on him, kissing his cheek as she pulled herself off of him, slipping her getta on before wobbling away. As the spores would be doing their job, something nearby moved, watching the female move away from the 'prey', the now 'knocked out' male, still pants less. Whatever had been eying Jared moved a little closer, sniffing around, before moving away again, staying somewhere nearby, when it made a small noise, and the bush it was in started rustling.

If the Shiftry was in bliss, there was no word that described exactly what Jared was feeling at this point as he felt her still rocking back and forth on him, taking full advantage of his sudden sensitivity. But when he felt her starting to orgasm as well, feeling her fluids begin to slide down him, he finally leaned back and seemed to be resting, staring up at the beautiful creature that the meteorite had created. This time, there was no attempt to lean away when she got closer and gave him another kiss, this one far from as forceful as before. But the strange thing was the way it sprayed some sort of power from her leaves, and he felt a slow wooziness come over him. His eyelids felt heavy as he saw the shapely creature walk away. For a moment, he attempted to get back up, pushing himself with one hand, but feeling a sudden doze come over him he fell back once more on the grass and looked up at the sky, not even feeling like moving. "What...d id she do?" he muttered and rubbed one eye as sleep came to him... only briefly hearing something rustle before he dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

As the powder took its effect and dragged him into sleep, the rustling sound got a bit louder, as did the small noises, till, several minutes later, apairof girls wandered from it, the Espeon looking pleased, while the Umbreon was blushing a bit, as she pointed out the sleeping male to her 'sister'. The two getting curious, both padded over towards his sleeping body, sniffing all about him, seeing he was still alive, just sleeping. The Espeon girl sat near him quietly, smiling to the Umbreon, as she tilted her head, ears twitching. "Its a male, a human male. What should we do, sis...?" The Umbreon mewled softly, as the Espeon licked and cheek and giggled, pronged tail swishing happily. "I have an idea~" The two foxes moved closer to Jared's sleeping form, sniffing him more, as the Espeon sunk herself between his legs, head near his crotch, sniffing at his length. The Umbreon girl blushed, but followed suit, sitting softly on the boy's lower abdomen, little bum on at about his waistline, her tail twitching a little. The two then leaned closer, sniffing and checking out his length, as the Psychic type nodded, the Dark type doing the same, as they both started to drag their vulpine tongues over his length, cleaning him off of the combined juices from before, both of their tails wagging happily, enjoying the taste. How long it would take for the human to notice he had two, naked young teenage Eeveelutions cleaning him off would depend on how well his body fought the sleeping powders effect on him.

There was a long moment of completel and utter nothing for him as he simply laid there, occasionally mumbling or groaning something in his sleep. THe sleep powder had been incredibly potent - it seemed their abilities were far more effective on humans than one had ever though, and as far as he knew he was the first to experience a pokmon using something like this on them - at least for these purposes. He did not really hear the rustling of the bushes, he did not see the two creatures move in closer and only barely felt it when one of them sat on him, her light weight barely affecting him at all. His body was indeed trying to fight the fake sleep, resulting in him momentarily mumbling or weakly moving an arm at time, but it did not have much effect. The girls seemed to have free access to his member for a good long while before he finally began to came to. It was a slow process, only happening step by step. He could feel something pressed against him... and a soft gust, as if someone was blowing a fan at him. But as he began to regain his senses and slowly got up to rest on his elbows and lean his back up a bit, he saw a tail swishing in front of him, and there was a certtain lack of white mane. For a while he just sat there, unnoticed, until his brain caught up with his body and he realized - and felt - what was happening. "Wha... GAH! What the hell!?"

The two girls had just been going about their business, licking and nuzzling into his private bits, seeming to like the taste that was left and his taste in general. As he stired and propped up a bit, the Umbreon squeaked lightly and turned a little to face him, blushing deeply as her black ears laid against her gray hair, deep red eyes looking shy and embarrassed. The Espeon, on the other hand, smiled cutely as she propped herself up and looked right at him, tail wagging quickly. "Hi! Why are you sleeping out here with no pants, mister?" Her purple eyes shined brightly, as she smiled and lightly ran her fingers over his length, holding onto it as she licked the tip, then looked back to him, the Umbreon having scooted a little, while still sitting on him, with her front to him now, tail brushing his length. As one could guess, the Psychic type was the talker for the two, as it seemed. "My sister and I like you already~" To which the Umbreon, while still looking adorably shy, just nodded, blushing still, as she muttered one word. "So...sorry...." The two were both looked like young teenage girl, possibly no older then fifteen year old or so, though Umbreon had a bit more chest, somewhere between a small C and a large B, while Espeon was just about a B cup. They also looked like opposites, with the purple-pink haired Espeon bright and sunny, with much longer hair, and the gray-silver haired Umbreon, which much shorter hair and much more shy and quiet. The two cuties kept watching him, while the psychic girl let her tail keep wagging as her fingers kept rubbing him off, oddly enough, seeming to know what she was doing.

He was, needless to say, shocked to see the two teenaged girls lying on top of him. They were young - even compared to his own only 21 years of age - and he was not sure how he was to feel about what they had done to him in his sleep, or how one of them was continiously holding on to his member, almost petting it like it was some sort of fun toy. And their question... oh boy, how in the hell was he supposed to respond to that one? It hardly made sense to him. He recognized their species soon - an Umbreon and an Espeon, clearly only evolved lately - perhaps even speeded up by the meteorite? He ahd no idea. "That's... a long story," he just said and tried to sit up a bit more, attempting to pull back and away from the two, but with little lick since one was sitting on him. What was unbearable was the way the one girl's tail continued to brush against his length, so teasingly and soft even if it wasn't actually her intention - though the other one was without a doubt fully aware of what was going on and kept fonding his privates, rubbing him almost casually as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Putting a hand on the shoulder of the girl sitting on top of him, he tried to speak calmly. "You... you shouldn't be doing this anyway... where ARE my pants? I need to get out of here... fast."

Umbreon seemed to whine quietly, her tail still brushing into his length, as Espeon chuckled and licked the tip of the length, tail swishing behind her, tracing her finger along him while licking at him as she spoke. "Aww...you've gone and made my sister sad, Mister. Its not very often she finds someone she likes besides me, and she's taken with you." The Dark type nodded, looking up at him with big, sad red eyes, almost giving him the puppy dog stare, speaking softly. "You...you don't like me...?" As she spoke, her tail kept rubbing into him, near the base, as her little hands held onto his chest, her form rutting against his abdomen, humping at him a little, and he could feel she was getting wet, since she had little to no hair down below. The Espeon, toyed with his sack a little, suckling on his tip, keeping her eyes up at him, smiling as she pulled her head up. "We want to stay with you, Mister. You seem like you're fun, and we've been looking for a human for a while now." She said, being rather sincere, as she kept playing with his naughty bits, seeming rather pleased as her purple eyes watched him, holding herself back from using any psychic powers...at least for now.

When he heard the Umbreon whine a bit and noticed she wasn't getting off of him, still letting her tail swish away making this entire situation much more difficult what with the Espeon continuing to play idly with his member which was indeed getting harder by the second, he tried to tell himself it was some sort of trick. Trying to appeal to his mild mannered personality to get him to stay. But the problem was that it worked. He couldn't stand looking at the Umbreon giving him that sad look, and when she spoke, that was just too much. "I... I didn't say that," he continued, trying not to moan or gasp at the way the other kept playing with him. "I never said that. Sure I do," he said, mostly to say SOMETHING. "But I still need my pants... humans.. don't walk around naked," he said as an excuse. "Now please let me stand up? That'd be nice of you." He was trying to be polite and nice to the one on top of him, hoping that she would take that a little better, and all the while cursing himself for being so easily manipulated. On occasion his eyes woudl twitch at the way he felt the other one's lips play with his tip, driving him half crazy as he laid there. If he could just get up and find some excuse to get away...

As he spoke, the Umbreon's ears perked, twitching a little as she watched him, tilting her head lightly. As he finished speaking, she moved a little, scooting up his body, little form dragging over his chest. Leaning in, she licked his cheek softly and nuzzled her head into his neck, purring. She sat back, and even gave him a shy smile, climbing off of him, licking his cheek once more, tail swishing a little behind her. Espeon suckled him a little more, before letting him go, tail twitching as she moved to sit on the other side of him, licking his other cheek, ears twitching. She then moved behind him, leaning her small chest into his back, nibbling an ear as she whispered to him, quietly, tail swishing. "She wants you, mister...you should give her what she wants...she's just a cute little fox, isn't she?" The Umbreon smiled a little to the two of them, being rather oblivious to what her sister was doing, tail twitching behind her, the little moon shape on her forehead shining a little. The Espeon, while appealing to the male, was also doing something she was good at: planting a psychic suggestion, using her power to try and make his mind agree with the rest of him, seeing how she had already made him nice and hard. For a moment, the Umbreon girl padded away, looking around a bit, until she spotted something and moved to it. Getting his pants and undies, still inside them, she came back to him, like a little puppy, tail wagging. She placed them by his legs, on her hands and knees, trying to get them on him, wanting to be helpful, when her sister decided now was the best time as any to make sure he did the naughty with the little Dark type. "Look...she's even presenting herself for you...are you going to turn down an invitation like that from something so cute...?"

He was waiting. Waiting to see her get off so he would get his chance to get away. But apparently, she was not quite done with him yet as she moved up on him further and began to lick his cheek in what seemed geniuinely affectionate and only caused him far more frustration about the entire situation. But finally the girl climbed off, though she continued to sit by him and kiss and lick away, leaving him to not know wether he was supposed to be flattered or downright freaked out by all that was going on - and it didn't help that his hardon was raging by now. And the way she spoke... that little witch just knew every single word that would ever have as much as a tiny effect on him, it seemed. And he had to admit, the Umbreon WAS indeed adorable... especially when she actually did bring him his pants as suggested and tried to put them on him. Perhaps it was the sleep powder that had lowered his defenses, or perhaps the Espeon was simply just that skilled with her psychic powers. Whatever it was, her suggestions were starting to work, and he was looking thoroughly at the little Umbreon... at her innocent smile, the way she looked at him, the way she moved... and slowly, without even realizing it, he gently leaned up and used a hand to stop her from putting them further on. "It's alright," he said gently. "It can wait... I'm not.. in a hurry." By now, the Espeon didn't even need to stroke him - he was hard simply from the way she kept probing his mind.

Espeon was grinning to herself by now, knowing she was working wonders on the male, rubbing into his back a little as she kept going, nibbling on his ear lobe a little. She knew her sister wouldn't be affected by her power of suggestion, but she knew the smell of Jared's arousal would drive her to further need enough. As he spoke, Umbreon nodded softly, blushing slightly as she nuzzled his hand, tail swishing. "O..ok...." Sniffing the air around him, she blushed even more, as her own need grew, her juices lightly dropping from her crotch, as she stayed by his side, sniffing his length as she licked him again, licking around the length as she suckled him gently, having bee 'taught' by her sister, closing her big red eyes, tail and little rear shaking and swishing for him to see, as her ears laid back against her hair. Tasting his big length, the member slipped into her warm little mouth, suckling around him as she moved her head a little. "See? Take her...she needs a big male to please her little cunt...she's just too innocent to ask you herself." Tracing her fingers along his chest, she made sure his eyes were locked on the Dark type's rear, coxing him more and more to play with her, grinning a bit to know he was easily effected by her powers.

It was a strange combination - the feeling of the Espeon's hands on his back and shoulders and the way she was molding his mind . almost as if her hands had ahold of clay that she could shape in any form that she wished, she more or less had his mind. Now that she had a good grip, there was hardly anything he wouldn't do after a bit of suggestion. He watched with that little smile as the Umbreon moved in closer and went over him once more, feeling her soft, tender little mouth engulf itself around his still raging hard cock, that warm little tongue trailing along it teasingly all while her sister's hands were caressing his chest. He could barely contain all this pleasure, his mind a complete and utter haze. And at the Espeon's further suggestion, he nodded, finding it completely sensible that this was to happen. Slowly, he put his hands on the Umbreon's rear, each hand gently cupping her buttock as he slowly, safely pulled out of her mouth. He leaned in over her, and slowly inserted himself into her with a moan, loving the tight feeling as one hand slid up to cup one of her breasts from underneath. "Yeah... yeah I see it," he muttered and begun to thrust slowly, building up a bit of momentum. He kissed the little Umbreon's neck slightly and continued working into her, his pace steadily growing, but never too hard. He was gentle, oh so gentle to the delicate little thing. "Just tell me what feels good..."

Umbreon was happily pleasing him, when she felt his hands touch her rear, letting out a soft gasp, looking back at him as he pulled from her mouth and moved himself. As he got behind her, she blushed more, but made herself ready for him, in position, tail up, as she felt him push himself into her tight cunt. She let out a whimper of pain and pleasure, never having anyone his size inside her, tail swishing against his chest, as she let him continue to fill her up. Her body shook with pleasure, orgasming a little just from being entered, helping him speed up a little and not hurting her one bit. She purred and whined pleasantly, rubbing back into him as he thrust, her nipples hard as he rubbed her breast, ears twitching as he kissed at her neck. She seemed very happy, as the little Dark type was mated by the male, pushing into his thrusts a bit, loving how gentle he was with her, while still moving fast. Espeon, having planted the seed, grinned and chuckled, watching the human fucking her sister, as she sat behind them, one hand rubbing at her slit, the other...tracing their fingers along her own length. She was a herm, another effect given by the radiation, though it only seemed to do that to some of the Pokemon, not all of them. She whined softly, watching the male move as he thrusted, getting her hard, though not quite as big as he was, she was about six inches when fully hard. Licking her lips, she crawled closer, rubbing her juices from her crotch along her length, as she got behind Jared, licking and nibbling at his neck. She purred out to him, as her form pressed into him, rubbing her length along his rear. Grinning, she bit his neck softly as she let her length start to poke its way into his ass, nibbling along a few key spots, as he was pleasured from both ends by the sisters.

Oh, it was bliss to him, to feel the way she was even shivering underneath him, his mind now completely gone in the Espeon's world of suggestion. The little Umbreon was so wondefully tight, but she had helped lube him up and he was thrusting without the least bit of trouble now, a finger gently playing at her hard nipple, pressing slightly against it and loving the feel of the supple little breast in his hand. He leaned in even closer and kissed her shoulder as he continued, already feeling himself building up quite an orgasm despite the way the Shiftry had gotten him dry earlier. He was shivering, panting heavily in the Umbreon's ears, now kissing her cheek a little as he kept on teasing her. It was heaven, none the less, his clouded mind telling him that there was nothing but pleasure to gain here. He did not even take note of what the Espeon was doing... At least not until he felt her press against him, something that didn't seem to be something she should have pressing against his rear. For a brief moment, his mind pulled out of the spell from sheer confusion at this feeling, but that was really only for a second or two - when she bit down on his neck and rammed herself into him he let out a moan, her mind tricks over him once more, telling him to simply just take it. And that he did, enjoying the pleasure in both ways, feeling himself starting to gasp and tremble as he was mounting the Umbreon. "I... I'm close... I'm gonna blow..."

Umbreon was whining and panting in pleasure as he moved in and out of her little body, pressing her form tight against him, tail hitting against him as she tried to hold onto him with it. The little female was in pure bliss, seeming to enjoy the mating he was giving her, making happy, pleasured sounds as he kept going, ramming back into each thrust he gave her, her nipples hard against his hand, as she seemed to come again around him. As he kissed her shoulder and cheek, being so sweet with her while mating her hard and fast, she purred and whimpered out to him, turning her head to lick at him lightly, rutting into each and every hit, wanting all he could give her. Espeon, on the other hand, was loving how things had turned out, having given her sister a nice rutting before they found this hapless boy, who seemed to be giving her a love making session she liked even more then their own. This didn't bother the psychic too much, just chuckling as she nipped the boy's neck and held onto him, as she rammed his ass hard and fast, moaning into his ear, giving it some nibbles and licks as well, her tail wagging a mile a minute. This idea had been one of her best yet, invoking the feelings of need in his mind to incite this threesome, a smile on her lips as she moaned and whimpered. The two girls were both in bliss, both for different reasons, though both though together that they wouldn't be leaving this boy alone, even after this...once more for different reasons.

Everything was going to hell. It didn??t matter how or why, it just was, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. All that mattered was the glass in front of him, and the numb feeling in his fingers; he had held it for far too long. The inane chatter of the others, the frantic screams outside, however distant they may be, were of no consideration. From his perch on the stool, his other hand holding his stubble dotted chin, he could see the breasts bounce, and the legs move; the rest of the world would blow over. Soon enough the noise would stop, and the FBI, or some other sort of person, would come in, and drag him out. They might shoot him, right there, his brains splattered about Rufus, the bartender; it was a definite possibility. ??I??m telling you man, this is not good!? Seymour was rocked forward, a sudden obtrusive weight on his back, and stale, sour breath hot on the side of his face. With a grunt he shrugged the man off, but this interrupter was determined to pester him. ??You always here, always here, but? but you never talk, just sit and drink! Now shit is real, and you still don??t care!? The husky man spoke, his words more than slurred. Shrugging his shoulders, he went back to his show, the same show he had seen over 300 times before. The bang behind him told him that the man had fallen over, probably onto a table. He would not help the man, it was not like he knew the guy, or really cared for the well-being of strangers; he had his own problems. The woman left the stage, Selena, he recalled her name, and he adverted his gaze to his glass. It was full, the ice cubes nearly melted. He had not bothered to drink it, it was just there for comfort, to tell him everything was going to be okay. Besides, a bad storm was going to roll in later in the day, and he may be a border-line alcoholic, but he wasn??t stupid.

Puckering her lush lips Charlotte smoothed the gloss evenly over the pink flesh. Leaning back to admire her work she brushed a finger over her long dark lashes, fixing the edges of the charcoal that surrounded her chocolate eyes. With a sigh she adjusted her outfit, the navy material clinging to her round bust. Standing she smoothed glittering lotion down her long slender legs, the skirt riding up her hips to reveal the black lace garters underneath. Her curly locks were pinned into a prim bun, but she would easily be able to release the heavy locks during her performance. The police hat laying upon her vanity reminded her that she should be on stage. As she reached for her shoes the dressing room door flew open. Charlotte twisted around, seeing her co-star Candy standing in only a G-string. ??Candy-? ??Lottie! You ??ave to see this. The finely dressed people on the box are talking ??bout ??da sickness!? With that, Candy bounded away, her large breasts bouncing as she gathered with the other??s around the television nestled at the bar. The blonde woman was completely oblivious to her nudity, comfortable in the heated bar of Alaska. Charlotte sighed, forgetting her props and shoes as she trotted after Candy, intent on bringing the excitable woman back to the dressing room. They didn??t have much more time to waste. Charlotte couldn??t afford to get fired at this point. Cringing in disgust at the large man passed out on the table she made her way into the main parlor. ??Candy-? She called, only to get a rude shush from a costumer as he leaned forward to turn the television up. Charlotte relented, shifting to the bar she looked for a spot to view the news. Leaning forward she peered past broad shoulders and ba-dazzled bodies. ???-Close up windows, stock food and stay clear of all infected peoples. Currently, the Government is remaining silent about this new illness, only stating that we follow emergency protocol. However, Doctor Evans has a theory. Dr. Evan??s thank you for joining us.? ??You??re welcome.? ??Tell us about this horrible epidemic that has taken love ones and swept without hinderance through the world's greatest nations..? ??Well, from what I can tell, the symptoms are high aggression, exceeded acuteness to light and sound. The victims of this illness lose all consciousness and ability to recognize right from wrong.? ??It sounds like a case of rabies.? ??Haha, not quite, but vaccines are being researched to temper the onslaught against humanity. However, with how fast the disease spreads, we are unsure that our endeavors will be able to aid those already afflicted.? ??Dr. Evans, any idea why the Government is not answering the public's question? The military has begun to use deadly force to quarantine those even potentially ill. This has become a panic that the world has not seen in centuries.? ??I can not speak for the Government, but you can trust that those in the medical field are going above and beyond to discover and then distribute a cure to the masses. The military is in place to keep order, as you can see with the recent lootings that when disaster strikes, hierarchy fall through in the panic.? ??Thank you again Dr. Evans, now we go to Shelia Manner outside of the Government building, Sheila?? ??Sheila??? ??I??m sorry, it seems we are having some technical difficulties, please stand by...? Charlotte frowned, perplexed. It merely sounded like a intense fear of the flu. However, as the news continued those around her began to shift uneasily. They turned to gaze at each other and then into the dark paneled windows, as if expecting to see a monster approaching in the darkness.

One stripper left the stage, and two exit, not one staying on; figures. Seymour sighed as he returned to his drink, swirling the overflowing liquid about, not necessarily concerned that some of it sloshed onto the counter. He was sure worse things had been on the counter. The room grew silent as the TV was turned up, and for a lack of anything better to do, he listened. To him, it was all just some far off thing, something that would not be too relevant to him; actually, he was glad it gave the government something to do. Better them fight off this epidemic then put him-- THWACK! Seymour jumped and looked over his shoulder, the silence of the bar was shattered, as something slammed into the frosted window. It was but a dark blur, that left a dark smudge where it had hit. The strippers, the drunks, the fearful, they all shrieked, and suddenly the bar was overtaken by chaos. Seymour winced, as the bickering on what was going on started, and the inane worries of the scared filled the rather empty bar. Groaning, he picked the glass up, held it to this lips, and downed it. It burned going down, but in this mess, or the mess that was sure to follow, he was sure it would turn out to be a good idea. "Shut up!" He yelled, his glass slamming down on the counter. The bickering stopped, the inane chatter ceased, and all eyes were on him. Before anyone could question him, he stood and pointed to the window. "That was a bird; a fucking bird flew into the window! A single fucking bird flies into the window and you all lose your minds! Jesus Christ, get yourselves together!" "Oh, so what, you think you know what is going on tough guy?! Why don't you explain what is going on, if you are so damn brave!?" A big, burly bearded man yelled, his suspenders tight against his large body. Seymour, taken back as the man approached him, whom stood at an equal six feet-two inches, but weighing probably twice as much he did, suddenly found himself scrambling for something to say. After all, he was staring down a man that probably cut logs with his bare hands and wrestled bears. "What, is that all you got--" "Steve, don't start nothing!" One of the strippers tried to step in "-- tough guy?" Steve jabbed at Seymour's chest with a thick, meaty finger. Suddenly finding the diplomatic approach to be a better one, Seymour raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, "Hey... hey, calm down, we're all on edge, right? I'm just trying to suggest that we all keep our cool." Steve didn't buy it, and so he grabbed Seymour by the shirt, "Know what? I'm the bouncer here and your ass is getting the curb!" "No, no, wait!" Seymour pleaded, his hands grabbing desperately at Steve's balled fists. As much as he might try, Steve was the stronger bigger man, and so when he was lifted from the ground, the stitches of his white, dress shirt stressing he knew he was going to out in the cold.

Even Charlotte started at the sudden sound. Her lips parting as a surprised gasp whispered past her lips. She teetered then, as Candy clutched to her slender form. The woman??s breasts were hard as a rock, enhanced by the men??s hard earned dollar. ??Oi! Did ya hear that, Lottie? What could it ??ave been?? Lottie turned slightly, placing her hand on top of Candy??s, ??Its-? she was interrupted as the irritable patron spoke up. Her chocolate eyes glared at him, his sudden outburst, though reasonable, only added to the tension within the room. Candy shrieked hysterically next to the shorter woman??s ear, ??Lottie!? ??Hush.? She hissed, ??You heard him, it??s probably just a bird. Now, let me get changed and get your things and I??ll take you home. There??s no need to get all frazzled? Candy nodded as Charlotte practically ran to the dressing room. She trembled silently until Steve grabbed the regular by the shirt. Candy shrieked again, the sound grating and high as she bounded forward, grasping onto Steve??s hairy forearm, tense in his anger. ??No Stevey, ya can??t just put ??em out in the cold! We don??t rightly know what??s out there!? Tugging aggressively at his arm as her large breasts bounced, Candy whimpered hysterically. The rest of the occupants of the bar stood frozen save for some of the girls' complaints at Steve??s temper. Distracted for a moment Steve turned towards the lady, shoving her back with his elbow not so gently. The voluptuous woman staggered backwards until her lower back hit the edge of the bar. Meanwhile Charlotte had undressed rather hastily, pulling her hair from the prim bun. She had adorned a dark red, loose fitting turtle-neck. Not bothering to replace her bra, she rushed to find her boots, pulling them on over her worn jeans. Grabbing her coat and most of Candy??s belongings she rushed out just in time to see Steve push Candy to the side. In a flurry of anger Charlotte came rushing forward, pushing the pile of cloths onto the bar as she rushed over. Another woman reached for Charlotte, worried that her next action would cause more conflict but the lithe woman evaded; intent on her goal. She was tiny compared to the man, but she could still reach him. Using her body weight to aid her she propelled her fist in the back of Steve??s head where his skull met his spine. ??What the fuck do you think you are doing!? She screamed. ??Lottie, I??m okay!? came the plaintive voice of Candy from the side. But, as Charlotte reached again follow up her attack on the man another loud crash was heard from outside the establishment doors, accompanied by a screech that no one within could have possibly make.

For the most part everyone involved was utterly clueless. The captive was clueless. The captors had some slight idea, perhaps, but their density, both individually and especially combined, put them even lower on the ladder than the one they were charged with imprisoning. The only ones who truly knew the reasoning behind it all were they who pulled the strings, a select few the blonde may or may not ever see in her time with them, and who the villagers only saw on one of two occasions - when they did something right, or when they did something very, very wrong. It was a remote farming village in the boondocks of Spain, a thick forest forgotten by time, forgotten by the world which continued to advance around it. It stretched on for seemingly ever, with the one several mile long dirt path that led from a back country road toward the village so overgrown with beds of grass and growing trees that very few ever noticed its existence, and those who didn't soon wished they had. After those first few miles the bumpy road led to a large gap in the cliff where a rickety wood bridge covered the hundred-yard span. It was decently wide, wide enough for a horse and carriage, but so old at the very first glance that to drive across it was suicidal at best. Automobiles may not have even been around when it was first put up. After crossing the bridge the path zigzagged through the trees, occasionally giving way to an alcove left or right where trees had be cleared out to build a home, the best of them over a hundred years old, warped and falling apart, and the worst nothing more than small shacks used to butcher animals caught in forest traps. But eventually, after that, came the village where young Ashley Graham had been taken, eighteen and blonde and the envy of all who ever knew of her, her generously buxom chest not the least reason why. Though foremost, ahead of her looks, was her place in the world as the daughter of the United States President, a role that had led to a kidnapping only a few days into her very first college freshman semester. The September afternoon had been so beautiful, so serene. The beginnings of the changing of the leaves was gorgeous, no doubt. Every girl smiled at her. Every boy wanted to ask her out, though the Secret Service personnel that followed her around the Ivy League school intimidated every last one. At least all seemed safe though, sterile, until something happened - something she was yet unaware, as the dart that had pricked her neck released into her a serum bringing about unconsciousness, one that worked quickly and didn't wear off for a full day. And it was a day later that she'd been taken, taken amidst screams and panic and a quick, decisive shootout to be whisked halfway across the world. When Ashley awoke from her minor drug-induced coma it would not be to the smiling faces of those she knew. It would be to the painful bumps on the back of her head as she was dragged through the dirt, still in the school uniform of an orange sweater with a second red and gold sweater around her neck, with a plaid green pleated skirt. Two men were dragging her, each with an ankle in hand, her back on the ground, her body being pulled along through pebbles and filth to the center of their old town. The trees were cleared here, cleared for awhile, though they still very much in the heart of a deep forest. Buildings of rotted wood and doors hanging off their hinges formed a huge circle all around, most of them homes or small barns, with a church at the head and a watchtower beside it. There were several paths leading to other areas, farms mostly, a bit further down curving dirt roads. Ashley wasn't being taken that far though. She had been delivered to the edge of their town by several men in shrouding black robes, cultists from a nearby castle the villagers dealt with on a consistent basis. Originally they'd wanted nothing to do with the crazed men, but once a very new plague spread throughout the village's inhabitants, one that took barely over a day to sweep over the lot of them, there suddenly wasn't any further resistance. Rather, they embraced these black-clothed men, going so far as to do anything bid. And this, their most recent request, they had explained while pulling back a shroud that had the unconscious American girl laying on the ground, was to keep her captive until they came for her. She was to remain alive. That was the only rule given. Unlucky for her, 'alive' was a very vague state of being. 'Alive' was not the same as untouched. 'Alive' did not necessarily mean having all your fingers and toes intact. It meant you were still breathing, and that was about damn it. So they dragged her to the center of the village, two men pulling her along by her ankles, several more following on either side with pitchforks or rusty, blood-coated butcher knives. Due to the way she was being pulled Ashley's sweater rose slightly and her lower back scratched against the ground, as well as her skirt was caused to hike up and about her midsection, her legs bare to any nearby bushes that would scratch, her crotch hugged oh so alluringly by a pair of frilly white panties. But her captors didn't notice a thing, her situation nothing to them, their minds lost somewhere between being drones and being, quite simply, ignorant and cruel. They dragged her to the very center where the two men finally let go of her ankles, dropping her completely, a small dust cloud in the group's wake. As they formed a circle around her, talking amongst themselves in what was technically Spanish but sloppy and guttural enough that it was barely understandable, several more of the filthy, foul-smelling people came out from their homes to see what was up. Blood-stained smocks and horribly stained teeth. Overalls with bare chests and barely a shoe among the bunch. Was she stirring yet? Had she awoke? To make sure of it the circle of men shouted about to one another until several of them decided to drag her, by the hands and by the hair, through the dirt over into a rather cold troth of filthy water. It was time for the pampered Princess to wake up to a brand new kingdom.

For Ashley Graham, the last clear memory she had was of the blue-gray autumn sky, of leaves on the wind, of the breeze on her face and hair. Of a feeling compounded of delighted happiness that this latest phase of her life should have started so well, and excited anticipation at what might happen next. She had been thinking about classes and societies and parties - of people she might meet, things she might learn, activities in which she might partake. It certainly did not cross her mind that the tops of the three lists would be kidnappers, backwoods Spanish, and abduction, respectively. When the dart hit her, she had thought for a few moments it was an insect sting. After that she coudn't think at all. For a little while the world seemed to be coming from very far away, and she knew she must have fallen, because all she could see was that blue-gray sky above her. Then consciousness fled entirely. The last sounds of which she had any awareness were the first salvo of gunshots. Her time under the influence of the drug was a simple blank - not even sleep, simply absence, as though she had fallen out of time entirely. But slowly, very slowly, she began to become conscious of some kind of sensation through her stupor. Pain, was it? Yes. Pain. Pain in her head, and there - ah! - there it came again. Was someone hitting her? What was happening? She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too, too heavy for her to lift - and yet her awareness was starting to creep back. She was being pulled along by her ankles; that much she apprehended, if dimly. Pulled across uneven ground, so that her head struck on every protruberance and rut. Who was doing this? Where was she? Why weren't they being more careful? Then the grips on her ankles were released, her legs falling to the floor, and she heard voices around her. In... Spanish? Groggy as she was, she couldn't begin to follow what they were saying; her language skills were not advanced at the best of times, and even in her current state she could tell that this version of Spanish sounded nothing like that taught in classrooms back home. Was she in Mexico? Nothing made any sense. She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn't open. What was happening to her? Then strong hands grabbed her up, and yanked her back across the ground, by her hands and hair. The pain of the pull on her hair was enough to make her jerk open her lovely eyes, taking in with a single panicked look the half-collapsed village square, the filthy men pulling her, the brooding, cloudy sky above. Her body still felt as though it was made of lead; she opened her mouth to scream, but only the slightest whimper actually emerged. They were pulling her towards some kind of trough. Was she going to be drowned?

Several chickens fluttered their wings and hurried out of the way as the group dragged the unsuspecting blonde toward the animal troth. Dirty and disgusting, as slimy as it was wet, one man pulled Ashley by the arm not caring if it came out of its socket, and the other by her hair, equally uncaring if the strands were torn from her head. They dragged the American teen into the cold water with a splash, then continued dragging her from the one far end to the other. This brought a great deal of laughter among the crowd. "Clavada ella! Clavada ella!" shouted one. The men were all too willing to oblige. The one with a firm grasp of Ashley's hair, he on in his years, dressed in tattered overalls that left a majority of his chest bare, took a handful of the straight lengths of gold closer to her scalp. His other hand went to the back of Ashley's neck, then to between her shoulder blades, forcing her face down into the murky sludge of the troth as onlookers laughed. He kept her there like that for a few seconds before letting her up, jerking her head upward, though that was only to give her a quick chance to breathe. She was shoved right back down into the troth, water splashing about, this repeated three, four times as more and more villagers gathered near. "ste es el?" "Qu hacemos con ella?" "La mantenemos viva. Dijeron que podemos hacer todo lo dems que queremos." "Haha! Cualquier cosa?! Puedo empujar tan este pitchfork encima de su asno?" "Haha. Let' s se divierte cierto con sus agujeros antes de que usted la estire hacia fuera como usted hizo a su esposa!" The jesting went on between the townspeople, back and forth, laughing, uncaring whether or not this girl had any clue what they were saying or what was going on to begin with. Nearing twenty in number now, mostly men with a handful of women peppered in, a couple began dropping their tools aside while a few more were way ahead of them, men peeling off what little dingy clothes they wore to reveal just as filthy, hairy bodies, standing in a circle around Ashley and the troth. The two holding her pulled her out of it and back to the dirt, where their grasps went from her arm and hair to her clothes, trying to pull at the orange sweater and lace white panties. The others stood there. Watching. Waiting. Filthy, hairy chests. Filthy, hairy legs. Filthy, hairy dicks, hands eagerly stroking themselves as they leered at the American girl's lily white skin - save for all the dirt she was acquiring. Behind them the women were laughing. And behind the women were goats and chickens pecking about the dirt. Crude. "Adelantado! Let' s considera esos pechos!"

The combination of the pain from her arm and scalp, and the shock of the frigid water against her skin, helped jerk Ashley out of her drugged stupour. Weak though she was, she struggled with the little strength left to her against the powerful hands holding her head under the slimy water, the air escaping from her lungs in streams of bubbles as her body was crushed against the side of the trough. Convinced that she was going to die, she was almost too surprised to respond when her head was yanked back out again; but she managed to take a great, gasping breath of air before being shoved once more into the slime. Again, and then yet again, she was lifted out and forced under, her lungs bursting, her head on fire with pain from the man's grip on her lovely hair. Then, finally, she was hauled out and thrown down onto the dirt, her body convulsing as she heaved up the vile sludge from her lungs, coughing and spluttering up slime from her mouth and nose, her beautiful face a mask of filth. Water filled her ears, and the sound of voices came to her distant and distorted, but she understood the import of what was happening to her well enough as their rough hands grabbed her clothes, some yanking up her sweater to expose her breasts and bra, others pulling her panties down to her convulsing knees, revealing her virgin sex and neatly-trimmed bush to the hungry gaze of her captors. She tried to fight, but her body could concentrate on nothing but heaving up the filthy water from her throat - much of which splattered on the men holding her, not that it made them noticably dirtier than they already were. Still weak from the drug, she knew she could not hope to escape them; that she was going to be stripped, possibly raped, maybe even killed. But where was she? Why was this happening to her? Spitting the last mouthful of slime from her mouth, she finally managed a stranged scream of protest as her panties were ripped off her entirely, her panicked gaze taking in the dirty, hairy bodies of her captors as they stripped themselves, their intentions now horribly clear. With what little strength she could still muster, she tried to press her legs together, hoping against hope that something would happen to prevent the ravishment they all-too-obviously intended...

But nothing would prevent it. There was no savior to be sighted, no mercy to be had. There wasn't even a common language between the teenager and the Spaniards, at least not common enough to get through to one another. Though by their actions there didn't seem as if it'd matter if Ashley even could; she was still a human being, language barrier or no, and they were still obviously going to abuse her. The only questions were how thoroughly, and in how many different ways. "Todava detngala!" shouted one, a few of the men breaking from the circle to grab at the teenager's arms and legs, pulling them apart. Grubby, thick sausage link fingers grabbed at Ashley's lace white panties, jerking rather than pulling, her skirt still hiked up again and again from the struggle, tugged them down from around her hips and ass to her knees, her young crotch coming into view. He gave them a harder jerk now, uncaring, opting to tear the thin feminine fabric instead of dealing with her squirming legs. The torn cloth was discarded, tossed aside to the dirt a few feet away where one of the other villagers was quick to snatch it up, bringing it to his gray bearded face to inhale of her scent with a crooked-toothed grin. The blonde's top half wasn't faring much better, her sweater pulled up and over her head, blinding any hope of vision for a second as it wrapped around her face. The man standing at her head pulled it free of her arms, free of her face, chucking that aside as well now. "Sujtela hacia abajo!" "Haha! I' m que consigue el primer tiro!" "Mucho! Usted consigue en la lnea, estpida!" More laughing. She was something less than human to them. They joked. They jostled. The men who had ran the girl through the troth and then stripped her were the closest, and if for that reason only they had first dibs on the American girl's body. One forced her legs to a spread as he moved to kneel in the dirt between them. The other knelt at Ashley's head, pulling her head and shoulders back on his lap a bit. He gripped at her bra, pulling the front up, greedily grabbing at the white cups to pull her tits free - a freedom he quickly embraced with both palms, squeezing them with a firm chuckle, harsh breath letting out that amused little laugh. The first wasted little time in pulling his tattered old pants down, not down completely but enough to whip out a hairy set of balls with a ready, eager cock between them. His tip pressed up against Ashley's bare young sex. Was she even coherent yet? Not a one of them seemed to care, her rapists or the small, simple-minded mob.

Desperately, Ashley tried to keep her legs out of the grip of the men who grabbed for them, twisting and kicking as best she could, but it was no use; broad, strong fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles, yanking them out and apart until she was painfully spread-eagled between them, her body totally exposed to whatever they might proceed to do to her. Horrified, she felt her panties ripped awy from her; then her screams of protest were momentarily muffled as her sweater was pulled up over her face, exposing her generous bust to further molestation. Still weak from the drug, she could do little but twist herself helplessly as the sweater, too, was stripped from her and she was dragged down amongst them, naked now except for her shoes and bra, her horrified eyes taking in the filthy, hairy bodies that pressed in around her. The idea that these coarse backwoodsmen were about to rape her, that she would lose her viriginity not to some handsome young lover of her own choosing, but to some gang of unwashed thugs, down in the mud of the village square... it was all too horrible, too monstrous even to fully comprehend. Surely this couldn't really be happening; it was a nightmare, a drug hallucination, anything but the truth. Surely this couldn't actually be about to happen. Not to her... But the pain and the force were as insistent as ever, as her thighs were forced apart by one man and her head and shoulders gripped by another, whose ugly, callussed hands were even now roughly squeezing and kneading her big sensitive breasts, raising red marks across her pale skin. As the first man knelt between her legs, she stared with horror at the big, erect cock he pressed to her sex, still shouting amiably to his fellows in their guttural jargon as though this was nothing mor than a joke or game to them. The size of his member horrified her; surely it wouldn't fit inside her, virgin that she was, without painfully tearing her open inside, especially as arousal and relaxation were the very furthest things from her traumatised young mind.'No...' she whispered, and then, as she felt the head of the cock touch her nether lips: 'No! NO! Please! Don't! NO!'

It was late in the day, late enough for the sun to hide behind the clouds on its decent to the earth, late enough to dot France's sky with oranges and yellows, with hues the most gifted of painters dreamed of plucking from the air. It was becoming late, yet at the same time still early, early for Aramis to arrive home by nearly an hour's time. Supper would not yet be ready and he could not scold his daughter for that as she would not know, she would not expect him for awhile still. And it was that surprise which he hoped for, for the light in the eyes of his lovely young fifteen year old to shine brilliantly at simply his sight. Such was an arrogant hope in a way, perhaps, thoughts of a man conceited - or perhaps a man spoiled, spoiled by a doting girl who was often pleased by the simple things. Aramis' chestnut mare slowed to a trot as he rounded the final trees on that long dirt road that led to one shorter, a minute away at this speed from the front steps of his secluded cottage in the countryside. He had lived in the city long ago in his youth and until he was a man of thirty, but there was only so much action a man could desire to see, only so much hustle. There was something to be said of a calm, peaceful life, a life of prayer and devotion. Perhaps this was where Porthos might chime in with words of his own, a disagreement, perhaps even some clever tavern limerick comparing the women of the city to those of the country. His friend could have them, have the lot, Porthos always one to see quantity before quality. And there was a secret that perhaps his friend spent too much of his time in Paris to ever find out - that though the ladies of the countryside did tend to be more innocent than their city counterparts, that did not mean they wished to stay that way. As his horse brought him in close, yards away now, Aramis dismounted with a small billow of dust as his boots hit the ground. He patted the mare in a silent thank on her strong neck and took the reins, casting a quick glance to the house as he led her over to the barn. He wondered to himself what Yvette usually did an hour before he would return home. Was she still tending to her chores in the stable? The barn perhaps? Maybe a walk in the field? It was a lovely afternoon, after all. Or would she already be bathed and changing back into her ladylike make-up and clothes while supper simmered on the stove? He would find out soon enough he supposed, bearing a quiet smile as he led his horse into the barn. He took his time in unsaddling the old girl, in setting the blanket aside and in filling a hearty helping inside her bag of oats. "I am home, my dear," he spoke out in a lofty tone, letting his voice carry when he stepped foot inside the large cottage to see she was not in immediate sight. Heavy leather boots made similarly weighted sounds against the wood floor as he took a few more steps inside, shrugging off the long brown leather coat he wore to and from when he left for the day. It was Autumn now, the days able to turn chill without warning, and as such to leave without your coat even on warm days could easily bring regret later. "Yvette?" he called out again. "Where are you?" he questioned while setting his coat upon an oak stand just inside the door. Taking a moment to sniff the air he noticed... nothing. Which meant supper wasn't started; his little girl was quite a fan of various spices, they usually filling the house when he arrived home. Still bathing then, likely, or dressing. "Yvette? Are you decent?" No response. Aramis took a few steps to the wide oaken staircase, one, two, stepping upon the third with a hand on the rail as he called again, "Yvette?" Nothing. Hm. He turned to head to the bath, stepping back down the stairs, passing by the door and down the hallw- And then Aramis stopped. He paused midstep and leaned back, a knee still in the air, something catching his eye. He took a step back, then a second, coming to stand up straight. He looked to the door. More specifically, he looked to the coat rack, to where he'd placed his not a moment before. It was there. Yvette's, however, was not. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the rack and breathed, breathed in and out through his nose.

Though often young maidens claimed, while blushing and biting their lips ever so enticingly, that Spring was their favorite season, Yvette would claim most confidently that Autumn was her most cherished time of year. Chilly days encouraged evenings spent by the fireside, curled up in close proximity whilst reading or simply conversingAutumn harvests were always quite bountiful, and produced an assortment of ingredients to further tantalize the taste buds during meals..And though the falling leaves presented yet another chore to tend to, their changes in hue to radiant golds and reds, were enough to remind Yvette of the presence of the King Not of Louis, but of God. God, from whom all blessing flowWhom she had been raised to give thanks to everyday of her life, for every morning sun and evening star, for every breath and for every kiss. Kisses, Yvette was especially fond ofParticularly, kisses from her Papa, as they had been given most frequently, and received most eagerly throughout a grand majority of her life. From a young age, she had been aware that the man she called Papa and the men she referred to as Uncles, were not truly related to her by blood. Through kindness and devotion, she had been taken in, and raised as the picturesque daughter of the former Musketeer, Aramis. A man whom she was insatiably attached too, so innocently besotted by; and though love had never known a bond such as the one formed between Yvette and her Papa, a daughter raised by a strict father willalwaysfind some way to rebel.. The blossoming teen did not break rules oftenBending them, she would say, was a far more appropriate term. In fact, the desire to bring a smile to her Papas face often clouded out choices that would lead to more serious offenses...But occasionally, such as that particular afternoon, his rules simply did not work well with her plans. She had forgotten that morning to check the spice rack before Mass, to see if she would need anything from the market while they were in town. After arriving home, she had changed from her formal dressings into a pair of Raouls old jodpurs, a white loose shirt and a pair of riding boots so she could more comfortably complete her chores around the house. By the time she returned to the kitchen to start preparing supper, it was an hour and one half before Papa would arrive homeTwo before her Uncles and cousin would arrive..Far too late to find an escort into town to fetch spices. Papa never permitted her to go into town alone. There were far too many men of questionable intentions there. Men without a strong moral compass, men without Godmen who were not her Papa. Yet, she needed those spicesIt would take close to half hour on foot to walk to town. With haste, Yvette cleaned herself up, knowing better than to go into town dressed so poorly. She choose a gown of earthen greens, so that the dust from the roads would not show up too noticeably upon her skirts. The gown was fitted tightly around her lithe frame, her young breasts nearly spilling from the top line of the bodiceHer golden cross, a most cherished gift, lay just above the swell of her breasts, so that wandering eyes would know her purity before attempting to advance. With a black hair ribbon held between her teeth, her deep golden tresses pinned loosely up in curls as she quickly dashed down the stairs from her bedroom, Yvette snatched up the auburn cloak from the rack, slipping it loosely over her shoulders before rushing from the door and down the dirt road towards town.. Time was spent wisely, well, as wisely as expected for a young lady shopping in town. With the spices, she also purchased a harvest bouquet for the table centerpiece. An arrangement of orange mums, stalks of harvest wheat and lovely white lilies, that smelled of fresh country air and would certainly brighten up the dining room. As she walked home, she found herself humming and strolling, distracted by the beauty of the French countryside, when truly she should have been sprinting back to the cottage in order to beat her Papa home. So lofty was the mind of a young maiden at times, so easily pleased by such simple pleasures. As she approached the cottage, her humming had formed into singing in such a fair and whimsical tone that had earned her pet name of Little Robin at home, and sweet seraphim in the church choir, The falling leaves drift by my window The falling leaves of red and gold I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands I used to hold, Producing a key from the pouch at her side, Yvette opened the back door of the cottage to enter into the kitchen, having not passed the stable, she did not notice her Papas mare comfortably resting in its stall, or she would have silenced her song as she laid out the spices upon the counter top. Since you went away the days grow long And soon I'll hear old winter's song But I miss you most of all, my darling When autumn leaves start to fall, With the spices laid out, the potatoes and vegetables piled to clean, and the chicken now resting in a pot of water to moisten, Yvette took up her pretty bouquet and walked into the dining room. She laid out the crimson red table cloth, setting the arrangement in the center between two candelabras. The Sunday china she had already set atop of the wine cabinet near the window, the evenings wine set in a bucket of ice to chill. Passing through the kitchen once again, the lovely young girl began unlacing her cloak, walking to the main hall of the cottage, Since you went away the days grow long And soon I'll hear old winter's song But I miss you most of all, my darling When autumn leaves start to fall.. When autumn leaves start to--- Her eyes had been half closed as she continued her song, not truly paying mind to her surroundings as she could quite skillfully navigate her way around the cottage in the dark in order to fetch a cup of water in the middle of the night..But as she opened her eyes, in the midst of the final lyric of the song, her hand raised to hang her cloak upon its hookShe stopped, her pale petal lips agape, her hazel eyes wide as she stare at the leather coat that.that wasnotsupposed to be there!

Periodic, youthful disobedience aside, Yvette was a good girl. She was perhaps the best daughter a man could ask, devoted to her family and to her savior, embracing life around her, listening fervently to any teachings he had to share. Aramis made sure to tell her this often, that she was the most wonderful gift he had ever received. She was adopted, but adopted in fact alone, feeling to his heart as if she were his in all other aspects that a person might. Another thing Yvette had proven good at was keeping her chores done regularly, a truth which would come to haunt her now as the freshly cleaned windows allowed her father to see her strolling the dirt road toward their home, very obviously coming from somewhere. Further inspection as she came closer to the cottage, robin's voice heralding her arrival, allowed Aramis to see somewhat the items she held as she rounded the side of the house for the kitchen entrance. The retired musketeer took slow breaths to himself as his fifteen year old daughter disappeared around the bend of the house. She'd be stepping inside in a moment. How should he handle this? Not a minute ago he was brimming with excitement, eager to surprise her. Then worry. Then relief, mixed with disappointment. She was a good girl. Yvette was a wonderful girl, just too headstrong at times. If she was guilty she would acknowledge it to her father like a scolded dog and accept her punishment, usually without too much of an issue. Usually. He turned to remove himself from the hallway. Not only headstrong, Yvette was clever too, and observant. She would catch sight of his coat. Aramis walked calmly to the adjoining room to take seat in his large, comfortable high backed dark mahogany chair, a gift from his beloved friend Athos when the man turned to a number of crafts following his retirement. Most of the room matched in palette, mahogany walls, mahogany floors, the ceiling a rich blue to match an elaborately decorated rug covering a majority of the floor. Several chairs and a couch rounded the room out as a mixture of a lounge for guests and Aramis' den, his original den given up years ago when Yvette was taken in and in need of a bedroom. Aramis took his preferred seat, the chair designed wide and strong, armless, a delicate design carved along its spindles. He stared forward at the fireplace as he heard Yvette enter through the kitchen door, a fireplace that would not be used for a few hours still when light was rare and loved ones were near. For now he simply stared as the ashes of yesterday's logs as he listened and thought. Perhaps she had gone somewhere local, one of a number of places she was allowed to on her own. Such was possible. Perhaps she had gone into the city and did indeed secure an escort, a neighbor or a friend on the way, and upon leaving the city and back to the country Yvette and her companion parted ways. This was also possible. She had a recurring habit of wandering places she oughtn't on her own, however, which often led her father to worry the worst. She was an honest girl, though. Sure lip aside. Curious spirit aside. Yvette was always honest with him, and upon seeing his coat she would know to look for him. And upon seeing him sitting in this chair she would know, know well by now that her father would hold her accountable for her actions, and hopefully she would know well enough to lower parts of her dress while raising others. She was a smart girl. Hopefully she would know to lay across her father's lap with her young, pale backside bared, accepting the punishment without needing to be told. Not that it would save her from an extra strike, but there was a degree of respect in it, in acknowledging her father's wishes, even if only as an afterthought. She would be allowed certain things. She would be allowed to whimper and even cry, as such was expected when having one's bottom thoroughly smacked. She would also be expected to grip her rosary around her fingers during the punishment whilst openly praying for forgiveness. She would not, however, be allowed to argue and take lip with her father, and if she resisted she knew full well Aramis would simply come to her. Catch her hair as she ran away, down the hallway. Pin her to the dirt floor of the barn if she got that far. Raising such a strong girl was hard sometimes, as accepting one's punishment was not always desired. It would be up to her how things played out, as the initial disobedience had been a choice of hers as well. There was always the possibility, of course, that Aramis was mistaken and she was innocent of any wrongdoings, but the priest would have to wait to see how she acted and what she said before he could know. Until then he would sit there, sit in his chair and assume, waiting patiently for the guilty party to come clean.

A soft slumping sound of fabric falling to the wooden floor, as amidst the mild panic swelling beneath her bosom upon seeing her fathers coat, Yvettes slender fingers loosened its grip upon her cloak and sent it dropping to the floor at her feet. Her lips quivered slightly, drawing those soft petals inward in contemplation, as her hand still hung in the air, reaching out to that hook with nothing but air trapped between her fingersHe was home...For how long? Yvettes sweet heart was fluttering rapidly, fueled by guilt that urged her to confess...The crucifixes stared down at her imposingly with such lank accusing eyes. So easily swayed, was a girl so close to her father, when thoughts of disappointing him crossed her mind.. Well, perhaps he had just arrived homePerhaps he had not noticed that she was gone! Her frantic heart calmed slightly at the thought. If he did not ask, she need not tell. Not telling was not the same as lying after allYvette could never tell a lie to her Papa. Despite her intellect that matched his own, and her compelling charisma, she could never permit a lie to pass her lips in the presence of her Papa Leaning down, she gathered her cloak up quickly in her arms. Before hanging it in its proper place, she swiped at the dirt lacing the skirts of her lovely gown. Yvette turned to face the hall mirror, placing several pins from her hair down upon the table between a vase of lilies and a sculpture of the Virgin Mother. She placed one between her lips as she ran her fingers through her pretty curls, glancing aside for a moment towards the den..The door was slightly ajar, and Yvette well-near swallowed that hair pin...Knowing that he was in there,waiting for her. HeknewHe always knew. Loosely, she pined up a few curls back into place, tightening her ribbon so that her hair was swept up in a lovely up-do. Several ringlets left down framing her face, knowing her Papa enjoyed twirling her hair between his fingertipsJust like silk, he would always smile to herThe hair of an angel.. An angel who pinched at her cheeks in the mirror, to give herself a more radiant blush, succumbing to vanities in an attempt to sway her way back into grace. Oh how the devil tugged at her heartstrings at times, the same as with all young ladies perhaps, eager to please aloverloved oneThough, essentially those words connoted the same intimacies in most regards, when it came to the priest and his little songbird. Whilst a fathers eyes were meant to be hawk like over his daughter, Yvette was no stranger to her ownobservationswhen it came to her PapaWith a catty jealousy, she held close to his arm whenever walking in public, doting upon him at all times in a manner more proper for a wife. She tended to him with a devotion more pure and adoring than her service to the church...And when eyes of women who recalled his legends came prowling much too close Yvette, with claws bared, would chase them off in some not so subtle mannerTaking pride in seeing their eyes slightly widen, and their steps retreat whenever she would pass them soon after..Her Papa did not need themHe had her, always Even now he had her, guilty conscious and all as she opened the door to the den with an elegant smile playing upon her face. She felt her knees buckling beneath her gownOverwhelmed by his presence and the emotions he could stir about inside of her without saying a single word. As if butterflies were set loose within her stomach and were tickling her from the inside. Yvette stayed near the door for a moment, her fingers tracing upon the golden lion etched into a box atop of one of the end tables where her confessional rosary was kept. She was always punished in this room, save for the few occurrences where she took flight and was punished promptly and more severely wherever Papa managed to catch her. Usually however, it was hereOver top of the chair which her Uncle Athos had built. One that he always pointed out every week with a grin of confidence as his finest pieceAlways, her Papa would chuckle and glance her wayAlways, she would blush and focus anywhere else but that chair Hello Papa, youre home early, She curtsied respectfully, moving her hands behind her back after releasing her skirts, entwining her fingers together as she approached him. Yvette tried with utmost difficulty to focus upon him, so that her pretty hazel eyes would not wander and give her guilt away..It was Sundayhe could not be too upset with her. Especially with their guests to be arriving in a matter of hours! Supper still needed to be prepared, the table to be set, surely he would dismiss such a silly thing as retrieving spices from town without an escort! Instead of lifting her skirtsinstead of laying her lithe young body over the length of her Papas sturdy lap..Instead of making the sign of the cross, and pressing the rosary inside of that box between her palms before starting her prayers of forgivenessYvette sat down on her Papas knee, leaning up to kiss his cheek, nuzzling at the edges of his facial hair affectionately. Her hands unlaced from behind her back,and instead draped around his neck, her fingers stroking in his hair as she smiled as convincingly as she could..But again, those pretty petals trembled..Yvette could not lie to her Papa, nor keep secrets....

He smelled her first before he saw her, that lovely scent only women were capable of, somewhere between flowers and Heaven. That brought a smile to the edges of Aramis' lips and calmed him some, some, finding it ever difficult to be firm with her. Still, he knew he must. He listened to the soft sounds of his daughter entering the room and, he suspected from the sound and the manners she'd been taught, curtseying in respect before she sat at his knee. That said something there, addressing his suspicions, in that Yvette did not own up to any guilt right away. The kiss to his cheek and nuzzle along his jaw encouraged that slight smile to develop more fully, Aramis leaning in to the affectionate rub, his left hand snaking around his daughter's waist to rest around the small of her back, on her opposite hip. "Excuse me," he broke the silent, warm nuzzle with a question, "but isthishow you greet your father, Yvette? On the cheek? Since when?" Such would not do. The musketeer's free hand - retiring from such a role made little difference in a man's spirit - reached to gingerly caress the teen's cheek, in an affectionate manner like she nuzzled his own. He guided Yvette's chin to a tilt as he himself leaned in to kiss, firm, sure lips pressing to the sweet young maiden's. There was no shyness in how he kissed his daughter. Out in the open perhaps, in front of her uncles or about town, or anyone who knew of their relation, if only because they would not understand. Such affection was not wrong, as love could never be - this had been as much Yvette's own feelings as they had his, she needing little convincing toward such affection with her father. It had been she that began them originally, in truth. Aramis kissed her again, slow, savoring those sweet, supple lips her maker had gifted her with, and gifted he with in turn. His fingers caressed her hip through the several layers of fabric as they kissed, parting lips between every third or fourth for the briefest of nuzzles before finding one another again. The silence in the room continued for another minute, reminding someone that they are loved taking constant precedence over all else. "I missed you too much, my dear," he began, finally breaking what between them was a proper greeting. He breathed soft, warm breath against her face; just because they were talking did not automatically mean they must be a distance away. "You have been especially good lately, working hard around our home, behaving yourself like a lady should. I notice these things." He couldn't help but smile with that. Aramis' fingers trailed the short distance from her soft cheek to a loose, curly hair, stroking it affectionately; a favorite toy. "I wanted to do something special for you as a reward, for all good girls deserve something nice once in awhile, don't you think? I could not wait to be home with you, to spend a little extra time together before your uncles arrive. As I rode home early I fancied a thought of enjoying a cup, perhaps two of the spiced cider left over from the other evening while my songbird sings to me as she cooks." More idle playing with her curls. Aramis tucked the one back behind her ear and moved on to another, an affectionate task, and as curls were often wont to do, with her slightest movement it bounced amusingly back to its loose place. "You had me worried when I first arrived home. I called everywhere and you were not here, nor was your coat. Where did you go, sweetheart? I was about to take to horse again to look when I spotted you returning home. ...Were you all by yourself?"

Small, light kisses, she placed warmly upon the curve of his cheek as her fingers gently twirled within his long, thick hair. Her Papas hair was the finest of any man, rivaled only by her Uncle DArtagnan, who spent more time on his dark tresses than he would ever admit aloudHer Uncle Porthos had locks far too long for him to keep nicely, and poor Uncle Athos was thinning recently, due to stress over Raoul serving at the front with his regimentPapas hair however, was always well keptIt smelled lightly of incense from the Cathedral, of the harvest airAnd as her small nose nuzzled tenderly against his face, she breathed in the light musk of his sweat from the days rideNo finer cologne could ever be conjured. Yvette could never understand the other young maidens in town, complaining of their attractions smelling of sweat after a days work. The scent of her Papa exuberated strengthIt was absolutely intoxicating Thick black lashes fluttered lightly, as his words and his touches lulled her out of her slight haze. A soft shade of natural blush, far more radiant than the hue brought on by small pinches, came to her face as he questioned her greeting. Oh Papa, of course not She smiled, brightly, giggling happily to the point she nearly was bouncing upon his knee in anticipation of his kisses. I was simply She pursed her lips playfully, making a dramatic expression of thought with a quirked brow and devious glimmer in her eyes, before resting her forehead against his, Commencing the start of our new Autumn greeting She happily declared, in a tone only laced with the innocence of a daughter, but secured within a purr far more enticing. As she moved her small figure closer to her Papas body, she submitted to his palm pressing against her waist, guiding her closer whilst his other hand lingered against her chin. She gazed, captivated by the light in his eyes, before relinquishing her lips quite willingly to his kisses. In the mornings, whomever woke first would come to the bed of the other, waking them most pleasantly with kisses of a similar manner. To awaken with love inspired the Holy Spirit, and soothed the heart most tenderly. At night, the candles could not be extinguished before several peaceful, loving kisses were exchanged, despite the events of the day. One could never sleep with a heavy heart, and kissing provided a most excellent remedy against any lingering ache...Though, Yvette in all honesty could not recall a day spent with ill feeling towards her Papa. In fact, she could not recall a time she ever considered herselfmad. Upset, of course, for she was a blossoming youth with a vigorous curiosity coursing through her veins, and at times she became swept up within a wave of emotion; but even so, feelings of anything but passion and admiration towards her Papa, were only but small thorns which occasionally wedged into her heart; easily removed by the softness of her Papas lips, and at times, the sharpness of his open palm Their foreheads were pressed lightly against one anothers throughout their greeting. Yvettes hands wandering down the curve of his neck, to rest upon his shoulders, gripping them fondly, bringing herself closer to a more intimate proximityAs he spoke however, her fingers seemed to loosen their hold. Her eyes, once closed to further enjoy the bliss of their embrace, now opened and cast shyly aside towards the carpet..Such kind, affectionate praise, pierced like needles against her heart. Withdrawing herself somewhat away from his toying with her curls, an act which typically she would desire to go on for hours..All young maidens adored having their hair played with after all, and Yvette would often lay her head upon her Papas lap while he combed through hersAt that moment however, those needle prickings of his blessings poured out all the guilt trapped within her heart. With a slight pout upon her lips now, the life in her eyes dimming somewhat, she bowed her head against his shoulder, pressing her face shyly to hide against the curve of his neck. Yes Papa Her confession began so easily...In the face of others, Yvette could stubbornly stand her ground in any conversation or argument and come out the victor. She had asked questions that silenced philosophers, tongue tied the greatest of linguists, and baffled many scholars at court with a wit and intellect not typically attributed to a young lady of such beauty. With great refinement, Yvette was able to use words to her advantageBut before her Papa, she regressed. Her voice softened, her mannerisms became slightly timid. Her words failed her now, and not even her truth of, But the spice rack was near emptyI could not prepare a proper Sunday supper without my spices, could hold its weight against her Papas justice. When rules were bent, it was never done with intention to misbehave. They were often encouraged by curiosity, or in the pursuit of a good deed, such as retrieving spices for a better supper, but regardless...A rule was a rule. One occasion she could recall, she had been foolishly lippy with her Papa in response to one of said rules he had quickly smited that act of rebellion with use of his belt instead of his hand Tears were already threatening to arise, clouding her vision slightly before he had even said a word. Such was his power over his little girl, his influence, his importanceBy the time I thought you would arrive home Papa, the markets would have been closed! In desperation, Yvette began kissing her Papas neck, her arms moving to drape around his shoulders as she cuddled her body against his. Lips seeking out that soft spot which caused his body to tremble whenever her lips caressed it...Perhaps it would help to restrain his mood, or else she would have to find a way to use onions in that nights dish to mask any lingering tears, should her uncles choose to arrive earlier than expected

And tremble Aramis' body did, his daughter very much aware of the exact spot on his neck that brought him to shivers. She was such a delight, such a treat, such an angel. His eyes lulled closed for a moment as his mind searched for a way, any possible way to alter the coming events of the night, if he could somehow apologize to his friends and cancel their dinner, if he could have Yvette stoke a fire and the two of them cuddle until its final ember. It had been too long since they shared that intimacy, she kissing along his neck, his face, his lips for hours, his hands caressing her young body, though avoiding a few specific places a daughter ought not be touched. The last time was... four months ago now? Five? Perhaps he would offer it to her again tonight. Perhaps. A quiet cuddling by the fire until dawn, sleeping until near noon. A rare treat with them, rare with intent to keep it special. Though the offer would only come if supper was good and if she acted the part of a lady throughout their guests' visit. He could not cancel on his friends though, Aramis knew. It was too late, and highly improper. They would be here within hours, that much was certain. And because of that Yvette's punishment would have to be upheld. That and the truth that if he allowed her to get away with it now then his rules would mean nothing, and next time she would put on the same pouting face, nibble as the same sensitive spot, and once again hope for his mercy. Mercy came from God, not from her Papa. The priest's soft face grew stern, forced strong, forced out of the lovely haze his daughter's kisses tried so hard to lull him into. His fingers on Yvette's waist gave her hip a firm squeeze to get her attention before speaking, "Up... Up, my dear." The fingers drifted down from her waist to her bottom, slipping between she and his knee to help urge her off, much as he didn't truly desire to. "I am sorry, my darling, but you know how this must go. I do not enjoy punishing you, and I truly wish you would stop making me." Aramis' eyes were closed as he spoke. Truly the show on his face was that this hurt him too, even the words he had to speak, striking at his heart much as he would his little girl's bottom. "If the spice rack were low then you should have noticed it earlier, as the kitchen is your place. And if you had decided not to go unaccompanied and waited for me, and, like you said, the carts would be closed for the day then, then if the food were to suffer you would be faulted with it as well. In either case you have a responsibility to keep things around our home. I do not skimp when you request money for supplies, and if it's a matter of too much for you to keep track of then we can speak once more of bringing in a maid. But as it is, right now, it is important you acknowledge your failure. ...Please, do not detest me for what I must do." He urged her off a bit more firmly now. "Ever the light of my life, I came home early wishing only good, please believe me. But, enough. You have yet to begin preparing in the kitchen and I will not shorten your punishment to accommodate. If our guests must be apologized to due to a late meal it will come from your lips, and you will not spare telling them why. Go now. Up." He took in another slow, deep breath, eyes still closed. "Fetch your rosary, Yvette. Expose your lower half and take your position over this chair which you are so used to by now. Do not linger." Else leather would have to take the place of her father's palm.

Oh how blissful were the nights spent curled within one anothers embraceHours passing in front of the fireplace, as their fingertips explored nearly- every curve and crevasse of Gods masterful craftsmanshipTheir lips caressingTheir noses nuzzling...With only the sound of the fire crackling, soft breaths and gentle laughs of delight to break the ever so comforting silenceTo gaze with such affection into one anothers eyes, was a connection that very few would ever have While Aramis had waited for years Yvette had been blessed, perhaps spoiled, with love for the majority of her lifeNot that love meant any less to the beautiful little angel of course! In fact, love had shaped her into the doting, devout songbird that her Papa cherished so dearly Love serenaded her soul at all hours, in all circumstances. Much like her Uncle Porthos,in his better moods, she held such a vivacious lust for lifeBut as the lesson was in Eden, no man nordaughtercould amount to complete perfectionEven those so painstakingly close, fell from grace at times.. And when they fellthey fell swiftly...Cascading down into turmoil with such tragic elegance, like the Morning Star from Heavens gloryBecoming far more distraught, the further from that warmth of their paradise they fellSuch was apparent, in the glimmering tears in Yvettes eyes as she felt her Papas hand curve beneath her, urging her from the comfort of his lap and the tenderness of his embrace...Her lips quivered slightly as she stubbornly kept her hands upon his chest, her fingers curling slightly as if ready to cling to him with all of her lithe might should he try to separate her from him Her head however bowed as began speaking, her hands reluctantly dropping to her lap..Pressing childishly between her knees as she allowed the softest of whimpers to escape herIn the midst of this lecture, she could still feel the warmth of heavens sun upon her faceShe could hear in the back of her mind, the commandments of Honor thy father, and the sermons addressing obedience..She should be a good girl..Papa was right, it was her responsibility to mind the house and--- What? Hazel eyes now turned up, as if he had struck her right across the faceHer eyes hardened..Her mouth slightly agape in disbelief at what he had just proposed...A maid?Had her Papa plunged a dagger into the maidens heart, her pain would have been much lessSuch a wound from such an affront, Yvette felt as if she had been turned out in the midst of a storm and told never to returnOf course, this was the dramatic jump of which young maidens often leapt to in their already emotional mindsets; maidens especially striving to such perfection as YvetteOf course Papa would never do such a thing! But for sweet Yvette, even his slightest disappointment hurled her into such a state of distressA mindset of extremities that fed like leaches off of her fear of losing his loveThe mention of bringing in a maid had fattened said leaches certainly, and as Yvette rose silently to her feet, walking quietly towards her rosary box...Images of some scantily clad harlot with tits larger than her head, teasing and tempting her Papa to the point of him ignoring her entirely, plagued the young teens heart to the point she felt near faint! Her hands trembled as she picked up the soft pinkened pearls which made up the beads of her silver chained rosaryHer heart frantically fluttering as she turned to look towards her Papas, whose eyes still remained closedFurther separating her from his heart A Maid. Her voice ached, a soft climmering of pearls rubbing together as she twisted her rosary around her nimble fingers..Her eyes casting in all different directions as she walked, trying to settle upon anything that would not spear her with such despair as viewing her Papa sitting so sternly and coldly before her.. Papa there is no need for a maid! I dont want a maid..I dont need a maid! I am perfectly capable of..of taking care of the house! Of you! She paused, close enough to him that the skirts of her gown caressed his knee. Sweet sensitive Yvette, her heart throbbing in her throat as she stood, with her rosary wrapped tourniquetly tight about her wrists, trembling like an exiled angel crawling back towards Gods throne... There was much more to do this morning before Mass than I had anticipatedI..I lost track of time and rushed out without checking the kitchen and..and..Her nails pressed harshly within her own palms, trapping the beads of her rosary, pressing the smooth side of the cross against her wrists as she fidgeted. Apprehension had drastically shifted from a punishment she would have submitted to out of soft guilt, towards some sort of malicious plan of replacement that was clearly the concoction of a spiraling emotional uproar within Yvettes precious heart. Papa it was just onceJust once! Theres no reason to allow somesome scarlet stranger into our house! You are not hers to take care of!

There was much more to do before Mass this morning than she had anticipated. And she had lost track of time. And she'd had to rush. And if he let her, if he allowed her sweet voice and quick wit to do so, Yvette would talk him out of things, talk him into things, and have him completely forgetting the point before a moment's time. Aramis' eyes remained closed still, breath entering through his nose, filling his lungs to be let out in a slow, heavy sigh. Did she know what she put him through, every time she fought it? Was she aware of the pains striking your child caused a father, how it hurt to hit one you cared for so? Or was she only thinking of herself at this moment, of evading a punishment that, in time, would make her a better person for it? Every blow he'd deal her would be like two to himself, both straight to his heart. One day, he hoped, she may come to understand why he must now endure it. "Enough," the priest stated plainly. Aramis' voice was not raised, but rather it was powerful, powerful as it ever was. A man of learning. A man of God. And, when necessary, a man of the blade, they like a trinity that never demanded, but rather earned respect wherever he may go; his home no less than any. "Your father cares for you deeply, Yvette. I will not ask you to calm, not with what is to come, but I will ask you to listen, for right now you waste both time and patience. ...I take no pleasure in this. In truth I take great pain, my hope for arriving home early this evening to embrace you in warmth, not to have to strike my child because she failed to sneak around behind my back." A pause. "Are you sorry?" Another, brief but meaningful. "Ask yourself why. Is it because you failed in your duty or because you were caught?" Enough stalling. Taking another deep, slow breath, a breath of courage, Aramis reached for his young daughter's hand to guide her right up against his side. She would know what was coming. She would know it well, this, he thought in disappointing reflection, an act between them too often as of late. And she would know that at this point any further argument would only make it worse. Aramis' second hand slid to his daughter's hip, to her waist, sliding around to the small of her back which he had caressed so tenderly so that morning upon waking her. Now his hand pressed to it for a different reason entirely, bare palm against her finely woven dinner dress, perhaps not as fancy an outfit as a lady of the King's court but far extravagant by a country girl's standards, urging her to lean forward, at which point she should know to take her position stretched upon his waiting lap. "I have no interest in bringing in additional help, monetarily or out of necessity. You made a very significant stink about the ladies who used to be here several years ago, and you swore to me, swore rather fervently if I remember, that you were a big girl now and could handle it all on your own. How would you ever learn to be a good wife one day, Papa, you asked, if I did not let you try?" He did not shift when she strewn out across him. He simply sat still, back straight and against the chair, though once his daughter was in place his hands shifted, his right now at the top of her back where her shoulder blades came together, open palm resting against the soft cotton of her dress, his other reaching for the hem of her skirts. "And you have done wonderfully so, Yvette. You have proven very capable, and I have enjoyed using the money saved to splurge on you as most fathers only wish they could. Yet I would be letting you down as a father if all I did was spoil you, if I never used a firm hand to remind you of the way of things." The skirts came up, one at a time, pulled over the curve of her bottom to come to rest in a bunched up pile at the small of Yvette's back. "You have your rosary, my love," he stated, hand taking hold of her soft cotton undergarment when that was all which was left, guiding it down over the curvature of her fifteen year old backside. Firm and lovely. Bare and vulnerable. "Use it to make peace." The first strike came quick, without hesitance, for give himself a moment to reconsider and he very well might. "Peace with me." A second raise of his arm, a second falling blow, open palm stinging across the same left cheek as the first. "Peace with yourself." Followed by the third, swift and unforgiving, Aramis' whole body tense. "Peace with God." Perhaps she would never know the pain which winced upon his face with every blow. Perhaps such was for the best.

Enough, Her Papas voice was soft, yet thunderous, like a great storm in Yvettes aching heartHis words sincerely pained by the events which would soon take place; a grief his young daughter always seemed to forget in the midst of her childish panic. As he spoke, she bowed her head. She did not answer his questions, as they were not meant for a vocal responseThey were for her to reflect inwardly uponRhetorical questions which would provide the choir of her punishment. Yvettes eyes focused upon the beautiful rosary trapped between her palmsThe outline of the cross now pressing against her soft skinA symbol of forgiveness... Papa always forgave her... As he reached for her hand, she did not hesitate to take his...A quiet gesture of submission, of which she gently, needily, squeezed for reassurance. She could not speak...Her words lumped shamefully within her throat as she gazed upon him, looking so drained of that vigorous light that always seemed to surround him...Indeed, this act had taken place quite often as of lateMuch more than when she was a young child. It was taking a toll on her Papa... Arguably, her curiosity had grown..Her intrigue of broadening her knowledge treading far too close to the line of mischief than was proper for a young maiden.No doubt however, the surging hormones swirling about within her heart, beneath those supple, blossoming breasts,had more than just a little to do with her somewhat moredaring, nature, as of late..Swallowing lightly, a trembling exhale escaped her lips as she felt his hand sliding up from her hip, towards the small of her back. The lightest touch that earlier just that day had been so comforting, now proved far less innocent in its intentions Yvettes gown was by no means elaborate, though quite flattering upon her slender figure. The design itself was rather simple, though nevertheless an envious piece for many of the young maidens in the countryside. The closest they would ever get to the gown of a Princess, perhapsOn Sundays, Yvette quite enjoyed fancying up for her Papa and her UnclesTo hear their praise was not feeding so much to vanity, as it was to a much more nave desire of a young girl wanting to be pretty. On occasions though, Uncle Porthos would be far too explicit in his compliments, and Papa had quite the growl to his voice when chastising him The bodice of the gown was lined with a simple trimming of golden threaded lace, hugging tightly to her breasts so that they were pressed together and upwards, resulting in a most alluring cleavage..The brocade was of a silken texture, dyed a deep hunter green which seemed to shift to a deep golden color depending upon the light. The stomacher had a lovely pattern of ivy vines and fleur-de-lis cascading across.. The sleeves ended on the curve of her elbow, lined with a gathering of lace which extended only a few inches further down her arm. Had she chosen to wear a farthingale beneath her gown, than her skirts would have no doubt flung up above her head the moment she laid across her Papas lap! However, having a severe distaste for such torturous inventions of false fashion, Yvette had worn only her petticoats that day; as well as a modest stays of course. As she laid herself over Papas lap, she pressed one palm against the floor to steady herself, placing her body in the most comfortable way permissible for such a position. Once steady, she felt him shiftThe hems of her skirts grasped, Yvette clutched tightly to her rosary. He had no need to remind her of its presence..The moment her skirts began being folded upward, Yvette had begun praying..Softly, almost inaudibly, but her lips still moved as her fingers caressed her prayer beads.. O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Savior, forgive my sins, just as You forgave Peter's denial and those who crucified You The skirts had been laid upon her back, Papas hand now upon the band of her undergarments.. C-Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance. Remember not my- The first strike caused a most innocent shriek to interrupt her prayers..Her lips quivering agape for a moment, as she stammered upon her words.. Not..Not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against You. The second strike she was somewhat more prepared for, though her toes curled within her black laced shoes, her ankles crossing over one another as she slightly wriggled upon his lap. II long to be true to Your Word, and pray that You will love me and come to make Your dwelling place within me.. The third caused Yvettes entire body to curl against her Papas legs..Her head bowed as she bit down harshly upon her lip, her knees jutting forward, nearly tucking beneath the chairHer hands, trembling, clutching the rosary upwards above her head. The tears that had threatened to spill, now flowed freely down flushed, pink cheeks..As she spoke the final verse of prayer, her quivering voice was slightly more audible I promise to give You praise and glory in love, and in service, all the days of my life

The pause Aramis' hand found between strikes had little to do with mercy toward his daughter, for her mercy would come from God, not from him, and everything to do with how much a man could endure. Be firm, he would tell himself after every sharp blow to her pale bottom, after every sharp wince that followed. It is the only way she will learn her errors and grow up into a proper lady. A fourth blow. Her high-pitched feminine shriek which filled their home, echoing off the walls, did little good for a father's heart. "I love you," he whispered, eyes closed, his voice so low that barely he could even hear it. They were for himself rather than Yvette. "I simply wish you would behave." A fifth strike, open palm coming sharp across his blossoming teen's bare backside. And blossoming she was, he thought, beautiful and growing more so. After the first few initial strikes Aramis paused in the punishment, but not to let her up. His left palm lowered again to that soon to be reddened ass, to those cheeks his hand would strike at the center of, not yet giving specific attention to either. His palm came to brush upon them, his touch gentle this time, a sharp contrast, before gliding to Yvette's left cheek, encompassing the breadth of it in an outstretched hand. He caressed it, moved in a slow circle about her skin, rubbing, almost massaging his little girl's intimate area. It was important to him, even in the depths of punishment, that she know she is loved, a young woman's heart fragile, easily shifting, yet worth the world. Firm, he thought approvingly, his hand giving her bottom a light squeeze. She would make some man very happy one day. A sixth strike, sharp and sudden. Aramis' hand released its grip on Yvette's left cheek to quickly raise up, and to twice as quick descend, sucking in a breath as he struck her. The first prayer had been a wonderful choice. She would need several more to get through this, though. A seventh blow, his hand very much concentrating on the left side of her curved skin now. An eighth, in quick succession. He took note of his daughter's squirming about, as she would, as she ever did, Aramis' right hand doing what it could to reach to her far shoulder, to hold her upper body across his lap as much as one strong hand could. She would know not to get away though. Squirm all you care, but run and Papa's belt would crack you before you even reached the door. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. The shrieks and choked tears saved her from her fourteenth, though she would not know it. The aging man's heart couldn't. He just... he couldn't, may God forgive his weak lapse. Aramis has indeed raised his arm in the air again but there it paused, breathing in and out, waiting a few seconds until Yvette's pained howls died down before another swing. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. He switched to her other cheek, to her right. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. The minutes passed, as slowly as they ever could. It was amazing how quick they seemed at times, though now, now it amazed him even more at just how much heartache could be fit into a single one. The tears that dotted Aramis' cheeks were silent ones, his face otherwise firm, his eyes closed, never breaking composure for fear a single crack may lose it entirely. They would be wiped away before she could ever see, the sadness trickling on his cheeks. Then, in a sudden spike of frustration, teeth clenched, his right hand moved from her shoulder to her hair, gripping full to Yvette's dark blonde curls. Aramis jerked her head back as his left hand raised up high, forcing her neck taut, forcing her throat to expose. And like that he continued her beating, fast, fast and unrelenting, each new strike coming in swift, hard tandem, allowing no reprieve. Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Another pause. Aramis' breathing came strong and deep. His grip laxed on her curls and took to stroking her instead, running fingers through her soft, very well taken care of hair. The other fell to Yvette's cheeks again, no longer lily white but a considerably brighter color; a degree of blush one rarely possessed on the cheeks on their face. Aramis did what he could, all he could, sadly, to assure her without words that she was loved. Should she come to hate him for this, for even a moment, then the shattering of his heart may prove him not as strong as he may outwardly seem. "I am sorry," he muttered, again to himself, fingers drifting from her hair back down to her dress, again to her back where his touch could caress up and down the length of her dress, from her neck down between her shoulders, down to just above her bottom and back again, tracing tender along the fabric. His other hand did what it could to soothe her backside, ever so soft, light squeezes one might receive from a lover followed by the gentle caresses of his fingers. But then he felt something, something that made him positively shiver. Yvette's more intimate blonde curls. The proof of her blossoming womanhood. Eyes closed the entire time, Aramis hadn't been thinking how close he was until he felt several loose curls from her tuft of hair against one of his digits. His heart froze. His hand instantly pulled away, a quick pang of shame washing over him. Her innocence. It was unintentional. She... she likely didn't even feel it, it was just a few hairs and not her skin. He told himself that, taking yet another deep, heavy breath, though his hand on her back had ceased its ministrations in accordance with the sudden burst of shame. A minute passed where nothing was said. Where nothing was done. Then, his mind forced to steel, his back ever straight against the chair, Aramis silently retook to his task. One hand on Yvette's far shoulder to hold her somewhat steady, the other raising and lowering in an unforgiving spank. It had been seven minutes so far, though he wasn't keeping count. It would be another four more before his little girl's thorough punishment was through. Several paced, spread out strikes would be followed by a brief reprieve followed by several more blows to her opposite cheek. When it was done, when it was finally done Aramis took in a sharper breath, eyes still closed as he spoke. "Stand up, Yvette. ...when you can." A heavy tone to match a heavy heart, eyes never once opening through the lot of it. "Your punishment is over... Please, I want you to stand up in front of my chair with your skirts still raised."

I love you Yvettes body quivered as she pressed her forehead against the cold wooden floor, her hands still raised, fingers twisted tightly around the pearls of her rosaryThe prayer chain shaking slightly within her trembling hands. The words burned her truly worse than his open balm..He spoke with such a tremble to his voice. Her heart was aching, panging with such guilt and remorse nowWhat a wretched child she was, to bring her Papa such painHer lips quivering still, Yvette closed her eyes tightly as tears continued to trickle down her pretty face. Her nose was reddened from her sobs, which she had kept quite quietly for a girl of such..emotion. One would imagine she would be wailing from the way her body was squirming, but it was far easier to bite down upon ones lip than to keep their body still After such a soothing, comforting caress to her pinkened backside, the sixth strike nearly did cause a shriek to escape her lips. Harshly, she bit down further upon her lip, her body once again curling against her Papas lap as her toes curled within her shoes, her ankles crossing to try and keep herself in place but alas, for no use..She could not help but to wriggle, to squirm..Once, when she was a foolish child, she had fled from him in the midst of her punishmentHaving been young, her dress was not as weighted down by layers of silks and tulle. She had managed to reach the door, her fingertips gripping the knob and ready to pull back so she could escape down the hallsbut Papa had swiftly caught her, and perhaps the memory of that pain caused her to yelp more so than the present She could feel her Papa falter, and as she lay trembling upon his lap, breathily repeating her prayer over againShe raised a wrist to her eyes, dabbing away the tears which lingered upon her faceShe had allowed, for a moment, her guard to set downA mistake which she should not have made, for Papas punishments were never so swiftly completed. With heart racing, ringing in her ears, Yvette had not heard that threateningswishwhich would forewarn the blow that she had not been expectingHaving straightened her knees to brace herself to stand, that swift slap folded her body immediately over her Papas lap once more. Nearly dropping the rosary to the floor, the base of the cross did softly scrape against the wood..but Yvette clutched tightly, and as she fought back the urges to simply break down in sobs Such a strive proved difficult, as a sudden surge of animosity consumed her Papa. The Devil in her passing to him, perhaps for the moment being, as he seized her pretty curls in his free hand and forced her up by those lovely tresses. Yvette whimpered, drawing her breath quickly inward, hissing slightlyHer eyes blurred now with those incessant tears, Yvettes lips a reddened shade from the harsh pressing of her teeth..It was wonder she had not split them entirely from how firmly she bit down..Her pretty nails however had indeed broken the skin ever so slightly in some places upon her hands, gripping herself so tightly that her knuckles had gone shades far paler than her normal complexion. Such a sensitive beauty, delicate as a rose despite her stubborn thorns.. As he released her hair, she bent her head forward once again, forehead touching the floor slightly as she turned her face from him. Her curls cascading down from her shoulders, out of his reach, to veil her faceShould her tears trickle down to the wooden floorboards, they would be miniscule, but enough to twinkle slightly in the firelightShe lay very still across her Papas lap, as he relinquished her punishment for the time beingUsing his hands instead to soothe her, stroke her softly..It was almost unfathomable, the way the hands of a father could stir up such varied emotions in his little girlTears of shame, to a heart pattering and swooning with adorationShe did not hate him, by any means. She could never hate her PapaThough all little girls, even those most affectionately besotted by their Papas as Yvette, became upset with their Papas at times As his hands explored her body, the folds of her dress and the burning skin of her sore backside, Yvette lay very still. Her thighs quivering at times, her toes curled tightly within her laced shoesAs the moments passed in near silence, the cracklings of the fireplace was accompanied every so often by her soft weeping..Lost in her own despair, she had not noticed his sudden, rather panicked movement..She had not felt the delicate caress against her most intimate curls..She did however, shy away from the hand he placed soon after upon her shoulder. Burying her face closer against the floor, as if she could vanish or hide from him there..Her legs buckled with each strike to follow, her sobs choked back more audibly now as her entire body quivered with each blowShe could no longer contain herselfHer hands, though still with her rosary draped about her fingertips, covered her face as she sobbed against them, fingers twisting within her curls tightly. But as with all good Papas, Aramis knew when to stopA suitable punishment was not too much, nor too little..but enough to push down all of the walls a little girl could build up. Vulnerable once again, Yvette did not rise when she was permittedSeveral sharp inhales were taken as her lithe young figure sought to regain its composure. Every muscle and every curve was aching.. burning, though none more so than the young maidens heartAnother moment passed before Yvette brought one hand to her Papas right knee, keeping her other arm veiled across her face, hiding herself childishly within the crease of her elbow as she steadied herself, standing slowly as if she feared falling apart there before himHer skirts began to drop as she stood before him, but the hand which had been upon his knee moved to gather them and hold them in place, in a proper manner which would cover her more intimate places but keep her reddened bottom exposed. She did not look at him, though she longed toShe wanted to crawl back onto his lap, and hide her face against his neck for the remainder of the eveningHe would not need to speak; just hold herYet she kept a small distance from him, as she fought to still the remainder of the sobs which seized at her throat..Her hair was a slight mess now, untidy from all the twisting and tugging..Perhaps more appropriate for a woman whom has just been bedded than a young lady recently punishedThere was a glow to her skin, one encouraged by her distress, but a lovely radiance neverthelessYvette felt half her age, with her knees pressed together and her arm vainly attempting to cover her face,..She was completely unaware of how becoming she actually looked after such an ordeal

WoW: The Internal Quests. Vatia sat on the edge of the Goblin Zeppelin as she watched the tower of Orgrimmar grow closer. She had left her home in Eversong Woods to find her fortune in the world. Well really she just wanted someone to teach her about adventuring. Back home every able bodied adventure was off experiencing new things seeing new sights so no one wanted to help a young Blood Elf Rogue learn the ropes. After many failed attempts to work alone (with more than enough times of awakening in the local grave yard) she decided to search out someone to work with. But no one wanted to work with her so she left Silvermoon and tried her luck in Tirisfal Glades. But her hatred of Scourge made it hard to work with the Forsaken even thou they were supposed to be allies, Vatia had seen what the Scourge had done to her people and want nothing of them. So now she was off to Durtar and try to find a partner there. As the Zeppelin pulled up to the tower Vatia reach down and picked up her pack. The heat and humidity were already making her pale golden skin sweet which made her long blonde hair stick to her face. As she was bending over Vatia long ears picked up laughter from behind her. Looking around she saw a Tauren and a Troll looking at her with smug smiles on their faces. Vatia straightened up quickly and started to say something to them for laughing at her. But their eyes still looked behind her. Turning her head Vatia looked to see what they were looking at. Her glowing green eyes widen as she saw that her cape had fell away from her back letting the two males see the curvy of her ass under her tight leather pants. She turned away as she felt her face blush, they werent making fun of her they were admiring her body. Vatia smiled to herself as she remembered the way her fellow Blood Elves had scoffed at the thought of other Horde members ogling Blood elf women. She didnt see anything wrong with it and had been curious about the males of the Taurens, Trolls, Orcs, and even the funny little Goblins. Vatia lifted her pack and walked toward the ramp. She glanced at the Troll and Tauren and saw they were still smiling at her. She smiled shyly back then headed down the ramp and the short distance to the gates of Orgrimmar. Walking into to Orgrimmar for the first time was amazing. The sights and sounds that greeted her made her mouth drop open in surprise. Never had she seen so many different beings in one place. There were vendor shouting to buy the goods. Warriors heading off to the north. Adventures riding in and out. She even saw a few females inviting the men to fellow them to their rooms. Oh, right she remembered what they were. Vatia looked around and saw a guard standing watch by the entrance. She had to shout to ask him were she could find work. He gave her a lopsided grin and asked how much. Vatia looked puzzled at him then glowing green widened and she shook her head make her blonde hair stick more to her pale golden face. She explained what she was looking for and felt sorry as the guard looked at her chest fallen. He pointed her to a tavern close by. Vatia walked into the tavern and was greeted with suspicious eyes and a few admiring ones. She looked around and saw many male and female patrons; some drinking, some talking, and some watching a Troll woman in the corner slowly undressing to the music a Goblin played beside her. Vatia felt jealous as she saw the Troll woman take her top off and noticed her breast were much larger then her. Shaking her head she walked over to where a wooden broad was stuck to the wall. Yellowed pieces of paper were tacked to it. Reaching up she brushed long strains of blonde hair from her face as she looked over the papers. Great they were all in Orcish. Why hadnt she learned to read Orcish without help? Because her people thought it was beneath them. Vatia reach back into one of her pouches and pulled out a small book. At least she could translate the writing with this. Opening it she looked from the first letter then down at the book. She thumbed thru four pages until she found it. This is going to take forever. She said.

Thalgar ran the sharpening stone along the edge of his weapon, sparks falling to the ground from the large double bladed axe. The weapon was already plenty sharp of course, he kept his weapon well prepared for the battle at all times. A warrior is only as good as his weapon and Thalgar was a very good warrior. Muscles bulged underneath his armor, his powerful build obvious even underneath the metal rings of his chainmail. In the heat sweat glistened across his dark green skin, cutting throgh the layers of road dust that constantly filled the air in the grasslands town. Yellow eyes watched the tavern arond him even as his hands worked, keeping an eye on the activity around him even in this semipeaceful setting. Even the top of his body was warlike, shore of hair in order to stop it from interfearing with him in battle. His constant gaze stopped as the elf woman walked in, staring at her as she moved over to the bounty board. She moved with a graceful step, the weapons and her movements declaring her as a rogue. Many orcs looked down on Blood Elves, seeing them as new allies that could not yet be trusted, and weak ones at that. Relying on guile and and magic instead of strength but Thalgar could see the use of them. Yes they did not possess the strength of an orc but he had seen a fireball boil the skin from a man, the posioned dagger slide into the heart. They may not have much honor but they were effective on the battle field. And even though they didn't have the tusks of an orc woman their was something enjoyable about they finally shaped bodies. The heavily muscled orc pushed his seat back, the chair groaning as he released it from his wieght. He shouldered his large axe, slinging the shield andsmaller axe that served as his secondary weapons onto his back as well before he moved across the tavern. The crowds parting around him as his large shoulder pushed through the other patrons, like a ship parting the waves. "The bounty is for pirates. In particular their captain." Thalgar growled to the female elf, his deep voice speaking in the language common to all of the Horde.

Vatia was so intent on the paper she was trying to translate that she hadnt heard someone step up behind her. She jumped and almost dropped her book as she heard a deep voice start speaking to her. She turned quickly to see who it was her hand going to the hilt of her dagger. A orc. She could feel his rumbling voice in her chest as he finished his statement. Oh, thats what it says. Um reads. She winced at how dumb she must sound and turned back to the paper. Sounds like something I could do. Her hand pulled away from her dagger and reached up with her slender hand and pulled the bounty paper down. Vatia turned to look at the Orc again. As she did she smelled the pungent odor coming off his body. She hadnt spent much time around Orcs and never really smelled one so it was a surprise when his musky odor hit her nose. But unlike her fellow Blood Elves, Vatia tried her best not to show her displeasure or surprise. Besides she didnt want to offend him. With a little cough she looked up into his yellow eyes for he was a bit taller than she was. Her glowing green eyes then took in the rest off his features. Dark green skin wet with sweet and covered with dust from. She could see his chainmail strain to hold in his bulging muscles of his chest. A confident looking face with a bald head and two tusk showing on either side of his mouth. A large double bladed axe at his back. Vatia forgot about his smell as she drew in a breath. Despite herself she found him somewhat attractive. She was surprised at how she felt as she looked him over. She blinked her glowing green eyes as she tried to remember what he said. Oh, are you going for this um bounty. As she talked unconsciously Vatia reached up and pushed back her clock from her slender shoulders. Her dark leather vest came down just above her belly button and two straps held it over her pale golden shoulders. The low cut in front showing off her small but nice sweet covered cleavage. Is it always this hot here?

"So a skinny little thing like you is going to go after the pirates hunh? You sure you can do it by yourself?" The large orcs arms crossed across his chest, his thick shoulders squaring up even more with the simple movement. Muscles moving and bulging with the movement. Of course he knew that just because a blood elf was skinny didn't mean much, their small bodies holding more muscle than would be beleiveable. Still while there was grace and experience to her, obvious in her movements, it still spoke to inexperience. The potential was there but the practice hadn't brought it all out yet. "I was thinking about going for the bounty myself, though there isn't any reason that we can't work together. After all the bounty is the same no matter how many of us end up killing him. Besides it doesn't hurt to have some company." The orc couldn't help but having his eyes go up and down her body. After all even if she didn't mean to do it, she had gone from something that covered all over her body to showing quite a lot of flawless smooth skin. Suprising considering her profession. "Yeah it tends to be hot around here. Though you tend to get used to the feeling. So what do you say. Want to team up for this one?" Thalgar cocked his head to the side, looking back into the the elf woman's eyes.

Vatia frowned at the orc. She wasnt skinny, slender maybe but not skinny. She couldnt understand why it bothered her. But he was right about one thing, she couldnt do it by herself. Not unless she want to wake up in the local grave yard over and over again. Her frown vanished as she saw his dark green muscular arm bulge when he crossed his arms. She gulped at the sight of those large muscles at work. She had a feeling that this orc wasnt the brute savage that her people believed his race to be. She listened to what he said next and almost said yes before he finished. Yes, your company would be good. I mean company as in more then one trying it alone. Not that your company would be bad. Just mmm. Im not skinny. Her face felt a bit hotter as she slightly blushed from making such a dumb remake. She then caught his yellow eyes moving over her from top to bottom. Vatia looked down and saw that her leather vest was showing off her small but nice looking cleavage. She felt her blush deepen as her pale golden face became hotter. She quickly and a little clumsily pulled her clock back over her slender shoulders. Then with a weak smile she looked back at the orc in front of her. Oh, it does! Well good. Ive heard that when you get more into the interior that the humidity drops some but the air is drier. Which would be the same as the humidity dropping. Why do I sound like such a dullard now? She thought as she looked back at the paper in her hand. She looked back up into the orcs eyes. That sounds like a good idea to me. Vatia held out her empty hand toward the orc. Im Vatia.

Thalgar grinned as he watched the blood elf woman start to become more and more nervous just by standing in her presence. he coudl hear every gulp that she made, and noticed everytime she stumbled over her own words, knowing exactly where those nervious tics came from. He had met a few blood elves before, mostly a arrogant and snobbish race but a few of the woman seemed to notice the other males in the Horde quite a lot. Their own men were just as feminine as the woman, skninny thigns too and they weren't used the the raw feel of masculinity that the other Horde races had. "I understand what you are saying." The orc responded, noticing how she covered herself back up, the blush spreading across her body, including all the way down her neck to her breasts before the cloak fell back into place. He could tell he was having an effect on her and he hadto wonder how much experience she had with males of any race to being with. "I'm Thalgar. It is good to meet you." The orc's own hand came forward, the massive hand covering the smaller elves hand on its own. It just seemed to emphasize the difference between the two of them, his hands dwarfing her just as his body did. "Do you have everythign that you will need or do you need to pick anythgn else up before we go?" The orc kept her hand in his own, the small and silken smooth skin feeling good versus his own rougher skin.

Vatia looked at the orcs smile and realized what it may have meant. It wasnt the arrogant smile of someone who looked down on her. No it was interest in her. Could he find her attractive? The thought of that would make other Blood elves cringe with disgust but Vatia found it exciting. Maybe they could Vatia gulped again. Hello Thalgar. Nice to meet you too. Vatia looked down and saw her slender hand was engulfed in his larger hand. The contrast of their skins, pale golden to dark green, fascinated her. The skin on her hand tingled from the way his rough skin moved over her silky smooth skin. She wondered what it would feel like to have those rough hands touching other places on her body. Her face became hot again at the thought. She didnt even try to pull her slender hand out of his large one. Part of her didnt want to. His hand felt strong and warm wrapped around hers. And she didnt mind that he smelled of traveling. As she watched him a small bead of sweet ran down her neck and in between her small breast. No I just got here from the Zepplen a little while ago. I havent even found a place to stay. She nervously wiggled two fingers from her other hand to show some one walking. Straight here. Looking for you. She closed her glowing green eyes as she stuttered. Looking for work, that was what I was doing. She reached up and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. As her fingers touched her long ears she realized how hot they felt. Great her blushing was spreading. Vatia pulled her hand back down and smiled at Thalgar again. I um shouldnt need anything before we go. She winced a bit as she tried to hide the fact that she didnt know if she did or not. As she watched him a small bead of sweet ran down her neck and in between her small breast.

Thalgar knew what kind of effect that he was having on the Blood Elf. He wasn't skilled in the ways of women, the ways of battle taking over instead but he certainyl knew a few things. Orcs tended to be a bit more direct in their romance as well but he could see the heat rising through her body as she blushed. Could feel the fact that she wasn't dropping his hand even though they had been touching for longer than normal now. He could even follow the line of sweat as he slipped down her thin neck and slid between her breasts before it disappeared from view. "Well what ever you were looking for little rogue I think we can get it." Thalgar grinned, his teeth and tusks obvious with his wide grin. He adjusted the straps to his pack and made sure that his weapons would draw easily from their sheaths. He carried plenty of them but it was hard to know which one he would need at any time. "No point waiting if you got everything. My mount is outside so you can just collect yours then we can ride." The large orc turned away from Vatia and walked out of the inn. The exit to the great orc city wasn't very far away from the inn so it was a quick walk outside of the city. And there was his mount, a large silver gray wolf standing beside the hitching post outside. As soon as Thalgar stepped out the wolf threw its head back, the reins slipping from the post and the large animal walked over, butting its head against the orcs chest. "Vatia this is Thress."

"Shut up." Ignoring him. Grading tests? He'd give her something to grade... Smirking, or rather sneering to himself, Seifer tore a sheet of paper from his notebook and crumpled it up into a ball. The makeshift projectile left his hand, in search of the teacher. "...Isaaaiid...shut up," Seifer repeated, though Quistis, or 'Ms.Trepe' as the pompous bitch preferred, hadn't even said anything. It was fun to taunt her though, to poke and prod and see how close he could get her to losing it before she took a breath. She'd just been up there, keeping to herself. Keeping him here, when there was no goddamn reason to be. So he and his 'welcoming committee' had taken it upon themselves to show that new girl around Balamb. So they'd convinced her that the boys locker room was really the girls locker room. So they'd tricked her into going inside and undressing just in time for the period to end, and in time for about fifteen sweaty guys to come in after practice, seeing her with who knows how little on. And so, when she cried for directions to the headmaster's office, they instead gave her directions to the training grounds. ...So what? It wasn't Seifer's fault she couldn't take a joke. Or take one of the T-Rexaurs by herself. What a kid. Yet he was getting shafted for it, and got nailed with a month of detention. How many days had it been now? ...forty-three minutes? Well,fuck. Seifer tore and rolled up another paper ball into a gloved hand. To this one he added something a little extra, a wad of phlegm, tossing it halfway across the room in hopes for Quistis' head. The foot on his desk, his chair on a tilt, helped with the arc of his throw. Snickering to himself, Seifer called out, "How 'bout you just let me the hell outta here? You hate me, and I sure as hell ain't a fan'a yours, blondie." The pompous bitch. She was like what, a year older than him? She wasn't some 'adult', at least not in the sense that it took to run a classroom. No one respected her. Maybe if he was a female he'd be able to blow the headmaster to get a promotion too. "Unless you're some masochistic cunt who gets off on me calling you names and throwing things at your head when I'm bored, and trust me, this ain't the most exciting thing I've ever had to be a part of, you can let me just leave now and we'll both be happy." "Look, I'll even lay low for awhile." A lie. "No one even has to know I'm out. I'll go catch a flick, or sit in my dorm and read some gunblade magazine or somethin'." Or find that brunette bitch and torment her further for not being able to take a joke in the first place. "How 'bout we just call things where they are? I mean, shit. Feels like a month already tome..."

Instructor Trepe, or Quistis, simply sat and graded the papers turned in by her class earlier in the day. Seifer, her most obnoxius and trouble-making student, had been caught tormenting the new transfer. Now she was stuck baby-sitting the little punk as requested by Headmaster Cid. She respected the headmaster enough to not refuse his requests. Both times he chucked the balls of wadded paper, she simply lifted her grade book to let them bounce off to the desk or floor. She lowered the book the second time, glaring at him from behind the lenses of her glasses. His attitude and actions were beginning to irritate her, not to mention the way he spoke to her.No onetalked down to her the way Seifer did. So what if she was only a year older than most her students. So what if she was an eighteen-year-old instructor. That didn't give this little shit any reason to be treating her this way. Though Seifer had always had problems with authority figures, he always seemed to take his hate out on her. Talking to her like some stuck-up bitch who thrived on making him suffer. Hah!This was the last place she wanted to be. However, as a instructor - whether rookie or not - she had to fufill her dutiess and administer his month of detention as punishment. Her eyes slid to the clock and inwardly she groaned.Fourty-five minutes?It had only been fourty-five minutes and already she was beginning to become pissed at the young gunblade user. How was she going to do this for a month? Quistis turned her eyes back to Seifer as he began to try and talk his way out of detention. She knew better than to believe his words. He was more than likely lying just to get out of here. "You're not going anywhere. You were given a punishment for your despicable treatment of one of our students. As your instructor, I will make sure the punishment is administered," she replied simply, marking something down in her open grade book. She didn't even bother to look up at him as she spoke. No doubt, given the burning hole she felt, he was glowering at her like a caged beast. Simply continued marking her papers, for the most part doing her best to ignore him.

"Cuuuuuuunnnnttttt," he called out, palms cupping either side of his mouth as if he were calling to someone across a field, and with an extra emphasis on the 't'. Would that get her attention? After a moment Seifer smirked, smirked openly, brazenly challenging her authority. And then he shrugged. And then he cocked his head to a side with the confidence that made him so likeable, and began to speak with the bluntness that had earned him the admiration of his peers. Some of them anyway. Some of them were babies, or punks, and didn't matter much in the longrun. "Hey, you know why people don't like you,Ms.Trepe?" Oh, that pronunciation had something to it alright. Something nasty. Something just begging her to bite, to show that he was getting to her. "It's because you're a bitch. No, really, follow me on this one." The smirk widened. Fine. She could keep her head down, grade her papers, or at least be pretending to. He knew she was listening. "What are you, like ten, eleven months ahead of me? That's not even a full year. And here I am, head of my class when it comes to field exams, ace'n any challenge Garden puts me up against, and yet you're two steps up the ladder ahead of me. People see that, you know. They resent that. They resent the fact that you're a chick, not 'cause you're a chick that's in charge, but 'cause you probably got those two promotions while on your knees." And there it was. That would get a rise. Snap a pencil, cause a vicious glare. Something. And like a viper with the scent of blood, Seifer continued, all of this just a game to him, a relief of boredom. "Look, it ain't nothin' personal. I don't like you, but that's beside the point. People talk. They say you probably blew old man Cid a few times to get where you are, and you know what? People resent that. Especially guys like myself who bust their ass and carry the rest of 'em out in the field, yet I gotta sit here and put up with you? What the fuck kind of relevancy does all your paperwork have when I'm the one makin' things happen? See, if you can give good head,Ms.Trepe, or if you got a nice tight little twat, then more power to ya. Just don't be all high and mighty about your job, out to make my day shit just 'cause you can." Seifer cast a quick glance to the clock. Fourty-eight minutes. That means another fourty-two of this, of her. Of just them. And then another day of it, every day, for the next goddamn month. This was going to get the rise he sought because it had to. Tick. Tick. Tick. The second hand was beyond irritating. One of them had to snap. One of them had to, if only for something to do.

Ooooh,he was pushing buttons indeed. He knew damn well he was. She could hear beneath the nasty tone of his voice that he was amused by his instigating words. He wanted her to snap at him. He was testing her patience and her patiencewasbeing tested. Sorely so. Don't let it get to you, she reminded herself, though that sentiment was short lived. When he insinuated that she got where she was by sucking cock and spreading her legs, her fingers tightened so hard on her pencil, that it snapped in two. Her head lifted long enough for her to send the little shit a glare, handing reaching to take another pencil from her desk. "Say what you want, I won't matter. Doesn't change the fact that I'myourinstructor. Doesn't change the fact I passed the SeeD test at 15, two whole yearsbeforeyou - wait, you haven't even passed it yet, so it's two years and counting." The words were all said calmly, though she meant to insult him as he had insulted her. "I got to where I am by hard work and dedication, not spreading my legs like a common whore. Not that you know what hard work or dedication is like," she mused as she lowered her eyes back to the grade book. Marking something here or there. Fifty-two minutes now. Was it going to be this way the entire month? God, she hoped not. Quistis would end up killing him where he sat, if it was. She could not take a month of him insulting her, questioning her chasity(or lack there of), and the like. It was pissing her off. She was ever the cool, frigid bitch, or cunt as he liked to call her. She wasn't about to lose her license over someone like him.

O-ho!And there it was. He'd gotten a rise. A few rises it seemed, and back to back, each of them like sweet candy. What to do now? Things were escalating. Escalating, by his hand. Interesting. Entertaining. He'd been in this position a thousand times before. One of them would back down, acknowledging the other as the alpha, and then Seifer would smirk in relishment of his victory. That's how it went. That's how this would go. So, he just had to take things to the next step. Whatever that was. He'd wing it. Seifer stood from his seat with her comments, slowly, deliberately slow, narrowing his eyes on his teacher. On his jailer. What the hell was he going to do? Take a breath. A deep one. Keep his back straight, his eyes on her. The dissatisfied glare was often enough, didn't need anything with it, not initially. That gave him time to think. He stood from his desk and shuffled aside, out of the way of the seat, eyes on Instructor Trepe. "Cunt," Seifer repeated as he approached her desk, a saunter to his step, long grey coat swaying slightly with the movement of booted feet. Was it loud enough to be heard? Maybe. It just kind of came out, but it fit. Fit her well. "I'm gonna say something,Ms.Trepe, and I'm gonna say it once. ...I'll say it once because I don't like having to repeat myself," he said as he reached her desk, bringing a leg up to sit upon the edge. "And I'll say it once because I'm the type of person that demandsrespect." With that Seifer reached forward a gloved palm, cupping Quistis' chin and cheeks within his fingers. He turned her head to him, away from her goddamn papers, away from whatever else a frightened doe might look at to forget about the wolf. He made sure she looked at him as he spoke. "That's twoand counting because despite how great I am at the field exams, I still got bitches like you holdin' me back, demanding I meet some certain bullshit criteria on paper... Wellfuckyour papers, you whore! You know what they mean in the field? Nothing!" He released her face from his grip, though remained intimidatingly close, literally half-sitting on the side of her desk. Right on top of the pile of papers she was correcting. "Apologize."

As far as Quistis had been concerned, the conversation had been over at the point. She didn't listen to him, didn't even acknowledge that he was speaking to her. What was the point? All he was doing was trying to make her snap at him, to make her lose the cool she was well known for. She didn't even look up when she heard his boots padding across the floor. He didn't give her a choice in ignoring him any longer as he placed himself on her desk and grabbed her chin,makingher look at him.Arrogant ass. He deserved to be shoved out on his ass.Hah!See how far he made it without thosepapershe spoke so bitterly of. She simply stared at him as he spoke, giving no hint of emotion as he forced her to look into his eyes. When he let go, she stood, palms on the desk. "I'm not apologizing to you," she said calmly. "You are arrogant. Selfish. And cruel. All these years you've been held back is because of those things. Sure, your paper scores suck, but you can't just get anything you want by force. It takes brainsandbrawns. Every respectable SeeD knows that." Her eyes were narrowed as she spoke to him. Hoping the words hit home. No way in hell was she going to apologize to him. "Now get off my desk and get back to your seat."

Where was this going? Where was it going... He didn't know. In too deep to back down. In too deep to write it off. Oh boy. What a bitch this one was, just couldn't accept defeat, could she? "No," he said simply, slamming a gloved palm down onto the desk just inches from her hand. He did stand though, despite his adamant declination as to otherwise. Seifer stood but didn't return to his seat. Rather, he moved to stand close to Quistis. Beside her. Right beside her. Intimidatingly close, making sure his hot breath could be felt upon the skin of her soft feminine neck. "You'd be surprised how much you can get... by force. And I'm not going anywhere, Ms.Trepe, until I have that apology from you." Ms.Trepe. Ever the arrogant bastard, Seifer smirked, knowing how every time he spoke her name in such a way it must come across as nothing short of a viper. Stinging, and establishing himself further. "Name-calling... Insulting my scores..." Seifer hooked her chair with a corner of his foot, taking advantage of her already standing, and kicked it aside. The chair skidded back a few feet before toppling over an end. "Apologize." A stray hand wandered upon the curve of the half-bent instructor's rump, giving it a slow, gentle caress. "We don't have to spend the next month arguing, you know..." When was the last time they'd been this close? "Wecould try to get along."

He was pushing it too far now. She knew that, but didn't let it show as he stood so close that his hot breath fell across the skin of her neck and shifted the strands of her blonde hair.Apologize? Hah! Not for the same shit he pulled daily. Hell no.A supressed shudder. Another glare. Her hands fisted on her desk. And then he had the nerve to caress her ass, as if he had some right to her. Angrily, she smacked his hand off of her shapely behind with a - "Don't touch me." She stood straight, refusing to let the arrogant bastard intimidate her. "For the last time, I'm not apologizing to you. Especially not for the same shit you pull on medaily," she said as she stepped back from him. "Force isn't going to get you anywhere in this world and the sooner you realize that, the better. Especially if becoming a SeeD is what you want." Her eyes narrowed at him from behind the lenses of her glasses. She tucked her hair behind an ear and then stubbornly crossed her arms across her ample breasts. "I am your instructor, Seifer. You are my student. Now, get back to your seat," she told him. If he didn't listen and continued this assualt - if that is what you could call it - on her, she would have no choice but to report him to Headmaster Cid. Which would ultimately result in suspension, or him continuing his detention under a different instructor. When he made no move as of yet, she glared harder. "Back. To. Your. Seat."

Back. To. Your. S- Slap! It was he who slapped her, Seifer who slapped Quistis. She wanted to be the one in charge?Shewanted to be the alpha here, so much so that she wasn't going to step down? Then he'd demasculate her. It was done in an instant. It was done without thinking, and once it was done Seifer continued onward, quickly onward, winging it, as pissed with her pompous ass as she may have been with him. After he slapped her, slapped those glasses right off her snotty face, Seifer shoved her backward. Then he took a step toward her before Quistis could reel very far, all of it within a very brief moment, grabbing a fistful of blonde hair and jerking her back toward him, toward the desk. Shifting, Seifer placed his other hand back on her shoulder and forced his teacher forward, placing pressure on her shoulder until she was forced to bend over it completely, cheek upon wood. And then he moved to stand beside her. And then he was pressed up against her, full crotch against the firm ass held tight in her peach skirt, hard chest against her back, pinning her down. So fast. Such a bitch. She deserved it. She deserved... deserved... whatever came of this. He didn't goddamn know. "Apologize," he repeated, pinning Quistis down against her own desk with his body weight, "or I'm gonna make you wish you had."

The slap surprised her. Completely stunned and surprised her. Her head snapped to the side as the pain exploded in the left hand side of her face. The force of it caused her glasses to fall to the ground. She didn't get much time to dwell on it as his hands shoved her back. She stumbled and then glowered, but before she could do anything, he had ahold of her. Gritting her teeth as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pain reeling as he shoved her towards the desk. Quistis was a fighter too, she wasn't about to let him get his way. This waswayover doing it. Hehadto know that. The mature teen didn't have nearly as much strength as Seifer however, so, even though she squirmed and did her best to free herself, she still ended up with her body bent across her desk. Her throbbing cheek pressed against the wood. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, nails digging in angrily. Her eyes widened as he pressed his crotch against her ass, held tightly in the tight confines of her peach skirt. Her breasts were being pushed into the desk as he pressed harder down on her. Despite his grip and her strength, she did her best to push back against him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? This iswayout of line, Seifer! Let me up now!" she snapped, angry, even as pain registered from the way he was pinning her. "Let go, damnit! I have no reason to apologize! Get off of me this instant!"

"No." Simple. Firm. "I'm tired of your fucking attitude,Ms.Trepe.I'm tired of you thinking you're some fuckingboss." One hand pressed to her right shoulder, sliding gradually to her upper back, keeping Quistis pinned in that bent over position. The other was on the side of her head, his palm on her cheek and jaw and his fingers lacing into tightly pulled blonde hair. Too far now. Seifer kept his hand pressed against the side of her face, keeping Quistis' opposite cheek pinned against the desk as he wondered what the hell they -he- were going to do next. Though, before he could dwell on the thought for long his body was quick to step up, quick to answer that for him. She must have felt it. She must have realized what was next about the same time that he did, with him pressed up behind her, with her struggling back. With her firm ass held within that peach skirt pressing back against his crotch, trying to get away. Igniting it. Exciting it. And by the time he realized just how he was pressing back it was already too late. He was aroused. Hard. Pressing his thick dick against her ass and thinking about the few layers of clothing that kept them separate. And once that train of thought began, there was nothing else his mind was able to think of. "Time someone put you in your place... I think..." he said with a wry smirk, letting the hand slide from Quistis' upper back around to her ribs, then to her front, just beneath her breasts to rub an open palm across her belly. He made sure to keep his weight against her back and his hand on her face as the other lingered on her abdomen for a bit, on her flat stomach, violating her person with his touch. Her soft, feminine person, despite how much she tried to be a hard ass. Seifer took a slow, deep breath, inhaling with his face inches from Quistis' ear, letting her hear, letting herfeelhis breath. "Cunt," he whispered, that hand leaving her belly, gloved fingers sliding down the front of her skirt. "Feel free to apologize," he continued in a heavy, breathy tone, his palm sliding deep enough to cup her crotch in his palm, to rub at the soft warmth of her vaginal lips through her panties, "any time now..."

This was way past anything she had expected Seifer to do. Even with his history of cruelty, she never thought he'd resort to this. His hot breath fell against her ear, his favorite word to call her -cunt- invading her senses.God. She hated that word. It was demeaning. Uncalled for. Seifer was just somekidwith superiority issues. His touch on her skin made her shudder. Not with pleasure.Never that. More with disgust and repulsion. Thenerveof him. Her nails dug deeper into the wood. As much as she wanted to throw him off of her, she could not. Seiferdidhave the strength he often boasted about. His hand in her hair, the other on her shoulder, kept her effectively pinned to the hard wood of her desk. Her breathing was fast and quick, almost panicked now, with the ridge of his erection pressing against her firm ass. Dear god, not this. Anything but this. His hand was sliding down now. Going beneath the confines of her peach skirt. Treading upon ground that had not been touched by anyone other than herself. Too wrapped up in being a child prodigy, too busy with studies; she had never sought attentions of the sexual sort. Not when she could take care of the urges on her own. Now, here was a student, forcing his attentions to her most intimate area. When his gloved hand touched her, she immediately squirmed. Trying to get him off her. "You wouldn't stop, even if I apologized. So why should I?" she snapped out. God, she just wanted him off her. "Get off me! You will get expelled for this! Is it worth it? You won't gain anything from this, Seifer.Not a damn thing." She wasn't about to let him think he was gaining anything from this...this...whatever this was that he was doing. He wanted to put her in her place? Demean her? Disgrace her? Well, she wasn't going to make it an easy victory, if a victory at all.

"I'malreadygetting something from this," he said with snickering laughter, laughter that came with hot breath right upon her ear. "You don't see it, do you? How fucking terrified you are. Things start to go bad and here you are, fucking powerless to stop it... and people are supposed to follow you?" He pressed down on the side of Quistis' face, adding insult to insult, reinforcing an already total dominance. "You're not a leader. It's that type of weakness that gets people killed,Ms.Trepe." Through the whole speech Seifer's other hand had remained shoved beneath Quistis' peach skirt, cupping her crotch through her panties, massaging her hot vaginal lips within his palm. Fucking lovely. His hand left her now, though, but didn't stray far, moving to the zipper of her skirt to pull that metal gate down its jagged teeth. "And at this point I bet you I'm expelled no matter what, isn't that right? Tch. Just as you say apologizing ain't gonna get you anything, me stoppin' now won't amount to much either. So I might as well enjoy humiliating you while I can." Had Quistis not given in to her fear yet, the sound of her zipper running down its jagged-toothed track surely would have to strike a chord. Seifer grinned to the sound. He pulled her skirt down, down over the hump of her ass, but left it still hugging her thighs rather than pulling it all the way down. There was something psychological about it, a notion that she didn't have to be naked to be vulnerable - if he could fuck with her in the longterm, and not just here and now, things were just that much sweeter. Seifer brought his hand up to his mouth, gripping the gloved fingertips between his teeth to then pull the hand free. He took the glove and dropped it uncaringly on the desk, delving his hand back between his teacher's thighs, around her waist and down from the front. Quickly he retook her pussy lips back into his palm, massaging her through the thin cotton of her panties. "I'll tell you what though, I'm gonna make you a deal, Ms.Trepe. You want a reason to apologize? Here we go." The grin widened. Every word Seifer spoke was barely an inch from her ear, his hot breath tickling upon her skin, "You've got two very appealing holes back here, bitch, so much so that I can't seem to decide which one I want... Up your ass would probably hurt a bit, wouldn't it? In your twat though... You're probably a virgin, aren't you? Fucking stuck up and uptight, it's no wonder. It's obvious no one ever fucked you good. Mmm. Apologize to me for being such an asshole and I'll let you choose which I take. Make it convincing, and maybe I'll even lube it up some instead of just takin' you raw."

This whole encounter was beginning to look a lot worse than she had imagined. Quistis had figured that Seifer was human enough to come to his senses and stop what he was doing before it was too late. However, given the words he spewed to her now, that looked as if it wasn't going to happen. In fact, he seemed more determined now, than before, to continue upon this course of action. Now was when she was beginning to see that there was no way out for her. Sure, she could fight him off, or try, but Seifer was a great deal stronger than she. More than likely, he would still get what he wanted from her, she would just have more damage to her if she chose to fight back. As he expected, it was the sound of her zipper than made the fear blossom within her breast and spread along every nerve in her body. By some miracle she managed to keep from shaking as he pulled her skirt down over the nice curve of her bottom. His hand went back to caress the ever growing moistness between her thighs, despite her mental screaming denial of any pleasure her body may be feeling from his touch. His following words, however...caused her to physically quake. He was right; Quistis had always been awkward around the male sex, never got much time to date - more like no time - with everyone fawning over her as a prodigy. Though she did not want this, her body had long been starved for a touch such as this. It was in all human's nature to procreate; if they didn't know it, their body did. Quistis gulped, loudly, and decided she may as well go for the lesser of two evils. Having her virginity taken would hurt, no doubt about that, especially with Seifer taking it this way, but to have him fuck her ass, that was out of the question. "N-no! Please don't, not my ass, please. I'l do whatever you want," she pleaded. It seemed that, at last, her pride and stubborn streak had ended. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated it, trying not to shake as she was molested and pressed down into the hard exterior of the desk. Despite her denial of it, her pussy reacted to his touch and began to grow a slight damp to his touch. She barely managed to hold tears back, as well as the urge to strike out at him, though she was physically unable to do so. Her chest heaved as panic began to settle in some. "Please, believe me, I'm sorry!" she pleaded outloud, desperate to get him to believe her. If he didn't, it meant the worst for her. "I'm sorry!"

I didn't fake my death. Someone killed me. But you should know I don't stay dead for long sweetie. It seemed that the song playing was absolutely perfect for her mindset right about now, the Iceberg Lounge full of precious members of the Penguin's 'army', penguins waddling around and causing a general discomfort for those who actually wanted to go out on the dance floor and dance. Thankfully, the penguins were smart enough to stay out of the way and avoid such a place at all times. They knew better; Because in Ivy's point of perspective, she WOULD step on one of them. Taking a soft drink of the alcoholic beverage, the cool taste slipped down her throat, licking her full lips gently to settle in the sweet taste, her periphials catching a man watching her. Evidently, she was catching attention without very much of an attempt to try. Her thick locks of red tucked away in a fedora, the woman's sunglasses covered a majority of her face, because believe it or not, it was hip to wear sunglasses inside; That was not her reason of course, but it didn't give her any odd stares. She could hear Oswald laughing only a few booths away from the bar, knowing he was enjoying the business that was coming in thanks to all these people in his club tonight. " She be like 'I be, I be, I be, on that money shit.' " Smiling softly at this lyric of the song, her eyes looked up from behind the sunglasses, one of the numerous icebergs shooting from the ceiling containing exactly what she needed. Oswald thought he was clever, hm? The heels of her shoes clicking softly as she stood up from her place at the bar, her eyes then focused on the man not so far from her, and whom had been giving her the eyes for some time. Her soft lips curling into a smile, the woman leaned forward and let her lips part softly, "Not in your life." With her words, her fingers gripped his face gently watching his eyes bulge slightly before rolling back into his head. Evidently, she still had it; Although she had to put a bit of force into it, and she could feel the something of a strain in it, she knew she still had it. Having only been alive for less than a day, and already she was planning things like the true woman she was, her mind working around just who in the world had taken the time to try and off her, however there was nothing like going off one by one and finding who did it. She knew it wasn't that wretched Bat. Although he was a hero, he was more fond of having her tossed into that worthless Asylum, and considerably, she hadn't done anything bad before she died. The man falling to the ground, unheard to those in the lounge as she moved through the people on the dance floor, looking up only once to find vines slipping through the cracks in the ice above them; Thieving woman, she was. She might as well get herself a little money in this as well, hm? Black and white vertical striped suit pants over her lower half, a black suit jacket was loose on her upper half, giving the person in front of her an occasional peek to see that she was wearing nothing but a dark green silky bra that had taken the dare to hold her at least D cup. A smirk on her lips as she moved through the dancing people and around the pain in her arse penguins, a flower was pulled from her pocket, full in blossom as she stopped in front of one of the Penguin's actual human guards, tossing the flower into the Penguin's drink. Her lips pressing against the man's, her hand gripped his jawline, smirking into the kiss that was evidently unexpected, the woman pulled away, her back to the table as the guard dropped to the ground, "What in the he-" "Find who killed me Oswald. Or you're next on my kiss and kill list." She spoke, pulling the hat off her head and letting her hair fall, tossing the hat back and shifting through the crowd as he sent his penguins in an angry search for her. "FIND her!" But surprisingly, he wouldn't find her. He, nor his worthless penguins would. Faithfully, Ivy had made her way calmly out of the club and disappeared within the park, the flower she had left only blooming at this time of year in a certain place in the park; However, she knew for a fact that Oswald didn't know that.

Scarecrow... scary-eyed Joe.. scaring all of the birds away.... Johnathon Crane had been watching, and he had slipped out of the bar very quickly to watch Ivy moving down the street now. He knew her, and was for some reason the only person who every got away with calling her "Pam" or "Pammy", short for Pamela from her days before she became Poison Ivy. It was something strange, but he did not abuse the privilege by doing it in front of others. He had helped her with some of her toxins, but one he had not asked permission about had a very bizarre side effect on him and he had not meant for it to happen. It was only after he learned she had been killed that he found that the adrenaline in his blood activated the side effect... or perhaps he should say side effects. He had always been lanky and gangly, and it made him unattractive to women.. but something happened. All of his years exposed to natrual chemicals and extracts, combined with his exposure to Ivy in the times he helped her had caused it. his body went from gangly and awkward to lithely muscular like some of the dancers he admired. He was tone but not bulging, and his bones were now reinforced at the joints for greater strength and grace of movement. It also had caused growth, putting him at least another two inches taller than her, making his height slightly more than half a foot over her. The growth also was in his manhood, a growth spurt that his years of introversion had suppressed and was awakened at his rage at her death. His assistants, both male and female, stayed at arms length while his anger and transformation lasted. His anger merely subsided, but the "improvements" to his body made him not unrecognizable, rather it gave the appearance that he actually filled out his own body and made him much more like a real man. When one of Ivy's henchmen who had guessed at Crane's desire for his "employer' called him, he had to come and see for himself. He had taken the time to snag a stash of gems for himself from where he guessed that the Fat Fowl hid them, all of them totally stolen and nothing the Bird would dare write on an insurance claim. They would need a lot of funds to get revenge. As he followed his Ivy, he wanted to help her. He suspected who had killed her, as only three of the villains in Gotham had stayed behind at the meeting and all were mad enough to try it. He moved with a surprising amount of grace as she moved to the park. He and she had a bond, something that set the both of them apart from the rest of them. He watched closer, having been able in the months to learn better skill and hiding and following. When she was where he knew she would go, he came out of hiding, his costume fedora on his head. "Pam... I want to help you." Her green eyes.. her reddish hair that almost looked auburn... her lovely supple and tone skin... he wanted her already, but he had the discipline not to act yet.. not till she saw how she made him better and more useful to her as more than just help.

Of course she could hear someone moving behind her, however she knew for a fact that it damn sure wasn't any one of the Penguin's henchmen. They would be running, or waddling for better terms. Licking her lips softly, the female moved further into the park, the trails that were often less traveled by nervous Gothamites not ready to get snatched up as they so worriedly feared; Please. Ivy had better things to be doing. Smiling softly as a large, and by large the flower's size was at least half of Ivy, was in full bloom and holding all the contents of the safe that had been hidden above them in the icebergs, looking between a set of pink flowers and giggling softly. She knew whoever it was behind her had seen such a thing, however if she felt any threat, she wouldn't mind taking the chance of him not making his way out of the park tonight. When the man finally spoke, her eyes did not bother to turn and look at him, though the sound of a petname rang out in her head, knowing only a select few bothered to know her actual name. Harvey Dent, Harley Quinn, who only got away with calling her 'Pam - Pam' or 'Red', and then there was. . "Jonny Crane~" It broke the tension of her plants, though that didn't mean they weren't all a bit still on edge as far as making sure their Ivy stayed safe; No need to have her out and about roaming with someone who quite possibly could've killed her. Despite knowing that he probably hadn't been the cause of her death, her head turned to look over her shoulder, a soft smile falling onto her full lips when she reminded herself that he wanted to help her. Turning her body completely, no matter which angle you looked at the newly revived woman, she was still dangerously sexy. Her bare stomach and upper torso exposed for him, leaning back against a tree for a moment, the female's back arched and her head tilted softly to the side, "You want to help me Jonny Crane?" Lips forming into a soft smile, the female moved quickly, a park bench having been uprooted and moved behind him, she pushed him gently into sitting before straddling his lap carefully. Her fingers trailing along invisible lines of his shirt before gripping his collar gently, giving it a forceful tug as she loomed over him, a blank expression on her pretty face. Making a mental note to keep in her head that he wasn't exactly the Johnathan Crane he used to be, perhaps this was something he would be telling her now upon his visit, her breasts pressing against his chest as she asked with her eyes staring into his, "You want to help me Jonny Crane? I do recall it being the other way around," She spoke thoughtfully, tapping her lips softly as her rear planted itself firmly in his lap, tapping her lips again as her arms rested comfortably on his shoulders, "You've gotten mighty big though Jonny. What have you been eating?" She murmured, her green eyes staring at him with a hint of curiosity residing behind them.

He smiled, a bit of wicked pleasure in both his eyes and lips as he suddenly moved his hands to her waist and kissed her very wantonly, pressing his lap up against her as he did. She did not know the half of what was now different about him, and when her kiss did not make him sick, it may dawn on her some of the changes that had happened to him. He had been waiting far too long for this, and now that she was initiating something, he was going to really enjoy things as they progress. He was already starting to feel himself swell in his jeans, and as he moved, he was shifting and using his hands on her waist to hold her in place as he pined her to the bench. His voice was deeper than before, husky with want as he kept looking into her eyes and spoke. "It is more than what I have been eating, Red... it is also what our chemical collaborations have done to me as well. I want you to trust me, and in order to do that, you are going to have to accept my having total control of this body starting tonight. I do not expect you to do that without my showing you what you will get out of it... So you better unzip me and see what I have for you." He moved his hands down to her very ample breasts, squeezing and kneading them with his hands. He waited for her to do as he told her to, his new-found assertiveness caused both by his hands on her luscious globes and by the fourteen by five inch tree trunk of a cock he wanted to use on her now. He had never been circumcised, so that would be an added primal cherry on the cake of his Domination of her starting tonight.

There was a twinge of surprise shooting through her body when his newly muscled hands gripped at her hips and his lips pressed firmly against her own, within this sort of kiss, there was the general type of way that the woman would kill someone. Pushing back against his lips and forcing her hips down against him, she noticed that his skin was not beginning to change beneath her and nothing at all seemed to be wrong with him; She knew she hadn't lost her touch, but rather there was something going on inside that new body of his. Whatever it was though? She found herself enjoying it, particularly when she felt something stir within his jeans when she let him shift her body with her back against the bench, looking up at him now with a flicker in her green eyes once his lips pulled away from hers. Raising a brow slightly as he began to speak and state that he wanted her to trust him, there was obviously a catch to it and she took note of that when he spoke that she was going to have to accept him having control of her body. Starting tonight. Her brow still raised until he stated that he was going to show her what she would get out of it, demanding that she unzip his jeans just to see what was waiting for her. Her lips curled into a soft smile, "A treat?" She asked, her hands sliding down his body as her leg raised carefully between his legs, her thigh moving across the bulge in his pants, groaning out softly when he gripped her breasts and began to rub them. Feeling the bulge within his pants though, the woman found her hands sliding down to greet the zipper and button of his jeans, getting them both undone and pulling his pants down gently as she felt his heavy cock press against her hand. "Well well Jonny Crane. You've gotten to be mighty big." She moaned out, licking her lips with a bit of excitement as her hands rose up again and tug down the material of his boxers, feeling his cock beg for the release.

When she released his cock from his boxers, it was what he he felt she would enjoy seeing. His cock was very large, the fourteen inches of length with a few veins and arteries slightly raised on the flesh of it. His uncircumcised head was clean, and he continued to knead and squeeze her tits very possessively as he let her get a very good look at its enormous size. After several minutes, he explained with a lustful intensity in his tone. 'Somehow, Pame, all the experiments that I did for you and with you, has cause a very surprising side effect of a belated growth spurt. As you can see, my lovely Rose Red, that has given this Bee a very ample stinger to use on your flower..." He knew that his words sounded corny, but the truth was he really did love her, and even when he was going to give her what she needed, he was going to be sappy at times. Now, though, he wanted to fuck her, and he wanted her to surrender herself to him. He moved to use his hands to pull her a little by her breasts, making her head move closer to his cock with expectation in his look at her.

Well well. She hadn't even been alive for a full day and she had a cock in her hands, a rather large one at that, her lips still in a grinning state as she felt it throb within her hand, judging by his eyes, his intentions for this very point in time were clear in his eyes. Her soft moans falling from her lips with each squeeze and motion he made against her full breasts, she could feel his fingertips dig into her skin lightly, looking up at him as her eyes began to fill with their own lust. He was evidently out to make her hot for him, out to make her want him in the way that he had evidently been longing for her to, and she knew just as well as he did that she wouldn't surrender herself entirely to him, though for this point in time, she might just find herself doing such a thing. Bare stomach beneath him, all he had to do now was pull her pants and panties clean off her body, looking up at him again with half lidded eyes, her arms folded over her head lightly before murmuring, "Then pollenate my flower Jonny Crane."

Crane smiled wickedly, wanting that very thing but first he was going to make it very plain that though he wanted her, it would be on his own terms. He squeezed her lovely tits, twisting a bit to make her sit up as he kept his eyes focused on hers. There was an intense fire in them, a lust not just for having her body but also controlling it. He moved her onto her hands and knees, making her face him if he could. As he was doing so, he explained this first action. "While that love twat of yours may be wet, my Lovely Pame Ivy... my cock is quite dry. I do not want to hurt you more than needed... so you are going to use your mouth to get my cock wet and ready for you." He tightened his hands on her breasts, threatening to start using his new found strength to milk them by force if he had to.

She could tell by the mixture of emotions in his voice that he was not only serious about his lust for her, but about all the emotions in his system in regards to her, looking over his face again when he squeezed her breasts and raised her body. She wasn't sure to be angry with him or to be turned on, though once he settled her between his legs, her face only a few short inches from his cock. She couldn't believe how big he was, knowing he probably wasn't anywhere near this size before her death, she licked her lips softly and let her tongue teasingly move up one of the exposed veins before looking up at him. "You want me to suck your cock hm?" She asked, voice still teasing as they both knew inwardly that it would take a lot in Pamela Isley to be able to completely surrender herself to him, although she couldn't say in her mind that she minded sucking him off. "You want me to put all of this in my mouth?" She murmured, eyes looking up and into his as her tongue gave him another playful lick.

He groaned from the attentions her tongue was giving his cock, and he did not hide he was liking it as he should. He moved one of his hands to her lovely red hair, seeing that she was having streaks of anger as he was pressing his advantage with her. He was in control, even though she had yet to acknowledge it verbally as he saw the look in her eyes. He was not going to destroy her, rather offer her what she had not yet had in life till now. He pressed the head of his cock against her lips, making them grow wide. "You are not human really any more than I am any more, Pame. I have seen you do things with your body that defy logic, and you used your mouth to do things that make this possible. I know you are going to be a bit bratty, so let me tell you I know how much you want me too. I can smell the pheromones you are putting out, and you are already telling your plants to back off. Now suck my cock so that I can give you the pounding fuck of your life among other things!"

"Why do these holy places always have to seem so creepy?" Aerith asked the cool, dank air of the cave. It didn't answer, not that she'd been expecting much. Sighing, she went to rub her arms, wishing that her short red jacket reached to cover their entirety. For that matter, she wished that she was certain that her materia wouldn't have any adverse effects to the cave's natural defenses. casting fire sounded like quite a good idea at this point. The girl hefted her staff, using it to walk over the various rocks and crannies. Her rough brown boots made the going easier at least, and she'd unbuttoned her ankle-length dress just enough to allow freedom of movement. Still, it wasn't as easy as she would have liked. Especially without Cloud here,she thought to herself, frowning at a wall. She'd thought she'd finally been ready for him, back at the Golden Saucer. She'd put on a sexy pair of underwear that she'd blushingly purchased at a store, and then nearly jumped Cloud after her date. Instead of ravishing her, however, he seemed unable to do much of anything. He hadn't even seemed to really care that she'd gone through the effort. They certainly hadn't consummated anything. "I can worry about that later," muttered Aerith. She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind an ear, and stepped through another doorway. There, resting on a pedestal, was what they'd traveled all this way to find: summoning materia. The girl grinned, hurrying over to snatch it and apply it to her arm guard. Once it was in place, she immediately summoned the creature, stepping back to watch the fireworks.

The fireworks never came. The appearance of the beast was heralded by a much subtler display, as the leaves on the floor of the temple suddenly dry and turn red in appearance. The forest went still, and the immediate surrounding is noticably changing, like the season is suddenly turning into autumn, preparing for the coming of the one summon beast that has power over the forests. He is a primordial creature of unlimited power and lust. The autumn king, people call him. First the leaves swirl and form a small vortex, and in the middle of it, a supremely commanding figure with a masculine body so flawlessly shaped, it would seem like he was carved from polished wood stood. Long red mane of wild hair crowned his features, as does two seemingly unbreakable antlers. He smirked at the girl in front of him right now, recognizing her as his summoner. Yet unlike other beasts, this one isnt a mindless drone. He has been known as a lustfull beast, taking and ravaging his female summoners throughout history. In fact, many would be summoners seek him out for this very reason. Afterall, what woman can resist the temptation of riding a veritable god? "Whats your name..Female?" He asked with deep rumbling voice. Eyes shamelessly undressing her in his mind, as large hands, twice the size of Aeris's own began carressing her sides.

The appearance of the creature surprised Aerith. So very appealing, so very handsome and strong. What kind of monster was this? Some kind of beast of the forest? did he perhaps attack his prey with leaves? It would be interesting to see how this creature fought against the monsters that assailed Aerith's group. For now, though, she felt his hands on her sides, and she couldn't help but wonder why the creature would touch her already. It seemed odd that a summon would initiate contact, particularly one so familiar. She hesitantly moved his hands away, taking a step back and drawing herself up, hands clutching her staff. "I am Aerith Gainsborough," she informed him, nodding. "And what is your name, great king of the forest?' Best to flatter and appease him, for now. Earning the trust of such a creature would be much preferred to simply commanding a mindless drone in battle. Besides, there was something innately appealing about the creature, with its well designed form. Almost as if someone had created something as a testament to manhood.

"I am the Autumn King.." Came his whispers, thick with lust and clear desire for her body. He wrapped two powerfull arms around her waist, making sure she cant get away. Of course from his experience, no women has EVER wanted to get away from him. Though it is barely noticable, the air was filling up with powerfull pheromones. The king is indeed the ultimate paragon of manliness, in an animalistic kind of way, a perfect mate for any woman (Or women) one would say, and right now he wants Aeris. He WILL get Aeris. In any way he want, as long as he wants, as hard as he wants. With a swift movement he dragged her over to a nearby altar, laying her down on her back. Here in this spot, the king drove many women insane with the extreme pleasure overload he blessed them with. A growl and a quick bite took the top part of her blouse off. "You're mine!" He roared, his now rock hard member coming into view. It was perfectly huge, thick and full of veins, making Clouds puny member look like a childs toy.