It was amidst discordance that he had been born and it was amidst discordance he had taken it. A machination... as the dark tendrils of the abyss dragged him in further his mind had filled in the holes themselves - cotton, needles and glue. It was within the shades and the immensity of fragile dreams that he could often times hear it - formless to him, but afar from such to others. It was not something in which he mused or indulged, as he was pulled back his mind would snap and there he was, in motion again and within this motion it diminished, lingered briefly save for select times but otherwise: poof.



The east was far from barren, a place, no - a haven almost, for plenty beings, it seemed. Light filtered through gathering clouds, barely caressing the rocks and boulders of various size and shape that were scattered throughout the plains. It was supposedly dusk, and as dusk came way the land seemed to stir, rustle - areas becoming oceans of movements as the nocturnal dance was prepared and as the day gave way. However, was dusk only that - a passage to night, a signal for those who strive under the stars to wake?



The lanky, sick-looking fallen child of the "walking earth" had found himself here in typical aimless wander. Figure dark against the horizon as he stood upwards, his long ago stance of grace and nobility merely weathered somewhat over time as a rogue. It was not that he still held the pride of being of nobility, but it was mere habit - as was his bows and nods, his quiet mannerism of greeting others of any standing. He has questioned these manners, their necessity was naught on most occasions - he felt it as a...memento of sorts. Laurier's eyes - adjusting to the changing light - followed various rivers and formations of interest. He did not linger long, attention was wrought upon those who stood searching, and as he did not mind much for bringing attention at the moment, he had seen enough for now. A blurry outline - an idea, even, a course, was formed sparsely in his mind as Laurier aimed to survive.



Fickle was fate, as its reputation was, and if his calculations were correct - they often were in such situations - the familiar turn and twist of hunger would creep upon him, daring. It was...an old friend, almost and barely, hunger had aggressively and soothingly pulled him under and was one of the few things that could, alongside that of thirst, that did indeed threaten his sanity. He was well aware of how it threatened others integrity and sanity, of how a burning fear it was to many - to thirst and to starve, such a raw want that crippled the mind and shriveled it. However, such desperations were also rather personalized...and they were intriguing. Rather intriguing. Did it truly alter, although - or did it, perhaps only peel back the surface, slowly and manifest raw emotions, masked obscurities and so forth? Intriguing also. The variables and subjectivity were there, creating whole other veins to consider.



The screech of a bird lashed the skies. His ears flickered slightly, and then so he attempted to follow the noise with ear and eye to no avail. He stepped on, his form weaving in between rocks in no hurried pace.

avaricious, its heat fiercely stung the curve of her lustrously, soft mouth. her lips, curving deviously - lush, pouting, made full with the sugaring salve of blood and satiated hunger. lust, as its meretricious, gaudy excesses caressed the carnal enticements of her sweetly-laden and seductive flesh. touching her, embracing her, intoxicating her in a mannerism so seething, immersive; lucrecia, felt both wretchedly hollow and painfully alive. a feeling, a state of catatonic and emotionally rendered stoicism, lucrecia malignantly abhorred - innately disgusted - yet courted in servile submission, and aggressive malice. surrender, it all yet begged for her mercy. for her to unravel the delicate framework of malleable serenity, and relinquish the chains of such excruciating, ruinations, silences. for her to kneel before a configuration of savage oppressors and ache for her. scream for her. drawn by punishments; devoured in a lustful stranglehold of frantic composure, pure hatred and intimate suffering. it were relieving - how fragile, mortality were - how thin and futile its deceptions. void of precision, completely and vehemently chaotic, yet at the same time; painful, uncontrollably and hopelessly ruined. deploring her deepest intimacies and heartache. her internal ambience, seemed to collapse, tearing into wintry fragments of glacial indifference, unearthly calamities. the neverending, endless seconds, months, years, generated into a livid stream of mindless violence, sharp, scratching whistles and buckling screams. distorting her happiness, discoloring her pleasures and twisting the remnants of her heart into a subconscious hell, as it pumped in the fluid rage of a vengeful, and resonating beast. the ringing of isolation, sadism and self-beleaguerment; crashed wildly into the sharp contours of her slimming ears, thinned along the beauty of her golden skull. reminding her of misery, and desperate things to come. such a reality, as bestial, and petrifying as this; made lucrecia sink into her own sea, deeply embittered, nurturing a false hope. a borrowed idealization, that she may one day conceive the valid apprehensions of love, mercy, forgiveness and inevitable happiness.



yet, a demoness as herself; a succubus, a vampiress carmilla - a sinful atrophy, whom viciously preyed on immortal glamour alone, seemed far too immersed in the deterioration of her own mindless, self-destructive spirit. in this delusional and spiritless individualism, in this abolishing imprisonment; lucrecia ached for eternal youth; for immortality, a vicious never-ending cycle of hollow satisfaction and fleeting, vain-filled pleasure. to caress her rebellious heart in slivers of iron, and steel, so that no other being may penetrate the core of her vulnerabilities, her weaknesses, her griefs; she were devoid of love, devoid of compassion. an inability to feel. and in this hollowed affliction, she knew not, how to live nor breathe. she, in a viperous state, teeming, dancing in snakes' aversion; loathsome, as she beautifully were - oft filled with vengeance, her expressions marred in suggestive violence that either further enticed, or decimated her image of allurement and ultimate, womanly desire. her supple face were contoured in remorseless apathy. sharp, enticing features gorgeously sculpted into thin, attractive angles and a celestial radiance deceived as angelic, heavenly. gracefully her lithe, sveltely-curved bodice writhes along, bending deeply into the the unseeming darkness; seething across soiled earth, debris, as the shadows cuffed the delicate bones of her wrists, stroking her slender legs and thighs. buxom hips feathered in a bridal gown embellished of swarthy, vermillion-gold; draping her slim physique in a veil of filthy, and captivating luminosity. transcending in the soft cadence of violent flames, the ascensions of her, the movements of her, the breath and whisper of her - the taste and beauty of her - all evoked a raw, forbidden passion milked in sinful purity. she moved as free as the unchained winds, as wild as fire and equally torrential. as its currents vapidly brushed against her soft, dark curls. hot breeze lapping her cheekbones, tasting her skin crushed of dried roses, graven soil seeped in cream and panting desire. drinking the perfume of her sweet neckline, sequenced in the fleshly curve of a luscious, deeply shadowed breast and feminine collarbone. lucrecia were void of life, internally fruitless of any kindheartedness nor benevolent endeavour; yet, she masked her barren, narcissistic impediments behind a falsified glorification of perfectionment, beauty and intensely, doting grace. her nature, as a woman, were to entice, to ache, to seduce, to deceive. and so, her heated gaze pressed eagerly, silently, unto the man's flesh and hardened body, tearing him intimately; noting, his disheveled handsomeness and eerie formalities, with her usually cold, vampiric expression.



cautiously, she stoically eyes his near sensual, mysterious intrusions; slick rivulets of dark muscles, blending into the withering power of his framed masculinity, tracing the lithe expanse of his smooth, marbled flesh as she cradled his skeleton - his skin and beautiful bones, burning beneath the glare of the sun - in all the bewitching adulation of an affectionate, and doting predator. lucrecia, falls obliviously, for him; this strange acquaintance, a man whose behavior seemed deliciously precarious, unpredictable. drawing the spidery lines of his eloquent, swarthy visage; temporarily forgetting her bitterness, her wrathful malignancy, her hatred, in the harrowed beauty of his feral and primitive face. an ache subsides, desire rising hot and full - flaming her heart in a shrill of pleasurable enticement; her lips curved, glowing in their wanton refinement and lurid purring. shadows pull her waist, gracing her slenderness in their fluid, and feminine dynamism; relinquishing her lush bodice, from the wilderness, as fire were drawn from the breath of a dragon. lucrecia moves in a languorous, svelte and softly, sweeping motions. her hips swayed. entranced him, yet, till their silhouettes danced along the earthly lacery of untamed forests and wild, red skies. she were not socially vexed to greet him as so, her persona discreet, however; a burning curiosity fueled her desire, her longing to possess and hold. when her lips softly curved, her eyes shone behind tender jaws and hard, meticulous fangs; beautiful and sensually wicked - delighted to receive him, a smile delicately manifests in a ghostly aversion along her hot, silky mouth. her voice, a smooth and passionate whisper, reached to embrace him in their soothing warmth. "i thought i were in complete desolation, roaming these woods alone; day and night - beside my own reflection. where do you hail from, monsieur? i yearn to know."

Agelast seers would've mused, dancing amongst the acronycal light, their movements synthetic and possessed by their mysticism. They would move as if pulled by blackened vines throughout the debris, their eyes glazed over, and after such moments would they freeze. Calculating every movement, they would leave as if parting from a loved one they had parted times aplenty. Seers and the like were peculiar beings, appearing enigmatic ? however, all that he had known were masks to an elaborate foundation. Such foundation that had slowly crumbled, unforeseen to its inhabitants until a fateful and lark event caused it all to topple, all that was had become slumbering and diminished. Their collections of stories did not die save for the ones they had hid, and such a thing, he had thought, was no interest to him...however, such an idea kept on being proven otherwise, as it was all entrenched in who he wasn't and who he was.



Retrospection flickered and then ceased, as she, covetously, peeled away from the wilderness beyond the focus of his mind. Gradually unmoving he became when the fresh scent hovered its way into his nostrils, and damp moss eyes followed it in a lazed manner. Indeed, this other wolf seemed to be... a foreign creature, movements hummed, but not much more than that of himself. It was to be considered that he was a lurking remnant, and if he did find any others...his reaction to such an occurrence would be fickle and wavering in whatever predictions could be mustered, he best thought he would avoid it - it was unavoidable.



Ghosts would haunt; connected by invisible strings to marrow, and they would follow after him, manifesting themselves in varying forms and whispering to him against the sun, enticing him to a silky isolation surrounded by the emerged faces of the faceless - ("I thought I were in complete desolation, roaming these woods alone.) there was her voice, a envelop attempting to seal him in with her words. (Day and night - beside my own reflection. Where do you hail from, monsieur? I yearn to know.") He listened, distantly. "Yearn, do you?" A slight tip of head occupied by an absent expression. "I hail from the innards of a once empire, it slumbered amongst its own wake," Vocals hummed, unmoved by his words, "Madelle?" He wondered what such an encounter could offer him, if it indeed lasted.

"Yearning, yes. you are yet a stranger, afterall - and i, in my intimacy - craves to know you in a manner less discreet, and formal," lucrecia's silky gaze emits warmly, burning a woman's soft, mysteriously passionate scrutiny. attractively-lidded, noire lashes unfurled in thick, luxurious whisps - shadowing her temple in a smoky crown of obsidian gold; gently caressing her cheekbones, smoothing against her pale flesh in black rivers of khol, that cut the flawless, oriental beauty of her skin. she slips gracefully, seething muscles unwinding in lithe supremacy, predacious grace accentuating the movements of her sultry gestures. the slenderness of her curvaceous physique drenched in celestial radiance, were traced in a wild silhouette of desire and carnal abandonment; as the sunlight drips amongst the swelling allurement of her curves, she too, shivered; sliding in a graceful, serpentine rhythm that synched with the rolling momentum of her toned, feline hips. lucrecia finds his presence strangely gentle, bewitching in a discreet notion; a soft, calming benediction she were unaccustomed to, knowing the harsh and violent world of men.



it were intriguing, his effeminacy were attractive to her yet, fore he seemed a man who slept with thousands of secrets; his icy, plain visage masking his deepest intentions, his sins carefully deceived, wrapped by the simplicity of his earthly, and poetic countenance. he possessed the demure empathy of a bard; a musician, weaving his hunger behind bars of feigned apathy, glacial complication. her gaze never leaves him, touching the lines of his face as though from mere glancing she desired to unravel his secrets. smouldering in a womanly, and fiery inhibition, her lips curved glinting in silvery fangs; laced in a hidden contagion of venomous wants, venomous needs, as her soul dances towards him in a breath of ravishing fire. so eager to burn and consume, such was the avidity of lucrecia's poisoned and self-destructive demeanor. yet, he, he somehow lulls her bestial ache, temporarily soothing her malevolent affliction; her fiery wrath subsiding in a lucrative and smoky hiss. "and you?" she breathes, hissing delicately; she, in her sensual purring, slips ever closer. feeling their warmth radiate softly between their bodies. her eyes to his eyes, fore she were tall and supple-framed; carved in feminine bravura, the lean silhouette of cunning, and vicious huntress.


she settles, twisting elegantly across the floor, her shadowy reflection sighing in the clandestine eerie; misting in a thick, seething blackness as it drips against the ground, panting beside her. her tail slides against the willowy countours of her slim bodice, slithering to wrap her frame; caressing her talons in avid plumes, feathered in mused disarray. the lithe appetency of her compelling expressions, bewitching and fox-like, further enticed the darkness swelling within her. and her eyes, how they gleamed; an infernal promise. "what are your wants? what do you yearn most in this world?"