ISCARIOT
07-02-2013, 08:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-02-2013, 08:58 PM by Deteste.)
At the close of the battle a storm had brewed. Snow had begun to settle in the battlefield but on the trail home the snow turned into heavy rain. He had trailed Medusa since she had exited her victorious fight to insure that no others would follow her. His trail had been silent and paced so the woman would not find him. Though his pelt was obvious against the snow it was near impossible to spot Deteste in a storm. It was under the condition of a storm that he worked his best. His affect had remained stoic since he had left Jupiter's match and in every flash of lighting there was no emotion that touched his face. Even his heart was slow. Cold as the ice beneath his calloused feet.
Deteste had never met this woman but he nearly clearly knew who she was and the behavior that was likely to greet him once he settled to care for her. He had felt confident that both Jupiter and Medusa would be the victors in this harrowing event. It was not a lack of confidence that drove Deteste to follow the woman in the eve of her victory. It was irrevocable sense of duty that he could not help. Much as his desire burned to watch Jupiter rip the throat from the crazed son of a bitch she was putting down. Even thinking of her now, miles from her, his lips grew taut and an nervous twitch in his tail swung it angrily against the trunk of a near by mangrove. He also knew of Medusa's attachment to the Sol. He need not speak of it with Jupiter but to simply witness their interactions afar. Though his desires for Jupiter were radically different from Medusa's, their fixation on the russet, lavander-eyed woman was very much the same. Deteste didn't want to fuck her, he didn't really want to fuck anyone honesty (perhaps he was getting old), but he had a fervent desire to serve her in any and every way and he would obey her every demand even as she planned to send him miles from herself and from Ludicael into Amenti territory.
The shower broke but the thunder and lightning persisted. A violent strike of the immaculate light revealed the man mere feet from Medusa, his dampened pelt dripping and slicked to the lean muscle in his body. What are your wounds? he spoke, timbre languid, observing her more obvious wounds cooly as the words slipped in the form of white mist from his jowls. He shook, drying himself best he could in this manner, before closing the distance between them and taking a seat next to the new queen and the woman he would be serving beside. A woman who would not be Jupiter. He eyed her, his cerulean glance piercing. I think you know who I am. He stated, giving the woman a pause before folding his neck and tending to the wound she could not reach with a tender but thorough stroke.
"speech"
07-04-2013, 05:03 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-04-2013, 07:03 PM by Deteste.)
Deteste eyed the harlot before him carefully, engraving her face of surprise in his memory before the fleeting expression was gone. Medusa, he figured, was not the kind of person one could become sincerely involved with. He understood that the vulnerability that he had unwittingly forced her into was not something he would likely see again. It was not a power trip he was after. He didn't relish in preserving another's weaknesses. To share an intimate moment with someone whose emotions were so professionally bottled was something that touched him. Though the feeling did not warp his emotionless facade.
He chuckled through his teeth, though the mirth was sincere. He appreciated the wit of her words and the dialect of her speech. Medusa's blood was metallic and warm in his mouth. Gritty in the areas that had stuck stiffly against her pelt. It was not an unfamiliar flavor. It was not an inhibiting texture. She spoke but in his intent grooming and dull mood he could not find the desire to respond. For her vulgar statement Deteste returned a muffled chuckle. It had been long since he and Laxago had, had any such contact. And, frankly, there wasn't a tight body in the world that could ignite his desire to fuck. He moved slowly from Medusa's shoulder to her neck. Thoroughly cleaning the wound, stimulating clotting and grooming the iridescent blood stains on her pelt. It was as if he was on autopilot. Having groomed Laxago so many times in this way. Disregarding the wounds, the woman would appear immaculate when Deteste was finished.
With a gentle but firm grip Deteste took an unscathed section of the woman's scruff in his teeth, pulling her closer and into an angle that allowed access to her leftward wounds and sprain, which he would attend to once he had thoroughly stoppered her bleeding. He could have simply asked the woman to move but he was not used to the surly speech she had spoken to him earlier and he wanted to show her that he could cause her discomfort as well. At the close of her question Deteste lifted his crown, licking his jowls as he thought which had become rather messy with the woman's blood. He eyed Medusa at every moment. I am confident in Jupiter. he spoke, I advised her and I expect a bloody and thorough victory. When she returns all of Ludicael will celebrate. Many will tend to her wounds. In the eve of your victory you earned the hate of Amenti. Had I not come you would be alone. his timbre was not gentle but the honesty was not brash. Jupiter intends to send me to Amenti with you. You're my Madame now and I am a dutiful man.
"speech"
07-12-2013, 09:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-17-2013, 04:41 PM by Deteste.)
After speaking Deteste returned to Medusa's wound but her purring was unexpected. Or perhaps it was the sincerity of the purring was what surprised De who at the sound gave a mintue pause, pink tongue retreating into his mouth, softening his otherwise callous affect. Again the intimacy between them had unsettled him and again he felt the pull to relish the unexpected moment. Deteste wondered what this woman would have in store for him and how their relationship would unfold as they worked together. Her words did little to move him emotionally. He was an unexpected expert at handling the woman's manipulative powers. Whether or not Medusa's intention was to flirt just to have a reaction from a counterpart was enough to satisfy her. But her statements slid off of Deteste like water and even her passionate concern for Jupiter did not move him into an immediate response.
I am not babysitting you, Medusa. I volunteered to follow you to Amenti. He explained, timbre frank. There were many reasons behind Deteste's intention to serve Medusa but babysitting was not one of them. He did not know the woman and in this moment did not know enough about her to judge whether or not she would be a successful leader. But she was here. Victor of Amenti. What Deteste wanted out of Amenti was a challenge. He could be content living the rest of his life peacefully in Ludicael but he would never achieve more. He was Sol. He would patrol the borders. He would accept members. He would hold pack meetings. This was his life stretched out before him and in recent thought he was unsure that this was how he desired to live out the rest of his life. Amenti would be a challenge and everyday he would be reminded of his darker roots and everyday it would make a more honest man of him.
Jupiter will be fine. She will not be alone once we are gone. The sol had an entire pack of capable wolves to protect her. Her members were loyal. It was something that could not simply be explained in words and he hoped that Medusa would understand simply through his reassuring sentence. I know what I am doing. And those wolves will make the new Amenti their home. As for challengers I will take your place in the event that a challenge occurs before you are recovered. He paused for a moment, resuming the grooming, snaking his way towards her sprained forelimb and only speaking again after a long stroke of the tongue that smoothed her pelt from her chest to her left wrist. I kill all challengers. His eyes lifted, seeking her gaze, There will be few left for you if they are so desperate. and offering her a toothsome smile before standing, taking her left limb gingerly in his teeth and pulling it into his chest with a quick, sure stroke meant to set the sprain to it's rightful alignment. He prepared himself for a violent reaction to the treatment but he knew that he pain of the realignment would pass quickly and alleviation would soon take the place of the ache.
"speech"