She (Juumbled x Vekraihr)

[Vekraihr]

Droharas

The fourth planet in its system, Droharas is an earthlike terrestrial planet with a surface composition of approximately 38% landmass and 62% water. Each pole is covered in a blue-white ice cap which helps to regulate the temperature on the surface. Much of the land is covered in verdant plant life which seems to sprawl almost uninhibited across the surface. 6 different continents rise from the oceans around the planet, each having its own unique shape and landscape. A large desert exists on one of the continents, spanning the lower half of the landmass and flanked by a tall mountain range on all of its land borders. Several other mountain ranges crop up around the others, 9 major mountain ranges in total and 5 minor.

It is upon Droharas where we find a society, steeped in traditions and history, which thrives with its use of magic, mechanics, and trades. Steam vents out from copper tubes into the skies above the rooftop. Gears spin inside of clockwork contraptions of all shapes and sizes, moving gates, freight elevators, doorways, and so much more. Crystals glitter in the sides of airships, humming with hidden energy as they slice through the winds to wherever their tasks carry them. Several large cities pepper the countryside, with smaller villages scattered hither and yon. However, no other city holds a candle to the radiance of the capital, Moritaria.

Built against the mountainside in the Jotunbjorn Tundra, the city comprises of concentric hemispheres of increasing altitude, with the inner ring pressed against the mountain herself. Towers rise up from within the walls of the city, each comprised of some unique material or craftsmanship. Some rise to dizzying heights which seem to be attempting to rival even the very rock the metropolis is buttressed against. Houses, businesses, warehouses, cafes, restaurants, shops, and more line the streets of the bustling hub, seeing that the streets are never fully quieted and abandoned. At night, gas lamps light up automatically, lining the streets with beautiful, warm amber firelight. Several major roadways see their origin here, sprawling out to all directions of the continent as they bring wagons, carriages, and feet of all kinds.

In the center ring, an elaborate palace keeps vigil over the peoples of Moritaria, monarchy of Traleria. Carved from dark, beautiful stone, decorated with silver and copper elements and filigree, and resplendent with tapestries of the royal family's colors and crest. A black field surrounds a silver crest that is separated into four quadrants, one holding a singular, white bird. Diagonally opposite the bird sits a brilliant-looking ultramarine crystal, shimmering from the powdered gemstone which had been woven into the fabric. Silver embroidery decorates the other two portions, forming elaborate patterns that seem to get more complex the longer one looks or the closer one gets.

"In the darkest year, a mighty star shall appear in the sky. Its brilliance shall have no equal and it shall grow and grow until nothing is left of the heavens. Then, it will consume our lands, our peoples, our lives. Only one can save us from our fate and She has been lost to time."​

The soothsayer's prophecy was grim and absolute, foretelling of a great calamity that would befall the lands of Droharas. A comet from the furthest reaches of the firmament would smite the planet and bring about the end of all which had been wrought by the societies there. Their only hope at salvation was a myth as old as time itself, an ancient entity known as She. She was said to have birthed the first men and gifted them the lands of Droharas to allow them to grow and prosper. Then, as civilization began to grow, She disappeared without a trace and left the denizens to flourish on their own. As time passed, She was forgotten by many, but remembered by sects of those who still cherished the old knowledge.



Now, the year of darkness is upon Droharas, when the planets of the solar system align in just the right way to lead to a month-long period of absolute darkness. In keeping with predictions, a new star appeared in the night sky and began to slowly grow in intensity until its light was brighter than any of the other stars and a long tail of cosmic debris glittered behind it. Panic has begun to set in with the people of Traleria as the court scientists, artificers, and diviners have spent years and years trying to find either a solution or the prophesied savior. It is in the dark year where this story begins.

 

[Jumbled]

A pointed and precise tongue gently glided upward along the soft curve of a supple breast, circling slowly along the nipple until her mouth centered and closed. A delicate bite tugged at it before she released her teeth and began to swirl her tongue in smooth circles. She could hear moaning from above and feel the forceful grip of fingers pushing through her snowy white hair only to retract with nails scratching at her scalp. Her fingers were just as antsy as her partner’s. She allowed one of her hands to travel upward slowly along the woman’s inner thigh, her porcelain skin a contrast to the woman’s darker complexion. Seeking that warm center that begged for her attention, her fingers met a slick and warm greeting. With firm, circular motions, the moaning from above increased. A smirk curled her lips away from her toy.

_____________________________________________________________________________​

The morning wasn’t a busy time for a clothing store. Lavinia walked her shop, straightening various mannequins and hangers. A chime caught her attention and her hungry eyes lifted to the door. She walked closer to the entryway, folding a shirt effortlessly as she stared at the darker skinned woman that took several steps in toward the first display of vests. Lavinia placed the shirt down, just barely breaking her gaze as she bit her lip. She’d seen this woman several times before; at this point she was a regular.

Silent footsteps carried her over closer, like a lion stalking her prey. Lavinia was taller than this woman, something she also enjoyed just for the fun of it all. She tilted her head to the side as if she were also considering the vest the woman held up in the air. It was convincing enough. She owned the damned shop and had played this game many times before.

“It looks good. You should try it on… You go on ahead to the fitting room. I’m going to find a few more pieces for you and be right in to help you.” she said. Her voice was soft and low.

“Oh, thank you.” the woman replied. She looked at Lavinia curiously, trying to determine if there was a reason behind such a lustful voice. She was intrigued at the very least.

Lavinia walked over to the front door, turning the lock and flipping the sign around to indicate she was not open for business. Then, with a purposeful stride, she moved to the fitting rooms, gathering several articles of clothing to go along with her ruse.

“Coming in,” she warned. Pushing her way through the velvety red curtain, Lavinia entered the dressing room and glanced at the woman as she adorned the vest she’d taken in with her. Licking her lips, she looked down at the other options she’d chosen for the woman. She could have tried harder. Nothing even matched. “It looks good on you. You should try it with the shirt off, though. This fashion is meant for the clubs. You need the full picture to know how you feel about it, hun.” she told her.

“Oh, yeah. I suppose so. You don’t mind? My blouse is buttoned all up the back. It’s a real bitch to get off.”

“Allow me,” Lavinia was happy for the opportunity. She had already spied the troublesome blouse earlier. With light hands, Lavinia removed the vest, hanging it on a hook nearby. She then went to work, slowly undoing each button one by one. Every twist of her fingers was a precise movement aiming to make the woman shiver. “There,” she said as the last button was undone. The woman allowed the shirt to slide off of her body. It fell to the floor, a good indication that she had succeeded in distracting her. Before more words were spoken, Lavinia unhooked the woman’s bra. This action seemed to snap her back to reality. The woman shifted as if she had become uncomfortable.

“It’s alright. You wouldn’t wear that with the vest,” she insisted. Every time she spoke, it was as if she was casting a spell over the woman. Lavinia retrieved the vest once more, holding it in such a way that the woman could slide her arms through it. Lavinia moved closer as she guided the vest over the woman’s back. Her hands slid forward as she stared into the woman’s dark eyes with her own pink irises through the reflection of the mirror. Without breaking her eye contact, she covered her breasts with the fabric, running her hands down either sides to straighten it over her curves. She could feel her nipples beginning to perk up from her touch.

Lavinia returned her hands to the edges of the vest, her body now pressed against the woman’s. She breathed warm air against her ear as she glided her tongue along its edge slowly. Her hands shifted from the outside of the fabric to the woman’s bareskin, her eager fingers already slowly teasing and tugging at her.

“I’m going to make you scream…” she whispered deviously into that same ear.

_____________________________________________________________________________
​

Lavinia grinded her body into the unnamed female before her. Her fingers plunged forcefully inside of her, curving upward causing the woman to cry out in pleasure through their aggressive kissing. The woman, nearing her climax, had her nails digging into the back of Lavinia’s neck while her other hand aggressively had a handful of her hair.

“What will the other customers think when they hear you, darling? How will they stare at you as you leave this room…” she whispered as she broke free from their kissing. “They’re listening to you, baby. They wanna hear you cum for me.” Lavinia continued. The woman had no idea she’d locked the doors to the general public and at the thought of people being around, she began to quake against Lavinia’s hand, screaming in pleasure. “You’re so naughty. Look at you,” she told her as she grabbed the woman’s chin with her wet fingers. She forced her to stare at the mirror as she rubbed the woman’s bottom lip with the proof of a job well done.

Lavinia laughed softly, removing her hand as she licked what remained off of her fingers. “The vest looks good. You should buy it.” she said as she pushed the curtain aside to leave the woman alone in the fitting room. She would have continued to play for a while longer but something pulled her attention away, distracting her from her fun. Something had changed in her shop, but she wasn’t sure about what she was sensing. The bell above the door didn’t ring, and yet…

She stood just outside of the fitting rooms, her shoulder length, unusually white hair ruffled and out of sorts. Her arms folded over her chest that had cleavage flowing upward from the aid of a corset that pushed everything up and into place. She stood there, tapping her toe impatiently against the ground. Her legs were dressed in dark boots that went up just past her ankle. The skirt of her blue dress was tied up in the front, hanging in black ruffles at a longer length in the back, exposing most of her legs that were dressed in netted stockings.

The girl came out of the dressing room and Lavinia glanced back at her. The poor thing looked upset. “Come here.” she said in a rather assertive tone. The girl obeyed and Lavinia took care to button up her blouse properly, straightening her up so that she wasn’t heading back out onto the streets looking like a proper whore. “There, beautiful as a flower. You can have the vest. It’s lovely on you. No charge. Now go unlock the door and let yourself out, hun.” she told her, her voice returning to a gentle and reassuring tone.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas stood at the statuesque outer walls of the grand city of Moritaria, his warm breath forming a mist at his lips and nostrils. Winter hadn't shown himself, yet, but his presence could be felt on the winds as his approach hastened. Deep blue hues gazed skyward to the fingers of steam, smoke, metal, and stone which broke free from the confines of the cityscape. As he breathed in; the sharp tang of copper and iron combined with the crispness of the cool autumn air, biting at his senses in not an unpleasant way. He stepped towards the portcullis as the hiss of steam preceded the rise of the wrought iron gate which protected this entrance. The clicks and clangs of metal gears and levers accompanied every foot of rise, ringing out into the early morning air.

Already, he could hear the low commotion of the streets which were rousing to activity as the dawning sun began to burn away the haze accumulated from the cooler evening. Plumes of steam occasionally sprouted up from different locations within the city, existing only briefly before dissolving into the atmosphere. Smoke stained with the black flecks of coal wisped upwards, spiraling tendrils reaching higher into the Stratos before being taken upon the prevailing winds. Various degrees of clatter could be heard, from the consistent tune of wooden wheels upon brick pavement to the disorganized racket of full plate mail. This city was alive and bustling with the buzz of human activity.

He'd arrived here after a few weeks of travel, having entered this plane of existence some ways away from the capital and the source of energy which called him in the first place. He moved slowly, by foot, as men tended to when they desired to rediscover the world. This world was quite different now than from the last time he'd felt dirt beneath his feet. Even the soil seemed different, drier, and less nourished than it had been in days past. Perhaps the consequence of progress, he thought. His clothes ruffled with a stiff gust that accosted him from the side, loosening the tie in his dark blond locks as a few strands liberated from their confinement.

A black, double-lapel pea coat sat overtop a button-up shirt of charcoal gray with onyx embroidery which displayed complex geometric patterns. Each of the buttons was beautifully crafted of antique silver, polished but aged and shaped into motifs that complimented the shirt. On his legs were straight-legged pants with pristine, sharp creases pressed in exactly the right places, held in place by a black leather belt and antique silver buckle which followed the theme his buttons introduced. Polished, immaculate shoes with squared toes landed upon the ground in rhythm to his steps.

As he marched through the portal, the city guard eyed the man with equal parts of curiosity and suspicion. "Oi, you there! Not seen you 'round here. You got business? Papers?" one called towards Rasalas, puffing his chest up as the armored men flanked the cobblestone road upon which his footfalls clicked. "No, I haven't any I would like to discuss with you. And I haven't a need for papers," his bass voice issued forth, powerful and resonant as he continued to walk through despite the defensive posturing of the men. All that was managed in response was timid stammering, "Y-yes..O-o-of course, m'lord!" His compatriots looked on with bewilderment as they tried to make sense of the sputtering presence their captain had suddenly been reduced to. None lifted an eye nor sword towards the force of presence which strode past them with an almost otherworldly smoothness to his gait.

Gas lamps lined the street he followed, darkened but still warm from their overnight work as the cool air warped around the metal and glass surfaces. Small crowds were already beginning to form in places as vendors of various types began opening for the day's commerce. In the air, the smell of frying eggs, bacon, smoked ham, sausages, potatoes, and coffee began to waft about through this circle's financial district. Despite the tantalizing aromas which teased his nostrils and wet his palate, his focus stayed intent on an unseen point which his feet carried him towards with fervor and purpose. He drew nearer his intent with every stride before he stopped before a modest clothing shop.

Upon the door hung a sign stating the business was closed, but he could feel the presences within and one was the one he'd been seeking over these many days. He tried the door, only to feel it resist him as the lock kept the door from swinging inwards. A trivial matter, to be sure. His blue eyes seemed to look through the walls and, in an instant, he stood within the boutique's interior. Arms crossed as he walked slowly along the interior wall, gazing towards the velvety curtains from beyond which noises of carnal delight cried out. ~This is what you've chosen to do with your free time?~ he questioned internally as he found himself in a corner, leaned against the wall in a relaxed manner.

He reached into his tarnished gold strands, fingers deftly undoing the loosed, silken tie before pulling taut once again. He enjoyed his hair to be neat and orderly, an unusual predilection which plagued him for his entire existence. His entire appearance relayed as much, from his choice of dress down to his angular, symmetrical facial features. Conventionally, he was beyond handsome, though there was a quality about him which made it almost uncomfortable for mortal eyes to gaze at him. Perhaps it was his very nature to not be gazed into too deeply. It's said that when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back. Such a silly sentiment, he thought. He loathed staring at anyone.

Lascivious noises continued to echo into the shop and he couldn't help but to grin as he thought of whatever poor thing had fallen into the lioness' den. Muffled taunts could be heard and while he couldn't make out the entirety of what was being said, he felt the intent. ~Such impropriety,~ thought he who stood and listened to what clearly was meant to be a private act. Hasty rustling was followed by a dark-skinned woman, clearly disheveled and flustered, exiting from the reaches of the store and retreating through the door after fumbling briefly with the lock. It seemed she hadn't noticed his presence or, at the very least, was too embarrassed to acknowledge it. This woman was not the target of his attention, however.

Shortly following her conquest came the figure which beckoned to him as a lighthouse might guide a ship ashore upon a stormy night. His severe features were presented with an equal measure of disapproval. Soles clicked on the wooden floor as he stepped towards Lavinia with his otherworldly grace. He was tall, though not so much more than she was as to cause her to appear diminutive. His deep blue eyes were set upon her, probing her depths in an almost intrusive fashion. "I must say, it has been quite some time when last we met, She," his tone was deliberate and brusque, as though he was discontented just to speak with her. "I'm not certain as to the extent of your proclivities, but, just in the few weeks since my return, I've witnessed tales of people disappearing from their homes. I've seen the Great Traveller growing in intensity, filling the populace with dread. It is time for the prophecy to be fulfilled and you must accept your role in it," his continuation was direct and to the point, not having the patience nor desire to mince words or dance around the subject.

 

[Jumbled]

Slowly tilting her head to the side, Lavinia allowed tension to release with several pops that trailed up her neck. She closed her eyes, as if somehow it might freeze the moment between the sound of her door unlocking and opening, with the slightest jingle of bells, and it shutting once more; that moment before she had to walk out from the seclusion of the fitting rooms to face what she could feel waiting for her within the shop. Lavinia straightened, though she was not yet ready to face him. She opened her eyes, her long eyelashes glittering in silvers and blues with help from the lights overhead.

“Alright. Let’s go.” she whispered, hissing in warning like a snake might before it intended to strike. Her boots struck the floor pleasantly as she sashayed out onto the sales floor with one hand planted firmly on her hip. She gazed out among the coats and vests, the ruffles and feathers that dressed the air with their colors; pretty as a peacock. Now if only she could just find the cock.

Lavinia’s head turned as she surveyed the room, stopping as her eyes locked with those of the looming, too well dressed, figure. They slit angrily as her free hand clenched into a fist. His long hair may as well have been spun from straw into gold then sewn into his scalp when he was created. Her bright pink gaze nearly spun into a crimson red pool of rage at the sight of him and her lips tightened as she clenched her teeth together, nearling grinding them.

Her nostrils flared before she loosened her jaw enough to allow herself to speak.
“I’m certain my entry way was locked. It’s improper to intrude on a lady’s place of business in such a manner. Now, I suppose if you’d like me to fit that lovely chest of yours for some sort of corset, I could arrange--”

He cut her off. He called her that name. She.

Lavinia folded her arms under her chest, straightening her back as she stood there listening to him prattle on about the doom and gloom along the countryside. She rolled her eyes off to the side, audibly groaning in the middle of his speech. She wondered if he’d been practicing it in his head the whole time he’d been out there waiting for her. It wouldn’t be like him to just stop and enjoy the lovely sounds of the day, or the fitting room, whichever.

“Right, okay.” Lavinia said with a sigh. “I’m really touched by that whole, you-talking-and-thinking-I-wanted-to-listen-to-you thing you were doing just then-- I’m not going with you.” she stated bluntly. With that, Lavinia turned on her heel and began walking toward the front door of her shop.

“Find yourself some other deity, Goldilocks. I’m not the She you’ve been looking for. You might find yourself a tasty little She after hours a few blocks down though--”

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas watched with amusement written on his face as Lavinia marched over to him, filled with fury. His joviality grew as her demeanor suddenly shifted when he referred to her as that name which humans had chosen to give her so long ago. However, when she began to roll her eyes, her fury began to mirror on his own visage, creases forming on his brow and lips as his deep blue eyes began to darken. Then, like a teenager rebelling against her parents, she retorted before spinning to walk away. His iris, then the whites of his eyes grew as dark as the abyss and small tendrils of inky shadow webbed in all directions from the edges of his eyes. Her smugness hadn't earned her the chuckle she might have been going for as he turned to face her.

Suddenly, her retreat was cut off as Rasalas appeared before her with his ability to jump short distances, a visage of raging power. One hand clasped her shoulder and the other gripped her chin and jaw in his unnaturally strong fingers. He her towards the wall, her boots grinding against the floor before he pinned her against it before lifting her just enough that the tips of her toes barely graced the ground. "Now you listen, and you listen good, you pompous shit! These people have fed you adulation for your entire existence and you repay them by disappearing for 6 centuries? Not really a big deal, but now that the prophecy is coming to pass, you refuse to aid them?" his voice was a hiss, head cocked to the side as he grinned sadistically. "Do you want them all to die? Because I can arrange that..." his voice distorted deeply with his final sentence and she could feel that absent horror which he represented bubbling underneath the surface, the all consuming void which had brought them forth in the first place.

As he held onto her, he kept his face directly in front of hers, his glare piercing into the pink hues of her. Such softness which belied her true nature, he thought. His breathing came as slow, guttural growls which seemed to magnify with every breath until the sound appeared to be sourceless. "It would be so easy for it all to come to an end. Is that what you wish, Lavinia? We could rule over the vast nothing. There would be no color, no art, no culture, no avarice, no violence, no anguish. There would only be a sublime finality, unchanging and utterly complete in its emptiness," his voice was resonating within itself, distorted like a twisted echo. His features were twisted into a demented version of a grin as darkness spread a little further away from his face.

Around them the world darkened and seemed to just fall away, fading into muted colors before collapsing into dust, silently. Her breath would catch in her chest as she felt the crushing force of the void around her, all the while he seemed to be reveling in the sensation. Soon, nothing but inky darkness surrounded them and his face was disjointed, like some sort of eldritch horror. His mouth opened and instead of teeth, there was only another abyss. His jaw separated, spreading wider and wider as the only noise she could hear was her own heartbeat thundering in her ears along with a growing, high-pitched whine. The widening maw wrapped around her suddenly, enclosing her in a more complete darkness, totally alone.

Then, without warning, the world appeared again as he dropped her back down to the ground and stepped away, inhaling deeply through his nostrils as the shadows flowed back towards his eyes. Slowly pulling back, the darkness concentrated into his pupils before vanishing as if washed down a drain. He straightened his coat a little and adjusted his collar as he cleared his throat, taking on a more composed demeanor. "I hope you understand that I'm not just going to let this go," his voice had reverted back to its normal state and his eyes focused upon her with scrutiny. "If I have to leash you and pull you around myself, well, let's just say I'll enjoy it more than you," he said with a low chuckle as he glared down at her.

It was around this time that he noticed the glittering colors around her eyes and he let out a light rush of air through his flaring nostrils. "You posture like you don't want to see me and yet you wear the colors of my adornments?" he prodded as he gestured to his buttons and eyes, his grin growing a little further. He continued, "Although, I suppose it does match the attire...Which suspiciously compliments mine. Are you certain you didn't anticipate my arrival? You seem far too frustrated after having just released so much energy. Have you been wound with anxiety as you felt my inexorable approach?"

 

[Jumbled]

She. Lavinia had reservations about that prophecy from long ago. She unclenched the fist she still held tightly to wiggle her fingers around. Nothing. She didn’t have power left; it had gone long ago. The more she had given to the human world, the more her Godliness had been depleted throughout time. As far as she could tell, she was a human herself. Her long lifespan and unaging skin were possibly the only things she had left from her mighty days of She. There was a big black spot in her mind from when she last had access to her powers. Something had happened to her but her memory was so hazy. The biggest clues often hid within the depths of her mind, only surfacing in her dreams.

Lavinia marched to the door. She had to get away from Rasalas. He wanted things she couldn’t deliver. Unless the prophecy meant She was expected to sacrifice her very being so that the world would be saved, there wasn’t anything she could do. Soothsayers had a knack for saying only enough to cause problems for anyone involved. She wasn’t sure that The Traveller, also known as the impending doom, was even going to bother making contact with the world. He wasn’t exactly known for world-destroying.

Only steps away from the door, Lavinia was startled as Rasalas appeared in front of her. ‘Right, he can still do that,’ she thought. It was suddenly very clear as to how he’d been standing in her store without using the door. It had been too long since she’d seen someone with Godly abilities. Rasalas was typically the loner, too, she thought. Maybe she wasn’t remembering properly. It had been a long time and he was quick to remind her of such things.

His hand reached for her face, and even though she flinched backward, his grasp still found her. He moved with precision, as if he factored in her reaction to him before she’d even had it. With a vice grip, Rasalas held her chin and jaw, pushing her backwards. Her hands swiftly flew to the hand that imprisoned her face as frantic fingers wrapped around his wrist. She tugged and pulled at him with fingernails pressing into his flesh. Her boots scraped against the ground as he trailed along with her with his forceful stride. She tried several times to correct her footing so that she might stand and fight him, but he was too powerful, and her feet threatened to roll an ankle if she continued to fight against his direction. Her eyes were filled with murderous rage; it was the only way she could convey her feelings properly since he’d nutrilized her ability to speak. What was his problem? Her back connected to the wall behind her and her grip tightened even more as she was lifted off of the ground to dangle her toes just above the floor.

"Now you listen, and you listen good, you pompous shit! These people have fed you adulation for your entire existence and you repay them by disappearing for 6 centuries? Not really a big deal, but now that the prophecy is coming to pass, you refuse to aid them?" he said to her.

Her breathing was staggered; the fear was starting to seep through. Rasalas could have such an effect on both people and gods alike. She would have defended herself if she could. She would have asked him why he couldn’t have been bothered to look for her in all of that time. He tilted his head as his eyes hinted at a sick, sadistic nature he hid within him. His twisted smile sent chills down her spine. He looked as though he was going to devour her. "Do you want them all to die? Because I can arrange that..." he continued. He wouldn’t stop staring at her. His once crystal blue eyes bled out into inky shadows that turned his gaze black. The darkness spread throughout the room. Lavinia couldn’t be certain if this was due to losing vision from the strain on her face and the overall panic, or if Rasalas was using his warfare tactics against her.

His face began to twist and warp. The horror she felt was so real. This was indeed a tactic Rasalas was rumored to use, though she had never personally experienced it until then. She whimpered and struggled harder against his hand, trying to break free. Her dangling feet lifted, trying to kick against him. She attempted to use the wall as a brace so that she might push him away hard enough for him to lose his grip on her, or to break the nightmare, but as she curled her body up to do so, she could no longer feel the wall behind her. There was nothing. Her eyes darted around left to right. Particles of gray ash floated lazily in the air. He opened his mouth, it unhinged like a demon snake that widened and, as she feared earlier, he swallowed her whole.

Her ears began to ring as she could feel the throbbing of her heart from every part of her body. Her head was pounding and the only sound available for her to focus on was her intensely beating pulse. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t.

Her body, as he held her, grew limp and she released her hold of his wrist. Her feet dropped limply back down to dangle above the ground. He let her go. She was back in her shop, away from the horrors of his forced illusions. Lavinia slumped back against the wall, her eyes void of all emotion. She looked like a husk of a woman at that moment. Her soul may have actually abandoned her body. He began to speak to her, his voice returning to the cool and collected nature as he straightened out his attire, not wanting even a single hair out of place.

She listened to him, though her mind still spiraled, trying to get through the trauma of the darkness. He poked fun at her choice of colors and her overall attire, then mentioned her previous activities. What business was it of his, anyway? She dropped her head. Her hair fell forward, covering the sides of her face, hiding her from him.

“You’re so mean, Rasalas.” she said, her voice cracking with warning signs of tears to come. She slid down the wall with her arms clutching her knees and her head resting upon them lightly. She looked through the space where her knees didn’t meet, noting the lines on the floor from where her boots had scraped it.

“Did you just intend to show up and take me away from here? What is your plan, then? How do you want me to fight the cosmic God? Shall I go up there and offer him a plate of cheese, then ask him not to pummel the humans?” she lifted her head enough to look back up at him with watery eyes. “Regardless of what some soothsayer has claimed I can do, there was no booklet with instructions left for me. They might have meant “she” in the simple sense of a pronoun.”

Lavinia lowered her hands to the ground and pushed herself up off of the ground. Her legs trembled as she stood and she stared at Rasalas. Emotion had all but left her face as she met his eyes with her own. Her stare might have turned him to stone if she had possessed such a power.

“So, fine. If you don’t intend to go away on your own then I suppose I don’t have a choice.” she told him. Her voice was also flat void of emotions.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas felt the terror building within Lavinia, a sweet and exposing emotion that tasted so delicious to that darker nature within him. She fought against him, but she was weak and slow. Confusing to him, though his rage didn't allow him to think further of it as he pushed and tortured the powerless Goddess without thought. It was at the moment when she wanted to scream but couldn't that he realized something was deeply wrong. After he'd composed himself and gazed upon her, he could feel a deep wound in him as a horrible realization had come across him.

~Why didn't she defend herself? Has she no power anymore? Is this why she hides?~ his mind was a blur of thoughts and he watched her as she tried to compose herself. Something caught his eye upon the back of her neck; a little pattern -- perhaps a tattoo? -- appeared briefly before his eyes. She scolded his behavior, though her voice wavered with fear and the threat of sobs rather than resonating with anger. She continued to chastise him and question his motivation, looking up to him with the evidence of her condition drawn from her eyes. His face fell sullen and he strode smoothly over towards her as she stood, a complex weave of emotions swimming in his eyes. Regret, sorrow, frustration, confusion, and deep-seated pain.

"I came here to help you...I-I didn't realize you had...I wouldn't have..." he spoke in a much softer tone than he had earlier, his voice subtly warm as he reached towards her. Fingertips brushed against her shoulders, then slipped around her back and one down to her lower back as he pulled her forward. If she'd resisted strongly, his advance would have ceased, but she just stood there as he brought her against his strong frame and squeezed her against him in a comforting manner. His hand reached up into her hair and traced along the back of her skull and then along her neck, feeling the area where he'd noticed the pattern he'd seen. With his other hand, he dug his fingers a bit into her lower back firmly as if to reinforce his embrace with her.

"I'm so very sorry, Lavinia. I would not have been so abrupt if I knew you didn't have any powers. I thought you were just avoiding things," his voice cracked a little, uncharacteristic of him as she knew. "What did they do to you? And do you know how long it's been since you were last able to perform any Miracles?" he questioned her, using the name for their abilities that the humans had given in their ignorance. "You needn't fight the Great Traveller. A cosmic god who doesn't bother himself with the trivialities which we who walk among the humans do. I don't think his presence is anything other than a portent of things to come, not things which he will do."

His fingers brushed along her neck and through her pristinely white locks, passing under her ear before tracing an almost intimate path along her jawline and he gripped her chin in a much more subtle way than he'd previously done. Lifting her eyes to meet his, his blue hues were wracked with guilt. It didn't seem proportional to what he'd done, however, seeming to extend to some other indiscretion which had remained to be revealed. He closed his eyes slowly and placed his forehead against hers and suddenly, her mind was taken by a very different vision.

Suddenly, she found herself in a different sort of abyss, one which was filled with prismatic fog which shimmered in the distance, far away from what appeared to be the focal point of this area. Within a cage made of ethereal force that glittered with every color of existence, she could see Rasalas. He looked like a wild animal, stripped half-naked with bloodied hands, feet, elbows, and knees. Blood even dripped from his forehead, and soon it became apparent why. Much like a caged beast, he threw himself against the force which held him at bay, punching, and kicking and screaming out silently as the energy merely pulsed at each of his strikes. Each one pushed him away and inflicted more damage, gouging him to the bone before his healing factor could mend the damage. Each time, he only rested long enough for the wounds to nearly close before redoubling his efforts.


He languished for six centuries there and spent every minute fighting it. She experienced it all at once, with the emotion dulled to not overload her senses. At the end of the vision, she watched as suddenly he was dumped in the middle of the Frozen Wastes far to the north, away from all civilization. Confused and dazed, she watched as an invisible thread leaped from him and hurtled through the air as if possessing its own will. Her vision followed the thread as it hurtled towards Moritaria and thrust through walls and buildings to come to a stop the moment it made contact with her.

She had been the first thing he thought of when he returned and his first order of business was to find her. He'd no idea what had transpired while he was gone and his first feeling was of concern for her. Though, as he made his journey, he'd heard whispers which lead to him feeling frustrated and upset with her. 'She's disappeared!' 'No one's seen her for centuries!' 'She's abandoned us!' Everything he'd heard made him think she'd had a role to play in his banishment. Maybe she'd gotten tired of the push and pull which had been the quintessential description of their relationship.

Her connection with him faded as he opened his eyes and continued to hold her in order to support her. That instantaneous form of communication took a toll upon the receiver and he wasn't sure how strongly she'd react to it. "I never wanted to stray for so long. I haven't any notion of who imprisoned me or why, but I suspect it may have something to do with why you've lost your capabilities," he spoke with evident regret and displeasure in his voice, and his fingers gently traced her chin as he supported her head. Leaning towards her, he placed his lips against her forehead and gave her a soft kiss. It seemed like an almost protective gesture, as though he were trying to reassure her of his intent.

Remembering the pattern on her neck, he tilted his head a little. "Since when were you into body modification, by the way? Did you get a tattoo because you missed me so much? Is that why you've been trying to fill the void with human conquests?" his voice returned to a bit of a playful, jesting quality as he started to slowly release his hold on her. He felt she should be able to stand on her own two feet by now though if she faltered, he was ready to grab her once again.

 

[Jumbled]

Lavinia flinched, her torso moving to the side, as Rasalas lightly touched her shoulder. She didn’t want to be mentally attacked again. In her mightier days, she would have given him a run for his money, but things just weren’t the same any more. But, his words were filled with that of befuddlement. He stammered with a tone very unlike his normal one. She glanced up at him as his fingers gently graced her skin. In movements of pure finesse, Rasalas had his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close in an attempt to comfort her. Had he not just assaulted, she might have enjoyed it more.

She stood against him like a lifeless doll. Her arms hung limply at her sides, not attempting to reciprocate the hug. She didn’t mind the cool temperature that surged off of his form, complimenting her polar opposite warmth and light she usually radiated. His fingers lightly tickled the back of her neck then up into her hair. Her day might have gone better if this pampering had come from Fittingroom Girl #107, instead. She just wanted to have a little bit of fun. Instead she was eaten alive.

He apologized and she huffed grumpily. Avoiding things? What exactly did he think of her? She groaned and pulled away from him, though not enough for him to stop playing in her hair. The wall was still blocking her way out at any rate. He flooded her with questions; questions she didn’t know how to answer.

“--What they did? Who do you mean? I just over spent my abilities and the world took my magic. That’s all. I’ve been stuck here. Alone.” she looked up and offered him an accusatory glance. “I’m incredibly offended to hear how you really think of me: some girl that avoids things. Then again, I suppose it’s rather spot on. So fine,” she said as she looked down and off to the side. She was embarrassed at the state of herself, though not at her sexuality or anything he might have thought regarding her earlier activities.

Lavinia considered his words on the prophecy. She always thought it meant she had to fight. Any sort of mission to save a population typically involved a great battle or even war. It hadn’t crossed her mind that The Great Traveller wasn’t the actual enemy and just a sign of what was to come. Her features softened as she thought more on it. Was there something she could do for the people, then? She was quite limited in what she was capable of. How could she actually help?

His fingers ran along her jawline and back to the same spots he’d gripped before. She flinched from the tender areas being touched again so soon. “Ouch-- let go!” He’d tilted her face up, making her look him in the eyes again. He seemed miserable and she didn’t want to see his dumb, handsome face. Still, she didn’t struggle against him. That had already failed her once. She was at his mercy, it seemed.

Her mind entered his headspace. It was a radial view of some strange place she’d never been. Colors shimmered and faded into different ones. It was a pretty place, she thought. She braced herself for further punishment, but instead, found Rasalas caged and tearing his body apart in attempts to free himself. Perhaps it wasn’t as pretty as she’d first thought. What was he doing in a prison? Time moved as it did in dreams. She saw what spanned over a long period drawn out into several minutes. The vision faded to black only to pick up again where Rasalas was dropped onto the cold ground of the Frozen Wastes. Ironic, seeing as how she’d made that particular part of the world with him in mind; cold and unforgiving. Or at least, that’s what she always liked to tell him. He then traveled the world, chasing the beacon that would lead to She, the woman he sought. People this way and that spoke of She leaving; abandoning them. She sighed heavily. Lavinia had grown used to hearing people say things of that nature, it wasn’t the first time she’d ever heard it. The emotions in the vision weren’t the easiest to read, but she could swear she felt him grow cross with her as he continued on his journey in the vision. He believed them, then. That’s why he said he thought she was just avoiding things.

Lavinia was ready to leave the vision. She’d seen enough. As if he could hear her thoughts, once more she returned to her shop. She wobbled, her small frame growing fatigued from his continuous prodding of her mind. He explained his take on the situation and she found a little more strength in her legs. “I told you, whatever you’re thinking-- I don’t have the answers. I just gave too much and didn’t get anything back.”

He leaned in, kissing her forehead slowly. She closed her eyes. She appreciated his gesture, she just wasn’t in the proper mood for it. “I get it, you’re sorry. Stop already.” She placed her smaller hands against his chest, pushing him to move out of her way. She was feeling entirely too trapped. He humored her shove, moving out of her way, both of them knowing full well she would never have been able to move him on her own. His hands, however, still lightly held onto her arm in case she were to topple over. At the mention of a tattoo, Lavinia looked back at him with the most confused expression she’d probably ever given him. “What are you talking about?” She had never modified her body with tattoos before. She looked over her arms and legs, wondering what it was he thought he’d seen. He let go of her, finally, and she pulled her arm back, closer to her body.

The slight jingling of the door sounded and an older, regular customer peeked her head inside of the store. “The shop’s closed, Rita!” Lavinia shouted. The woman retreated and the door shut once more. Her boots clicked as she walked over to the door, trying her best to ignore the skid marks of her own feet along the ground as she did. Her hand hovered over the lock before she turned back to Rasalas once more.

“Are you intending to keep me here, or should we leave? Are you hungry or something?” she asked. If so, she’d go off with him and just lock up for the day.

 

[Vekraihr]

She offered a reason for her power to have waned and it wasn't an unreasonable assertion, either. A lot of her had gone into the formation of these lands and he predicted she may be able to get some of it back by communing with places where they'd tread the most heavily. He didn't think it'd be prudent to compound on the issue by repeatedly bringing it up and so he made a mental note to be a little more conscientious in the future. Her offense to him gave him pause once again, he hadn't meant to open so many wounds in such a short time. However, he understood the gravity of what he'd done to her just moments ago.

Rasalas could feel that he was pushing the line a little with her, especially with the kiss to her forehead. However, it didn't take long before she vocalized her displeasure with his attentiveness. "You're the one who leaned so heavily on the fact that you'd been left alone," he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes and a small grin. He straightened himself up and adjusted his coat and shirt a little bit before cracking his neck to each side. Something unpleasant had been stirred up within him and he didn't appreciate the feeling he'd gotten. As he could sense her desire to move away from him, he stepped with the shove and allowed her into the room beyond him to ease the apparent claustrophobia brewing within her.

~No tattoos, huh? Maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me. Could have sworn something was there, though.~ he thought as he scrutinized her with his gaze, though he tried to make it not apparent. He released her, seeming a little perplexed still but his demeanor started to shift back to normal. His spine straightened and his hands folded neatly to his sides as he took a deep breath through his nostrils. As the sound of the door rang through the shop, Rasalas turned his head to look at the woman before offering a small wave and chuckle. As the woman left, his focus turned back to Lavinia and a soft smile graced his features.

"How about we get some breakfast? I think we'll both feel better after we fill our bellies. Not that we really need to," he said cordially as he swiveled on his foot towards the door. Truly, they didn't need to eat but they did thoroughly enjoy it and would feel hunger if they went for a long while without food. Especially with some of the delicious foods humans decided to create. Their ingenuity truly knew no bounds. He began for the door, stopping at the threshold and he looked back at her. "Is there anything you would prefer to do before we go to eat? A change of clothes or perhaps to stab me a few times?" he offered, a large grin spreading over his face at the second suggestion as he tried to stifle his laughter. His joke was a little forced; humor certainly wasn't his strong suit.

Apparently, his suggestion brought up nothing as he nodded with affirmation and pushed the shop door open. Instantly, the welcoming cold greeted his face and he took a deep breath in and then out. For anyone watching, it might appear odd for his breath formed no mist because of his lower temperature. Once he heard her footsteps following behind, he made his way through the throngs towards the district which smelled of all the delicious breakfast foods. It was quite simple for him as people would sooner avert their eyes and avoid him the moment they witnessed him. It'd always been that way for him and the only person who'd ever looked at him with any consistency was Lavinia. He'd not dwelled on that fact for a while, and he dismissed the notion of it now. His path was true and his stride was long, his burly frame exuding a powerful swagger as he went onward.

On each side of them, buildings of varying materials rose to differing heights, some venting steam, and others venting smoke. Signs made with incandescent bulbs on display on the faces of shops, some advertising the names while some described the services rendered. Humans had changed quite a bit since last he'd been around. It didn't take long before they were entering into a courtyard of sorts, a large square with various stalls and tables set for the morning's meal. Rasalas scanned around to find a vendor who was selling the appropriate mixture of items, content to walk to the one across the square to procure their meals. Stepping around people with the grace and fluidity of someone who had been largely ignored for his existence, he came before a rather porcine looking gentleman who almost didn't wait on him before Rasalas' irritated clearing of his throat made it apparent he was there.

"A-Apologies, sir...W-what can I do for ya?" he asked as he strained to look anywhere but at the God before him. Beads of sweat began gathering on his forehead. He always made them uncomfortable when he spoke. Lavinia had taken care of most social matters on his behalf in the days of the past. His hand seemed to tremble as Rasalas gave him the list of what he desired, what essentially was a full breakfast, and a large mug of black coffee. "And, whatever this lovely lady desires," he said before stepping aside to allow Lavinia to order hers. "Of course, of course! And don't worry about the payment! It's on the house!" the man seemed a bit more jovial after speaking with her, but looked uneasily at the man with whom he'd first spoken. Rasalas had grown accustomed to the way things were so handily offered to him in order to facilitate his departure. Once their food had been prepared and served, Rasalas found a table that was a little out of the way and allowed him a full view of the courtyard with nothing but a wall behind him.

He stayed mostly silent as he ate his breakfast, his eyes occasionally lifting to peer around at the humans which bustled about around them. Soon after they'd begun eating, he overhead a nearby conversation start;

"So, I guess another one disappeared last night."
"Again? That makes four just this week."
"I know. It's been happening more often. People think it's that bleeding comet, but you know what I think? I think someone's kidnapping them."
"Shhhhh! Are you mad? You can't go around spouting that kind of nonsense here!"
"What? I'm just sayi--"
"Say no more! I know where you're going with it. You're truly mad, you know? Just drop it. Shame, all those people. There have even been kids, too. I can't believe it's just that many from our neighborhood."
"Yeah...Imagine, there are disappearances happening all over. Must be hundreds per week by now."

Rasalas kept a focused ear to the conversation as he continued to eat at a more deliberate pace. He took a long swig of his coffee before looking at Lavinia as the two who were talking moved out of earshot. "So, after this, we will go back to your home and you can do whatever you need to and prepare a bag. We're going to have an arduous road ahead of us and I don't want you miserable because you've not got the right clothes," he said with a half-smile before having a bite of sausage.

 

[Jumbled]

Lavinia stood between the doorway and the towering man with his fancy attire. She looked at her own clothing; she’d gone out wearing worse. She’d intentionally dressed to charm the dark vixen that had walked into her shop that day. Number 107 was a regular customer and they’d been eyeballing one another for weeks. Lavinia couldn’t wait any longer to snag her prize but then someone had to pop in and ruin her morning. So, breakfast was the least he could offer. Little did he know she needed to eat almost the same way the humans did-- another drawback of losing nearly all of her godly abilities. She wondered if she should tell Rasalas, thinking she might need to correct his statement, but she couldn’t bring herself to appear any weaker to him than she already seemed. It was troubling, starting as a powerful woman only to fall into the form of the very things she created. She still had the same charm she always possessed. People often couldn’t take their eyes off of her, like 107 for instance. It was the polar opposite for Rasalas. No one could stand to look at him. She wondered why. Then again, if he did to everyone what he’d just done to her moments ago-- Lavinia began to question what Rasalas did with his free time.

“You’d enjoy me stabbing you, I fear. That’s not the proper way to punish you. You’ll get yours once your guard is down. You’ll never see it coming.” she warned. Her tone was teasing and pleasant as she spoke, somehow making her words sound all the more worrisome, especially when she looked at him with the childlike smile she offered.

Lavinia had moved off to the side to grab a coat. Although her body still held an abnormal amount of heat for a typical person, it was easily stolen by the harsh winds of the season. The pillar had already gone and opened the door before she could even get fully zipped up in her coat, however, and she suffered for it. She shivered quickly, hugging her coat closer to her body. She hoped he hadn’t seen; he had been looking the other way but there were always those rumors of him having eyes on the back of his head. She squinted into his golden strands of deceit and betrayal finding no hidden eyes.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk and she followed after him, removing a large key from her coat pocket and turning the lock to shut it down. The large bulbs of warm yellow light that bordered the exterior of the building flickered for a moment before fading. She glanced up with a feeling of loss, like it might be the last time she saw her little shop lit up on the avenue. Was Rasalas going to take her away? She turned around and took several steps toward him. As if he was watching her-- with those hidden eyes-- he started to move forward. If only to humor herself, she continued to watch the back of his head. Her games were interrupted by the gasps and jerking of arms to pull children off the path of the God that walked amongst them. Humans feared death. They were only meant to have an understanding of how valuable life was so that they could live to their fullest potential. If they over-breed themselves into such tight living spaces they wouldn’t have needed such short life spans in the first place. So needy.

Lavinia walked with her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat. She focused on whatever warmth of the fabric she could manage to find and not the brisk air hitting her legs with every step. She should have changed. Upon entering the courtyard, Lavinia inhaled deeply. Food could always take her attention from her other problems. Cold? What cold? There was bacon somewhere. She could smell it. But, even more important than that, coffee. No matter the times, the classics were always around, even with fun twists to them. Rasalas had made a beeline for the stall across the way, Harrid’s from the looks of it. Lavinia, on the other hand, was fully distracted as she ran from one stall to another, saying her hellos and catching up with the locals she’d known so well. She was quick with her time, and as Rasalas gestured to her, she looked up at him with a cup of coffee in on hand while the same arm clutched another against her chest, her second hand too full of pastry to be able to hold anything more.

“Harrid! Are you cold today? I’ll have the usual. You’d better throw in some extra scones, too. He’s so moody today, that’ll cheer him right up.” Lavinia spoke in sweet tones with joy and laughter in her voice. It was like she was a completely different person. As she sat down, the smile she’d had plastered on her face faded to a more relaxed look and she sipped at the metallic straw that plunged into her iced coffee. She sat there quietly, growing only colder from her beverage choice as she made herself shiver more, enjoying the sweetened taste of vanilla on her tongue. Plates arrived. Lavinia nodded and smiled, turning her act back on for only as long as she needed to before slipping back into half closed eyes and a relaxed mouth.

Rasalas didn’t talk much, and she eventually took to eating her food. She had found the sweet treats she loved and bacon was hot and calling her name on the plate in front of her. She looked up to watch where his attention would go off to, following his eyes to where ever she saw them land. Eventually they picked up on part of a conversation. What could have been typical town gossip turned into hushed tones and lecturing, making the entire thing sound suspicious. Lavinia turned to get a better look at the folks that were talking but they’d moved too far off for her to be able to see or hear them anymore.

Rasalas then spoke of his inevitable plan to her. So he did intend to take her away. She looked just beyond the food courtyard to where her apartment building was. It wasn’t glorious by any means but it was conveniently placed near the middle of all the things she preferred to stay near.
“Right, we’ll go and do whatever it is you want. You know I’ll be of no help to you.” she reminded him. It was frustrating, she thought. He was still big and mighty, lacking the many new problems she’d accumulated over time. Lavinia gathered up whatever leftover foods they hadn’t eaten, placing their packages in a bag that she held in her hand. She then slowly lead Goldilocks over to where she lived, swinging the bag lightly back and forth as she walked.

“What do you care if this world ends, anyway? Not everything has to last.” she said suddenly. Her words sounded grim, completely opposite of how she’d sounded when collecting her free foods. “You don’t have to stay here. You can make your own world. I know you know how. So what does it matter?” she asked. They were nearing the front door. She pulled out the same key that she’d used for the shop, twisting it slightly at the top. The key rotated and reshaped to a new setting with tiny sounds of gears and clicks as it did. She fit the newly formed key into the door and waited for him to pass.
“Third floor. The stairwell is just to the right.” she told him. Lavinia had no intention of getting stuck in an elevator with him.

As they finished climbing the stairs that wrapped around to the third story, Lavinia took him to the door marked 34 and let him inside with the same key, altered again. She placed her bag of goodies on her counter and rustled through them, finding a scone in which she’d quickly stuck in her mouth. She took small bites of the treat, sitting on her fat, cushiony chair as she did. Most of her apartment was colored in grays and soft purples as brass pipes cut through the softer colors with it added shine and texture. She hadn’t bothered to remove her coat and pulled her legs up under it as she sat on the chair. “You’ve gotta have one of these,” she told him in between bites. She was only delaying him for small bouts of time, she realized. But even so-- Lavinia looked up at Rasalas as if she was studying him.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas grinned at the taunt which came his way, looking back towards Lavinia briefly to reply in kind, "Good. I love a surprise. Nothing is better than the unknown." Her innocent appearance only lent further to his amusement and she saw a genuine grin spread across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes slightly. He couldn't help but notice that she was cold, shivering even when they began their journey outdoors. Quite unusual for her, though he opted not to put too much stock into it. Perhaps it was all an act to reinforce her disguise as a human lady. Quite effective, he thought. Rasalas felt the reticence surge through Lavinia as she locked up her shop and it gave him pause for a moment before pushing the thoughts away from his head. There were more important matters than either of their feelings at play here.

He was more than intrigued by her demeanor shift when she was interacting with these people. They seemed to be enthralled by her which was perfectly understandable. She was the epitome of beauty and liveliness when she was speaking, though when she felt the attention had ceased, she dimmed a little. He considered how exhausting it must be to behave in such an inconsistent manner. Rasalas tilted his head as he looked at the coffee beverage she had, served cold with shards of ice within. Humans had evolved oddly over the years, for certain. He took another swig of his steaming hot, black coffee and gave a slight bit of an exaggerated sigh.

Her melodrama reminded him of a teenager being made to do something they didn't want to. Constantly reminding the authority figure of their displeasure while begrudgingly continuing with whatever task. He grinned at the anecdote and shook his head slowly. "I don't need you to be useful to me. I need you to be useful to you and them," he said pointedly as he'd finished clearing his plate and began to pick his teeth with a silver spike which seemed to appear out of the ether. "You know, I would have thought you'd become less impertinent as time marched onwards, but you've only become an increasing pain in my arse," he ribbed her with a good-natured jab, the tone of his voice spirited and mild. Soon enough, they journeyed towards her home off beyond the other end of the courtyard from where they'd entered.

Rasalas seemed content enough to follow as she led him along the bustling streets. Her next statement darkened his gaze a little and his expression turned dour as a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But, I can't create. You should know that. I'm an engine of destruction and entropy. All I can create are hollow voids. I can leave. Or not, I don't need to. I think the better question is, why don't you care? I care because I thought you might pine over the loss of your precious humanity with all their quirks and perturbations. They made things interesting, you said. You didn't enjoy the uniformity of the void," he almost sounded hurt by some emotional account, though it was subtle and easy to miss as his gaze seemed to be far afield. As the door swung open, Rasalas stepped within before looking back at her, his gaze still darker and lacking vibrancy. As they came to the stairwell, Rasalas watched her begin to climb before appearing next to her at the landing. Each time, he refused to climb the steps and instead appeared unsettlingly close to her. His blues had begun to light up with mischief as he behaved so. It didn't seem like negativity weighed on him for too long.

"Handy tool, that key," he remarked on its everchanging nature and he had to hand it to the humans for their ingenuity. As he entered her home, he took a slow gaze around to get a feeling for her aesthetic before adjusting his coat. Uncharacteristically, he went to the bag of food and withdrew a particularly lovely smelling scone from within. As he took the first bite, he closed his eyes and chewed deliberately before swallowing and nodding. A sweet, tart berry within a deliciously buttery and slightly sweet pastry. "These are quite delicious," he agreed.

He could see through the laughably transparent attempt to draw out the time she remained here and part of him wanted to humor it, for her sake. Regardless of how he behaved outwardly, he did hold an admiration for her to some degree or another. "Listen...if you need to take an hour or two -- or half the day, even -- then I will acquiesce. Whatever helps you...deal best with this mentally is fine by me. Just know I'm not doing this to torture you or harm you. I'll be along with you at every step and misstep. I'll catch you if you stumble and I'll take the hits so you don't have to. But, I need you to learn and rediscover yourself. If I have to drag you along for the ride, so be it, but I'm not going to abandon you, either," he paused a couple of times as he searched for the words, though in the end, he seemed to find a rhythm as he spoke quite possibly more sincerely than she'd ever heard from him. He truly felt it as well. Despite their obvious differences and their sometimes contentious behavior towards one another, his desire extended beyond himself. Such empathy hadn't been displayed from him in her memory, and it begged the question as to what exactly happened to him while he was imprisoned.

As he ate the scone she'd offered so graciously, he slowly paced about the room and took in the minutia of her decor. She would find him occasionally looking to her as well, as if appraising her to some level, before returning his attention to the various trinkets and baubles abound. "I suppose I could help you pack," he stated without warning, walking down the hallway towards a series of doors. One had to be her bedroom, he was certain, and he began to open each of the doors until his destination was found. As he entered her bed chamber with little regard or concern for her privacy, he began to look about through her things until he'd found a pack large enough to fit several changes of clothes and maybe a few other things which would benefit her to have.

Going through her clothing, he began to pick out surprisingly well-matched outfits that combined form and function and seemed viable for multiple different climates. Though, he didn't seem to pack away anything which was meant for protection or defense. In his mind, she was still a Goddess and wouldn't need anything which would hinder her resplendent form. He picked things that matched her tastes well. After all, who'd truly known her the longest and most intimately? He began to think of the things which a girl might like to have with her for a journey. Perhaps pleasant-smelling soaps to relive some of the comforts of home? Maybe a perfume she favored? He wondered if she had an object she treasured above all the others. He scanned around the room and noticed a fairly innocuous-looking figurine and, with a smile, placed it at the top of the pack on the top of her covers.

Rasalas considered himself having gone through her clothing fairly well, even certain to pack the unmentionables which would best fit with the outfits that he'd chosen while remaining utility enough to hold up to the adventure. He stepped out from the bedroom, leaving the bag upon her bed and opened for her to appraise. "I've taken the liberty of sorting through your clothing. You can check how I did, but I think I've hit the mark pretty well," he said with a confident if not arrogant air about him. "I didn't want to pack any of your soaps or shampoos, since I presumed you'd enjoy a bath before we left. Or a shower, as I've come to discover the humans have invented," he seemed as though he would be as patient as she needed him to be, for now.

 

[Jumbled]

As Rasalas questioned why she didn’t care, she looked back to him with eyes wide open, big and shining from what could have been the oncoming of tears. “Oh, Rasalas. It’s not that I don’t care. I just don’t imagine I’ll survive it.” she told him. It might have been a hard truth for him to hear. She was barely a God. The idea of her world getting destroyed and the captain going down with the ship was something Lavinia had come to terms with decades ago. She didn’t have access to her mighty, world altering powers. She was weak, hungry and cold-- often. Her hands were shoved in her jacket pockets as the bag of foods swayed on her arm, hitting against her thigh in a constant rhythm with her steps. She pulled her arms closer to her body, exhaling a breath that visibly painted the air.

Lavinia climbed every tedious stair as any person would. She carried her bag in one hand with the other gripping onto the railing, trying not to fall back every time Rasalas startled her with his teleporting. At the last step, she nearly held her foot out to trip him and send him tumbling down. “Cut it out. Someone’s going to see you,” she hissed at him. It wasn’t actually her primary concern with him. More than anything, she was irritated that he hadn’t offered to help her carry her bag, or even teleport her with him. She couldn’t tell him that, though. Upon him mentioning the key, she nodded. “Yeah, they have things similar, but this is actually one of my own trinkets. I can open any door. Very handy.” she told him. A goddess needed her tools. She had made it long ago, but figured the models they used in their current era were somehow related to hers.

When Rasalas actually helped himself to a scone Lavinia’s eyes actually widened with shock. She couldn’t believe he’d actually indulged her with such a thing. She continued to take small bites of her own scone as she shifted, pulling a plush gray blanket over her body. She watched him, pacing about the room, staring at the random things she had collected over time. What could he possibly be thinking? He looked as though he was restless and wanted to keep busy. Perhaps she didn’t miss all of that energy. He mentioned packing and she waved a hand at him, motioning as if she were trying to push him down the hall to make him go away. She was tired. Her eyes were growing heavy after their meal and walk.

Lavinia jumped up frantically out of her seat as Rasalas came out of her room after packing. She didn’t know what he had said, or how long he had been gone. She must have fallen asleep. She really wasn’t used to having anyone inside of her home, either. She rubbed her face with a hand, groaning as she combed her hair back with her fingers. “For the love of She, Ras.” she said, using her own name in vain the way most mortals did.

 

[Vekraihr]

Her words and near tears moved the God to think more seriously about her predicament. Truly, could she have fallen so far as to barely be greater than a human? Surely her divinity still touched her in some way. He would help her reclaim it and things would be right again, balance restored and order regained. He couldn't relate to such struggles and was having difficulty coming to terms with the thought of her being this...whatever she was. It didn't even cross his mind to offer to take her things or to offer her aid. Such things hadn't ever been required before and weren't present in any of their previous interaction. However, at the door, she pointed out the invention wasn't the humans, but rather her own making. He gave an impressed nod once again and looked at her with respectful admiration, "Well, I suppose the goddess of creation should be inventive."

Rasalas had been gone only about a quarter of an hour, if even for that long. What met him as he returned to the living room was not something he'd have ever expected. Her fright at him returning and the very obvious signs of sleep on her face, as well as her demeanor, informed him well of her condition. Disbelief pulled his lips toward a small frown and then he groaned as she took her own name in vain. "I didn't realize the...severity...of your condition," he chose his words carefully, his disbelief still plainly drawn across his face. He'd never needed to sleep a moment, and neither had She from when he remembered her. ~She has given far too much, it would seem.~ his thoughts crystallized on this revelation as his brow furrowed.

"I...You...You seem drained. It'd be useless to try and go anywhere with you dragging as such. Rest as you need and then I suppose you can shower and then we can depart, Lavinia," his tone almost seemed reserved, as if there were other things he wished to say but couldn't find the words. Or rather, wasn't willing to speak them. He wanted to lambast her for being so reckless. Chide her for choosing to give up too many pieces. Scold her for taking away the only companion who truly understood him. Every time she created something, a rift had deepened between them, and, for a long time, he'd been blissfully unaware. Now, it was far too great to ignore. He almost felt childish for the contempt welling just beneath his collected, serene exterior.

"I will find something to keep me occupied," he said with preemptive dismissal, hoping to stymie any inquiry further as he wished to take a moment to reflect. Rasalas took stock of his surroundings for a moment before finding himself a comfortable place to sit. Legs folded, one over the other, and drawn in close to the body. Slowly, he closed his own eyes for a moment of brief reprieve, to focus his thoughts, and project himself into the Astral Sea for some well-deserved personal time as she rested.

 

[Jumbled]

Lavinia frowned at Rasalas, her eyes narrowing at his choice of words. She could feel the weight of his judgements bearing down on her. He dismissed her, telling her to go rest, and she couldn’t help but somehow feel wounded by his words. “Yeah, okay.” she said. Her words were conflicted, starting with aggression and ending with defeat. She wasn’t in denial, but the sight of Ras in his godly state with his phenomenal powers, very much intact, were tugging at her emotions. Being comparable to a human while around humans was fine. She still felt the smallest touch of power in knowing what they didn’t; in being just a hint more than what they were. Being so weak in the eyes of someone like Ras, a divine being with unimaginable powers, it was gut wrenching.

She cleared her throat softly before walking past him, down to her bedroom door, pushing it forward only to discover the bag he’d been packing. He was so determined to get going, but had finally taken pause. At least now he understood what she had been trying to tell him before. She sat on the bed, reaching down to unzip her boots, kicking them off one at a time with small little thuds on the floor as they tumbled over. She then glanced at the bag again, lifting some of the layers to see what lay beneath, curious about his current tastes in what he thought she should be wearing. She chuckled under her breath. Mister Fancy Clothes had matched every outfit down to the bra and panty. He would disapprove of her current choices. She’d been wearing a bright pink bra and not really anything underneath the dress other than the stockings. She sighed, remembering her grand plans for her encounter that morning. “What a shame.” she said as she stood up.

She began to undress, though the clothing of the era was far more complicated than she enjoyed. It could take hours to get ready depending on how much effort she intended to put into her choices. Her fingers worked steadily as she very patiently unlaced her corset, breathing deeply as she uncaged her ribs from the beautiful prison that had encased her torso. She threw the things about in an untidy manner, opposite of Rasalas’ obsessive nature to have everything in its place. Creative types were just messier, that’s what she would always tell him. The dress was next to go as it slid down, away from her shoulders. She pulled at the fabric, inching it down every curve of her form until it landed around her ankles in a pile of ruffles.

With legs dressed in wide black netting, she stepped away from the bed. Her hands were quick to remove the hooks of her bra. It was silly how so much time had passed in their world and even so, no human had invented a more comfortable set of straps to hold up one’s chest yet. With a toss, a streak of bright pink flew off toward the bed behind her. Lavinia stretched her arms up toward the ceiling, her fingers curling into loose fists as she slowly brought them back down. Her arms then dropped lightly over her head until she ran her fingers down through her hair. She fluffed it up, sweeping it all over to one side, then ventured out of her door to wander toward the bathroom. She gave no thought as to whether or not Rasalas could see her. She really didn’t care about her nudity the way humans did. And she certainly didn’t mind being admired, even if he was disappointed with her overall state. It was possibly he’d find her repulsive, anyway. He didn’t seem to like the humans as a collection.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas felt the pressure bearing down on her from his words and his lips pulled into a tighter frown. He didn't enjoy feeling the way he did, either, but he'd rather her know him than be left guessing or incorrect. Under the surface, her emotions were kettling in a way that felt more human than divine and his expression softened slightly. Maybe he should take it a little easier on her, he thought. However, he didn't entertain the thought for long as she walked away and retreated into her room.

He heard the light chuckle even from the living room and he gave a small grin in response. At least he'd given her that. Finding it difficult to focus enough to manage any sort of projection, Rasalas opened his eyes once again and began to look about the room. He noticed, against the wall, a device with a glass panel, opaque and gray, bordered by polished silvery metal and held by a wooden box. Next to the glass, a few knobs of similarly polished metal gleamed and caught his eye briefly. ~What a curious contraption,~ he thought to himself. He'd seen a few of these devices as he'd traveled, trying to remember the name for them as he glanced down the hall. She'd been in her room for a moment, now. Perhaps she was preparing herself for a rest.

As a child might, Rasalas began to tentatively experiment with the set, adjusting the knobs from and back to their original positions. After a moment, he'd gotten the television screen to turn on and he looked at it with intrigue as he narrowed his eyes at the electronic display. A low hum emanated from the device, the electromagnetic frequencies tickling the air into a buzz. Trying another knob, he saw that he could change the images being shown, and, with a turn of the other, sounds began to come from a series of small holes drilled within the wood. It sounded a little hollow and brassy, but it gave it a sort of warm charm.

Rasalas changed the station until he reached a program that spoke of human affairs and various goings-on. The news, they called it. Despite her view of him, Rasalas was determined to learn more about what had happened while he was gone and he presumed this might be the best way to learn. He could just absorb peoples' memories and learn that way, but such a process was painful for the unwilling and most participants were unwilling due to his effect on the mortal psyche. He looked curiously at the screen as some process was described, machinery with vicious needles in a pattern; large in the center, and ringed with smaller flechettes. A voice spoke of a procedure in which bodily modification was made possible through minor alterations to the physical structure of the body. Quite an involved procedure, he thought.

Footsteps echoed from down the hall and his eyes darted towards the noise. He couldn't stop himself from noticing Lavinia's form, still as divine and feminine as the day they came to be. Her skin was soft and pale, irresistible to mortal eyes and alluring even to the divine. Curves accented her figure in all the ways men desired, even Gods. However, his expression remained blank as he looked at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his approval. He didn't know why, but he still felt the peculiar desire to spite her for what she'd done to herself. Rasalas drank in her form, obviously ignited by the display as a sadistic grin spread across his visage. She deserved punishment, and not the variety he'd delivered earlier. Such was child's play to what he was considering as retribution for her robbing him of his divine companion.

She felt the invasion of his mind, forceful and complete, as he exerted his will to stop her in the hallway as he rose to face her. "You think you can just walk away from me when you look so appetizing?" his voice was dark and heavy, though not quite as distorted as earlier. However, the edges of her vision were beginning to crumble away into darkness as the god strode towards her. Fear heightened the nerves. He knew this from countless experiences and she was in no position to feel safe from his wrath. She could do nothing as she watched him approach, his hands grabbing hold of the chest of his immaculate shirt and ripped it and the coat in twain, both pieces crumbling to dust in his fingers. His upper body might as well be carved from marble, he was so exquisitely built and fair. A singular strip of hair of deep blonde strode the line of his abdominal muscles and disappeared into the waist of his pants, which she could see were already bulging with his quickly erecting godhood. His shoes seemed to just disappear unceremoniously as his fingers undid the buttons of his slacks. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down, freeing him with a spring from his fabric prison. His lower body was proportioned well to the upper and his endowment would be the envy of many men and some beasts.

An outstretched hand brushed against her cheek, traced down her neck, and outlined the curves she seemed so proud to display. 'Mmmmm,' he growled approvingly as he looked at her, his hues darkened and filled with a mixture of fury and lust. Just the edges of her vision remained encroached upon by the impinging shadows which threatened to swallow her should she gaze too deep. He grabbed hold of a large bundle of her hair in his fingers and tugged her gaze up to meet his, his chiseled features seeming more prominent and oppressive at that angle. His strong hand gripped her waist, fingertips digging into her hips as he spun her around forcefully. "Oh, it has been too long since I've reminded yo--" his taunt stopped short as he, with her hair in his grasp, noticed on the back of her neck the same, circular pattern which he'd seen on the strange contraption on the television. Had the humans...experimented on her? A new type of fury was beginning to well up inside of him. Though, he'd not forgotten what he'd come for, but delayed to inspect the markings on the back of her neck. However, his focus on the paralysis was broken and Lavinia could feel freedom returning to her stiffened limbs.

 

[Jumbled]

When she’d intended to go shower, Lavinia had expected Rasalas to be in his normal, subdued state of meditation. He did that a lot. Always so proper and reserved-- until he wasn’t. She hadn’t realized he’d be so unsettled, so antsy, in her home. She didn’t carry that same sense of the world and things around her she once had to have expected the shift in his state of being. She would never have known that her near-human state was eating him up, causing him rage and bringing forth desires to punish her. Her feet felt as though they’d suddenly been nailed to the ground. She grunted as she struggled to take the next step forward, but her body was no longer hers-- again. Rasalas had seen her, and although she wasn’t embarrassed of what she looked like, she hadn’t remembered his tendencies to go so dark; so possessive and aggressive with her body. He craved her in a way she struggled to resist, but even so, she was much too helpless against him with no Godly defenses to speak of. “Ras--” her voice was shaky as the paralysis set in further.

Her eyes were fixed on his every move. She’d forgotten how much she’d enjoyed his form. The every tone of his muscles enticed her. Again, she could never know how people could avoid looking at him so actively. He was godly in more ways than one. Her fear was conflicted as she watched him remove articles of his attire piece by piece. His erection was already prominent and he approached her slowly but eagerly. The darkness began to creep in on her vision. It was like a spreading poison he’d used to threaten her back into the void. His hand touched her cheek, at first the way a lover might, but then his touching became more lust driven as his hand traveled down her neck and up into her hair. She groaned with the pain of her neck jerking up, gazing up into those eyes of his, darkening with his mood. His other hand found her waist and with a motion she had no means to fight, she turned her around. He was pressed against her, the only thing between the two of them were the black-net stockings. Her heart thumped in her chest. He was going to take her, ripping into her without so much as getting her warmed up. But soon after he’d begun his threats, his words trailed off into the void he held so much power over.

Her fingers twitched and she found feeling enough to tilt her head to the side. Her arm, though still quite stiff, moved up to meet his, her hand finding his own as it gripped her hair. “Ras?” she started. It wasn’t like him to just stop like that. “What’s… happened?” she asked.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas growled low as he stared at the distinctive marking on her neck, "A distraction. One which won't keep me. We will discuss it later." There was no doubt regarding the pattern, now it was just a matter of why it appeared on her. Regardless, his body ached with need as he looked at Lavinia, half prostrate and subdued as she was. Something about it made him even more eager as he released her hair, brushing her hand aside as he brought his hands together between her legs. Gripping the fishnet, he ripped it in half noisily as if to better announce his intention to use her at his leisure. One arm then wrapped around her waist and his fingertip teased at the hood which rest atop the sensitive button outside her womanhood.

The other traced up her back and found the back of her neck, grabbing hold and pushing her downwards as if to further implicate her position beneath him. Rasalas' thick member twitched with desire as he neared Lavinia. He expected her to be wet and warm, eager to welcome him. Regardless of how she'd behaved previously, Lavinia had at least one soft spot for him. However, he found her not quite as ready as he'd anticipated and he suspected maybe the terror wasn't as enticing as it had been in the past. Slowly, her vision began to normalize and the feeling of subjugation was replaced merely by the dominant presence looming over her. As the head of him pressed against her, Rasalas began to grind sensually against her. He was warmer when he was aroused, though only enough that he'd equal her temperature.

He groaned softly with anticipation, occasionally hooking the tip of his manhood into her entrance. Each time, he'd push just a bit deeper into her before allowing himself to glide back out. Humans required such a tantalizing dance which stimulated their bodies into action. His fingers had not forgotten about the little button, rubbing counterclockwise circles just above in order to coax her further. His hand around the back of her neck loosened and caressed her jaw around to her chin before pushing his index into her mouth at about the same time as he began to slide within her. Fighting his instinct to take her with reckless abandon, he realized her more human nature meant he needed to be a little more considerate. ~Fragile,~ he thought and he found himself oddly enticed by the idea that he might hurt her if he wasn't careful.

 

[Jumbled]

Lavinia’s confusion grew stronger as Rasalas brushed her off. What distraction? Was there something wrong with her hair; her body? She couldn’t fathom what might possibly derail him from his task as he held onto her the way he did. He released her hair and pushed her gentle touch away. He didn’t want to be sweet with her, but she was suddenly troubled by his sudden shift in behavior. He wanted something darker and raw. His hands ripped away at her stockings, the seams dissipating into ash that hovered along lazily in the air as the netting followed suit, fading from her form completely.

His touches were forceful and deliberate with every motion he made. He had her by the waist, his arm wrapping around her figure with room to spare as his hand found her center, teasing it with slow winding motions. His free hand forced her down further away from him. Her mind was still not free of him, however. Her vision going black only made her think of his previous torture. Lavinia still couldn’t understand why he’d grown distracted with her and the more she fixated on it, the less she was enjoying his touching.

As though he had begun to read the situation, his hold on the void faded from her mind and she could see her full apartment. Her body eased more into him, thankful that he’d at least given her some relief from the terror. She reached to grab hold of Rasalas’ arm that hugged her, trying to find a small way to feel closer to him emotionally, though he didn’t seem to want her sweet nature regarding his own pleasure.

He was getting wound up, his shaft sliding against her slowly beckoning forth the reactions from her body he knew he’d eventually find. With every slow thrust against her, she felt her mind being lulled off to a more sensual place than she had been previously. Her body began to yearn for him. The head of his cock teasing her opening, just barely entering her enough so that she could feel the distinct definition of its tip. She moaned softly, her backside moving closer to him as she began to sway against his own rhythm.

His hand loosened its grip on her neck and drifted along her soft jawline. His finger found her lips and she parted them slightly as the tip of her tongue greeted him, allowing him access as he simultaneously penetrated her fully with his length. Her eyes nearly rolled back from the feeling of Rasalas inside of her. Even her mouth was eager to suck along his finger, swirling her tongue around it as she sucked against it, her teeth lightly biting against him.

Her fingernails dug into his arm as Lavinia was being overwhelmed with sensations. Every part of him was working along her body. If he was trying to punish her for something, he was doing a confusing job of things. He’d not only made it to where she could barely touch him, but also managed to touch so many pleasurable places for her at the same time.

 

[Vekraihr]

Rasalas silently cursed himself for having said anything, frustrated that he’d allowed himself to be distracted and thusly draw her mind away from the task at hand as well. He’d felt how she questioned herself and waned in her confidence. Such was unacceptable for her as, in his mind, her form was utter perfection. He’d never said as much, though, whether she realized it or not, Rasalas never looked at another in the way he looked at her. Anyone else had only ever been a means to an end and held no interest further.

Rasalas could feel how Lavinia grew amorous towards him and it spread a smile over his lips, though she wouldn’t see. He growled softly with delight before quietly moaning as he hilted himself within her and then withdrew, angling his cock within her as to amplify her stimulation. Steadily, his hips found a rhythm of motion which generated a shock through her each time his waist collided with her backside. His godhood pulsed with the increasing tempo of his heart as he began to lift her up by the waist and brought her toes off the ground. His strength was such that he didn’t even seem to struggle as he straightened her body until her back was pressed against his firm chest and stomach.

Each thrust made her bounce with the force of his desire and his finger moved back and forth inside her mouth in tandem to his gyrations. Slowly, he withdrew his finger and brushed her hair aside as his head crest her shoulder. His lips started at her shoulder, trailing along her skin with occasional presses and nibbles before involving his tongue as he reached the nape of her neck. Tracing shapes around the vein of her neck as he approached her ear, nipping the lobe as he thrust hard into her and quietly moaned, “Lavinia.” Her name was as a commandment upon his lips. He’d taken a handful of her breast at this point and kneaded it slowly, pinching her nipple and giving it a twist or tug from time to time. Around her waist, he held firm as his fingers continued to play an erotic tune on her center.

It was strange how he simultaneously robbed her of any control of the situation and yet held her in such a way as to secure her against him. Rasalas was more in tune with her than any other being at this moment and he moaned his delight into her flesh as he bit softly into the edge of her ear. Similarly, her reactions to him merely ignited his inner fire as each wave of motion grew more fervent than the last. Only one thing mattered to him right now as their bodies mingled together as if two puzzle pieces interlocking. His hand squeezed on her voluptuous mound, tantalized by their fullness and enjoying the warmth therein.

Slowly, Rasalas could feel the rise towards climax building within the depths of his stomach. His body shook as each microcosm of the coming orgasm racked him with pleasure. His hand left her breast and gripped her chin and jaw firmly, but not painfully so. His lips parted from her flesh long enough for him to turn hers enough to allow him to take them with a passionate claim. The kiss was nearly forceful in its intensity and, yet, his lips remembered the shape of hers well and molded to encapsulate hers in the ways she’d enjoyed. His own parted as his tongue deftly darted forth, demanding access to her own as it pushed through her lips and greeted hers with a spiraling dance.