NationStates Jolt Archive


The Timeless Chronicles [closed]

Prince Abaddon
20-04-2005, 04:17
OOC: This thread is rated R, for violence, and some scenes that some readers may consider disturbing. It will be kept clean enough however. You have been given ample warning.

Also, this is a second attempt at this thread. It was deleted for certain content in the first attempt. That content will be taken out completely. Moderators, if you have a problem with anything here, please let us know via TG or post in here. Don't delete the thread simply without giving us a chance to go back and edit. Thanks.

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Prince Abaddon (http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0TgAAAFQYKc6jyBLyAPSB25i6QXXOdOgJmz4VXYFtP3n58PJElpLBTKqT8PEJ*ezyclg80q5YicO4GYO2uHYSX8Uc6NNtAO7flpP C68tx9FtKD93BTvYvxA/Abaddon.JPG)

Abaddon is my name. Death is my knell. Hell is my home. I am the Destroyer, the minister of death and havoc on earth. I am the one that is destined to destroy the world of mortals, to rip condemned souls into my lair.

Until that time, I sit here, idling my time away in eternity. Some say Eternity has no end. I say they're wrong, for I am the Destroyer, the Bringer of the End of All Things. My throne is built of the skulls of my foes, the Seraph of the Heavens. Many I have slaughtered in the beginning, when Lucifer led the revolt. Yet I knew, he had made the mistake of challenging the superior strengths of the Heavens with lesser strength.

When we fell, and fell hard we did, we were banished forever from the Halls, and the Haven. Hell became home, hell held that warm welcoming blaze to our damned souls. Now, ten millenia later, we still are here. The population of hell has risen steadily, but twicefold for the Heavens. Myself, I cannot do anything but entertain myself with the lesser demons of this plane. I am the undisputed strong right arm of Lucifer himself, but even he fears my strength.

Strength that is denied full use by the Heavens. They realized quickly how I had once commanded the armies of darkness, for it was by my blade in which I poured my cunning, my malice, my evil, my damned soul.

The very blade they stole and hid from view.

Now, I am only a shell, the very strength of legend merely an illusion. Even in my shell-state, I possess more strength than many a demon combined.

Nevertheless, I will bide my time. The heavens will fall one day, and I have millenia to plan carefully...
Lillit
20-04-2005, 06:39
I stand in the shadows watching him brood. He draws me to him like the proverbial moth to a flame. But I am no moth to perish in the fire. I am Lillit, Princess, and Power in my own right, Succubus…My mind's eye plays out the near past as like a mortals technological hologram. My memory is perfect, of course…

Past...

He holds me protectively and smiles, displaying a mouthful of fine fangs in a face more handsome than any mere human movie star “such a cute tail you have...” His deep, cruel voice rumbles, as he strokes down the curve of my hip..

"Mmmmm why thank you!" My eyes sparkle with delight at his attention. I have planned long to catch his attention, and it pleases me greatly that I have. It is no easy feat to catch the eye of one of the greater Powers, even if you are the progeny of the two greatest, Lucifer and Lilith.

“Where did that tail come from? Your mother didn't have one, but you inherited your good looks from her”

“Oh I don't know. I don’t believe that I rival her in any way” Her daughter I may be, but I in no way approach the Queen of Air and Darkness in beauty. That is famed the length and breath of all creation.

“Now, now...humbleness burns me. Show your pride!”

He who is secretly master of my heart, whom I adore far more than is good for me, lightly pulls on my tail and grins. I spin in his embrace and wrap my wings about him "Oh yes? Lord Tease" I am so daring that I scare myself for a moment, then laugh lightly. He is bored this evening, but perhaps, just perhaps..

“I think you've been naughty.” His voice rumbles low making me tingle with delight that he notices me, but I shan’t let him know.

"Oh how so?" I grin impudently up at him.

“Well...you've been teasing those prisoners over there with...” He glances up and down the length of my body, then glances over at the unfortunates chained to the blood soaked walls. “...And it's making them rather...wanton... But go, torture them. It's what you do so well. And I like to see you working...”

I nibble at his earlobe, I can not resist "They're prisoners and that is their problem not mine. And this isn’t?" It is torture to me to be in his arms and apparently no more regarded than any. Abaddon can have any that he wishes, for who would dare deny him. No one.

“Well...if I heard correctly from them...they thought you were a bitch...don't want them to think you're going soft, now would you?” Abaddon rumbles a laugh and his eyes glow with interest.

" But it's you we don't want going soft...or am I assuming too much?" I flutter my eyelashes at him, teasing him more.

Abaddon narrows his lambent eyes, and grins suddenly with a double row of sharp canines “That's true....” In a move faster than mortal eyes could have followed he riped out a prisoner's eyeballs and offers one to me. "Some protein, dear?"

"Oh a delicacy" I plop it whole into my mouth and swallow delicately. “Yummmmm”

He munches the other and deliberately lets juices flow slightly from the corners of his mouth.

I lean over and lick away the juices "Messy one!"

The Prince pulls me close and his voice is tinged with good-natured cruelty. “Alas, you fall for the simplest of ploys!” He traces a bloodline along my cheek with one clawed finger.

Boldly I take the clawed finger and slide it between my full lips, letting it be pierced ever so gently by mine own sharp fangs, then with cruel slowness I draw it forth. He watches as black blood oozes slowly from his finger, seeping into my mouth. I lick the blood making sure it covers my lips and offer them to him to taste.

“You're a lucky one you know...being with the Underworld's most feared Lord of Darkness...” He kisses me gently, biting my lips with sharp fangs.

I gasp then speak boldly "Truly? I should think you would be honored by my presence." My glance is arch, on the surface braggadocio and more teasing, but deeper there is anger. I am selective in whom I give my attentions to, some thing that is highly unusual among the normally wanton succubae. It is my mark, my distinction, one that I have guarded jealously, enduring many a painful reproof when I would not obey the dread Queen's orders. I cannot hide another soft moan of pleasure at his kiss though… "And I thought you 'liked' naughty...nice would just get you all hot and bothered then leave...naughty will stay and make sure you get what you desire."

He laughs darkly. “You speak the truth oh dark seductress of mine! “ And he summons another set of eyeballs to hand, examining them closely before devouring them.

"Should there not be truth between us, oh darkest of masters?" I ask, appearing no little puzzled. 'As if lies were not the common currency of the Hells...I cannot lie to him, or deny him, but he must not know this, not yet'

“truths of lies only exists...”

"Oh there are many sorts of truths and equally many lies " 'better to offer a half truth to divert him' I offer myself to his touch, pressing in close, warm breath tickling an ear, lush lips offered up for his delectations. "Oh there are many sorts of truths and equally many lies "

He lays claim to what I offer, taking me in clawed hands, fires blazing about them. It is such as only a demon is capable of, an art no human can master. When we lie, not exhausted, but languid with gratification, he growls and taking my chin in his claws turns me to look him in the eyes. "Yet, you make me search for what I seek in you..."

"What carries a price, what must be searched for, an effort made to gain - is more valued. And do I not willing give myself to you. Only you know ultimately what you wish of me, but may it is this the answer to this question…” I have felt a difference about him this encounter. A minute change that, though he hid it deep, gave me hope, and so I speak boldly once again. “Am I a fit mate for thee."

"That remains to be seen...for there is yet an obstacle you must overcome to prove worthy of my progeny." His look is dark and filled with something I have never seen in him before, and cannot put into words.

Never has he taken any among us as more than a moment’s pleasure. To hear him speak of something more, lifts my secret hopes. "Test me dark Lord - I am no weakling, no minor power." I can not resist the chance to prove myself to him, to show him that I am his equal. For only between equals might there be that rarest of things in the Abyss.

Love. The eternal binding of each other’s soul.

He grins darkly, and shows he knows me better than I believe he does. “A most difficult task you must complete then. You are ready, I sense. In the great halls of the Seraphim there lies a key. A key that goes to a single chamber locked away. It is out of my reach, for I have been individually banned from its reach. Therefore, you must go. In that chamber, you will find a mystery of numbers. Figure the correct combination and you shall overcome the wards. In the innermost chamber lies something the Heavens wish to keep from my grasp. Bring it to me. Fail, and you will alert the Seraphim.” He lets his rich voice trail off, waiting to see if I shall quail at the enormity of the task he lays out.

"I will bring you their feathers to weave into a cloak..." It is not a boast if you are capable of it, and I have been honing my powers and skills. It has taken centuries but I believe, without excessive ego, that I am capable of what he asks.

“If you succeed, a dark sword shall become seen to you. Take it, and slay the one hundred Seraphim guards. Only then will you prove worthy...” His voice lowers carrying to my ears alone “To be Queen.”

"You shall see my worthiness, I shall return with proof undeniable" I speak fiercely. Queen matters not as much to me as proving myself to him, and perhaps, just the smallest of dreams, winning his heart.

“Good...good... “ He munches on a prisoner's head as he watched me prepare to leave.

"Oh those thin plates of bone are always getting in between the teeth. Thigh bones are much meatier." A quip is my final comment and I lay claim to a final kiss as I depart for the shining halls of the angelics.

I move quietly along the myriad of hidden ways, ways the bird winged ones don't know of. Ways my kind have used for centruies to travel between the Abyss and the Mortal World. Paths generated by humans dreams and beliefs, wormholes in the fabric of reality a scientist might say.

Once I am there, the even less discernable ways to the Realms of the Angelics, become visible to me as I exert my magics. This is a weaving that I have created from my own studies, and shared with none of my kind. Tis a weaving that could start that final war.

The light grows painful, bringing a small whimper before a heavy cloak woven from the darkness between the 'pinpricks of the curtain of night' is summoned and donned. The Demon Lords may not like to admit that a female demoness has powers to match theirs but I am Power in my own right, if seldom I assume the mantle…

Carefully I pick my way around many a magical trap, or with canny gestures, disarm them. I would prefer not to join in combat with even the lesser Angelics set to stand guard, so I am silent, slipping past guards like a half-seen wraith. Then I stop, deep in a well of shadow, carefully taking more of my hoarded energies and with skilled movement and perfectly toned chant draw forth a well wrought seeming, slipping it over me like a second skin. Now I appear as a minor Angelic, summoned for some small duty among the higher powers. It will pass all but the sternest survey, especially as I am cautious to humble myself, seeming meek and mild as fresh milk, though that is far from my nature.

"Oh the things I do to impress one who will probably turn on me as fast as any...but no, he is worthy." I mock grumble to myself as I think of the sensations he rouses in me. Tis better than thinking of the LIGHT, which is near blinding as I draw nearer to the appointed Hall. Grandly luminous, of white stone clasped in argent and gold fretwork. The Light is tangible, pressing against me and my shroud of Seeming I approach with even greater caution, careful to move as if I belong here, with in the 'Sacred Precincts'.
Lillit
20-04-2005, 07:09
At the end of the Hall there stands two Seraphim guards, their armor seeming to enhance their angelic presence, as it gleams coldly in the brilliance of the light. They look upon me with piercing eyes, trying to discern my purpose there. Their four heads, one for each of the cardinal directions, all observe me closely, their three pairs of wings fanning the air quietly.
With the half bow I have observed others grant these pair of nauseatingly pure beings I move past them, silent and sure of myself...’I am nothing worth noticing, I am nothing worth noticing, I belong here, all is calm, all is good' I chant inwardly. The light nearly blinds me, nearly bringing tears to my eyes but I move onward seeking my destiny. Then I am halted as a hand reaches out above and clamps tightly upon my shoulder.

A voice speaks as if from another plane, "State your purpose here, servant." The Seraphim’s voice carries no emotion and his grip is no tighter than necessary.

"I have been summoned to receive orders" I let a small quaver into my voice, not at all unnaturally. The Seraphim are the greatest of HIS servants, standing just below the Generals of the Angelic Armies.

Suspicions seem to arise in the minds of the Seraphim and they move in front of me, blocking my path, their fiery light making me quail inwardly.

"Orders from whom?" Comes the question in a voice now considerably sharper.

"Metranon, I believe, though it was not given to me specifically from whom I would be receiving these orders.” ‘I am but a most minor servant and would not dare presume to question my summons’ my mind adds sharply. ‘It is never for your kind to question’ A failing that cost my kind their rightful place.

The hand moves from my shoulder, and the Seraphim let me pass, after considering my answer for several long moments. With my head bowed self effacingly I move past, silently letting out the breath I had been holding. The Great Hall is beautiful in its own way, but not to my taste at all. Too much white, too much light that has not the warmth of firelight, the richness of bael fire. I seek the chamber my lover spoke of. The Hall is vast, seemingly endless, but eventually something, some inner knowing, brings me before one specific entryway. My eyes rest upon a heavy metal door that stands strikingly in contrast to the rest of the Hall. The walls surrounding the door bespeak of ancient spells, of ancient curses holding doom for those unapproved to pass through the doors. Heavy and dark, seemingly coated liberally with rust, it holds a strange looking lock, a lion's head that demands my purpose there, and my name.

I smile, for I know the answer to that. As minor a servant as I appear to be has no name, even if I were one of the cherubim I might not have a name. "I have been summoned to receive orders. I have not yet earned a name.” I endure the discomfort of the seeming I wear, for it is like unto being smothered, but I endure, I stand tall beneath the guise. A small laugh sounds in the privacy of my thoughts, for I am achieving my goal so easily.

The lion roars in approval, then halts and asks a second question, one that sends chills down my very spine "Your true nature seeks something you may not see. Speak of your heart."

For the barest beat of a heart I falter, then speak a truth "I seek ...love" And pray to the depths of Hell that he who's heart I wish to win never hears this. I am growing concerned at the time this is taking. As I wait for the door to open before me, a most unreal distraction occurs outside, drawing the Seraphim away from the outer doors. Unfortunately, the lion-door remains obdurately closed. I turn to see what is occurring outside the Hall, hoping that the lion head will not see the sudden worry on my face.

Outside a beast, a giant wyrm, tears forth from the bowels of the earth, great flames shooting upward. It rears upward hundreds of feet, its immense size humbling to even the Seraphim. It engages the Seraphim with ferocious rage, striking and dodging the Seraphim's blades as they work together to fell the foul beast of the Abyss.

Some how I know that deep within the depths of Hell he sits, watching from afar as the battle rages. He sent the Wyrm, knowing it will help me in my quest and I feel his smile brush against me, steadying me. "Please I am no great power to join in the battle against that creature, might I enter?" I plead with the lion-headed door for entry. ‘What more truth does it want.’ I despair for the lion is not satisfied and is oblivious to the current events.

The jeweled eyes, cold and yet alive, flash as it asks once more, clarifying its demands "What seek ye heart beyond this threshold?"

"My heart seeks that which will obtain me love"

The door's lion slowly opens its mouth, wider and wider until its mouth is the portal through which I must travel. Such a wierdling door, eerily like entering a lion's dangerous jaws, most unlike what I would expect to find here of all places. Bowing my head I move quickly within, glad that the Seraphim outside are distracted. My heart wings thanks to he whose heart I would win, for the aid from below. I shiver slightly, for he must never learn that I love him, and I know that I will not win his heart, but merely his approval as one strong enough to bear him proper offspring. I will accept that morsel.

The battle continues to rage outside with neither side seeming to win yet. As I travel further into the depths of the seemingly endless chamber of the key, I now encounter a wall laden with an incredible series of numbers, all randomly splattered about. I move along the walls, quickly searching for the key and paying close attention to the numbers, seeking the pattern that has been spoken mentioned. There are many numbers related to the Angelics, this I know, and try to discern if those are represented here. Is there a ladder of virtuous numbers, or a resemblance to the tree of life? Does the chaos of life appear, with its infinite intertwining of the double helix? Carefully I let the seeming lessen a little to free my senses as I attempt to suss out the numbers that I need. As I work carefully the numbers begin to slide into place. My heart lifts a little and I step back a pace to see the walls more clearly.

As I stand there, I suddenly behold the greater picture of things. The multiple numbers are creating another number all together. The number of the beast. I open my mouth to speak the number softly...I know then that this is a trap, that the Angelics would certainly not do this "666" I whisper preparing instantly for the fight of my existence, I call upon every magic, every Power I possess, readying them for what is to come.

The wall suddenly begins to pulse in response to my powers being summoned, before it suddenly explodes and an army of griffins appears before me, Seraphim in beast form, clawed and fanged to rend. The battle rages outside, the seraphim are winning over the great beast. It is indeed a trap, for which there is only one way to diffuse it and suddenly once again, not knowing how I know, I know the answer. It is to declare the truth in which all Seraphim and holy beings believe.

"Love conquers all" I don't know where those words come from as I state them firmly. Not that I believe them either, but it is a myth that the demonic do not know love. It is just far different, far stronger, than the weak brew experienced by humans, and very, very rare. Humans prefer to believe that we, their nightmares, do not know love at all. It forgives them their trespasses with our kind, frees them from guilt at being tempted by sins of the flesh.

The griffins lunge forth as one, a tidal wave of ferocious jaws and claws reaching to shred my demonic essence from the ethereal plane and destroy my presence forever. I leap upwards, my wings snapping open as I go airborne. "Ah well I tried" I whisper to myself as I stretch forth my hand to summon my own sword. I know now which sword it is that my lover desired. His own sword, and in His hands it would have assured His supremacy uncontested. My mother would have been most wroth with me but that would have mattered little. Lilith rules her own domain, guards it jealously, and I would have mine at Abaddon’s side.
The griffins give chase, their wings beating a sound of thundering wind that shakes the ethereal planes like never seen before.

For a brief moment, a small opening past them is revealed, and
I fold my wings, shrinking to scarce the size of a dove, I let myself fall tumbling wildly, through the momentary opening. Jaws are snapping at all about me, great clawed feet slashing the air around my lithe form as I slip through.
One graze and a long narrow rent appears in one carefully tended wing, but while I cry out with pain, the other wing unfurls enough to return the favor, opening a razor thin tear in the nearest perfect hide.

At last I break through the opening, which snaps closed as the griffins wheel about, nearly ensnaring my tail trailing behind me. I shield myself with my wings as I break through a wall, leaving the griffins on the other side, as they are banned from the interior of this particular chamber, one only the key holder can enter. And the key is in my hand. I did not remember grasping it, but it gleams golden in my palm, covered in precious jewels. I float ground ward folding my wings about me. I inspect the room carefully, but see and sense nothing inimical. In the center lies a table of sorts, with an encased shape atop it. A shape that would fit a sword perfectly. I move cautiously toward it, certain that the prize I seek lies within. I search thoroughly for wards, and hidden sigils. There are none on the table, floor or walls that can be discerned.

A rather simple looking lock holds the case closed. I laugh silently nothing here is simple. I examine it closely, trying to discern if the lock is truly just a lock, or a symbol of something more complex. There, it glows just the faintest bit in my deeper sight. Standing to the side, with precisely formed logos, the basis for all word, all concepts, I trigger the protections, so that they flare harmlessly against empty space. Then a deep quiet falls so that the sound of the final 'click' echoes like the reverberations of a mountain tumbling down, and the faintest line of light appears from between the edges of the casques lid. It is a light that sharply contrasts with that of the surrounding chamber and halls, for it is dark in nature, evil...

"Oh so the high would have us believe. Because we do not bow down at the feet of 'God', because we would reign in Hell rather than serve in Heaven, we are evil....wimps, incapable of thinking for themselves" I lift the lid aside, to gaze reverently at Abaddon’s sword.

It is a exquisitely designed sword, and it boasts great power. The blood of innocents and angelics can be seen still tainting the dark blade of ebon steel. As my hand takes hold of the handle, I feel an incredible surge of hatred...and power flow through me.. I rise up on now suddenly immense wings, feeling the realm of impossibility becoming more possible, at my command...my stature increases, I begin to fill the room with my growing body, my strength gathering beyond what I have ever experienced...

I laugh with wild delight. With this in my hand, slaying a hundred Seraphim is nothing. Soon I will be done here, and away home with my prize and proof of my worthiness.

As if on cue, the Seraphim arrive in droves, tearing away the walls of the room, brandishing their holy weapons. They look up at my immense size, their eyes locking upon the blade in my hands. They know what they must do...or there would be dire circumstances for the whole of the paranormal, and mortal worlds...

I turn, expending power ruthlessly, ripping a gate between the planes, and flee.
Lillit
20-04-2005, 07:49
He looks so grim, so bitter, sitting there awaiting my return...or does he think of me, Lillit, at all?

The slave souls quail before my imperious gesture, and with extreme caution carry the large tray of delicacies, his favorite, freshly plucked eyeballs, into the hall where he sits silent. The tray is hammered gold and gleams brightly in the fire lit gloom. Bowing and scraping they back away until they believe they are out of range of his reach. Leaving him to wonder who gifts him with this offering.

I can see him glance about the hall's darkness, briefly illuminated by plumes of flame. With a deliberate motion, he picks up the nearest eyeball and inspect its, while keeping a portion of his attentions on the shadows. It can be seen that the eyeball had belonged to a feline, for it boasts the telltale vertical iris. It is crushed between his teeth as he maintains his silence.

"It's there, beneath the eyeballs that you favor so" My voice's voice is a whisper as I step out of the darkness "Oh it's not covered in the blood of a hundred slain Seraphim but those you should be able to harvest for yourself"

My hair tumbles past my feet, clothing me in greater beauty than any cloth or jewels. In my hand is another offering, one I have not yet decided if I will make. It is perhaps the most dangerous offering possible for me to make.
Prince Abaddon
20-04-2005, 07:59
I turn my everlasting cold eyes unto the seductive female that steps forth from the shadows. Her auburn hair flows about her body as if it were but a teasing curtain. Around her neck sits a metallic necklace-choker that designates her as a Succubus. I smile at her return, glad to see her in one piece.

"I see you have survived the halls. Excellent."

I sweep a number of the eyeballs aside to lay my eyes upon that which I had not seen for millennia. I smile darkly; my eyes alight with a dangerous aura. With all the drama of a new chapter about to unfold, I reach forth and take hold of the familiar weapon, the hilt enshrouded in dark leather, the blade almost as black as the hilt. It shone, however, with a faint red hue that was almost lost in the onyx. I smile greatly, for I know this sword is the true one. My heart rejoices for then, I know. The time is near in the world of the immortals.

I turn my attention to the hand of Lillit that is partially obscured from view. I can only become intrigued to know what she holds in the confines of her fingers.

"What is that?" I ask, my voice reflecting more confidence than ever seen.
Lillit
20-04-2005, 08:18
His eyes came alive, but not at the sight of me, only at the sight of the sword. Abaddon's smile is no warmer for me than any of the others whose delights he has tasted. And he has tasted many. He is a most experienced lover, never has any left his arms unsatisfied. My thoughts are beyond bitter, and I dare not look him in the eyes.

I want more than just his attentions. I want that rarest of things between those of the Abyss. My thoughts falter as he speaks.

"What is that?"

He asks me, his keen eyes observing that I have something to hide. My heart falters, but fiercely I hide my sorrow, never shall he know what my heart wishes most, 'NEVER!' I think as my hand comes ever so slowly from beneath my gleaming mane of hair. Reluctantly, I open my palm to display what I held in it, my head held high, pride in every liniment

The silver filigree I wear about my throat is nothing compared to the black iron collar resting upon my hands. Slowly I sink to my knees at his feet. His to command.
Tarlachia
20-04-2005, 08:42
I bring the sword about and level it below Lillit's chin, lifting her face higher than before. I can see the determination, the arrogant pride of the Succubus as strongly as one could see in her mother. Yet, Lillit held one thing over her mother.

She was an unique beauty, so magnified by the devilish mane of uncut hair that flowed the length of her backside, and almost to the floor. I take another look at the collar in her hand and then back at her face. I know what she seeks, but I am not one to give a reward as easily as giving candy on Halloween. No, I shall make her desire with her entire damned soul to please me, to pine for my attention.

"Why should I approve this request, succubus? You have rewarded yourself with higher distinction for your service, yet you failed to complete the mission as directed. So I ask once more, why should I accept? What do you have to bring that I cannot easily get from other succubae or hell spawn?"

I know my approach is not the expected response, but I must be selective of those I take under my fold. I am, after all, one of the strongest beings of the underworld...

She moves. She is far faster than I knew ...and the sword is no longer at her throat, for she is some feet away. She do not let herself falter, as she meets my eyes with no flinching, no begging.

"Could not easily get...that sword you hold so gladly. Who other than I would have brought you the sword? No one. All others would have kept it to enhance their own powers or bartered it to another of the Lord for a share of their power. I ask for no power from you, no reward"

'No just your love' her heart cries out bitterly behind a stern face, though she find herself wanting to plead for a way to win me over. Her pride, her will, keeps her from that humiliation.

I study her eyes, such beautiful eyes they are. It is rare to find absolute truth in the eyes of hell spawn like her, and yet it is there. I nod slowly, holding my hand out until she accepts it. I pull her close, just as the fire in her eyes flares slightly brighter. My hands lower themselves, taking hold of her waist, pulling her close. Willingly she follows, watching me carefully.

"That is true. But there something else you desire, for you are hell spawn, and like all hell spawn, you harbor desires. Something I suspect only I can give..."

I hear her voice, as soft as it is, reply, "Yes...you."

I can see her heart leaping with delight as I hold my hand to her, my air of command and my requirement of absolute obedience never faltering. Part of her is utterly terrified, but the greater part stands proud as she find myself answering my question.

'You, ever and only you' her heart adds silently.

Clearly reveling in my touch as I wrap my glorious wings about us she looks up at me. She knows that her eyes are lambent wells of desire yet she doesn't care at how much of herself that reveals to me. However I would have her, she is mine. Princess and Power in her own right; here she has found the one worthy of what she offers.

I can feel the aesthetic heat between us grow as much as the physical fire that has begun already. Small flames lick upwards from our feet, curling with unbridled energy around our bodies. Yet, the flames do no burn, for they are our essences. Two flames of differing colors merging together. My own is black in color, and Lillit’s own is crimson, as red as the hair that tumbles freely about her.

I lift her in my arms and spread my black wings. It would appear to those watching, the rising furnace of two separate flames combining slowly has suddenly sprouted wings, and now levitates above the ground. A private place for us.

__________________

Later…

I reach a slightly trembling hand upward to hold her cheek with loving care; as much as possible for demonic entities; and give her another passionate kiss upon the lips. When I spoke, it was with gentle tone, all but a whisper. "The rarest fires of hell is the fire of the heart. It cannot be falsified, it cannot be duplicated. See now the passion I have for you. I invite you to share this fire, to bring your own fire into this relationship. You are my love..."

My hand pulls away slightly and opens palm-up. Instantly a small black flame spins in place. I watch as she pulls her hand close and does the same, but with a crimson flame. The two flames seem to dance about as they spin about and finally combine together as one. The resulting flame is larger, showing streaks of both flames spiraling within. I smile and look into her eyes once more. With a snap of my finger, the flame splits into two, but still retains both flames of our souls. A vessel of sorts spawns around each flame, containing it for posterity.

"This shall be evidence of this love. Forever it shall burn, or unless one of us dies." I give another grin, "Not that I plan to..." After all, I had my sword once again...

Now, I held two things that would strengthen my resolve, my strength of heart and body.

Lilit was one. The sword was the other. Together, I would be invincible. I would become more ferocious, for now I had a cause to live. No longer did I live solely for the destruction of the Seraphim and the Heavens.

This Destroyer wished to preserve one thing, and one thing only...
Lillit
20-04-2005, 08:53
My breath seizes in my throat as he declares his love for me...and as he said that passion cannot be falsified, demonic essences will not rise and combine without love. Slowly I move my hand palm up next to his and watch in silent awe. His eyes catch and hold mine as I whisper the word that speaks of everything and all things that he is to me

"Aman" Beloved, and so much more, the logos that is the core concept of unity such as we have. A unity in which neither sacrifices anything, and gains everything. No power lost, but gained, no individuality surrendered, but enhanced by the other's support, presence and strength.

I rejoice in all that he is, and hold him gently as he slips into sleep, a rest that he may never have known. A rest where he has no worries, no concerns. His face relaxes as does his form and I watch him, guard him. I rest my cheek on his broad, strongly muscled chest and know only peace and a quiet joy as I listen to the strong thunder beat of his heart

I will protect him with mine own life, guarding his back in all things. I will not keep him safe from danger - that is not what he is, but I will stand by him, facing it with him, offering all support, all power. I know that he will prevail in what ever he chooses, for he is intelligent and wise as well as powerful. There is none mightier than he.
Tarlachia
20-04-2005, 09:09
Tag!
Prince Abaddon
20-04-2005, 09:19
As I rest with a peace unfelt in thousands of years, I experience a dream that captures my every thought. Dreams are rarely experienced by demonkind, for they are more of a characteristic of the mortals that populate the mortal realm. Despite the rarity of such an experience, my physical body shows no change in appearance before the watchful, guarding eyes of my lover. My breathing remains as steady as ever, the flames that lick around us changing little. Yet, before my interior conscience, I find my astral essence torn, forced into another realm where I stand chained, the light of the heavens glaring down upon me.

I am on earth, in a forsaken land of rock and soil. Nothing grows around me, and I realize that I am as close to the heavens I can get without carrying out invasion.

I am in the realm of Purgatory, the realm of the restless, the waiting souls of those recently departed of the mortal world, but yet to cleanse themselves of their sins and transgressions.

Abaddon... calls the voice of one who appears in the distance. A blink of an eye later, the figure is suddenly before me, only feet away. You know the prophecy of the Arakmal, do you not?

I look up, glaring with a deep-seated hatred. Oh yes. After all, I am that prophecy! I reply coldly.

No. You are wrong. You only know half of the prophecy. Now, you must know the second half. the figure says, turning his head slightly at me. His face is stern, serious. Recite what you know.

I glared, before finally complying. The words flowed freely from my tongue, a language I have not spoken for eons. Yet, a language I have not forgotten at all. It was, after all, the language of the Seraphim.

In a time of the Tauri constellation alignment, the gates of the realm of fire shall open to the command of the desires of heart. One shall step forth, strong in heart and in constitution, strong in all emotions negative.

The chains suddenly yank downward, binding me tightly against the ground. My limbs are bound, with no freedom to break free. I feel the hatred of the Seraph before me, the one known as Gabriel, the voice of God. I wish to see his blood spilled by my blade, a blade I woefully cannot summon. The chains and spells in place against my condemned soul prevent such actions. Gabriel holds up a hand to silence me. There is more.

I cease my straining muscles to free myself and look up with dark, brooding eyes. Gabriel recites new words of the prophecy that I have not heard.

Dark and bloody the heart shall be, powerful, and capable to challenge the Heavenly hosts. Nothing shall shake the foundations upon which the heart exists, for love conquers all.

He opened his eyes to me, suddenly flowing forth an immensely holy light that blasts my dark soul. I grimace, but do not give them the satisfaction of the pain's response. For what was one before me, now bespoke of another presence, one more powerful than I or any other.

Him.

Your union with the demoness Lilit is forbidden. You are sentenced to punishment for such activity. Therefore, I will destroy her forever, for she is contrary to my Plan.

With an enraged outburst I cry out to Him, NO! Do not do this! Pass another sentence, I care not, but do not kill her! My voice lowers, Please...

He is silent for several moments, considering my demands. I do not know why He feels it necessary to ponder these thoughts, for He is quick to think.

Then I place unto you and her, a judgement I shall see fit. You will know what it is soon enough.

The light suddenly fades, the chains disappearing rapidly. My astral projection of my soul retreats quickly to the safety of my body. As I lay there, Lilit having finally gone to sleep, still curled up against my body, her tail gently wrapped around one of my legs. Her breathing is soft, steady as well. I suddenly sit up, startling her awake. She pulls away, then retuns once I've stopped moving abruptly.

I can only sit there, rage building up and condensing within my face. My fires surge about me, my terrifying rage illuminating the walls of the demonic room of hell with such ambience. I stand from the ember-bed and walk over to where my sword lies in my throne in the other room, in sight of the bedroom of hell.

As my hand grasps the blade, I suddenly lift it upward, and roar in anger. The words that spew forth from my mouth are ancient, words of the Seraphim language, cursing the very One who was to pass Judgement.
Lillit
20-04-2005, 09:47
The Abyss quakes, as I knuckle my eyes and try to understand what has just occurred. One moment I was blissfully asleep in my beloved's arms, then I was thrust away like a foul piece of trash.

Before I could speak, the rage building up within him, obvious on his face, silenced me with added confusion. Then Abaddon is striding into his throne room, lifting his sword and roaring out curses in a language I know only the basics of.

The Abyss falls preternaturally silent. Every demon that could escape was preparing to, edging slowly from sight, each hoping that it is another that catches Abaddon's attention. One creeps up to me, whispering frantically that I must be away. That it is not safe to be present when he is in such a rage

I refuse angrily. Let the others be cowards. I will not leave him. Something has happened, I know not what, but I will not abandon him.

Purposefully I too stand and stride to face him, my concern evident. I am not afraid. If he wishes to strike out at me I will accept it.

"Abaddon, what has occurred, why are you wroth?"

He is blinded by a rage that has taken thought from him, and filled his body with immense strength, such dangerous potential.

I approach with out the caution I should have shown. My hips roll in their most feminine fashional, swaying ever so seductively as only a succubus could command so easily.

Yet Abbadon notices not and suddenly reachs out with a blurr of motion. My throat is in his powerful grip, nails digging deep into my flesh, causing me to fall silent. I raise both hands to struggle against his grip, which is deadly, threatening to cease my breathing. I cannot speak for he holds me with such hatred, such rage.

I lets out a small cry. A cry barely heard, but nonetheless it sliced through his rage like a knife through butter. Abaddon blinks several times, and turn to face me.

He loses me, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret, pulling me close quickly. His hands caresses my head, holding me gently as he whispers, dropping to my knees.

"I cannot let Him do it! I love you Lillit..."

I looks up him, my eyes locking with his, "Abaddon! Tell me what is wrong!"

He looks down at me, and something unheard of occurs. His eyes grow misty, despite the heat of the hellfire about us. And remarkably, the tear slides down to fall free then catch on my lower lip. His voice quivers slightly as slowly he tells me the dream, the dream that condemns us to a hell I can hardly grasp in its reality. A hell that I have wish to go to.

His tear as it graces my lip is the only thing that holds the horror at bay as I listen to his hard voiced recital of the dream. My eyes are wide, and I admit, frightened. Who would not be upon learning that 'HE' was cursing you because of your love? But the fright was blasted away by anger. He would destroy me, curse us because we dared to love one another? I would find a way to make 'HIM' pay for that cruelty. 'HIS' Plan indeed! Damn 'HIM'

Then the Abyss was sundered open, a ear searing ripped silk scream as a void opens and swallows us both up. I lose sight of Abaddon in the torrent of air and flame and smoke. I fell with a cry to land on hard gleaming stone. Before I could gather my thoughts, adamantine chains sprang about me, clasping tightly at wrist, ankle and neck.

They retracted, dragging me against an unseen, but felt wall. I could not move, could not fight them even when my love, Abaddon was brought into view, secured by similar chains.

Seraphim stalked forth, gleaming with the bilious light of Heaven, sickening in their misogynistic sanctity, their hypocritical 'holiness', their 'merciful' cruelty. Long whips of metal, glass and leather were in their hands and they applied them fiercely to Abaddon’s chest and back. Flaying the skin from his magnificent form in long bloody furrows.

I screamed furiously, commanding them to cease, raging with the foulest of curses... then weeping uncontrollably, at last reduced to begging them to lash me in his place. They paid me no heed, not a glance, not a smile, nor frown, nor any response at all.

I was a coward then, trying to look away, to spare myself the sight of his death, for I was sure they meant to slay him. But they did not, and I was held, unable to look away, tears pouring forth from hate filled eyes. I had never hated the Angelics before, but now they were my bitterest enemies

Once his chest, abdomen, hips and thighs were a bloody ruin, they spun him about and with great wrenching pulls, all four of them working on first one wing then the other, sundered his magnificent ebon wings from his shoulders

I think I passed out then for I remember nothing more than a vast pain, pain such as I had never known
Prince Abaddon
20-04-2005, 10:15
Breathing heavily with raspy breath, I raise my bloodied and beaten face up to watch silently as the Seraphim begin their tasks upon Lilit. Blinking the blood free of my eyes, I watch in silent mortification as they lash her viciously with the whips, the cracks of metal against flesh sickening to the ears. I moan weakly in response, a pitiful cry of anger, pleading. Normally, this was minimal to the things I did to the those condemned to my rule in Hell. However, to watch them destroy all I had come to love about Lilit.

Her breasts, now clearly exposed are shredded until her muscles are lashed with deep gashes, only to be soon joined by her abdomen, legs, arms, and face, all sporting similar wounds. She returns to consciousness slightly, managing to utter a cry of dispair and pain. This causes me to strain greatly, my desire to save her from the cruelty of the "good". The chains groan suddenly as I summon strength from some unknown source inside. Blood freely flows, pooling in an ever growing pool of crimson waters at my feet. A ferocious cry escapes my bloodied larnyx, my torn muscles straining with bulging tension. The chains suddenly snap, much to the Seraphim's surprise.

The demonic angel had snapped chains of adematine, a most reknown metal of strength. I raise my bloodied face to glare with a renewed anger and lunge for the nearest Seraphim. My victory is shortlived however, as all four suddenly slam my body back against the wall and hold me there until multiple more chains wrap themselves quickly across my torso, holding me tightly, even painfully. My little show of strength had been a small victory, but alas, I was outnumbered, and weak.

They step back, still holding faces of stone as they return to Lilit's tortured body. She too is turned roughly, and bound tightly once again. Her leathery wings are suddenly torn from her backside, suddenly causing Lilit to scream in agony, only to pass out once again, the shock settling in.

I want to cry, but I cannot, for I am devoid of tears. Instead, I retain my hatred, using it to steel myself and maintain my constitution against these Seraphim. Each one's face, I commited to memory.

I would see to it, sooner or later, that their deaths were carried out as painfully as they had done to us. My heart burns for Lilit, wishing to remove her from this place, the Chamber of Justice. I look at each of them, yet they avoid my glaring, pained look. Instead, they depart, leaving us to the silence of the Chamber...
Lillit
20-04-2005, 10:22
I'm so much weaker than he, my beloved. He managed to remain conscious through out his torture. I was not so strong, to my additional humiliation I lost consciousness from the pain several times. My cries of pain are additional shame. Their lashing does not cease until they turn me to tear my wings from me, as they had Abaddon. Once that is complete, I am brought back to consciousnes.

The stone faced Seraphim leve but the Chamber is not empty for long. In strides a lesser Angelic with a pair of golden shears, and in seconds my nearly floor length hair lies on the ground. Now tears truly spring forth. My hair was the one part of me I knew with certaintude was glorious. Shame fills me and it takes every bit of strength I have within me to look at Abaddon, to meet his eyes with remorse.
Prince Abaddon
20-04-2005, 10:36
I had thought that seeing them whip and beat Lilit was all they could do to tear my heart apart. As soon as the angel brought out the golden shears and took away the one thing Lilit cared for, besides myself obviously; I felt my heart literally cry out in pain as I saw Lilit's tears. She looked up at me pitifully, her beautiful mane of hair now cut drastically to only a few inches off her head.

It made her appear defeated, her courage to survive gone. Myself on the other hand, was a different story. The angel looks at me with a slightly smug look, which served to only infuriate me to no end. Surprised by my rage, the angel beat a quick retreat out of the chamber, but not before I managed to blast his retreating form with hellfire that spewed forth from my mouth.

My eyes have become murderous now, my muscles straining against the chains that bound me relentlessly against the wall. Never before have I been so enraged, so dangerous. Lilit looks up at me once more, having felt the heat of the hellfire shot toward the angel. She gives me a look of shame, as if she had done something wrong. To HIM, she had. To me, however, she was innocent.

I snapped my eyes toward a single figure that has walked into the chamber, and keeps his distance. It was none other than the favored right hand of HIM. My mouth forms the name with utter contempt laced with rage.

"Michael."

He turns to me and glares at me, his armor glinting the light of his holy form into my eyes. I ignore it, snarling at him with such violence.

"I will kill you and all responsible!" I swear to him, my rage now fully expressive in my face, if it could be any more than it already was.

Michael laughed, a laugh that was smug with HIS blessing behind him. At last, he looks over to Lilit, taking note of the defeated look in her eyes. He strode closer to me and drew his hand up. Only then do I see the object in his hand, circular and glowing slightly. He spoke, "Your punishment shall be life as mortal, and the same for her. You are hereby sentenced to live amongst man and beast, and be scorned for all eternity!"

The object suddenly blasts me in the face with an unbearable pain, my tremendous roar fading away as my demonic body suddenly changes color, shape, and form. What was once there, was now replaced by a human body, vaguely resembling my demonic-angelic body. I have passed out during this process.

Michael walks over to Lilit and completes her transformation. She too is cast into unconsciousness. Michael looks at both of us briefly before calling to two seraphim. When they have arrived, they are instructed to deposit our bodies upon the earth, far from the hidden location of the Gates of Hell.
Prince Abaddon
22-04-2005, 17:25
The pain is unbearable, as much of what makes up Lillit is stripped from her. Mercifully, or perhaps not, she loses consciousness, coherency returning only as cold, pain, and damp bite into her naked form. She finds herself on her belly in deep viscous mud from the chest down. Somehow, with trembling arms, gasping with pain at each movement she pulls myself from the mire.

Now that she can take a moment to observe my surroundings, she looks first for me, concern for my wellbeing paramount. The air is thick with mist, tendrils of fog swirling restlessly about, but it does not prevent her from seeing my still form some two dozen feet away.

We both still bear the majority of the wounds the Seraphim inflicted upon us. She struggles to call forth her ability to heal herself, something she should be able to accomplish without conscious thought, but only the barest fraction of power answers her summons. The attempt dizzies her, but she put despair aside as she crawls to my side, reaching out with a trembling hand to see if I was still alive. The terrible wounds on my shoulders, where my magnificant wings had been, still ooze blood freely, some small assurance that my life had not been extinguished.

It is almost pitiful to gaze upon my fallen body as I lay there, half buried in mud, my flesh torn open, the blood no longer black, but red. It was but one of the indications of the curse the Seraphim had placed upon us. Most paramount was the lack of my wings, now replaced by deep fissures running alongside of my shoulderblades, with glimpses of the bone deep below the torn and beaten flesh. As Lillit struggled against her own weakness to turn my body over, to pull my face out of the mud, I let out a cry that pierces the air. The sounds of many animals scurrrying away can be heard, their little feet tearing up the earth behind them. The repetitive sounds of winged creatures is heard, but they are nowhere near as commanding as that of the angelics.

The wounds are furious to my body, relentless to remain, despite my efforts to heal subconsciously. The mud becomes an ironic salve to the burning flesh, mixing into my wounds. I care not, for my mind slowly begins to focus. Lillit nows looks into my face, her features locked in worry about my condition. She speaks, but her voice sounds far away, as if I am behind a transparent wall. Slowly but surely, her voice grows louder as the effects of the mysterious object in Michael's hand begin to wear off. I suspect I may have recieved a heavier dosage of the object, for I seem to be recovering a lot slower than Lillit.

Few realize that there are certain things that will cause unexpected reactions. The brief dwelling of thought upon the one that had cursed us suddenly snapped my senses back into place, and I sit up, my eyes becoming enraged once more as I curse the very ones who have cast us to this forsaken world of mortals.

I rise to my feet slowly, my body hunched over in its apparent fatigue and pain, the wounds still declaring to all my transgressions. Lillit has become my support, her body seemingly more healed than mine. No matter the case, I am grateful for her there, for I would have preferred to lie in the mud until my body had healed. Slowly we walk free of the muddy clearing in the middle of the woods and make our way through the grasping gnarly branches of trees. It is almost as if we have become twins of the two mortals cursed by Him long ago.

"What were their names?" I asked quietly, my thoughts clearly being unstable, unfocused. "Adam...and Eve. Tricked by your mother..." I offered a weak smile to Lillit, who continued to hold me up. Neither of us were aware we were nude, for immortals took no shame in their form, as mortals did.
Lillit
13-05-2005, 21:56
"Hush beloved" I murmured as I searched for clean gound, fresh grass to lay him upon. I was in no mood to think upon similarities between us and those wretched humans. We were most certainly not as they.

I was a thoroughly modern young demoness, and I knew what ills humans were heir to. I kept up with what the humans discovered as the millinia went by - one had to know ones target victims or not accomplish ones goals. The mud that was so cooling to his wounds would leave him open to severe infections.

I dared not spare a moment for myself. I already knew that the deep gashes across my body would heal with thick raised scars, and my face would fare little better. Mourning for my lost looks would come later, for veils would be able to keep my hideousness from others sight, though Abaddon's lost interest would hurt forever. I would not deny him the cream of the human crop that would eagerly seek his arms. My loves perfect features and and impressive physique would draw them like moths to a flame.

Putting my sadness aside I continued helping him along, encourageing him with soft murmurs. Then I spied a small clearing, fresh with thick grass, and a stream with clear water. The water soothed him, I could tell as soon as we eased pain wracked bodies into it's cold, free running depths. Sand formed the bottom, not mud and I sought handfulls of leafy cress and mixed the herb with the clean sand. The mixture scrubbed the grime from us, even his deepest wounds, despite his protests. Once the dead skin and debris were gone from the wounds and fresh blood ran clear I left him float for as long as he wished, while I tended to my own wounds. They were as bad as I feared, if not worse.

Hours must have passed, but that mattered not until hunger drove us from the soothing embrace of the water. I helped him out, laying him in the thickest part of the turf, where a broad swath of clover made an even softer bed. Now I worried about keeping him from being chilled, and feeding us both. Our kind does not know physical hunger, and it too some time for me to understand the pangs and cramps I was feeling. I had not known that hunger could bring tears to my eyes.
Prince Abaddon
14-05-2005, 09:10
Hunger. What horrible feeling. I hated everything about it, the way my stomach roared its displeasure at me, the reliance on pitiful food, the inevitable weakness of this human form. Hunger drove man like no other. To it, man was slave, forever doomed to its demanding and taxing manacles of the body.

However, as powerful as the hunger was getting, I couldn't help but hate the coldness that saturated the entire cursed lands of the Earth this early morning. I look on as Lillit attempts to make the best of this situation, even as weak as she is. She may deny that weakness in her body right now, but I could still see it in her movements, in her tired muscles, in her face and most especially in her eyes.

She was hungry too. Hunger was something impossible to hide behind the veils of the eyes, no matter how defiant one was to its impervious nature. I look around the area, trying to find something for the both of us. At last, I see a squirrel upon a tree branch, staring down at us directly, as if it were trying to figure us out. It suddenly realized I was staring at it, and it couldn't help but slowly but surely make its way down the tree trunk and slink over closer to us. I look up to Lillit.

"Eat..." I command quietly as she tends to a wound. The squirrel slinks closer to her, bewildered by the power gripping its mind. As the squirrel sits within reach of her, I look about once more, in search of more food. I was hungry too, and I would have to feed eventually myself, but I cared about Lillit's wellbeing first and foremost.

It is a bit strange to see two demonic entities have such capacity as caring, and good willed nature in them, but it is entirely possible. Love knows no enemies, it does not discriminate, it does not say whom shall be under its influence, and who would not.

Love was magical. And like magic, the actual movements were not seen by those that were afflicted.
Lillit
14-05-2005, 09:20
With a quick lunge the squirrel is in my hands and the neck broken. The hunger defeats my ability to think clearly and I wrestle with the loose skin for a moment before realizing that I should obtain a sharp edged stone from the stream. That makes the cleaning much easier, and I look at Abaddon wryly.

"This used to be much easier, and I'm very loathe to point out just how small it's eyes are"

I try the tiniest tease to see if he will smile, then I freeze as the sound of ...hoofbeats, several and moving with a purposefulness that say they are not some wild beast wandering the countryside. Coming closer

The squirrel drops forgotten from my hands, as I move to Abaddon's side. If humans come upon us, weak as we are there shall certainly be trouble. I reach deep within me, searching for some advantage. My previous wealth of powers have been ripped from me, but my need brings some small portion of power, healing power into my grasp. Quickly I reach out to Abaddon. He needs that more than I, for it will be he that the humans will see as a danger, not I

It leaves me dizzy, but in the aftermath his wounds are healed, and his energies some what restored. I sink to my knees, reaching for the squirrel's corpse.
Prince Abaddon
17-05-2005, 09:33
My dark eyes lock with Lillit's own and silently I transmit my appreciation for her help in dealing with my wounds. It is clear she had given much of her strength to revive me. Caressing her face gently, I turn to face the direction in which the hoofbeats are coming. I turn to Lillit and indicate she remain silent. Turning back I watch as the riders come into view.

There were seven of them, all men, all wearing leather gear and bearing beaten swords that had seen battle. I rise from the bushes near the path upon which they tread and hearken to them.

"Help me...my friend and I...we were ambushed by thieves...they took all our belongings...please...help!"

The riders come to a halt as they hear my plea and face me. Behind their stone-set faces, they glare at me, trying to discern my threat to them. They study the muscles, the dark eyes, everything.

At last, one reaches up and takes off his cloak, tossing it to me. Silently, he disembarked, drawing his sword. "Show me this friend of yours." he commanded. I study the sword and shake my head,

"Please...I mean you no harm...just help her...the thieves beat her up..."

I wrap the cloak around my shoulders, where it covers me modestly. My eyes carefully watch the man as he steps closer and Lillit comes into view for him. The sharp intake of air is given.

It was then, I began to slowly work my demonic tentacles into his mind, probing, prying, secretly infecting the mind of the mortal.
Tanara
06-07-2005, 20:16
I can not but huddle in upon myself, especially as the human moves to where I know he can see me.

I who was created to incite desire, to be living temptation, now I am but an object of pity. My body is crisscrossed with open wounds as is my face. Hair so ragged and short it spikes up about my head. I hide my face in despair, and shame, unable to look up and see the disgust I know must be in the humans eyes.

Tears prickel my eyes, and shivers chase across my body, as the beginnings of a fever announce itself. Food is suddenly the last thing in my thoughts, or the wretched human studing me. 'I should die, that would free my Lord of this curse. He would be allowed to go home, be himself once again. I am nothing but a hindrance to him, a burden, a ugly useless burden' my thoughts spin as darkness dances in front of my eyes, and my huddle becomes a slump.
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 20:18
The man blinked several times as my probes completed at long last, having pushed easily enough past his basic defenses of the mind. With his entire mind now firmly in my grasp, I silently withdraw information like an open valve, information that we needed to know, to learn of the world in which we had been dumped like yesterday's trash.

I look to Lillit, who had become more pitiful in her appearance, and couldn't help but smile. She was fitting to the situation perfectly.

"Please...you've got to help her!" I begged the man. After a moment of hesitation, so applied by myself, he moved and gently lifted the woman's face, observing her wounds. He finally nods. "Beriz, Irfan, we're taking these two to Aleppo."

"Adil, are you sure? We don't know them. The Assyrians won't be welcoming either." protested Beriz with a concerned look in his eyes, and his sword drawn and at his side while he sat astride of the horse.

"Yes." Adil replied as he gently lifted the woman into his arms and looked to Beriz, "Give me your cloak. Show this woman some dignity will you!?!"

Beriz complied, watching as his cloak was wrapped around Lillit, and then her form lifted easily onto the horse. I was directed to ride with Irfan.
Tanara
06-07-2005, 20:29
It was well past mid afternoon before I came to my senses. The horse that bore me was stopped as the group spoke with guards at a city's gates. It did not take me long to over hear that it was the city of Aleppo, and that the guards were none too pleased to see the lot of us. I stirred slightly and the man holding my cloak wrapped form spoke soothingly and brought forth a boat of water to slake my thirst.

"Thank you" I murmured as the water, warm and stale as it was slaked my thirst and eased the dust from a parched thirst. I caught Abaddon's eyes as the horse he rode double on fidgeted near by. Closing my eyes I concentrated hard and in a second was listening to the thoughts of the dull witted gate guard. Slowly, for I was weak and still troulbled by pangs of hunger, I made what little compassion his wretched sould possessed well forth and his grumbling ceased. He gave the us the name of an inn, one with a history of kindness to those in trouble, and waved us in. I slumped back against the one holding me and let my thoughts flow, seeking those who had power in this place.
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 20:31
At the inn we had been directed to, I thanked the men that had assisted us. Adil would be nearby, doing his own thing for the time being until his services were required once more. The seed had been planted in him, and next time, he would buckle to my power with more ease. Still, he held his own free will, something that I was finding to be intriguing in its strength against some things I had been experimenting on Alex.

Inside the inn, Lillit had gathered the strength to hold herself up with my arm around her. With ease, I secured a room for the both of us. My hand drew a pouch from the interior of the cloak and dropped it onto the counter.

"I need you to find someone to find us...clothes."

I looked down to Lillit who nodded in agreement. Silently, I send her a thought. The humans' apparent shame in being nude perplexes me somewhat, but we must fit in.

I am worried for a moment that we have been denied our telepathic abilities, but am relieved only hardly a second or two later when she replies in a similar manner.

As it does to me, but yes...we must fit in.
Tanara
06-07-2005, 20:39
I didn't understand their shame, but I had learned over the centuries to use it to good advantage. And I certainly would in the future. Once in the tiny room, I let Abaddon ease me to the thin pad that served as bedding. It was clean and the thin linnen relatively fresh.

I insinuated my thoughts into the mind of the innkeepers wife, for it was she that showed us to the room. Her thoughts were simple and already inclinded by her very nature, and so it was easy to once again bring forth an upwelling of compassion and intent to see us well tended.

That last drained me to the point of exhaustion, and I was asleep in almost an instant, waking only to the scent of a spicy lamb stew. Pungent with local peppers and thick with grain it was the finest meal I'd ever eaten, or so it seemed at that famished moment. I scraped the bowl clean with a piece of the unleavened bread and looked about for more. With a smille the bowl was refilled, and a clay cup of cool well water offered as well.

Once I had eaten my fill the woman helped tend my wounds, washing them and binding strips of coarse cloth over them, practically encaseing my entire torso the lash wounds were so numerous. The thin shift was not uncomfortable either. The local climate made such supremely necessary. The men wore little more than kilts, save for leggings when they rode, themselves.
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 20:42
I too had taken part of the lamb stew, relishing in its taste and how it satified my taste buds. It was strange, for I had once lived and hadn't required food to survive, but only ate it out of habit. Now, I realized that food had become a necessity for survival. I didn't know how long we would live on this Earth, but I somehow knew one thing for sure. We would be here until a time unknown to us, and the duration would last far, far longer than any mortal man.

I sat down next to Lillit as she collapsed back onto the bed. She seemed to be regaining her strength. Stroking her calf, I spoke softly, "As soon as you're ready, we're going to start our work. I've been thinking of a way to repay the Seraphim for their actions against us..."

I told her the plans I had been dwelling upon for the last several hours within the next twenty minutes, then rose and walked to the window, feeling the breeze push past me. It was still bloody cold for my tastes, but we would need to adjust. At the window, I looked out upon the small city of Aleppo, turning my eyes to the palace. My eyes glinted darkly in their mischievousness.
Tanara
06-07-2005, 20:47
I listened to his plan as I half droused. It was a good one, and I'd gladly play my part. With a satisfied hunger and hours of sound, if intermittent, sleep my mood had improved considerably. I used some of my regained energy and managed to heal a portion of my injuries, though not completely by any means.

The night air was considerably colder than the heat of the day, it often was in such climes, and I saw him shiver as he looked out over the city.

"Beloved, come, you need rest too" I beconned him over to me. He gave one last glance out the opening and turned to the bed. I wrapped our blankets about us, nestling in against him, sharing our warmth and soon we were both asleep.
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 20:49
It was a strange land in which Lillit and I now walked. Daylight had taken hold of the skies once more, the peoples of the Earth prowling about their normal activities. And yet, they were vastly unawares of the eternal threat that walked amongst them. The very threat that hid in the skins of mortals, undiscernable as the demons that they truly were.

There was a military parade today of soldiers returning from some battle afar. Lining both sides, citizens cheered for their loves, and wept for those who had died in their courageous warfare. I could smell the fear in some of them as they thought to their enemies and wondered if they would pursue these pitiful warriors. There were more dead than those alive. I glance over to Lillit who nodded in reply to my silent thoughts, thoughts I didn't need to tell her. We shared an understanding of each other that far surpassed many other relations.

I followed the soldiers at a distance, always to the side and behind the masses. Lillit was nearby, her eyes scanning the crowds for anyone of importance that she could discern. She had her mission already plotted. It would be easier for her to secure what was necessary. Both of us knew of the eternal war, a war that all here on this Earth knew nothing of, or little if at all. War was a part of existence, war would be all these pitiful humans would ever have.

Slipping through the gates with easy enough mind-manipulation of the guards, I followed the soldiers as they arrived in their tents. I watched from the shadows as they removed their weaponry and set them down. Wounds came afresh of my sight, deep scars and open cuts across their torsos. The faces held grim looks, faces that had seen the true horrors of combat. Faces that could not deny the brutality and viciousness of human nature.

If only they knew of the vicious nature of the eternal kind...

At last, I turned, my cloak sweeping around behind me as I strode toward the commander's tent, so easily distinguished by the guards standing outside. Naturally, they shifted their spears, preventing me from entering.

"Speak thy business." one commanded to him, his blue eyes locked with mine. I returned the gaze with equal stare, but heavily influencing with eons of experience of war that I held.

"I seek to join this military." I stated simply, looking between the two guards, "Are you to prevent me from offering my services to the security and grand design of this nationstate?"

The guards looked at each other briefly, with one turning inward to report my presence. Several minutes later, he returned, holding the flap aside to allow entry. I took a moment to hesitate before I strode in. My strong muscular form filled the tent with an aura of power. Locking eyes with the commander, I strode forth and nodded briefly.

"Ye seek employment in my ranks, stranger?" prompted the commander as he set down his sword and shield onto several sacks that lay on the ground nearby.

"That is true." I replied, carefully watching the man.

"And what skills dost thou have?" the commander asked, finally turning fully to face the newcomer.

"I have fought in wars far from this land and have fought well. I know what I need to know." I replied again, my voice cold, experienced.

"And what of swordcraft? Are ye proficient?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

There was a ringing sound as metal flashed and another sword spun in the air from one of the other captains that stood to the side. Catching it easily by the hilt, I spun it about. The commander picked up his own sword and strode forth, immediately delivering a series of attacks. I smile darkly, and easily parried the shots. At the right time, I suddenly lashed out and let the blade lightly slice the man's throat in a considerable length. The test ended immediately, with the commander holding his hand up to the superficial wound and a look of surprise on his face.

"Excellent attack, I must say. You are fast, and cunning. You know well how to deal in combat." he reported. He turned away and gestured to one of the captains.

"See that he is fitted and supplied. I want him under your command."

I gaze upon the captain, a brazen man with rough features etching his face. The captain looked to me with cold grey eyes and gestured for me to follow.

"Wait!" came the commander's voice, causing me to stop and turn to him.

"What is your name, soldier?" he asked.

"Mathayus."

"Well met then, Mathayus. I am Commander Tigris."

I nod silently and turn away to follow the captain. After I was gone, I did not hear the last words of Tigris to another captain.

"Send word that we may have an assassin in our midst."
Tanara
06-07-2005, 20:55
I moved quietly among the crowds that had come to watch the return of the soldiers. One could not truly call it a parade, they had been badly beaten, and their shoulders were slumped, their features dejected, and far too many bore untended wounds.

That was a very bad sign, and I looked about the gathered throng. I noticed one thing immediately. None of the priestess of Ishtar were present. She was the chief goddess of war, and for her clergy to be missing ws a strange matter indeed. I continued wending my way among the citizens looking for other people of importance in the city. Here and there as I passed I sampled the thoughts of the humans...and influenced those thoughts in turn. They would remember me as some one special, though no particular reason as to 'why' would stand out. Those with status here would, over the coming days become more and more inclided to follow my wishes, I would carefully see to that.

I passed merchantmen and with smiles as payment ate of ripe figs, soft cheeses and freshly baked flat bread. I studied the market and the various stalls proporitiers, learning all I could as I wandered though their minds. Their avarice would make them easy to manipulate, and I set about making the first unnoticeable inroads into their minds. They too would eventually become mine.

At last I came to the Shrine of Ishtar. My delight could scarely be contained. Why before me stood the perfect reason that the warriors of Aleppo had lost their last engagement. The fane was untended, the rest of the shrines plot of land over grown, statues toppled and every sign of emptiness touched the temple. I searched the small complex. It was empty save for an old priestess in a small room near the back of the garden area.

"Grandmother, what has happened here? Doe no one come to worship?" My voice was kind as I sat near the woman's narrow cot. She lay on her side, her eyes covered with the milky white obstructions of advance glaucoma. She was all but blind and I could readily see she was toothless. Her voice was slow, and she halted many time in her recitation of the slow drift into forgotteness of the Temple of Ishtar in the city of Aleppo.

I would have to see about correcting that. The Goddess Ishtar would rise again to glory.
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 20:57
It had been several months since entering this fortified city of old. I now heed to the name of Mathayus, and had gained attention amongst the men in the military, for my dedication to an unknown training, and my proficiency in my strokes with the sword. Yet, even as I remained low, keeping to myself, there were eyes watching, waiting.

I have been briefly communicating with Lillit, as she worked her paths into the society. Slowly, but steadily, the temple of the goddess Ishtar was returning to good care, and was experiencing a new influx of worshippers. From afar, I saw these pawns of Lillit, going about their ingrained tasks like mindless sheep. When I could, I would compliment Lillit by telepath, but never gave any outward indication I was affiliated with her.

"Mathayus." came the husky voice of a captain, distracting me from my meditative seat upon the edge of a wall of the city. Word had passed quickly through the camps of the strange rituals of the muscular soldier, but none yet stepped forward to confront or question him.

I open my eyes, staring out to the darkening western sky. At last, I turned my head slightly to gaze upon the man. "Yes?"

"Commander Tigris wishes to speak to you immediately."

I nodded, before returning my gaze to the skies. Behind me, and not quite in the center of the city, the temple of Ishtar stood, with torches and fires illuminating the area with an unearthly glow. I listened as the messenger's footsteps faded away. Yet, it wasn't long before I smiled slightly as I sensed a familiar presence nearby.

"Hello, Ishtar."
Tanara
06-07-2005, 21:01
I sat next to him, remaining invisible, communicating mind to mind.

*The work goes slower than I wish, but Ishtar's temple is gaining ground. I have four of the most important clans in the city worshiping regulary and there are now two ordained priestesses.*

Leaning against him, I relished the chance to touch him, even in that small way. There had been no privacy for more than this

*In a week is the great festival of Ishtar. I intend to have several miracles worked. Do you wish me to openly show you favor at that time?*
Prince Abaddon
06-07-2005, 21:04
I did not remove my gaze upon the stars as I listened to Lillit's report on things happening in her work. Silently, I considered her question, and at last replied in an equally silent telepath of thoughts.

Movement through these humans must be done carefully, lest we attract the attention of our true foes. It is bad enough we are cursed to these pitiful bodies. I do not wish to see us cursed to worse predicaments than this.

Both of us fell silent for a moment as we simultaneously heard the approach of one of the patrols. He did not notice Lillit in my shadow, having grown accustomed to my large frame in the same spot for what seemed like hours. Now, the patrol ignored me, and consequently, Lillit as well. It was also a little bit of manipulation on my part.

For the ceremony, choose your miracles well. Nothing fancy or grand, but something notable enough to get me past these lower chains of society. Granted, I could go about it my way, but you and I both know that would attract too much attention at this point in time.

I gave her a dark chuckle attached to the thoughts, before continuing.

I have been putting some thoughts into some of the men here. There will be an uprising, an attempted coup of the military command. I will strike them down and hard. This will open up more opportunities for us...

At last, I rose to my feet as the last of the fading sunset finally was extinguished by the cold tentacles of the dark and moonless night. I turn to her, and nod slowly. My eyes flash momentarily, returning to the demonic eyes she knew so well, before flashing again to the human eyes that I had adopted.

Work hard, my demoness, and you shall be rewarded in due time.

"I must go now." I say aloud to her, "Commander Tigris awaits my arrival."
Tanara
06-07-2005, 21:07
I watched my love leave, a tiny smile upon my lips. The flash of his beautiful eyes made the cold vanish, and I felt his love envelope me. Then I too departed.

The temple had been restored to it's former state, but I wanted more, especially for the Festival. THe day and night of revelery would leve me exhausted so better to set things in motion now. Moving with quiet alertness I wended my way to the home of a prominent merchant. His youngest daughter, the light of his eye, was not recovering well from her labor three days prior. He was too stubborn to come to the temple, but his wives had come close to cursing him.

It would behoove the temple to come to him. He would see the old priestess, but it would be I in her guise and heal his daughter. My healing was suffecient for that. And he would owe the temple, oh yes he would.