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Rush Revel [Fin] Read 9744 times

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #120 on: July 08, 2017, 01:26:25 am »
Dae found that he remembered Sugar's words rather than hear them. He was too occupied with the breathing things that now lived and gave from the gyre on Poppy's skin. He'd made it, and now he lost his tongue and teeth to it. Lower, she was being resourceful for her own sake, but it reverberated into him like pleasure, all the same. He could choose the angles, after all, and her part in their exchange was expertly executed. The king was a bit rougher with her when the pale guest left - seems they had the same idea - rough with his conventional intimacy, mostly, because his jaws were still tender, if that act could be. Teeth generally don't need to sign their importance in violence, since they are made for nothing else.

He didn't think of healing the pretty thing that had stood at the threshold on one of his bases this morning. She was best like this, colored the same heat as her heart and sharing this abandon with him. It made his throat furious without upsetting him. Still that melody of an angry animal every time he bit. It was quieter when they took their conclusion together, but it was farther strung, which made it darker. He thought of it then, the angel's water, when he carefully tended to the glistening patterns he'd opened on fine shoulder blades.

Still a bit of Fox or creature in him when he turned her, when they were done, skillfully keeping them joined to have her sit against him like before, so her naked sinew wouldn't touch the worn furniture. Gentleman beast. He thought there might have been something lacking in her conviction when she spoke last, which was only fair, since he'd been something he meant to swear off, with her. Dae examined her face with three fingers that were understandably painted. "Then we'll teach." he promised, because that meant she wasn't going to leave him alone. Perhaps this was her best way of inviting him to more of her life. This brother, maybe the King owed him for putting Poppy where she was.

"But first other things." he said.

Sugar had been right. It would seem Poppy took to the angel water better than most. How practical. Was it her will that made it so? It was too convenient that someone who held the hunger so far from herself would benefit so well from its fruits. Or maybe that was her talent. It was not a waste, Dae thought, because that built her so he might think to have her again. It was laughable that he'd feel that way, like he was in the beginning stages of crimson maturity instead of beyond it completely. If Poppy was an enemy, she was a well assembled one. But she'd not come for his demise.

"So you'll come to this kingdom." he meant the old office building, and he meant everything around it that was touched and inhabited by the hunger. "Where you and I tutor you brother in control." even when he's not with us. "And at the same time uphold your own world?" Of people who collect numbers so that they will never run out, lifetimes from now. It is tradition for formidable people to excel in all their fields, but he'd rather see her shed all things that didn't fit into the Carnival. He couldn't help but hope she'd be glorious, then. The cotton he applied the water with was spoiling the shrinking mar. Her spine was beautiful even when it wasn't a river. "I don't see it, Poppy Price." teasing, perhaps. "But you're welcome here whenever you come."

What quaint moment after their tight tumult. Just like animals go from one agenda to the next. He was happy she could match him, if she would. "So tell me of your other ambitions." that aren't about your brother, and drawing pleasure for yourself even when you're pinned. She knew of Dae's of course, which was to simply add another acceptable spectacle to this world by painting it in his color. And now this between them, whatever it would grow into. He smiled to himself when he lifted the dab from the center of the circles he'd drawn. She looked burnt by the sun, deeply red, almost peeled, but there was no blood left, and the even the color would fade into porcelain surface. Daedalus, he was, after all. Remarkable, how her body wanted her back. He'd deliberately neglected the little cut on her hand.

-

Armand stood there at last, hot cotton in his hand, and saw the inconsistencies in its color. She'd been so lovely producing them for him, and even better misunderstanding their fate. He held the gift tight and listened to her dream verbally of Dion again as he took the hand back, and hid it in his pocket before it came out empty. That single thing was now the most expensive thing he owned, because it had cost him a decent connection with his deepest crush, even if he'd argue that the Price bastard was to blame, and not his own decisions.

He would have lost limbs to know Phae's skirt was the only thing between her and the outer world, even now he wondered if he could charm her close so that kind of secret would be relevant, but he'd made it happen by tugging at her heart by relaying the strings. Now it was only a mouthwatering fact he could think of at the cost of his own light. "But you could now?" he asked, have feelings, and the hope on his meter wasn't acted, even if it had a separate purpose. Better she think he was still about honoring their terms while wishing for her favor. He wouldn't protest if she lost herself to him in an unguarded stretch of this endeavor. It might even be the quiet revenge and reward that would take him out of this course. But without that, he'd rather have Dion's suffering.

"I want to be your friend too." he said and went to her quickly, hugging her. It was easy, this new bond, because he could excuse all his weaknesses as a charade. She could spread her sympathy as she liked to, and he could bask in it without feeling he'd lost. All of this, and he still felt defeated before he'd fought. It was unforgivable, the world Dion was allowed to live in. "You have to understand this is all hard for me, accepting what I know, after all the things I've been taught growing up." it was a passable thing for someone to say if they were coming around to her view, wasn't it? Yet, all he really planned to do was torture the hungry for sport, and Dionysus for art. But Phaedra had to be innocent. He'd fight for that, too. "Will you forgive me for what I've done today? You always seem so full of forgiveness."

He wouldn't mind walking her out of the unfinished place, and be seen with her after he'd helped her with her collars, and put her hair back in place. The thing he'd planned, maybe he'd leave a few strands for the wind, so that the gossipers could see.

-

Dion had found an unlit road and was sure he was exactly in the middle of it, with only the bike and its heat as company at the roadside. It had been idyllic for a few hours ago, but now it was turning sinister, like the oldest trap by the oldest ghosts. It was fitting, the way he felt. Sugar's signal lit up the gloom that was barely touched by city expansion. He looked at the screen and was reminded of how everything was disgusting if it didn't have a certain someone's aroma.

Fuck off you filthy ragdoll of a whor_

He smiled to himself instead of finishing and sending the abuse off. This was Dulcinea, delicacy of the underworld. This was Sugar, the belle of fucking red ball. He wiped his lower lip of frustration and sat up straighter in the grass.

She was alright. How are you? Feeling we should meet again. I'll be more fun. We're friends now, aren't we?

He did send that off, instead. He found himself linked to Sugar more than he'd care to admit. But she was very close to the cleanest connection he had to this new vault of sensations. Not a bridge, not entirely, but a rail along the way. With tetanus in its rust and poison in its edges. Tonight he would try to see if she was any good as a bandage for this new thing that hurt him. He remembered her flavor, and it should be just the medicine for the abominable state of his palled.

VenomousEve

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #121 on: July 11, 2017, 05:38:45 am »
Poppy was profoundly aware of her body when they were alone. Certainly, the deeper caverns Dae’s teeth were digging insisted upon it. Languid in their aftermath, which was jarringly intimate. It was a wonder she did not blush when he turned her. But Poppy was not ashamed and she did not believe anyone was out of her reach. She would not be starry-eyed, which was a peculiar and lovely sort of agency. It was a bit crude that they contemplated her brother’s future, still clasped so near and wearing the drying stiffness of their voracious explorations.

“You and I don’t speak the same language out of convenience, don’t we?” she hummed, taking the liberty of nipping at his lip. Had his mouth been unbloodied, it might have been the affection of a familiar lover. “My brother needs discipline, not temptation. Do you suppose we teach the same way?” Poppy sighed. “But I think you’re right, I should learn more if I’m going to be fair.” She did fancy herself a fair and just ruler; Poppy would have been horrified if she knew the way her tiny kingdom was slipping. Dion to a frantic addiction and Phaedra to the plummet of deception. And she, herself, had taken interest in a king.

Caspian did not come to mind. Later, she might glance through her phone history and put aside whatever guilt formed for the next day. Poppy had never cared less for the ramifications of her actions than she seemed to now. If she’d had her brother’s abandon, she would have been a force of nature.

She didn’t understand what he poured over her back, or why the ache of what he’d taken subsided so quickly. Poppy reached to run her fingers over her own shoulder blades, and her lips parted with an unvoiced question. A cure like this could revolutionize the world. Dae could be an icon, a billionaire. Still, she didn’t ask. As if she’d cared about offending him before. It felt contrary to his spell to pry into the sources of his wily tricks. Instead, she smiled gratefully and rummaged for her blouse.

“You’re an interesting man, Daedalus the Fox King.” She ran her thumb over the cut he’d left on her hand. “I’m sure you’ll see me again. We’ve not concluded our negotiations anyhow, it seems.” She said, and it was both true and a testament to her insistence on having her way, regardless the distraction. Poppy tucked a few strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “I hope we’ll reach a fully satisfactory understanding, eventually.” She said, and it was hard to convince herself she was thinking of Dion still.

--

Phaedra tried to return Armand’s embrace, but it was still stiff. It was the sort of reaction that suited her, shy and unacquainted with forward affection, but lingered like a slap in the face when she’d bared herself so eagerly to Dion. It was a peculiar and cruel duality that she nearly recognized in herself, but Armand’s transgressions outweighed her own to a heart so thoroughly  given to the Price prince.

“I can’t forgive you yet,” she said honestly. It wasn’t a threat, because Phaedra didn’t have it in her to threaten, but it was a tart sort of promise. She didn’t trust the boy that had threatened her love, but she was willing to play this bargain. She had been deceived, but she wasn’t as gullible as she’d been even a day before. Dion had shown her his teeth, which meant every other man must be less innocent. “But I’ll try to understand, the same way you’re trying to understand.” She said. It was too polite, but she kissed his cheek chastely and it seemed appropriately sincere. Her honesty would be her downfall, one way or another.

--

Sugar smirked at Dion’s reply. Cocky bastard, as usual. She could only assume the little rabbit had survived the ordeal, or Dion was a more heartless creature than she’d imagined.

We’re friends now? Aren’t I special. I can be wherever there’s more fun.

But she’d wanted his ego, she supposed. She’d gone looking for it. She touched her sleeve where Hane had left a red mark. Surely Dion would be more exciting than that boy, at least. The address she was sent took her to the city apartment Dion had whisked Phae to the night before. She arrived before he did, and it was some curious serendipity that she had already been so near. Sugar wondered if she should tell Deerest his sister was entertaining a Fox just three blocks away. It was almost laughable, the fall of the Price children. She sat by the door, chin propped on one knee, and stared up at Dion through her pale lashes when he arrived.

“What, pray tell, is the definition of fun to a spoiled brat like you?” she asked. 

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #122 on: July 11, 2017, 09:48:24 am »
Dae didn’t know Poppy too well, and he took care to be careful not to paint her in colors he preferred. Still, there was something in him that understood she would be endlessly more of an adversary if she was not enjoying herself, just a little. The thrumming aura and its escapees, he could read, at least, and she had a bustling sort, like the hardest crystal formations in nature, but with inherent, growing cracks. Daedalus believed in the hunger. So he’d be an indulgent father then, when they lead her brother, while she would be her stern, unforgiving self. He looked forward to this dynamic. Especially to Poppy’s idea of fair.

She was lovely when she wondered about the elixir. What would happen when Poppy discovered the myriad of miracles that ran through some of the bloodied bloodlines? His angel of salts was of course a favorite of his. A neat party trick. He did not think that Poppy had thoughts of industrial expansion. Today the Fox was more romantic than the princess.

It had not been a wasted day, or wasted skin, the way Poppy went on. He’d get more meetings with her, and he’d bought the boy she tried to control a little more time in the parlors he provided. “I am always available to negotiate, Poppy Price.” He said and helped her on with her blouse over the red mark. How tender they were. He would liken it to grooming a wild tigress in a good mood. Of course, being mauled was never his greatest fear, but then, animals knew better of the carnival. He reached to touch her temple and then treated himself to a long stroke of his palm down her cheek. They bit, they’d kissed, and he thought this caress was the most affectionate he’d been with her. With anyone. He looked at the mark he’d saved, and hoped he’d see some of it next time too, on her hand. It’d be fortunate for her if she was a fast healer, but what a waste.

They were leaving just as two came in with buckets of the potion that had shut her wound. The first scoop woke Hane up, and then they started bathing him. There was confusion in his eyes and a name on his groans. Dae smiled.

Well in the car, after he’d opened the door for her, and sat down close, he took her phone. “This song.” He said as he put it in her musical inventory. “When a venue plays it, I am likely to be close.” Even for some time after. It wasn’t available for purchase, and perhaps that was a good thing, since the hungry knew it from the depths of their free activities, and it would trigger a palpable desire to be themselves. He patted Danny’s shoulder from behind. “This good man will know where it’s played and when.” And that was how much Dae cared for Poppy, to fold this provider into it all, too.

Danny would know to take them back where they’d come from. Dae didn’t suppose Poppy would like to be seen with the likes of himself too close to her glass and concrete court. He had confidence enough in their bond to lean in as Danny turned out to the road, to lean in close and whisper with predatory breath and lover’s lilt “We mustn’t be done anytime soon, Poppy Price. I’ve not nearly had enough of you.”

How scandalous, King.

-

Armand would have found the hug sweet, his shy little idol, tensing for even this much, little walls for him to tear down so she would eventually be softer around him, only him. But she’d already been all that and more with Dionysus. Marks on her body, marks on her underwear. He held her tighter and it was to punish her, but he let go before the vice of his embrace could get to her lungs. Still, frustration was spoken loudly for a small instance against her.

He’d meant to show himself as patient man when he asked for forgiveness. The sentiment itself should stand as proof, not as the question it posed as. And she only heard it as it had been presented, of course. It made him want to rap her on her cheek. She’d respond beautifully, he was sure. But he made no such motion, and nodded slowly. “I hope you will understand.” Even if I have every right to your forgiveness. He even though her adorations wouldn’t be out of place. Armand was more fitting for her than Dion, and she should see that too. Who dreams of a brute like that? Arman missed that it was his own appeal with his dalliances so far. How many had put green eyes on him when he didn’t know, though?

He did take the peck, and sighed at the carefulness of it. It satisfied for a little while, and then frustration burnt brighter. With some efficiency he corrected her clothes. Armand knew perfectly how to set them in place, how Phaedra usually looked. How she should look. He decided on their exit. She had no choice in the matter. He’d not leave without her and she wasn’t allowed to go before him. If she wouldn’t take his hand that would be alright, but he would lead her out of the tarp. She’d armed him with knowledge, and something that would serve as a powerful message for Dion. Maybe he’d steal some moment alone with the rumpled treasure, too. Ah, what a rush it was to have her by his side in the open, knowing a gust of wind could reveal her to the world. Little Phae, who was still who she’d always been to him, but somehow closer now.

-

He had stood outside, balancing the bike and looking up at the apartment. Fateful place. Maybe this could be a good refuge, if he could afford the fuel. The summer house was a compendium of ghosts, anyway. Ah, but he needed the sea, the way he felt. For something to ruthless, it wasn’t bloody very often. He went up eventually, his adventures of today clinging to him and making him a formidable silhouette in the limited neon spill through the windows in the corridor. In the end he stood over her, helmet hanging in his fingers. She looked pretty like that, a head on a leg.

“I’m of modest tastes. I like my fun motherless.” He said, and the helmet fell to make a sound in their privacy. He lifted her with some of the violence he wanted her to have for what she’d taken from Phae. But he didn’t hold her to the door all too harshly. He made sure she had her legs around him, whether he had to tie them with meaning hands or simply push his stomach to her crotch while he took off his riding gloves. “Let’s stay in. Food’s good inside.” He said as he kept her in place with his pressure, one hand hanging for the aesthetic, and the other unlocking with a silver song.

He took her chin and turned her head in different directions, fingers teasing with bruising intrusion. He had darkness in his intention. He should really just have her here, but he was afraid that even Sugar might be rank inside. What hope did Phaedra have then? The door would open and he would push her in. Locking a door with its latches from the inside is useless for keeping someone trapped, but it makes for a good announcement. He took his jacket off and wiped his chin, a gesture of frustration, challenge.

“Take off your clothes please. Don’t worry about cleaning yourself up, I’m not too fond of this interior.” Because it wouldn’t be Dionysus Price if there wasn’t a bit of hubris. It was his way of asking, wasn’t it? He had his shirt off soon. It had worked wonders with Phaedra. He didn’t suppose Sugar would play that role very well here, even if she stood on Phae’s places. “Can I fuck you up a little, Dulcinea?” romantic, in the dark. And nice too, how it had been expressed as a question. This was not Hane.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #123 on: July 13, 2017, 06:03:24 am »
Danny didn’t say much, but went along with the things Dae asked for because it was courtesy. A small syndicate flattering the mob. He had come back because Agnes had been a short distraction for Dion. Glancing in the rearview mirror at Poppy, he thought the twins were diving into a world they didn’t know with an absurd confidence. It suited the Price children though, Danny just didn’t know it.

Poppy listened to the song carefully, as if she was concerned she might not recognize it again. It was endearing, the way girls her age ought to be endearing, and very different from the woman who’d writhed on that vintage couch. She seemed reticent for the meeting to end, when they got out of the car. “I’ll be seeing you around,” she said to Danny as she stepped out. Because you know where I can find this Fox when I want him. A careful smile. Danny waved her off. Another soul sucked into this ridiculous and bloody labyrinth. She seemed more present than most, though. More present than her brother, even. Danny thought it might be good for her, if she intended to dance with the King. He wanted to tell her she should think carefully, but the set of her shoulders told him it wouldn’t matter. Danny nodded at Dae before he drove off, and then the old car sputtered off down the road.

“I know. I think you won’t have to worry.” She said to Dae, leaning in as if to meet his inclination. Poppy was close enough that her lashes brushed his face, a parting touch, and then she stood a bit straighter and shrugged. It was something of a jest then. “I haven’t reached a satisfactory conclusion with you anyhow, Mister Fox King.” She said reasonably. Because he’d been more than satisfactory but it hadn’t been enough. A little of his beloved Hunger winked in her green eyes and she wiped her lips neatly with the back of her hand, where he’d left his little red signature. She waved over her shoulder when she turned to go.

“Thank you for seeing me. I’m encouraged that we both care a good deal about my darling brother’s fate.” She said as she left. Puppet strings had always been an aphrodisiac for the elder Price sibling, and she was intrigued to have met another puppeteer with a different tune. It put a pretty sway in her walk, and she was very aware of Dae’s gaze until she disappeared into the back of a taxi cab, fingers brushing the place where her button was missing on her blouse.

--

Phaedra felt dizzy and nauseous when she allowed Armand to lead her from the half-finished library. She didn’t know what to do as a more keen awareness of her situation settled over her in this brief aftermath. If she hadn’t yet come to understand the gravity of her place in Dion’s story, she did see the formidable future stretching before her. Armand, who had her in his grasp more than she had him in hers, and Dion, who loved her loosely. She was desperate to see Dion again, so that he could remove the linger of Armand’s touch, his ambitious gaze, from her skin. Perhaps, also, he could reconstruct the fantasy that had propelled her this far.

When Phae awkwardly waved goodbye and watched Armand go, she understood a small amount of Dion’s violent potential. She hadn’t had an application for it before, allowing it morph and twist into a more palatable, carnal desire. Now, as she stared at Armand’s back—he was a handsome boy—she wondered if Dion might beat him bloody for the sake of her honor, strip the skin from his bones with his carnivore teeth. She touched her chest, over her heart, and turned away. She wondered if she had found her way here on her own. She could not find an answer that did not frighten her.

--

Sugar bit her tongue when he pulled her up, jolting motion, and tasted her own blood. It was sweet, and she grinned, red on her teeth. She hooked her legs around his waist without need for much persuasion. “You’re in luck, I suppose.” She hummed, leaning her head back against the door so that she was staring up at the ceiling with her blood orange eyes. She felt the door move behind her, and she and Deerest with it. His hand on her chin was a familiar sentiment with a different flavor. The door swung open fully and the wood floor was harsh on her back when he pushed her in. It made her laugh.

“What are you so frustrated over, Deer?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “Unsatisfied? I know the feeling.” She tossed a cropped lock of blonde hair out of her face. Her eyes were sparkling. There were a lot of forms of worship. She’d learned that much today, watching the King and his new priestess. It made her smile wider. Dion, Deerest, Dulcinea’s been with your Phaedra and entertained your sister.

She sighed when he retreated into his familiar ego and inclined her head. “You can try, I suppose.” Sharp teeth. He’d be sharing too, certainly. He’d tossed her to the ground and yet she was staring up at him like she’d intended to be there all along, stalking the low shadows. She pursed her lips. “I’m not your little rabbit though. Don’t insult me by hoping.” Sugar said. “Or her.” And it was true that Dion had been unfair to loyal Phae, to believe he could find a substitute.

She picked herself off the floor and twirled on one heel, shedding her skirt as she did. It became a mocking sort of tease, pale skin a harsh contrast in the dim apartment. It suited her. Sugar had certainly never entertained the idea of worrying for his furniture, her clothes scattering. “She asked me to help her, you know. I feel like I should be giving you more trouble.”