Re: A Moving Target

Tue Mar 11, 2014 12:54 pm

When this time she blushed, as a direct result of his actions, he noticed. It was hard to explain why he hadn't noticed before. Putting two and two together was not his strong-point, and up until then, her actions had been an array of random interactions that held no real order to them. But when she turned a deep red at his actions, actions that she had only recently done towards him, he pieced things together. His legs stopped their nonchalant dangling and stood still when the possibility dawned on him. Well that's a first. At that point he just hoped she didn't chop off a finger, with the way she went about chopping things up to hide her embarrassment.

But it didn't take long for the subtle undertones of his words to catch on. And what he might have hoped was lost in translation was instead the flashing red light in what he said, and she picked up on it. Of course she'd want to pick at it, pull it open and see the terrible insides of what he had tried to hide. All people were curious by nature, and only complacency or fear made them otherwise. As the food was waiting to be cooked upon the stove a silence took control of the kitchen that goaded him to tell her the truth. He wanted to see how she would react.

I've send the heads of children to their mothers, he wanted to say.

His elbows pressed against his thighs as he leaned forward, the dark red tendrils of his hair now a drape about his face like a veil on a mourning widow. He had sold his soul for a chance to survive, after-all. The alternative was to be broken down and killed by the tides and currents of the world. He couldn't keel over and die just yet. Not before he found his mother. "I've hurt people." The golden hues of his eyes stayed focused on the floor below. Then he looked straight ahead, at the other parts of her kitchen, as if to avoid eye contact with her. "People that really shouldn't have gotten hurt." Does the soldier stop to look down at the canon in his hand? Or was it a sin for the killer to be a thinker?

When he had been in the midst of all the murder, it felt natural. But now, caught up in the suffocating peace-time feeling of Kumogakure, his time as a mercenary felt like another life. It all felt like a distant memory of his last incarnation but the warm feeling of blood on his hands was not a sensation that his skin had forgotten.

"Hope I don't scare you."

Tue Mar 11, 2014 1:07 pm

Megami looked down at her feet, too anxious to make eye contact with him at that moment in time. It was not that she was afraid of him, nay she was very much comfortable with him as a person. He had done nothing throughout her experiences with him but protect her and for that she could not be grateful enough. However, she couldn't help but feel this overwhelming darkness take hold of her, a darkness radiating from the man whom stood before her. The way he spoke... She understood immediately what he was saying, the words that had left his mouth. At least, she believed she understood. Though truly understanding and the illusion of understanding were two completely different things.

She bit her bottom lip once more, frustrated with herself at how she hadn't seen it sooner. How she hadn't been able to realize it. How she had been so unable to comfort him and help him. She took a step closer to him and took his right hand in the palms of hers, his own palm facing the roof as she brushed it slowly with her gentle, nimble fingers. She wasn't going to let him scare her nor was she going to make him feel like an outcast. She herself had already logically implanted in her own mine the idea that because her family had done little to nothing to be there for him back then (at least that was her recollection of it, not that they had caused it all.) it was, by allowing such evil, her own evil to bear. The allowance of sin of another was a sin of the enabler, after all.

She sighed as she just held his hand in silence for a few brief moments before finally opening her mouth, no words leaving it at first but soon she was able to make an utterance of sorts. "It's okay, Asura. Truly, it is... You don't scare me nor are you the first to hurt others. Far from it." she whispered, wondering where to go from there. She decided to simply proceed with the words her mind was feeding her mouth, allowing the sentences to escape her apricot lips. "If it helps... I don't blame you. I can't blame you. I was never there for you like I should have been. The way you were there for me. Yes, I was so young but still... I should have noticed and I should have done something..." she broke off into a mumble near the end of her words, not sure whether to speak up or what.

She sighed, still convinced that he was withholding information from her. Vital information. She wasn't sure whether to proceed to prod him to tell her or to leave things as they were. She wanted to know so that she could try to help but she wasn't sure if she even could help. All she knew was that she wanted to know everything and every detail of such things. She heard the stew boiling and understood that it was far from finished cooking. They still had time to talk until it would be finished. She sighed and brushed his hand and pulled it up to the center of her chest, allowing him to feel her heart beating through her skin. "Would you stop the beating of my heart? That is all I need to know... Would you take my life and not think back on it?"

Tue Mar 11, 2014 3:04 pm

Was that pity he detected? When her fingers traced indecipherable patterns along the skin of his palm, he watched the lines she drew, seeing them form nothing yet form it irregardless. It was a trance-like state, and for a moment the image of his mother flashed before his eyes. It was an odd time for it to show up, but anyone with a bit more insight into his mind could perhaps explain this feeling. It felt like acceptance. He was so used to spurn that the lack of it felt foreign. Everywhere he went, his name carried with it a black mark. Everywhere except-

She placed his hand on her chest.

Compelled to his feet, he propped himself off of the counter. While his right hand rested on the faint thumps of her heart, his left wrapped around her waist and turned her so that she was the one against the counter, and he was before her. What an odd question, he thought. It was possible that the weight of her train of thought was lost on him, and that he couldn't comprehend why she had asked specifically about him and her. It wouldn't be surprising for something like that to go right over his head. But when he closed the distance between them with eyes that clung to her trust, he gave off the impression that maybe he did know what she meant. "You're different," he spoke, in something barely beyond a whisper. His face was close to hers, with the bubbling sigh of the boiling stew in the background. He wanted to kiss her. It was a stupid impulse, the result of the setting and the spar and the blood and the words, but a strong one regardless. But he knew his place. So he stopped, his face close to hers, reserved to just watch her in his questioning sort of gaze.

"But why is that all you need to know?"

The palm he had placed on her chest turned into a single index finger, drawing patterns on her the same way she had on his palm. In fact, they were the very same shapes. The small tug he gave to the top of her armor betrayed that he wanted to take it off, but he did not. Contained by his own reservations, Asura tilted his head like one investigating a foreign phenomenon. "Doesn't the rest of it matter?"

Tue Mar 11, 2014 3:21 pm

Megami was taken by surprise as she was now between him and the counter, her small slender body easily fitting in the space between. She couldn't help but move back a little, nervousness taking hold as she felt herself pressed against the counter, her eyes examining his facial expressions in an attempt to read into what he was saying, trying to comprehend what he meant. She was different? So he had killed someone before? She had, in fact, stopped someone's heart from beating any longer? It was odd but Megami did not feel any fear. Merely empathetic feelings and feelings of care. She didn't want him to go through such traumatic situations but she had been so helpless up until this point. All she wanted, from there on out, was to be there for him if nothing else.

"It's not all I want to know... Of course, there's more I want to know and of course there's more that matters but all I need to know is that you wouldn't hurt me. is that not understandable? What I want to know can be discarded as curiosity but what I need to know... It's a prerequisite." she bit her lip when he started tracing circles on her, even going as far as to tug lightly on the breastplate of her armor. She couldn't help but tremble lightly, not out of fear but out of the foreignness of the situation. She almost missed what he wanted. She almost had no clue as to why he had done so. She had caught herself, however. She let out a sigh and looked down, then back up into his eyes.

[color=#cc33ff]"Do... you..." she mumbled, her eyes darting to the side as she tried to make out the words, almost unable to give them form, let alone expel them from her mouth. "Want to... You know..." she went on, reaching her hands around to her back and loosening a few laces and strings that held the metal portions of her garments onto the rest of her clothing, letting it fall to the ground with a gentle sound of light metal hitting the ground. It left only her red and black feathered garments to cover her body, something like a corset and a skirt which in all actuality seemed somewhat thin at that time. Not thin in the sense that it was not very thick but thin in the sense that it provided so little of a barrier. He could just as easily rip off her garments as one would the wrapping of a present or gift.

"Do you want to see me... without my armor?" she asked him, her legs knitting together in the shyness and somewhat awkwardness of the situation. She had completely been oblivious to the fact that perhaps he wanted to see more than just the clothing underneath the armor. Though things such as this were, in their entirety, foreign to her. She was as a saint. An angel, if nothing else. She could hardly dream an impure thought, none-the-less reveal herself of her own accord and thought process. She stepped forward and slowly extended her arms around his neck, pulling herself against him and leaning up to just about his height, though still shorter than he, and kissing him tenderly on the lips. Her smooth lips merged with his, slowly parting them as she kissed the man passionately, pressed against him as close as her small body could get.

Tue Mar 11, 2014 4:01 pm

He caught her falling armor with the bend of his foot, and slid it across the kitchen floor. He had been silent when she undid her breast plate, not sure whether to stop or see where things went, but now that he had slid the armor away, he supposed there was no going back on that. A prerequisite to this?, he wondered almost aloud as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He had not expected her to kiss him, but if being around good can make you better, then it was only reasonable that being around sin can make you a sinner. His tongue played with hers while his eyes closed, and the stew boiled on, unaware of what had overcome its poor little cook. And while his lips were locked onto hers his hand traveled behind her, plucking the ties on her corset like strings on a classical guitar. From top to bottom, each string he undid would loosen the garment of royal red and white.

He should have thought of this as vengeance. This should have been his way of getting back at the Kuraistu name. They exiled him from Noa's orphanage and led him down his path, so like a ghost from the past, he was here to haunt him. Had it been anyone else in her place, in this situation, perhaps the venomous wines of hate would have been stronger. After-all, up until now, hate was the only thing that worked for him. But when he pulled away from her lips, having undone the last of her corset ties, a different sort of poison overtook him. It made him hunger. And a victim to this hunger, he leaned down and dug his face into the crook of her neck. A decade of war had made him aggressive, so while she had chosen to kiss him, he chose to bite back. And with slow, tugging stings along the surface of her skin, his path down her neck and collar were petaled with the red of her skin. Should the corset fall, he would not stop it, his hands busy pressing her to him. Was this a child holding on to something that he feared would slip away? Or was this someone who had finally found something that wanted him, reciprocating in the only way he knew how - carnally?

Coming from the gaps between bites, his words sounded like the intermittent noises of a broken radio. "And it's... not your... fault," He looked up at her for a moment as if to reassure himself that she was still there. He didn't want her pity, because he didn't deserve it. "Nothing that happened to me is your fault." A decade of warfare had not left him a yearning man seeking someone's shoulder to cry on. It was as much a part of him as this growing need inside of him that came unto the world in the form of a quiet growl. It was something sub-human. If her corset had come off, his trail of bite marks would find their way lower, the burning inside of him only growing.

Tue Mar 11, 2014 4:17 pm

Megami was lost in the feelings and emotions that overwhelmed her, closing her eyes as she kissed him back with deep adoration. She had completely neglected her senses, however, and had realized a little late that he was undoing her corset, something she ordinarily would have flipped out at the thought of, but she allowed it to happen. She pulled herself up onto the counter, curling her legs around Asura as if to pull him closer as she reached over and turned down the stove, allowing the stew to simmer as she engaged the man in fun, slowly sliding her hands up underneath his shirt, feeling and gripping his abs as he moved in closer, taking her by surprise when his face became dug into the crook of her neck. She couldn't help but let out a gentle moan as her corset fell to the ground, leaving her in only a skirt, boy-shorts underneath that, and feminine underwear underneath that.

Her moans grew more and more distinctive as he got rough with her neck, the skin of her neck flushing red with a mixture of pain and pleasure that enveloped it. She clung to him more tightly now with both her arms and legs, not wanting the moment to stop any time soon. She looked down his back as her head was rested on his shoulder, allowing him to dig in to her neck like a beast, though she couldn't help but enjoy it. She whispered into his ear between two moans, closing her eyes. "And... It's not your fault..." she whispered, referring to what was going on between them at that exact moment. The cause of what was going on were many and numerous. To pin-point what exactly had driven her to allow such a thing to occur would be borderline impossible.

She leaned in to his neck now, slowly extending her tongue to gently prod the skin of his nape, slowly sliding it up along his jaw and around to his earlobe, kissing it lightly.

Tue Mar 11, 2014 5:11 pm

It was probably a good idea to turn down the heat, there was enough of that steaming up outside of the pot as it were. In a moment, the Demon wouldn't even notice if the stew were to boil over. When her legs wrapped around his waist, he moved closer in compliance. But maybe even leaving the stove on low was a bad idea. He reached for where she had, and turned the thing completely off. He hungered now for something very different, and the stew could wait. Following the lead of her hands, he hurried his shirt away, throwing it as far behind him as he could. His face, however, had reached lower. And when he picked her up off of the counter and into his arms, he made sure that his mouth had gone past her neck, and her collar. So while he carried her over to her dining table, each step he took was denominated by the soft suckling noises he made.

Before laying her down atop the table, he held her there, his head tugging back and forth. Not my fault, he repeated in his mind, as if that were possible. Almost in retaliation to her mercy, he bit and pulled on her left side, then alternated. Wet circles glistened on heaving skin, and the taste that lingered in his mouth was tantalizingly brief. His choices, his responsibility, his burden, he muttered in his mind like a dog that was trained. Each side he went to was speckled with a slow suckle - one, two, one, two - until finally he decided to lay her down on the table. This was punishment for her forgiveness, and retribution for her affections.

Taking a step back he looked down at her, his tongue running over the pearly white face of his teeth. Then, before leaning over onto her, he guided her hands where he needed them to be so that she could unzip and unwind and uncoil, while his lips met with hers again. The conversation that their tongues had within the confines of eachother's mouths was perhaps not the sort of conversation she wanted over the dinner table, but this was the more preferred alternative. With his left hand he held the hem of her shorts and whatever was underneath, and with one rough jerk, he tore them off of her, leaving only the skirt to bear witness.

"Are you sure...?," he managed to say in between the wrestling that their tongues did. He wasn't quite sure what he would do if she said no. But then again, he wasn't quite sure if he could stop himself, if she said yes. An agonizing throb ran through his body, but through some parts more than others, and he ached for her to give him the answer that he wanted.

Tue Mar 11, 2014 5:24 pm

....I'm watching this topic guys... >.> <.<

Tue Mar 11, 2014 5:36 pm

Megami noticed that he had turned off the heat on the stove and allowed him to, realizing that if things continued at this rate it would be best for the stove to be off. She gasped when he took her petite breasts in his mouth, suckling on each one hungrily. She curled one of her hands around the back of his head, urging him to be even more rough than he already was. She enjoyed it, which was evident in the small whimpers and noises she made as he did it. She felt a pang of conviction deep inside her heart but she tried to brush it aside, allowing him to continue.

Everything he was doing to Megami, though quite pleasurable, somehow felt wrong. She had not really conceived the idea of what this all was building up to lead to until she was ravaged and placed on the table, her slender nimble body pressed underneath his own as he attempted to rip off her lower garments underneath her skirt. She sighed and bit her bottom lip, shaking her head and grabbing his hand before it could tug them off to stop him. "No, Asura... I'm sorry... We should stop here..." she whispered, a bit hesitant but realizing it was necessary. She was who she was and she couldn't commit adultery, not when she still had to carry out God's plan.

Megami looked up at him with hopeful eyes, hoping he would understand that it wasn't that she didn't want to but the fact that she was raised this way. She could never have sexual intercourse out of wed-lock, it was a serious sin and if she committed one so great that would make her a false prophet, if anything. She sighed and sat up on the table, her feet dangling off of the edge. "I mean... Just... I've never done this before and I can't... You understand, don't you? It's me. It's what I am. I just can't..." she whispered now, not sure how he would react. Though the Asura she knew would be understanding, but then again, she knew very little of the true Asura. Or, perhaps, she knew more about the true Asura than most by knowing so little.

Tue Mar 11, 2014 6:30 pm

His motions froze when her hand stopped him, as if he were waiting for it. He had pulled at the string and waited for it to end, but when finally it ran out, he didn't know how to put it back. As an immediate instinct, he pulled away, allowing her to sit up. A wave of guilt washed over him as if it had been on the precipice all along, and he stepped back. His eyes went to her topless form, suddenly feeling a different type of emotion. "No... I uh... I understand. I just," forgot my place, his thoughts went on. But that wasn't right. She didn't seem like the distant type, and it was not the gap in their class that he was ashamed of. It was his lack of control.

"I just got carried away."

That made more sense. And he was able to smile when he said it, with a dumb smile that only child might wear. Picking up her corset off of the floor, he pressed it against her front, and reached around her to tie a single string around her back. "I'm not really good with this sort of thing either, sorry." She wasn't like the prostitutes in Basera, or the street girls in Sakizuki City. She was convinced that she had a purpose here, and unlike Demon, she did not believe that they were all just corpses waiting to be buried. He could understand that. Whether the markings and the fortunes were all lies spun by her parents, they were important to her.

Sitting on the table next to her, he leaned back, turned his head to where the stew was. Now the latter form of hunger had disappeared, and actual hunger settled in, marked by a growl in his stomach. "This better be some amazing fuckin' stew." Childlike and carnal, an odd combination for a man of this day and age, the Demon waited for his compensation package. His narrator really wanted to hit the nine thousand words mark though.

[ooc]
Bwahahahaha! Topic left.