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[PRIVATE] Beating ;

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#4
10-11-2015, 02:30 AM

TANDAVI & NATRAJ</style>
we walked a lonely road
beneath the fire of a thousand suns</style>

Her name on his lips is a vile caress, neurotoxin tingling upon her tongue, knife blades pulled against her skin. She resists the urge to shudder, her body twisting against the weight of him, resistance in every line of her golden form. Copper figure arches and aches beneath his gravity, tension keeping her muscles alert. The smell of him fills her, intoxicating her; she steps and thrashes in time with the beast, refusing to make the charge he desires, willing him to come to him, to shatter beneath the weight of her flame.

She hates him. She knows this; it is an easy feeling, powerful, consuming, the brightest flame in her blazing heart. So why, why, does she need him so? Nebulous flanks give way to a flickering tail; she steps away as he steps toward, the stench of him heavy and heady in her nostrils. Do all men smell like this, or is it only him? Sacre has an odor, and she wills the memory of it to arise, raises it about her as an olfactory shield. Sacre is light, Sacre is pleasant, Sacre is safety, Sacre is...

Sacre is dull.

He is bright.

The Fire Dancer is dull. She is a beacon dimmed by fear and uncertainty, the sun on a cloudy day- she is afraid, and has been for years, since that day when darkness swallowed the world and the girl's family with it. She has wandered in shadow since then, viewing the world from behind a film, unwilling to leave and unable to touch. She has shied away from challenges, from feelings, from pain. She has been a coward, and she has hated herself for it, but her hatred is not enough. She needs a catalyst, a push off the edge, a darkness so perfect she has no choice but to burn bright. The girl needs something not to hate, but to loathe.

She needs him.

She loathes him.

She meets his charge with electric glee, magic crackling from eager veins and jumping into the waiting air. His body is a mountain, hers a flame; she is a force of nature, a raging storm, and she hopes to tear him apart stone by stone, build herself back with the remains. The bubble of lightning floats between them, and she leaps aside, unwilling to let her touch him yet, happy to play him like a mouse. The force of his body presses against her like a gale, but she is fire, she is smoke; she is untouchable, and he is a lump, Goliath trying to defeat a dancer. She is bound to win.

Why does she loathe him?

He forces me to be alive.

"Demon," she hisses to the echo of him, mirth and mockery bright in her tones. "You think that you can handle me? "

Why does she love- NO! She howls her denial, her refusal, her rage, spinning to strike him in his stupid, ugly face. She does not love him. This is not love. It's want. It's hate. It's need. She needs him, yearns for him, because he's the only one who doesn't care, the only one who's cruel enough to force her to be everything she can be, even if she does not want to.

"Make me feel alive, Reginald," she begs him as her hind legs land and she springs away, dancing once more out of his reach, slate hooves clattering against cold, judgmental stone.

credit | credit


@Reginald

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!

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Messages In This Thread
Beating ; - by Reginald - 08-25-2015, 12:02 PM
RE: Beating ; - by Tandavi - 09-02-2015, 01:33 AM
RE: Beating ; - by Reginald - 09-09-2015, 08:03 AM
RE: Beating ; - by Tandavi - 10-11-2015, 02:30 AM

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