Damned and Damned again.

[Nightingale]

The victorious laughter of the crew echoed off the walls of the ruin. They had uncovered the tomb in one of their -supposedly worthless- sites just outside of the desert. One of the laborers grunted and hissed as he pushed on the stone door with all his might. It cracked, and began to scrape against the sand dusted floor as it moved to reveal the lavish tomb of -as they had learned from the inscription upon the walls- a very powerful King of sorts.

They had ignored the warnings that one of the fiercest demon kings known to the tribe had been laid here. Their belief in such things had waned long ago with their ancestors. However, they found more than they had bargained for. The leader of the laborers made a call to the man running the operation, they knew little of the man except that he came from extreme wealth and that they'd been offered quite a lovely bit of it to dig up these ruins placed in the middle of Gods forsaken nowhere.

Within the initial chamber laid the sarcophagus, they'd found a second chamber, the door was marked heavy with unusual runes and symbols. None of which registered within their primal knowledge. She could barely hear them. Their curious murmurs reaching her keen ears. The slumber that lingered upon her began to wane. The world coming into a sharp focus. Though she remained still. Locked within a crystal tomb, eyes closed, but ears ever listening to the eager words beyond her entrapment.

Their hopes for gold and treasures amused her sleepy self.. and the ideals of feeding upon their filthy essence stirred her hunger. Yet still she could not move, she could not hope that these foul things would even have a clue as how to release her. However, little to her knowledge, the man who paid them did.

 

[Methos]

He’d watched the works toil away at digging down into the tomb. Treasure hunting and ready gold on his part had made these labourers rather willing accomplices from the outset. However, they had no idea what he was really about. A smile graced his lips as he saw the tomb uncovered. He wore a dark hood, that black cowl cloaking his features as he stood a ways back. However, as the entrance to the tomb became uncovered he slowly began to walk towards it. There was a sword at his hip but for the moment it likely served little purpose. His hand raised and a globe of flight simply emerged from his fingertips and illuminated the hallways before him.

Rich works of gold and gem stones were clearly upon display. It was a rich tomb. Had he simply been raiding the desert for the goods of perished monarchs he would think himself to have found a rather rich haul. But perhaps the mosaics upon the wall should have given him pause. After all the depictions of demons and the other world were sufficient to seeming terrify his workers. Although he simply grinned. After all that was no more than confirmation that he was in the right place and this was indeed the right tomb.

The sounds of his boots scuffing against the floor could be head. Steady footfalls upon that ancient stone. This one was different he wasn’t here for gold or jewels. Although he certainly would take them. After all wealth always had its purpose and there was little point in leaving it behind. No he was there just for her. But he exuded many things at a glance, knowledge, magic, ambition. This one would hold the world in his palm if he had the chance. Dark eyes gazed out from under the black hood and as he moved into the second chamber they fell upon that crystal sarcophagus. He walked towards it in an unhurried manner, slowly coming to a halt right before it.

His fingers stroked along the crystal lines of that sarcophagus. His fingers brushing against that slick crystal as he murmured “Hello Deia.” There he lingered as he smiled “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long.’ He chuckled softly “Although you do have all the time in the world.” He smiled as he noted “But perhaps not after all…for I am the last of those that cursed you and bound you beyond this world.’ His tone was rather mild as he noted “Which of course makes me the very last of those that could free you.”

He pulled a chain from his neck as he held it over the crystal tomb. “But Deia..I’m prepared to release you but I will bind you to this soul gem. You see how its almost in a golden box but glimmers out beyond it. If I die the gem is crushed and if the gem is crush it casts you back precisely where you are right now. If I simply will it the gem is crushed to the same effect. You are cast back into your prison and barred from this world. After all I’m not going to destroy your prison and its chains just provide a bridge out of it that remains entirely dependent upon my good will.”

 

[Nightingale]

A familiar presence approached her cage, and her soul trembled. No bloodline had ever been powerful enough to touch her and her beloved. However, the particular blood that approached her, and riled her senses, was that of the only one who made a sacrifice big enough to seduce the aid of the Gods. The only blood that could free her, and it was singing to her, though the words that crossed, sharp and clear from the voice the obviously powerful male, quickly killed her joy. He was toying with her. Playing with the idea of freeing her.. but not just quite. As it stood, the mark burned into her flesh enabled her from doing him any inhuman harm.. however it did not keep her from physically mauling him to pieces. He would bind her to the Soul gem.. clever, clever boy.

For Centuries.. you and yours have kept me here. Hidden me beneath the dirt if your plane and kept me from my children.. kept me from my home and my kind... you dare to enslave me? For what purpose -Mortal- could I be of use to you? I am weak, too long from the feed and too far from any source of my home that could enable me any strength... leave me be in my tomb.. leave me in peace and I won't be forced to find a way around you.

Her words would echo within his mind alone. The laborers stared on in confusion and concern as their employer seemed to converse with what appeared to be a deliciously preserved body of a dead woman. However their startled yelps and hurried backward steps would be the pleasant reaction to the movements she proceeded with. Lashes fluttered against full cheeks before rising to narrowed slits, revealing beneath their envious length hues of molten ember. Deia had been chosen by her late husband not so much solely upon her looks, but strongly for, and secondly for the supreme skill she exuded in political matter and the power she held trapped within her petite frame. The six foot crystal sarcophagus housed a five foot six inch tall woman. Slender, lithe frame with luscious, vivacious curves, hair of star fire, and skin kissed golden by the sun.

Pleasant upon the eyes, and more so desirable due to the lack of clothing upon her trapped figure. Full, pink lips twitched over the the ache of her delicate, elongated incisors. They ached to feed upon the fear of the retreating laborers. Deia appeared human within her cage. As she did once before the time of her capture. The fox that lingered in her blood could only be seen in glimpses and glimmers when her mood spiked. The powers she received from the deceased Solarian Demon enabled her many a great gift in glamour. She could choose to appear how she wished, but how she was now.. was the true Deia.

 

[Methos]

He simply smiled as he stood there. “Oh did you really think for a moment that anyone would set you free without their being a price Decia?” There was a bemused tone in his voice. “What profit is there in my freeing you without any conditions? I should think it would be rather hazardous to my health.” He chuckled softly as he remarked “You may call what I offer you slavery, but you tell me Deia is that better or worse than what you have now? You can rattle a tin cup against your magical bars for an eternity…weak, isolated, trapped and hungry….or you can serve me.” He dangled the soul gem right above her sarcophagus as he murmured “I’m sure you wish to stir your body from there and soothe your hunger.” He smiled as he remarked “But of course if you’re not interested I shall simply take some gold and jewels from this tomb and be along my way.”

The labourers seemed to be concerned as he stood there dangling a gemstone and conversing with what looked like a beautiful corpse. However, he simply glanced in their direction as they yelped and back away as the apparently dead woman opened her eyes and fluttered her lashes. He smirked in a rather casual fashion. Really not nearly as surprised by that as the labourers. After all she had been talking to him why wouldn’t she be able to bat her eyes? She was a pretty site encased in crystal as she was. Delicate, long haired and fetching. Very much the sleeping beauty aside for the fact she was a demon. That was somewhat different.

He grinned slightly as he smiled down at her. “See you want to feed. Look how quickly they frighten…” He mused casually enough. His fingers stroked along the crystal as he remarked “You want out of there I can tell.” It was a rather casual statement. And he raised his hand and pricked his finger upon the point of a dagger. A single drop of blood would strike the soul stone as it hung above her. His voice strong and powerful began to sound. Chanting those ancient words, over and over again with great force. That which held her within the crystal and trapped her there unable to part slowly gave way to the irresistible tugging sensation of the blood gem.

It didn’t seek to break through her bonds or her prison. Simply to slip her ought from where she was and bind her to the soul gem. Its power called to her and beckoned. Pulling upon her, calling her back to the world of mortals. Giving her that tantalizing scent of the fear of the labourers. They were there ready prey for her if and when she returned. But that lithe and luscious form was called forth. The glimmering reddish tendrils of magic that extended from the hand of the wizard pulled her forth. Tugging and pulling until she could deny her desires to return no more. After all to serve him was better than an eternity of nothing surely…

 

[Nightingale]

Deia was not surprised that he proceeded with little heed for her own emotional standing. The warmth of the tendrils caressed her, and slowly she could feel the hold of the case slipping. It felt like she was trying to trudge through a pit in the abyss. Once she was freed from the shell the world seemed to caress her. Her senses suddenly flooded with all things living. The warmth crept up along her spine. Her eyes fluttered open completely, those burning embers settled into a soft gold, flecked with shimmering flakes of ivory. Those lush lips parted and a small hiss escaped her. Her hands feel to her sides, fingertips lightly grazing her thighs. Nails extending into razor like claws. She stood close. Her nose nearly grazing the Soul Gem he dangled in front of her. Her hands raised the tips of her claws lightly grazing the material of his hood. Her body exposed to the eyes around her.

"You've simply moved me from one prison to the next.. at least allow me the joy of feeding upon your filthy pets.. their fear.."

She breathed in deeply, enthralled, intoxicated nearly by the scent of their fear alone. Her heart beat quickened and her hunger began to gnaw at her insides. Her eyes closed and she purred, her body moving forward in a sensual motion. Her nose nudging the fabric as she breathed in of his scent as well. When her eyes opened those burning embers had returned, pupils narrowed into slits, and she opened her mouth to taste of his scent. Of the fear that lingered in the room. The flicker of a long slender fox tail could be seen, and a twitch of ears upon her crown.

"Their fear... it calls to me...Master.. let me feed. "

She knew the words to use, the way to play the game. He had her life in his control, and for the time being she need comply, even if just for the minimal freedom he was allowing her. Heat rippled off her flesh in torrents, raw power licking at the world around her like an open flame. Her body cradling into his own. An intimate position, but Deia was known for her cruel ways of torturing those who wronged her.

 

[Methos]

Oh there was no mistaking that he hadn’t offered her a choice. He had simply said some soothing words to try and ease the fact that he was ripping her from her prison to make her into his slave upon another. Naturally with the ability to cast her right back into her prison the moment he so desired. Oh but magic had an intoxicating feel to it. To channel all that power even if but a few moments was a pleasurable thing. The spell was completed and then she stood before him. With that a smile graced his lips as he murmured “Welcome back to the land of the living.” He stated casually enough.

He regarded her form, his eyes drifting over her with far more than casual interest. Oh she had always been rumoured to be beautiful. But there was something different to hearing someone was beautiful and seeing it right there before his eyes. His dark eyes gazed into those golden orbs and drank in that slender and shapely form. The soul gem was slid back around his neck. Hanging there at his throat. He watched her peer at him and then flare her nostrils to take in his scent. Naturally enough having road through the desert he smelled of sand, leather and horses. A masculine scent but hardly the sweetest of perfumes.

His features remained hidden within the hood, but he felt her draw near to him. Her form brushing in against his own as the heat from her body seemed to flow into his own. His hand extended towards her, bronzed fingers slid along her side. Stroking over her flesh and tracing over the curve of her body. His hand lingered upon her hip as she asked him to feed upon his hirelings. He smiled to her as he leaned in towards her ear. “Why do you think I brought them?” He let his lips brush upon her cheek as he remarked “You may feed upon them Deia. They are my gift to you.”

His gaze turned towards the rather frightened hirelings and he simply smiled. His grinned to them as they’d thought him crazed talking to a dead woman. But now she was a very live demoness. He looked at them and remarked “You should run. Although it will make no difference.” With that said he simply laughed for they were as good as dead. He watched and waited for her to spring in to action. He could sense her hunger. For it would have been so very long since she had been allowed to feed…

He knew the demoness was trying to make herself agreeable to him. Manipulate him in some way. It was inevitable really. Such creatures would always seek to find some way to wrest control of the situation. But the mark upon her flesh and the soul gem and his own sorcery left him in a far stronger position than any other. But still if she thought the batting of her eyes and purring master to him would allay his suspicions she was perhaps overly optimistic.

 

[Nightingale]

His hand placed upon her hip was let to stay. Normally she would have struck away such attempts, her flesh sacred for she was the sole heir of Solara. However, that was not the case here. She'd been called to this plane and trapt here by that mans wicked ancestors. They'd torn her away from her children.. from her people.. and yet now, in this day she was enslaved to him. Bound by blood and soul magics. The scar that graced her shoulder ran along the length of her back. The marking of a condemned one. The mark his ancestors used to seal away the powers of demons. "I shall accept this gift."

She knew.. her quaint little mewlings and sultry words would not get her far at all with this one, but it was in her nature to do such. The men tried to gather their wits about them, barely managing to turn and run, but they did not get very far. Deia sprang, faster than the human eye could follow without powerful assistance. The first two fell with little effort. The only sight seen would be her nude form straddling their trembling bodies and her mouth close to theirs. She would breath in deep and drink in of their life essence. Their fear pumping through her, fueling her power. The third.. oh she now had energy to toy with him. His band struck the wall with a loud thud as she pressed against him. Her talons teasing down alone his cheek and throat whilst her free hand moved brace his side, digging those razor claws into his flesh.

"Would you mind..if I hurt you?"

She cooed against his ear. Flicking the tip of her tongue along the rim. With the slightest of sighs she brought her claws to his chest and with minimal force shoved through his rib cage to grip his heart. With a backwards step, she yanked it forth and brought the still beating, bloody organ up to her lips. She took a tentative lick before crushing it and dropping it upon the now limp and lifeless body of the final sacrifice. The heat of the feed coursed through her. The hunger turning to lust. She tried to shake the feeling before turning to look upon her new Master. Her doll like face was framed by an array of curls, the crimson tresses cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, kissing the backs of her knees with their layered ends. Those eyes calm once again. Little traits of her being an actual demon remained.

"Now then." she purred in that delighted accent of hers. "Might I be gifted clothing?"

 

[Methos]

No doubt his ancestors would not have approved of his enslaving her rather than leaving her bound in this tomb. But that was a different time and he was hardly about to be bound by ancient traditions. He’d learned their magics but he had his own innovations. He saw that long scar along her back and his lips quirked as she stated that she would accept the gift of the poor fools that he had led here. He almost felt sorry for them for they had no idea what they had been getting into. But then he hardly could bring himself to feel overly sorry for feeding this scum who would have sold him their mothers for a few pieces of silver to her. They wouldn’t be missed.

He watched curiously as she sprang into action. Indeed her movement was a blur which he could scarcely follow. He smiled faintly as he watched the grave robbers fall. First one, then the other. She seemed to suck the life out of them one by one. It struck him as being strangely like seeing a cat let loose upon a roomful of mice. Just a graceful and sudden death to the rodents who seemingly didn’t know what had hit them. She was undoubtedly dangerous. But there was something simply fascinating about the way she moved.

He watched her play with the last one sitting her slight naked form atop of him and then ripping out his heart. He smiled faintly for it was a shiny piece or rock charged with magic and that long scar that strayed across her back that prevented him from suffering a similar fate. With her gory little spectacle completed he let his eyes stray along that naked form. Indeed it was hard not to look upon her with a measure of lust. She was his slave now after all. His mind briefly turned to pressing that luscious little form over that crystal crypt and having her here and now.

But as she turned towards him with blood splattered upon her he smirked and his mind turned to more immediate concerns. Clothing, yet he had anticipated that request. He produced a package and tossed it to her. The bundle was bound with a satin ribbon but contained a single garment. A dress of the most opaque and whispy red silk seemingly designed to hug her body and show almost everything. But covering just enough to hint at but not really assure decency. Evidently her knew master wanted her to look the part of a pretty slave.

He reached into a pocket and then drew forth a gold and ruby studded choker. The sort of bauble the rich would put around the throat of their slaves. He walked over towards her and slipped it around her throat. He rather laconically remarked “I’m hardly going to tell people I have a demon following in my wake.” He smirked “Hence you are my newest toy, a favoured pleasure slave. Your presence is now to be entirely taken for granted.”

 

[Nightingale]

Catching the tossed package took little to no effort on her part. As she toyed with the ribbon, her keen eyes caught his movement out of the corner and she lifted her head just in time to be greeted with the filth of a collar being draped about her slender throat. She scoffed, nearly choking on the spew of obscenities that wished to flee from the tip of her tongue. This was, above all else, the most insufferable of insults. Those demonic hues narrowed upon him. Fuming with the flames of the nine gates to death and forever burning his image in the back of her mind. She would remember this, she would remember all of it.. back to the very beginning. Then, when the chance came.. she would devour him, and make him suffer the way his kin made her and hers suffer. Jerking out of his reach she pulled the ribbon from the package and gently unfolded the material, setting the scant little dress aside and using the packaging itself to cleanse her flesh of the splattered crimson. Once the task was completed she slipped into the flowing number.

The generous red hue accentuated her golden flash, but paled in comparison to her fiery mane. The long delicate tresses fell in soft waves against the sheer material and shone brilliantly with luster and life. Now that she had fed, her colour had returned more brilliant than before and she could feel the power coursing through her veins. Golden orbs, with their slitted pupils, and flakes of pure ivory settled upon his form once more and she took a generous, fluid bow. "Of course, My Master, I wish only for you and to take what is mine for granted.. to find pleasure in my body and power.." Within that instant she had moved. Her body pressed into the curve of his side and her gentle fingertips grazed ever so softly along the nape of his neck. Her breath tickling against his ear as she spoke. "Only you need know a Demon follows in your wake.. for only you will one day suffer my pain."

With that said she moved away from him. Planting her rear upon the top of the sarcophagus that housed her husbands remains. The palm of her hand gently caressed over the engraved runes. Centuries long she had remained alive inside that crystaline tomb.. tortured by the presence of her husbands tomb. Silently she made a promise, in the back of her mind to him and theirs. For now, she must play the part.. she must give this mortal what he yearns for so desperately. However, when the day came, she would do right. She would show him the true power she housed.. the power that even he could not provoke from her.

 

[Methos]

Despite rather thorough and exquisite planning he was aware this was a rather inherently dangerous game he was playing. It was rather like hunting a tiger down in the wild, attempting to capture it and then hoping to keep it and tame it as a pet. Sure it would be splendid if it all worked out for you but there were so many ways it could all go horribly wrong. He watched her dispatch the poor greedy fools who’d come along expecting to do some digging and to haul treasure out of a tomb and knew full well she’d try to do the same to him given even half a chance. His familial magic and the soul stone were all that held her at bay.

He had her on that leash but like any wild creature he rather fully expected her to strain at being leashed. He watched her with those dark eyes as he remained hidden within the cowl of his hood. His features obscured as he looked her over. He could help but smile as he let his eyes stray along her. The crimson fabric hugged her body and that form was a thing of legend. It was really all he could do to stop his jaw from dropping. Casually his hand flicked his hood backwards and it fell back to his shoulders revealing his face. His features were tanned a deep bronze from steady exposure to the sun. While black hair was cropped rather closely to his head. Dark eyes were the colour of burnished coals and they had a hunger and that glimmer of intelligence to them. His cheekbones were high and his chin strong. No doubt he bore more than a passing resemblance to his rather illustrious ancestors. Rather casually he stated “I am Xander.”

He felt her warm body slid in against him. The curve of her form sliding into his side. Her words and breath seeming to promise him everything he could possibly desire..pleasure, power and so much more. As she stroke her fingers along him she’d feel his own hand rising to her side. His finger was tracing along her cheek. Subtle circles were being drawn upon her golden flesh. He leaned in to her and let his lips brush against her own. He kissed her as he murmured “If I find anything less I shall be truly disappointed.“ His voice was soft but she’d feel magic surging towards her seeking not to harm her but to connect to her. It was a sudden and insidious thing a bonding of sorts even beyond the soul gem. His magic creeping into her, seeking to penetrate her thoughts, her magic so that he could experience it all.

He wanted to draw on her magic. To add it to his own that much would be clear as he sought to bind her to him even more closely. His talents were considerable but a wizard could always grow stronger by binding the power of the supernatural to his own. The stronger the creature…the greater the enhancement. His hand was locked to her cheek and the other slid down her side, his hand slipping to cup the curve of her ass and to draw her in towards him. His dark eyes gazing down at her as he sought to penetrate her…magically of course.

 

[Nightingale]

As he removed that hood and revealed his most handsome of features, she could -without a doubt- match each resemblance in his face to those of the people whom had put her here. A pang of hurt and anger shot through her heart, coursing through her veins like hot lead. He approached and her body melted into the curve of his own, fitting against him like a fit glove. His lips brushed her own and his words had not gone astray. Though he spoke of disappointment, they both knew he would find no such thing in her power. Or else he would not have come this far and risked so much by releasing her. Her lips moved against his own, the soft tiers matching the movement of his own.

She could feel the tendrils of magic trying to snake their way into her core. A strong shield protected her magic core, protected her thoughts from outside penetration. With a small, subtle intake of breath she let those walls down and he'd find himself deeper in bond with her than he likely would have imagined. She could feel a surge of power tickle down her spine, running through every muscle, every fiber of her being and then jumping along to him. She could feel the surge reach out and caress him. It trailed along his flesh before seeping in and diving into his core. Giving him an unfamiliar taste of her power. However, it was just a taste and though it would not seem likely, she was controlling just how much power he would feel and would control just how much of her power he would be able to use.

His hand trailed along her side, cupping and grasping at her firm rear. She murred softly against his lips and cupped her body closer to his own. The warmth of her radiating against the robes that he wore. Her cheek nuzzled in against his palm and sharp teeth drew gently upon his bottom tier. Tugging it and releasing promptly. Only to kiss the supple lip and nudge her nose in against his own. "I must say.. for someone I should despise.. and wish only to rue.. I find myself craving a ... deeper touch from my Master.." She purred seductively against his lips, her voice a soft, sultry little whisper. Though she knew it wrong, and it idealy twisted her stomach, she could not help but crave the warmth of his touch, and crave that he sate the desires stirring in her loins. After feeding, Deia could be very, very, needy. Not to mention she'd spent centuries locked away, devoid of all sensation.

 

[Methos]

He felt the spell slowly taking effect, his magic pressing to her very being and seeping into it. Flowing over and into her and simply drawing her towards him. Binding her every more closely to him to the point where he swore he could simply feel her presence rather more acutely. He felt that surge of magic flowing back to her. A pool of additional power and magic that he could draw on. That alone had a certain sweet tang to it. After all to use magic was to adore it and to crave to ever draw more and more. His eyes had a certain gleam to them as he felt her magic sliding into him a conduit of further power that he could harness and control…

He felt the warmth of her body and then the press of her cheek against his hand. He felt those warm lips kissing and tugging upon his lower lip. He heard her breathy little whisper and while it struck him that the smart thing to do would be keep her at arms length…their was something about a beautiful woman exuding sexual want just offering herself to you that was so very hard to consider on a strictly logical basis. He could not look at that perfectly formed body and feel its heat pressed against him without lust stirring in his veins. His dark eyes lingered upon her and his mouth soon pressed rather zealously to her own.

He kissed her as his hands slid over that silk clad form. Strong fingers pressing to her flesh. His hand straying along the curve of her side and traveling downwards from her ribcage over the sweet expanse of her hip to press to her thigh. Naturally enough those greedy fingers grasped the curve of her bottom as she leaned against him. Squeezing and pressing to her flesh. The other strayed from the thigh where it rested upwards along her inner thigh. His sword calloused fingers drifting upwards along that golden flesh. His hand slipping beneath that opaque silk to stray towards the apex of her thighs. His fingers seeking out those soft nether lips as she pressed in against him. His fingers pressed down against her and began to stroke rather firmly upon those soft lips

She seemed to crave his touch or so she said. But now she received it, but his touch only seemed to seek to stoke her desires. To leave her body craving even more than she had but a moment before. His fingers and lips rather insidiously working upon her to stimulate her further. Her body was leaned in against him and she’d feel his own arousal. His prick stiffening, his pulse quickening. The lustful manner in which his eyes lingered upon her flesh. It was a rather naked want and she need not even to feel the magical connection between them to be aware of it.