SCII: Changing (Venus5 & darjeeling)

When she resurfaced from the rubble of broken buildings, the horizon was awash in color; a burst of falling fire surrounded by shadowed clouds reaching over a field dotted with the remaining Zerg sweeping overhead. Her slender wings clicked and stretched out as she drank in the victory. The battle was over; the Dominion army was retreating with their tails tucked between their legs. There was no reason to send her forces after them. Mengsk was dead and with it, her vengeance was complete and yet... yet, Mengsk was dead but it came a cost too heavy for Kerrigan to feel any amount of satisfaction from it.

The web-like markings on her face glowed a deep purple as she gazed over the carnage. Exploded carapaces, corpses and stains of blood painted the soil and Kerrigan saw nothing but the Moros exploding; the pieces were possibly still floating in Dominion space and with it, the man she had hoped to save. Jim Raynor's death should have been water under the bridge, and though she had taken out Mengsk, the man could have died a thousand, a million times over and Kerrigan knew that would have not been enough to sate her. But she could not give in to these thoughts; she was no longer infested, but reborn and her will was her own.

Kerrigan rose, leaving behind the wasteland of Korhal and with her forces to the leviathan. She could not, would not, stop and weep or rest. Amon still needed to be found and confronted. The groans of the leviathan was oddly comforting, but in this instance all she could think of was its one failing. Her temper darkened as, within the cavernous, pulsating mass, Izsha welcomed her return. The Zerg was as impassive as ever and despite her spiraling thoughts, Kerrigan understood the sincerity. After all, the Swarm obeyed without question.

"A decisive victory, my Queen." Izsha spoke, her suspended form swaying to and fro, her prehensile appendages flicking back and forth. "Shall we search for the Fallen One?" When Kerrigan did not respond, Izsha gestured towards a tunnel that led deeper into the ship. "Our prisoner has awakened." At that the Queen of Blades pursed her lips and nodded. Izsha inclined her head as Kerrigan stalked past. There was nothing more she would like to do than find that damned xel'naga and destroy him but she had no clues. Izsha and her Swarm would do as she bid but even then it would take time; time she did not want to waste brooding away.

Kerrigan swept aside a wall hiding away a small room with a single wave of her hand. The interior looked no different than the rest of the leviathan save for the stray tendrils lining the sides that snapped at the lone body located in the middle of the enclosed space. The female was one of the Ghosts associated with the Terran Dominion, of that Kerrigan knew. But she did not know the agent's name, only that she was one of the many who was to blame for Raynor's capture and ultimately, his death. The very reason why the Queen of Blades had not yet torn the Ghost to pieces was simply that she could detect the psionic power brimming within. Abathur claimed that she might be of use and to consider infestation.

"Arcturus Mengsk is dead." Kerrigan said simply as she looked upon the Ghost now. "I killed him."​

"I have no cause to lie." Despite it all, the barest hint of a smirk danced across her lips; a single thread of satisfaction embroidered between emotions uncharacteristic of a Zerg, pure or not. She observed the female terran coolly as the blonde struggled against her bonds, not out of keen interest but in a way one might take note of a small animal in a cage. That was what the woman was, after all. Abathur sounded eager to get his spindly appendages over the Ghost and make revolutionary changes, much like he had done with Zagara.

The Queen would have allowed it had it not been for the simple fact: she was not his to toy with.

Her wings swayed as Kerrigan shifted her weight from one leg to the other, then shrugged lightly. "Who is it you speak of? With Mengsk dead, Korhal is in disarray and turmoil. The Dominion is no match for my Swarm." At the blonde's empty albeit brave threat, she sneered ever so slightly and raise an eyebrow. "You should watch your tongue." Despite her captive's potential psionic capabilities, Kerrigan felt no fear. She had been through too much to feel any such thing and being threatened on her very own leviathan was laughable.

Kerrigan took a step forward, the lashing tendrils ceasing their frenzied movements in an instant. She did not know this woman but there was a familiarity there, hidden deep within her memories of a time she both longed for and to forget. The terran's tone was not disregarded either, though Kerrigan kept the revelation well away from her expression. She'd heard it before - the tinge of something precious taken so sudden, but rather than feel pity for the soldier, there was nothing. Mengsk deserved to die and no amount of sadness for him would atone for his crimes.

She looked upon the kidnapped Ghost as Kerrigan considered the woman's inquiry. To be researched, to be assimilated, to fill the spreading void which sweet vengeance should have filled. This woman was responsible, or at least partially so. She hadn't given it much thought, but the sudden realization and recollection of Jim's death made her brow furrow fiercely and she took the remaining steps required so that she stood a mere foot away from her prisoner. The appendages which sprouted from the walls were sturdy enough to keep her on the ground, so Kerrigan leaned forward and placed a single viciously sharp claw beneath the blonde's chin and tilted her face upwards.

Her eyes remained a clear, silvery purple hue though the violet streaks never faded in its shimmer. The pointed tip of her finger pricked into the blonde's skin as the masked smirk made itself more apparent. "What is your name?" Kerrigan asked finally. She was not obligated to answer any questions a Dominion solider might have for her. "Or shall I give you one?"​

Kerrigan’s eyes flashed and she hissed; the sound alien and unlike one any human could make. The carapace-coated clicking of a zergling nearby responded to its Queen’s distress, peering inside with undulating chitters. She bared her teeth as it bowed and slunk away but the interference of her brood was something she expected and something she would have to keep in mind. Glancing down at the bold-eyed assassin, she might have given the girl credit for being so audacious as to speak up not once but twice. But there was little safety to be offered where Raynor was concerned. Though Nova did not mention any details that might have incriminated the terran, the Queen of Blades was privy to what the ghost was talking about: and that Nova herself was also fully aware of the part she played.

Her wings creaked, the sound almost impatient but Kerrigan was not. “That was a poor move,” she murmured, and surprisingly her voice lacked the viciousness expected. She twisted the Ghost’s head from side to side, appraising the sharp curve of her face and the loose strands of blonde hair falling waywardly. Nova was what she could have been, not as the Queen of Blades but as Sarah Kerrigan. There were tales untold within her captive’s eyes, she could see it clearly but while Kerrigan saw herself in the young terran, she was unable to forgive. “I fully intend on reclaiming what I paid; a life for a life.”

She grasped Nova’s chin between her thumb and index finger, the rest of her digits curling slowly so that the sharp points of her nails grazed the other’s throat softly; not yet dangerous, but certainly threatening. She continued to stroke the flesh; her movements were methodical to a fault, as she spoke. “You are mentally prepared, perhaps,” Kerrigan acquiesced, admiring the tenderness; the uneven beat of Nova’s pulse; one slip and her breath could so easily be ripped out in an instant. Even easier would be to cultivate the girl’s essence and have the whole ordeal be done with. “But I assure you, I fully intend on challenging that claim.”

After all, the fact that she had not yet crushed Nova’s throat should have been fact enough. Kerrigan could feel the strangeness in her body intermingling with the slow rush of authority coursing through her veins. It was a feeling she had only felt once before, but never did she expect that her primal form would desire something more than power and subservience. Only once or twice had parts of her swarm defied her and she had shown them their place – the fact that it was coming from a terran; the one who thought to have her taken to Mengsk and responsible for Raynor’s death no less…

Without a word, the tendrils curled around Nova’s wrists snapped upwards, dragging the prostrate girl upwards so that she was more or less eye level with Kerrigan’s collarbone. She let go of Nova’s face, almost as if flinging the feeling away but Kerrigan had no intention of simply leaving this as is. She twitched another digit, coaxing a fleshy vine from the solid ground and merely let it waver there as she leaned in; her chin almost resting against the top of the other’s head. The terran smelled of Dominion soil; feminine and earthy, nothing like the zerg she is and was. Most of all, the assassin against all odds, reminded her of Jim.

“Tell me, Nova.” Kerrigan said; her voice was almost a contralto purr riddled in both threat and the beginnings of sensuality. “What did you hope to achieve?” Once more lifting her hand, she laid it against the blonde’s shoulder and dug her claws against her suit. “What happens if I shred away your layers,” at that, she ripped through the fabric with little difficulty to lay bare a strip of skin. “Will you be prepared then?”​

There was no denying that there was something desirable about this woman, this terran who had been so foolish to attempt something almost impossible. It was the boldness, or the fire that burned still and spoke of defiance and the presence of an iron will and it was exactly for that reason that Kerrigan wished to, at the very least, dim the flames. The Queen of Blades never eschewed the notion that she was a vengeful creature. In fact, her decisions now had foundations built atop the very idea of vengeance. So there was absolutely no denying that more than a part of her wished to take this opportunity to slake her thirst for more than her twisted retribution.

"I'd hope so," was Kerrigan's simple response; having no intention of being coy or shy about her motives, and indeed found the thought of it somewhat of a bore, she continued to rip a jagged stripe right through the fabric around the woman's shoulder blade. Dragging her claws down Nova's ribs and relishing the familiar feel of bones in their familiar places, Kerrigan once more took in the other's scent with no amount of hesitation. Her voice was still a warm delicacy as she brought her other hand down against the blonde's hip. "If there's one thing I don't miss, it's how pliant we are - were." Kerrigan shifted so that she was now eye level with her prisoner, her razor tipped digits picking away at the usually sturdy material around the woman's waist with ease. "It would be such a shame if you broke so quickly."

The strange yet telling tendril curled itself around Nova's leg, the very tip of it barely brushing the woman's thigh, sliding and nuzzling itself against the blonde's inner thigh though it never dared to venture too close - perhaps tortuously so. With the woman's wrists locked high above their heads, Nova's feet could only barely touch the ground, held in place for Kerrigan to drink in any expression that might come to pass. However, whilst the Queen of Blades enjoyed such games of subtlety from time to time, that time was not now. "This," she said as she ripped away the now loose material, "is an annoyance."

Creating a messy, narrow gap in the fabric between top and bottom, it made the suit look like a crude two piece and without another word, Kerrigan's claws, having finished their task, dragged their way across the other's waist before gripping the woman's hips with both hands and drew Nova closer, crushing their breasts together despite the threat of the sharp carapace lining the Swarm Queen's sternum. Her knee pressed between Nova's legs, pushing them apart as the tendril continued its teasing ministrations.

The corners of her mouth curled into a crude smirk before Kerrigan darted forward that meager distance to capture Nova's lips into a crushing kiss. She licked, nibbled and pulled at the blonde's lower lip roughly, throwing away all possibility of being gentle as her claws too dug into the woman's hip bones. Her tongue probed and pushed, much like the zerg were wont to do, laying claim to the Ghost as she all but forced her captive into a sloppy lip lock.​

Kerrigan did not pursue the woman as she was finally able to remove herself from the Queen's ravishing. Her lips shone with moisture, a sharp claw reaching up to swipe away a strand of saliva sliding down her chin. One hand moved away from where it was stationed, leaving only the other to grasp and hold Nova's hips in place. She cupped the terran female's cheek, a finger curling beneath her jaw and her thumb stroking her lower lip almost tenderly, gauging Nova's flustered expression with amusement. She considered another surprise attack but was halted as the blonde retaliated with her own flabbergasted inquiries.

"Did you think I would give you a quick death?" The Queen of Blades spoke as she dragged her dagger-sharp nails down the woman's thigh. "That's more than you deserve." Lines of pale crimson followed the sound of fabric tearing - Kerrigan was careful not to fatally wound her prey, not after what she'd just promised. Torture was not part of her regime and rarely did they keep prisoners on the leviathan. But all these thoughts had been done and dusted and her mind was made up. Whether or not Nova shunned her advances was of no interest to her. She was weaponless, armor-less and helpless.

Wasting not a single breath with another word, Kerrigan grasped the woman's chin again, this time dragging it to the side and tilting it upwards to give her teeth easy access to the other's smooth neck. Her canines scraped along the blonde's jugular vein lightly, relishing quickening and uneven pulse, before closing her lips around a patch of heated skin and biting against it, bringing her blood to the surface in a tell-tale bruise. It was not a typical Zerg's way of marking their property, but Kerrigan preferred that Nova be properly prepared for that; generic stimulation was the easiest way for now. Her wings clacked, bumping against each other as the Queen of Blades kissed and bit a vicious path of reddening patches down the woman's warm neck.

Her claws swept away the tattered odds and ends that remained of the suit, displaying the bare curve of a collar bone for her to nip at. She purred against the bite, glancing up at the blonde's face to perhaps catch a glimpse of her reactions as she pulled apart the remains of the suit down to hang loosely like an unbuttoned shirt. Greeted with nothing but a bare bosom, Kerrigan merely smirked as she laid a rough kiss along the tops of Nova's upper breasts. She ran her cool, calloused hands down the sides of her prey's hypersensitive body, her nails striking a glissando down her ribs in perfect symmetry; her tongue painted a damp trail straight down between Nova's breasts, and curving the crevice where they draped over her ribcage.

All the while the snake-like tendril, having already wound itself tightly around one of Nova's thighs, was beginning to rub the very tip of it against the apex between her legs. The motions were light at best and agonizingly slow as Kerrigan's knee kept her lower limbs parted and even sought to create an easier entry point with no means of fighting back the sensations.​

The terran's flesh was supple against her mouth, as fragile as any other woman. Nova gave way easily to Kerrigan's sharp teeth that sought to blemish the smooth expanse of her skin with every mark possible; indent-ringed red splotches and ovals of burst blood vessels coaxed upwards. Not that any creature on this ship would know their significance, Kerrigan would and really, no-one else mattered. It was rough and territorial, exactly as the zerg were wont to do. She dragged her canines downwards without stopping.

The claws resting against Nova's ribs did not sit idle. They prickled and pressed against the pliant flesh, riddling the toned surface of her stomach with little nicks and stinging scratches. Those would not last. Admittedly, the Queen of Blades had an entirely unhealthy fascination with Nova's abdominals. They played at strength and lithe flexibility yet the woman was being entirely undone by Kerrigan's ministrations. She smirked against the heat of her prey's breast as she felt Nova's stomach pushed up against her palms.

"Not a moment before, hm?" Kerrigan chuckled, a low purr rumbling away at her throat. It sounded to her like Nova had resigned herself to her fate, though obviously without a fight nor did she show any signs of halting her useless struggles. The Swarm Queen only laughed as her captive was interrupted in the middle of her empty threats. She shook her head, the purple hues of her eyes glowering as she captured a turgid nipple betwixt her lips; she played nice for the moment, scraping just the edges of her teeth against that hypersensitive tip before wrapping her dextrous tongue around it.

But the faux cordiality didn't last long. Her hands roamed upwards in sync before one strayed away to grasp the small of Nova's back and the other palming the blonde's unattended perky breast. Her thumb and index grasped at the peak, tugging and rolling the pebbled surface between the pads of her digits. She alternated between tweaking and kneading the rest of her fingers into the fleshy mound, determined to tease out another wayward gasp or even a groan of defeated pleasure. Perhaps she'd make the terran work for it and with that wicked thought in mind, Kerrigan willed the tendril to draw out its slipping and sliding between Nova's thighs, the bulbous head rubbing every which way, using the intact fabric to stimulate what was beneath.

"Why don't you finish what you were about to say?" Kerrigan encouraged between her suckling and nipping. "What if I don't kill you?" Her own loins were beginning to burn and soon the Queen was grinning salaciously against the woman's breast. If nothing else, she'd see the look of either surprise, horror or a combination of both when her arousal came to fruition. "What if I keep you here, tied up like this for me to greet, like this," she gripped her claws painfully against Nova's back, pressing the terran into her, "every day?"​