The Judicator's Fall (Alazaria x darjeeling)

[Alazaria]

Leaves rustled in the moonlit night; the cool twilight breeze flirting about the cloudless skies. A solitary building sat upon the flat expanse of grass. There was something about it that was quite simply, amiss. No birds flew above the thatched roof. Not a single creature disturbed the unnatural silence that seemed to permeate stone walls crumbling with age. Yet, even such a desolate shack played host to a subtle flame. The telltale violet flicker of a wick that left the wax on which it stood untouched.

A figure cast aside the flame. Bright, cerulean spheres set upon delicate features. The light tinging silky onyx strands with but a hint of lavender. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. All that remained was but the final step from which there was no return. A slit cut into the ornately decorated skirt pulling taut across her hips revealed tantalizing glimpses of bare thigh with every step. Exposing a dainty bow atop her stockings; heels clicking against wooden floorboards as her gaze drifted lazily along her handiwork. She had been coming here for weeks. Keeping it warded. Hidden away and out of sight. Every waking moment spent fantasizing about its completion.

Nine greater order magical circles inset within the seal of Bahamut; arrayed to a perversion of the Constellation of Virgo. Concentric rings and long, arcing lines dotted by runes of an abyssal tongue not even she truly understood. The four walls emblazoned, each, with symbols of their respective azimuth element. Piles of reagents scattered in carefully measured quantities. Lithe digits danced upon the surface of a ruined dresser; trailing along the surface until they came upon the hilt of a dagger. Gloved hands closing upon the length as she proceeded to what seemed the only spot in the room not covered in intricate designs or scattered debris. Lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes.

The terrible visions that haunted her every night clawed its way into even the tranquil darkness she allowed for a moment of respite. A blush erupted onto her cheeks as the images forced themselves into her mind. Her eyes straining as she sought dispel the nightmare; the girl tilting her head up ever so slightly with a shiver. Ever since the detonation. When the Kaiyan Incursion’s Special Operations lost control of that experimental mass rift.

Panting softly, the Sorceress tore open her eyes. Full lips parted as she dispelled the seductive whispers reverberating within her head. The low cut silken top caressing her feminine curves strained against her ample chest. Molding her mana, she steeled her mind; robes fluttering in the still night as power surged at her fingertips. The girl wove intangible streams of magic and redirected them into the gate. Where those Elitist mongrels who had left her alone in this world had failed, she would rise triumphant.

Gems burst with contact to her aura- power surging into the carefully drawn lines. Lighting them up with an arcane brilliance as each reaction touched upon another. The cascading blue channels quickly saturated her spell; evoking a tempest that activated all of the suppression fields she had prepared and dispelled the illusory field concealing her efforts from prying eyes. Loose parchment filled with preliminary designs and prototypes of her matrix evaporating into nothingness. None of that mattered now. If she were successful, she didn’t care if the world knew. She wanted them to know.

With a flash of steel, the woman brandished her blade; cutting through silk and flesh alike as she raised her shivering arm forward. Blood trickling from the gash in her hand. The pain she felt would be ephemeral. This was nothing compared to quelling the demons of her past. Clenching her fist, even the almighty pull of gravity seemed suppressed. Piercing sapphires following those glimmering garnets they slowly succumbed to Newtonian law. Symphonia winced, raising both her hands to shield herself from the ballooning eruption of steam as the matrix seemed to have taken quite aggressively to its final reagent. The sizzling of the drops that followed only adding both the density and absurdity of the mist blossoming from her spellcraft.

Had it worked?

The dagger fell away from her hand and clattered upon the floor. She was certain she had done everything correctly. As the whispers commanded. The Sorceress rolled her painted lip between her teeth as she waited, nervous with anticipation. Adrenaline pumping through her veins. The girl raked forward with her hand, a quick spell that should have banished the mist completely ineffective; her mana dissipating with little result.

 

[darjeeling]

Rayvnelle was floating, the distance between dreams, nightmares and realities of unimportance to her as her detached body swam through the sea of wailing souls. The air was thick and heavy; one lungful would suffocate any lesser being, but the Wisp inhaled it like ambrosia. It was the only thing keeping her afloat amidst the clamor of pale gaunt faces and horrified expressions of endless suffering. Ravynelle was one such unfortunate spirit, thrown away like a peculiar treasure that was no longer of use. As it was, this fact was one of the few truths she had come to believe in. Her many centuries imprisoned here had done more than enough to hone her jaded temperament. Forever still she would wander, until it happened.

Ruby, glimmering drops fell once, splashing against where her face would be had she owned one. The blood was absorbed quickly, a dash of red flowing through her unused veins but it was not enough. A second droplet soon joined the first, drawn to their brethren as yet another and another until it she was a Wisp of pulsating crimson rather than ostentatious shades of green that swarmed around her. She knew they were eager to take in the blood but Rayvnelle was selfish. She took it all for herself, not a single drip was shared. Her unstable body trembled, a sickening crunch booming throughout the spacious cavern. She felt a dreadful tugging behind her naval, as if someone had cast a line into the very depths of the Old Realm. Which was exactly what had happened, she realized, as she was very harshly pulled into the world of the Living.

Swathes of crimson span like velvet silk as it wound around the ethereal shadow, stretching tight as if it were being winched. The air thrummed and undulated; vibrations of the Arcane, whispers of the dark and terrible painted the cool stone walls a deep shade of purple splattered in splotches of sickening shades of grey. The mist that billowed out from the center of the runes was dense, thicker than any fog she had succumbed to and the air was lighter still but she could breathe. It was not a necessity, however. It had already been a good five minutes since the Wisp had taken in any sort of oxygen. This world was strange and different as grew closer to the watery, silver light. She stretched out her arm as if to claw her way to life, marveling at the shimmering shape resembling that of a hand as her fingers touched the surface, rippling like water.

The Succubus appeared with a sultry hiss that seared the air around her, her voluptuous body covered in a sheen of sweat and moisture as if born and reborn, yet the creature paid her state of undress no heed. Dizzy as she was, her first appearance into this world would not see her fall to her knees. The creature stood tall, her claws hands coming up as she inspected them with detached amusement, turning them with her palm faced up, then face down. She was satisfied in her new look; her body felt strong, far stronger than any Wisp. Rayvnelle felt the strangest urge to look back, to see if she could glance down at her inferior brethren to mock and jeer at them but she would not. After all, a word of thanks must be paid to the one who had summoned her.

A single hand placed a cautious hand on her hip, nails dangerously sharp and glinting in the dim shaft of moonlight that had broken its way through the flimsy vegetation that made up the downtrodden hut's roof. What was stranger still was the tone of her skin: pure scarlet, from her brow where her raven-black hair met a pair of thick horns which sprouted near her temples. They curved backwards in a shape resembling that of a crude halo, perhaps meant by their creator to mock the Heavenly creatures above. Just below the ridged bones rested ears tapered at the ends, a feature further dedicated to her unholy heritage as points of dark black lined the edges of her ears. Her scleroses were colored bright gold with flecks of a lighter topaz while slitted irises as she gazed down at the only living creature in this filthy place. Her skin drank in the cardinal dye, all the way past her waist to the tips of her toes. Her spaded tail, cherry red like the rest of her body, swished behind her like a tigress stalking her prey as she stepped forward. Though her feet were bare, there was not a speck of dust or an inch of dirt there, or indeed, on any part of her at all.

"Well, what do we have here?" The Succubus' voice was a low purr, the echos behind every sentence trailing off into a coy seduction; a sweet concoction offered and served only to those who dared summon her, especially so eagerly and greedily. Her heavy breasts, bare to the world swung low as she leaned forward. Her eyes widened as she took in the human's appearance. Dark hair like hers, but the girl's gaze burned with cool fire, a shocking spark of blue to collide with the Succubus' own color. She noted the blood pooling on the ground, staining the wood with the very same life force Rayvnelle had drank so readily. It was a waste, truly. The creature's hand reached up, licking the tips of her index then middle finger, her forked tongue slipping through the gaps oh-so briefly as she considered her situation. She knew that she could not stay long in this Realm unless she partook in the blood and flesh of her Summoner, lest she be forever chained to the girl and her petty orders.

Rayvnelle allowed habit to take full control as she inclined forward even further, the very same finger that had been running along her sharpened teeth reaching forward to tilt the other female's chin upwards so that the Succubus may look and memorize her features. "Are you she who requires my services?" Again, Rayvnelle spoke with an exotic rumble tainted with ruined whispers, this time the sound seeping and coiling directly towards the girl's ears. She smiled, the expression surprisingly sweet for one that swam in a cesspool of daemonic blood. "Are you she who desires me?"

 

[Alazaria]

The mist spun; woven an accretion disc might herald the birth of a new star. The mist collapsing in upon itself; molding to a central, distinctly feminine figure as the rest was cast off into the starry night. Dispelled together the veil pulled over her eyes. As the Sorceress saw clearly for the first time since her nightmares began.

Sapphires trailed along the image of perfection before her. Its already natural beauty only accentuated by the moisture clinging upon its supple form. The monstrous features not only failing to detract from its radiance, but advancing how regal it seemed as it stood head and shoulders above the Sorceress. She found herself gazing upon perfection. An image without fault that seemed, somehow, familiar. The unnatural breeze summoned forth by the formation of the creature standing before her had calmed down, plunging the pair into a complete silence beyond the beat of her heart.

The hand drew closer; the sensuality and fluidity of the Succubus’ motions concealed her intentions just long enough for her to have closed the distance. Not even realizing the daemonic proximity until it spoke. Her eyes darting to meet the topaz rings staring right back into her own with such burning intensity.

Are you she who requires my services…?

She lowered her head in confirmation, lengthy onyx strands cascading past her shoulders; unable to glance away from the hypnotic golden orbs gazing into her very soul. Where had she seen that pair of alluring spheres…?

Are you the one who-

The flirtatious tone embellishing its words, tempted regardless of content. The ambrosia lingering upon every syllable pulled upon the Sorceress’ wavering spirit.

…desires…

Taunting her. /Haunting/ her. The Sorceress raised her hand to try and push away the claws that sought to cup her chin; wincing as the textured skin agitated her self-inflicted wound. Digits hanging loosely upon surprisingly lithe wrist.

“Yes…”

The breathy voice that answered the Succubus’ inquiry was not one Symphonia immediately identified as her own.

“I am she who brought you into our world- “

She trailed off in the middle of what she had intended to be a declaration of victory when the question lingering upon the edge of her subconscious surfaced. Why? Why /had/ she summoned the creature. She had felt what could only be considered a compulsion, realizing only now that she had never consciously decided the need to bring forth a familiar… especially one such as this. Her eyes widened with recognition as the last prominent word uttered by the Succubus continued to resonate in her mind as it had so many times before.

“You!”

She started; the click of her stiletto as she stepped back punctuating her words.

“…In my dreams.”

Her sudden epiphanies. Her ability to perfectly draw out runes belonging to a language long lost to all but the most powerful of magi. The idea implanted in her mind; the seedlings cultivated painstakingly slowly to the point where she hadn’t even noticed the tampering. But how? The mass rift! The Sorceress grasped the Succubus’ arm tighter, fighting through the streak of pain that shot through her arm. It couldn’t be that this creature had been manipulating her this entire time. The rage building within her was laced with the same compulsion that afflicted her so. A name buried in her subconscious surfaced and her lips parted without thought.

“…Rayvnelle.”

 

[darjeeling]

Her grip was as gentle as butter but firm as iron as the young Summoner rebelled against her touch, despite her uttered words and raspy tone. Rayvnelle could barely feel the woman's grip on her wrist, only a searing warmth that replaced what should have been a manifestation of the physical. A heat bubbled within her, her blood thicker than it had ever been before as the Succubus inhaled deeply at the woman's confession. Like a priest behind a confessional boost, she listened as if it were a sin though it was a sin she reveled in. A smile cracked her perfectly sculpted lips, almost amused at the sudden change in tune. The warmth fluttered like an injured bird as the Summoner flew back though it seemed her hands could not, or would not, be removed from the Succubus' arm.

"Dreams are a mere flight of fancy." Rayvnelle scoffed, her midnight-black ringlets bouncing against her breasts as she straightened herself once more. Indeed, she recalled something of the sort. Despite being disconnected from the Others and from herself, her mental capacity was what made her so self aware. Perhaps it had been the same for the rest of her brethren, though they were no longer of any concern. The girl's voice was unfamiliar, yet her touch sent sparks of familiarity burning through her, the strength of it just so to almost force the Succubus to bow but Rayvnelle was much too proud to ever consider it. She had wriggled her way into the consciousness of any individual that had dared to slip through the cracks, sometimes unintentionally. It was not a strange occurrence that a human would dare to dabble with the darker arts but it appeared to the Succubus that the woman before her had no idea.

Rayvnelle licked her fingers again, sweeping away the sweat and blood from the tips of her digits with an almost orgasmic shudder rippling through her salacious frame. With her Summoner's touch still grasping at her, she felt grounded to this World. As the woman spoke her name, the name she did not know she had until she took her first breath in this plane of existence, her smile only widened. Her fangs gleamed brightly as she chuckled. "That is I," the woman in red proclaimed as her other arm, free from any human captor or otherwise, slid forth to wrap itself smoothly around the Summoner's waist, caring not for any sort of exclamation against her actions. Her tail flickered behind her like a looming serpent as Rayvnelle dragged the woman towards her.

"To whom do I have the pleasure?" The Succubus purred, leaning and almost looming over the smaller woman with an aura that seemed to exude nothing but power and confidence. Her lips brushed against the Summoner's, knowing well that while the girl could run, it would be difficult considering the Succubus' paralyzing gaze. Her eyes seemed to glow a molten gold, her words sliding smoothly against the Summoner's mouth as Rayvnelle kept her there, tantalizing and teasing. "I require a name so that I may thank her appropriately."

 

[Alazaria]

The way the Succubus simply disregarded her concerns. Showing neither remorse nor even pride in having done so sent a spark of irritation through the Sorceress. As if the manipulation carried out over such a long time was a perfectly natural thing to do. The nonchalance it displayed despite the girl having unwittingly obeyed this creature to such an extreme. Yet, despite it all, Symphonia found it hard preserve the flicker of rage. The spark of resistance that built within quelled in the face of such a radiant beauty.

Whatever train of thought she had attempted to pursue was quelled as Rayynelle cleansed her digits. Watching as those lips parted and her tongue snaked out and slid along her tender flesh. The glimpse of sharpened teeth followed by the sensual shudder; the crimson clad girl’s lips parting as just barely caught herself mimicking what she thought might be an accompany moan of pleasure. The blush intensifying upon her cheeks as her peripheral vision caught the way those sensual orbs heaved. The scandalous, bare form presented before her. The teeth she could picturing sinking into her flesh-

The sensuality of the daemon’s actions effortlessly dismantled her mental guards, not even having noted the extending hand until far too late. A flutter of robes and click of heels left her with no distance at all from the sight standing before her; finding herself pressed up against the very creature she had, up until then, been admiring. She was far from inexperienced with matters as these, but the heat of the creature’s bare skin upon her own threatened to dye her features a shade matching the Succubus’ tinted skin. Looking up towards the mesmerizing stare, pulling away halfheartedly as her free hand came to rest upon the creature’s arm. Symphonia’s chest fitting not quite just below the Succubus; resulting in quite the lewd display the mounds pressed together and pushed the demoness’ already impressive cleavage even further up. Positioned as if in an indecent waltz with what was supposed to be her servant; her garments absorbing some of the moisture lingering upon the warm skin and clinging even more tightly against her own.

“Symphonia…”

The girl responded; finding herself breathless as her mind seemed to clear of any higher order thoughts. Lips quivering as the Sorceress seemed unable to refrain from attempting to seek out those belonging to her servant. Symphonia’s lithe form relaxing with every passing second. The Succubus’ suggestion growing ever more appealing as worries and concerns seemed to slip out of her mind… taking a step forward; her leg parting the daemon’s- the material of her skirt riding ever higher and exposing salacious hints of creamy thigh.

 

[darjeeling]

"Symphonia." Rayvnelle repeated, her voice as smooth as velvet now and dripping in honeyed warmth as she savored the name upon her tongue. It flowed much like how she thought it would be, the woman's presence acting as a catalyst for her existence and her name being that much closer to being a familiar curse. She felt as if she had known it all along, as if Symphonia was the only true word she should have considered. Rayvnelle felt foolish for asking, but was delighted to know it now. It would not be a name she would forget so soon, but by the way the woman was practically melting in her arms, she doubted that her own title would be brushed off. A coy smirk flickered, ruby-reds curving and unnoticeable, as close as she was to the summoner.

"Symphonia." She said again, her mouth brushing against the woman's lips, a kiss most bare as she pushed her summoner away, missing the heat before she followed as quickly as she had left, pressing her up against the crumbling, unstable wall. Her tail flickered up, arching behind her as the prehensile appendage twisted around, the surprisingly sharp point slicing a thin, red line on the woman's bare thigh. The wound wept pure blood, staining the smooth pale thigh with the crimson of life as her tail swept it up, almost as if absorbing the taste into the spaded end. In truth, that was exactly what was occurring. The Succubus almost groaned in delight as the inferno within her flared and if she could blush, she would have done so most readily.

Instead, Rayvnelle bit down on Symphonia's lower lip aggressively, her fangs almost piercing the plump flesh though the Succubus was not yet ready to feast on her. There were still some much needed preparation if the meal was to be most delectable and considering it would be her very first, she wanted it to be as enjoyable for the other as it was for her. With that in mind, her tail continued to brush up against the woman's inner thigh, nicking the flesh here and there though never too rough as her tongue ran along the indents her sharp teeth had made. Rayvnelle was beyond words now as her arms wrapped around the woman's waist, her claws pressing against the small of her back as she arched Symphonia forward.

Her mouth found the young woman's throbbing pulse at her neck, the Succubus instantly attacking the vein with possessive nibbles, sucking at the flesh to bruise it further and mark the woman as hers. After all, who else would be so kind to draw her to this realm if not to be taken by the creature they had called upon? She grinned against the other's skin at the thought. Her tongue slipped out to soothe the wounds once she was done with it, but never did she let the woman breathe. Her nails raked against the female's clothed back, all but tearing at the fabric to skim her sharp digits against the delicate flesh beneath.