The Chase [closed] - Printable Version

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The Chase [closed] - Kat - 11-03-2015

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RE: The Chase [closed] - Kat - 11-03-2015

It was quiet here. Almost too quiet, given how loud her last destination had been. How uncomfortable.

Bress, in her ceremonial garb, flickered watchful hues across the open lake while pursed lips created a disappointed seal. Above hovered displaced megaliths, and beneath their shadows she wandered the shore with bare steps sinking in mossy forest covering. Idly, the Abaasy picked at the blood caked under her nails, though it was secondary to her concerns about her present location. One didn't simply accept the silence of a foreign land if they hoped to survive in the wilds, and it wasn't a lack of civilization that made Bress nervous. Rather, it was the missing sounds of native creatures she expected in the rural wilderness. No birds in the sky near the obtrusive floating isles above, which showed no sign of having been torn from the landscape at any point. No insects near the waterline either.

Bress' lips parted to expel a gentle sigh, and upon coming to rest on the water's edge with her toes lapped at by the lake's reach, she brought up both palms for further examination.

"I didn't escape the bailiwick unscathed." The woman commented to herself, if only to break the reticence of the lake. Still, despite the words, there was no injury present on her person. Inspection started at where congealed vitae crusted at her cuticles, and moved right along the length of her arms. Pale flesh was splattered, stained with maroon Bress had no inkling of origin for; faceless victims had never been worth forming memories of. Despite this, the Abaasy wracked her subconsciousness for any remnant of recollection while further studying old blood splotches. Absently, Bress' toes curled in the muck, allowing mud to pass between each shoeless digit.

Finalizing her search, the creature grazed her fingertips along the curve of her horns as a last minute precaution for those prided adornments. No true Abaasy would continue their miserable existence without a set, and regardless how harmless hers appeared crowning silky locks, the woman respected their true nature. "Not my blood." Bress confirmed before stepping further into the water. Cold currents swelled between her bare shins, threatening to soak through the feathered cloth of her skirt. Abruptly, the woman pulled the hem upwards and over her head, negligent of any chance at an audience considering the isolation of her environment. "Not my blood, but a nuisance." Bress hated messes, and a filthy appearance simply wouldn't do for the demon.

Naturally warm blooded, the initial shock of submerging her nude figure beneath the waves was enough to earn a hiss from lush lips. Her clothing has been tossed back towards the rocks lining the beach, forgotten in the moment as nothing more than soiled layers she would need to attend to when there was nothing left on her person regarding whatever had transpired in the last realm she visited. Back to her thoughts, to a glimpse at what had transpired, while hands busied themselves palming over stubborn gore.

---

"This is hardly necessary." Bress insisted impatiently as ropes were tugged at by her bound limbs. "I have no desire to run." That much was a lie, of course, but she needn't align herself with any philosophies that heavily favored morality. Demons were immoral by default. "If I meant to run, wouldn't I have done so by now?" And why hadn't she? That detail seemed the most convincing argument Bress was capable of offering in her current state, save maybe empty promises involving favors towards her captors. A moment passed without an answer from those in her presence, though Bress was more than happy to continue the conversation as though she wasn't the only one partaking in it. "I'll have you know I'm rather well known, and should you release me from these restraints, I can assure you there will be no ill will between myself and-"

"You speak as though you have a horse in the race." A laugh was issued, the mocking sort, though Bress' placid expression was unchanged. "If I untie you, this becomes a blood bath. You're right- your reputation precedes you. I know just how wicked you are, and I know behind that pretty face is a torturous soul hellbent on forsaking those who won't air on the side of caution." The stranger held up a wad of burlap, and wagged the makeshift rag at the Abaasy. "I can gag you if you'd like, or you can stop complaining about your treatment. Believe me, I'm a pious man. This could be going far worse for you."

"Piousness doesn't translate well when you're speaking with a bound woman." Bress smirked as she glanced around at the residency, and those in their armor; Templar perhaps. She could never be too certain with all the realms she frequented, though her fear was subdued. Swords were for children, and belonged in the unsophisticated times of mankind. Perhaps she had ended up in a dimension less advanced than her own? Certainly could have been the case if they were limited to rope and broad swords. "Allow me to speak with whomever is in charge of this band of marauders, as I see no reason to waste words on a heathen in cowards colors."

Those men in the background stirred angrily, and her offending comments earned a small growl from the nearest male in plate she spoke to initially. "The King's colors, you mean?"

"Yes. The King. Let me speak with your majesty rather than wait as cargo with his dogs while being eyed hungrily." Bress snorted softly before grinning at the stranger. "I'm not food, and I demand my discrepancies be addressed promptly. I am only so patient, Sir."

---

Surfacing with a sharp gasp, Bress shook out the length of her pale curls and sucked down a few breaths of needed air before treading slowly back to the shore. Pushing back the tangle of wet locks, the horned being waited naked and nonchalant as she dried off, debating the possibility of sunbathing through the afternoon while figuring out where to head away from this forested venue. The mountains weren't far off, and if she felt so inclined, the creature could take a leisurely stroll in their general direction while keeping an eye out for any sign of humanoids. It wasn't always humans she stumbled upon in her travels, but it was assuredly hard to hide her true self no matter who happened to find her. A set of horns was difficult to explain without a slew of previously prepared answers and excuses, but Bress was practiced in white lies and beautiful fabrications.

"I deserve a small break from wandering, I believe. Would it be fair to assume there are people of some variety here? Floating rocks don't just happen, after all."

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RE: The Chase [closed] - Kat - 11-04-2015

"Perhaps. I've allowed myself fantasies of a life without obstacles such as yourself." Bress peered upwards towards the first indication of the male, and while she was familiar with her company, she didn't consider them a companion. Rather, he was something of a thorn in her side, and had the blood remained on her hands, she would ask if it had been his. Abaasy and their short term memory loss, it was almost comical - but in Bress' case, it was an excuse for instinctive diablerie. "But what sort of life would I be living then? If there was no one to keep chasing me through the timelines, I would never run, and surely the loss of life to any location I situated in would be substantial." Manicured fingernails tapped against the flesh of her opposing wrist. "But I have time to shake you off in the chase still. I've yet to lose a fair game against a man in a dress."

Beneath the spill of her ivory locks, the creature presented a brilliant smile towards the Vaalen as his figure dribbled into existence. "I've been told I'm a slow learner, Serono. Do you agree? I must have missed a lesson, or misheard something you've said in the past. Do you think I've been ignoring instructions rather than following them?" With an almost condescending chuckle, the Abaasy swiveled on the balls of her feet and returned to the haphazard pile her clothing produced. Bending at the hip, Bress' ass proved as delectable then as it had for eons, though she paid no mind to whether Serono was keeping his eyes on the display or not. After all, they had entire lifetimes to play this game - Bress didn't keep tabs on what their endeavors consisted of every time the two of them met.

"You seem to think I haven't been waiting on you to catch up. What if I was? I've been here long enough to bathe, so certainly you're slacking if you meant to beat me here. Are you still following me? Are you really that bored?"

---

When Bress appeared in the chamber of the King, among the courtship and their attendants, the minstrels towards the back of the procession began playing a low and somber tune. Judging by the blood decorating the female, fresh and dripping down her slender arms, the tune was meant to acknowledge there was nothing left to be jovial about in the court. Bress brought with her a cortège, the pieces of men trailed down the long halls leading through stone heavy walls that muffled their hushed gasps. Speed was no matter for the Abaasy, though she typically preferred a sedate approach to her meals. A pity these templars had no intention of listening to a woman, but Bress took no offense to the mistakes of men. Such simple creatures earned little in the way of pity from a being such as she.

A frightened shriek followed Bress' arrival, to which the demon raised one hand in protest. "Come now, you act as if you've never seen blood. You produce more every month than I wear currently, so don't create such a scene for something so insignificant."

Guards on either side of Bress moved forward to collapse upon the intruder, but the Abaasy was far quicker than the mortals with their plate armor could hope to be, and very soon, Bress' bloodied figure was twice as drenched in warm vitae as it was prior, while mangled metal heaps lay compacted around the center aisle. The warped material resembled what would happen if someone were to crush an aluminum can, though Bress showed no sign of a struggle. To the average onlooker, the actions were instantaneous. "I take no pleasure in this. Truly, I'm a woman of written contracts rather than violence. I've never seen the need to be so forthright with one's power, even in the case of self defense." Pale cobalt hues studied the King on his throne from beneath hooded lids; her expression a sultry smirk. "I've been meaning to speak with you, Your Grace. I asked before while being held in the dungeon, but those beneath your banner didn't seem convinced I was worth your time."

Bress prodded the destroyed knight at her feet before asking, "And what about now?" Bits of human carnage had sprayed participants of the crowd, with those closest basting in the spray her crushing force had caused the bodies within their raiments. The men were no longer men. Instead, the templars were pulp, and Bress showed as much interest in this as she would in leaves falling in the middle of autumn. "My court has a Vizier, though you know nothing of the Satrapy, do you? No, you are far too Anglo-saxon for my taste- too noble to be brutal. I've always appreciated your neighbors to the south east, where the desert begins to swallow the trees..." She waved a hand dismissively. "But I digress, as you may notice, from the real issue here. Why were your men so adamant to catch me? Did they want you dead?"

Bress' gaze narrowed until she stared through slits, the curl of her smile bordering on deviousness. "Because this, Your Grace, is how you die. Tragic, isn't it?"

---

Tight silk was dragged upwards as the demon stepped back into her skirt, the motion hiding her supple curves from plain sight while she was preoccupied listening to Serono speak once again. "This place is quiet, and I'm under the impression you know why. Would you care to share your findings with me? I'll have you know I'm a curious beast, and the better informed I am, the happier I will be." A pause was given as she turned back round, once more facing the Vaalen to make eye contact as she asked, "Does it matter why I've come here? You followed- without any assistance from myself, I might add. Unless you meant to settle those ancient eyes on all the gifts of the flesh you'll never get to appreciate, you can answer that question without my help. I chose this place because it was a place to choose."

"But what do you know of this place, Serono? You can be cryptic, and I can be patient, but neither of these traits have ever been our strong points." Attempting the scrape at the blood splatter caked to her robes only made Bress regret trying, the filth catching beneath her nail's tip earning a disgruntled sigh from the woman. "Really, I can't just stand around coated in blood. This is true torture! Serono, did you plan this as a way for me to earn repentance? If so, I repent. Cosmos have mercy on my ruined outfit!" As quickly as it had been shimmied back up her thighs, Bress yanked down the offending skirt and kicked it away before walking off from where the two were speaking. Along the beach line, headed to those mountains she had shown interest in before the Vaalen made an appearance.

"I would rather be nude than wear rags. Surely you agree with me, Serono?"

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RE: The Chase [closed] - Kat - 12-06-2015

Anomaly or not, Bress didn't feel quite so attached to her follower as he did to her, given she had no mission related to keeping the cosmos in check. On the contrary, her pleasures often stemmed from disrupting the natural order of the universe, and such joviality was measured only in the chaos she crafted. Serono was, in short terms, a problem. Every instance of his existence put pressure on her own, and their two energies clashed even then, though the demon patted pale lashes as though hardly listening to what was said. Standoffish was a good way of putting her mood, despite that wicked smile curling across the curve of her lips. "A kimono... Yes, how culturally suave of you. A child of the greater galaxy, and you settle for the fabrics of feudal Japan? You'll need to work on being more imaginative in the future, Serono, if only to save me from boredom."

"At least when I wear nothing, you're entertained. Otherwise, I wouldn't see you nearly as often as I do. Silly beast, always playing chase..." There was no sense of savagery left in Bress after the blood had been cleansed from her figure, though such deceiving appearances were often how she got away with the deeds that seemed world shaking. Timelines quaked in her wake because she wanted to leave her best impression on places most impressionable. Wasn't it instinctual to crave power over those less capable that one's self? "I can clean the filth from my skin better than you can. For one so put off with my actions, you find yourself in my company time and time again. A glutton for punishment perhaps?" Bress laughed, indeed enjoying the sound of her own voice. "Reasons, you say? Reasons such as what?" The Abaasy paused to straighten, nude and dismissive with a darkness lingering behind her pale hues.

"How hopeful you sound in regards to my ass. This ass, I'll have you know, has swayed some of the greatest and most powerful minds over the course of many eons. Don't think I wouldn't use it against you, too." Cackling, the creature turned from her counterpart and waved a hand as if done speaking to Serono. "May you one day find freedom from the shackles of responsibility, Serono. A lap dog is still a dog, no matter how bright and ornate his collar might be."

---

Hand shaking free a cascade of crimson, the woman's otherworldly eyes brightened with a light unholy. Demonic. It carried the weight of history; of the darkness before the dawn. Her fist would clench several times, seizing in time with the words shared from the false king, his throne studied just as closely as he was, slumped lazily in his seat. His eyes were a giveaway, though she knew not to what, given the circumstances. One never truly knew what sort of being wore the guise of sheep. Bress, of course, being a prime example of deceiving looks. "You say such words, and I feel you know more than you should. Too much for a King of a nameless realm, certainly." Brushing down the front of her bloodied robes, the demon tutted to herself and shook her head in disapproval. "Too much for a common creature. Too much for many, really. You. Are. Hm. That's a mystery. Who are you?"

Bare steps slowly made their way over the litter of fallen Templars, feather light and continued even through the transformation of the room. The shift in the scenery flashed around Bress, giving her eager orbs a great deal to take in before the stranger dissolved into that shifting change that left him appearing as the all too persistent Serono. Had she been surprised, it didn't seem to reach her smiling features. Even with sightless statues looking on while his hand clasped her chin, Bress was all too pleased by the display; even reaching upwards to brush her finger tips against the other being's ear. Always so light, these touches she gave him. Almost too gentle to be issued by a demon. Her caressing continued even while he made strikes against her age, though she felt the argument that age was but a number seemed stale in his presence. Perhaps he was older. Neither could truly know in this moment.

She knew they both had witnessed more than any mortal could hope to see. That was enough reason to harbor some admiration for her companion, even if he was seeking to end the great carnage that was her journey traversing the planes. "You always have a new pet name for me, Serono. Don't you? Sprite? Heavens bless you, thinking me so lovely." Her body, with the blood of her victims still present and grim, pressed inwards to fit the curve of Serono's figure. On her tip toes, she rose up to nuzzle her unclean cheek against the Vaalen's features on the way to his ear, where she lingered to whisper with a throaty purr, "But you don't rule this planet, pet. Oh no, you rule nothing- a soldier in an army. No more, no less. You are no King if you are tasked with hunting hell hounds like me..."

---

Vanity went hand in hand with pride, and Bress was a prideful being. All pomp and finesse; capable of so much. She had ever right to be vain, given how perfect those curves seemed in the light of their location. Her reflection at the water's reach a stark ivory reminiscent of porcelain casts by master artisans. She was the face to a painting that would capture the viewers heart. A voice to an opera piece that pulled at the listener's devotion. It wasn't in the way she carried herself, but in what exactly encompassed Bress as a whole. Even her demonic energy had an allure to it's wispy, lingering presence, and that seemed the most caustic of additions. Intoxicating devilry that threatened the fabric of one's morals. It was no wonder she had come as far as she had, leaving behind a trail of death and despair like the faint odor of perfume.

"I can put something else on then, Serono." Quite suddenly, the demon donned another ceremonial garb tufted and silken, with jewels decorating her pale shoulders. Breasts still bare, the Abaasy were beings of equal bearings. A man needn't cover their chest, and neither did a woman. Far be it from demons to be sexist. "I hate when you're uncomfortable." His words earned a small scoff, given he had closed the gap between them, and that left her slipping away to step backwards as a means to put a few feet between the two immortals. "Why are you so persistent to do landscaping every time I'm in your company?" Eyes once more alight with that possessive luminescence, the creature huffed towards the colossal megalith falling towards the ground. The ground around the pair cracked and fissured, sending the Abaasy into a series of hops that seemed too fast for anything native to humanity.

Away from the crash scene she went, barely noting the reverberations displacing the ground beneath her, though she called out through the pluming fog of debris, "You destroy things as often as I do, Serono! Our universe as your plaything, and you choose to follow me! You're a fool-" The palm of Bress' left hand seemed to thrum to life, a symbol emblazoned upon her palm sparking with the ebony crackle of distorted energies. Directing her hand outwards, she continued in her sprint through the neighboring woodline while a violent ball of maroon light ignited in her grip. "I'll leave this plane to you, Serono." His destruction changed nothing; she felt no ties to this place. Her only qualms were with having to leave before she could see his finale. The Vaalen were peculiar, but for all the time she spent running from them, she hadn't considered staying to learn more.

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RE: The Chase [closed] - Kat - 02-22-2016

Bress had a way of shirking responsibility, even while openly accepting just what she had done wrong in the eyes of her companion. "There was a local legend that mentioned something along the line of endless life flowing through the bloodline of their lineage. Was I not obligated to test this myth? Some would consider me quite the detective, willing to clear these false claims issued by monarchs and majesties - but you always seem so dour. Serono, do you always do as you are told?" Bringing her fingers to her lips, the demon pantomimed silence before the male decidedly changed his attire, though she was hardly willing to throw anymore scathing comments towards him when he was setting up traction for a chase. Between them, much of this eternal existence was spent on the move, and no one location was worth committing to; at least not for Bress.

It was hard to pretend stability was possible in the face of dimensional chaos. Besides, chaos was much more fun.

"Leather suits you." She breathed, her mouth letting free one unmistakable sigh of wanton approval as hungry oculars scanned the Vaalen's new garments. "Perhaps you can show me your collection sometime, Serono. You know, when you're less busy running me down through the multiverse."

---

"And those descriptions would be avarice and spite... Hedonism and free will? Hate? Love?" Tongue gliding across her bloodied maw, the maroon stains vanished; replace by the addition of saliva sheen. "All those pesky emotions your kind can't quite feel?" Serono could move to some degree, though this position left his palm pressing face down along the Abaasy, and Bress seemed undeterred - perhaps snuggling closer with each warm passing of speech between the two. "There's always questions with you, Serono. Are you satisfied with the chase? No matter where we happen to go, or what occurs when we get there, you just trudge along behind me with an air of disappointment in tow."

Vision lowered to where the Vaalen's hand began to spark, the energy emitted sending tingles against her torso where flesh remained exposed. Briefly, she considered asking just what he intended to do, but there wasn't time to dwell on the possibilities, and both were well aware that futile attempts at showmanship often extended their time together. Bress was convinced Serono did everything in his power to keep her close, even while wear that mask of apathy and disinterest. Whether this belief was driven by ego, or by fact, it didn't matter. He still lingered ever close, and the demon craved that sort of dedication as accreditation for all the work she had done across the web of dimensional travel. A little havoc here and there, with one viewer dedicated to watching the show.

"You should keep that to yourself-"

But the blast sent her flying. Off, back against the far wall, with her buxom figure locked in place by the severity of his abilities. She wasn't hurt, but the briefest flash of rage crossed typically mirthful features as though what he was doing was crossing a fine line established between them. In reality, there had never been any lines. Their relationship, whatever it may have been, had no borders and spanned the possibilities of the multiverse so long as both of them chose to play the game. Obisidian tendrils met her wrists and ankles, coiling over the gore stained skin like serpents in Serono's attempt to keep her bound. She seemed unimpressed. More so, Bress showed no fear as her wicked gaze met the Vaalen's; she certainly wasn't remorseful. "I never misunderstood any such thing. I simply never cared to learn."

Low chuckling followed, but the mockery implied with it seemed harsher. It wasn't playful any longer, nor did Bress seem completely defeated where she was captive, decorating an otherwise bleak black wall. The only difficulty the woman seemed to face was the directness of the sunlight peeking past her captor's silhouette, though she could maintain eye contact when he chose to do so. "Oh, teach me, why don't you... I'm sure you've been looking forward to it." Not bothering to observe the state her companion's hand was in, the demon managed to shift her sneer into a smirk.

"I've never been tickled by a Vaalen before."

---

The reconstruction process was more chaotic than his tantrum had been, though Bress could keep the realigning architecture of the fallen rocks and downed trees out of her path. She continued to run forward, and the mess Serono had previously made reconfigured itself to the picturesque tranquility of a lake in solitude. Bress' hand continued to thrum, the power seeping from the sigil embedded in her palm begging for release like a lifelong prisoner claiming innocence. Well aware there was nothing innocent about her abilities, she enabled the crest just as the treeline began to clear and was met with an overwhelming whitening of the setting. Trees, rocks, dense foliage - all vanished. Replaced by an emptiness, this too seemed to convert before her eyes like blank pages being flipped through.

Suddenly, everything stopped - and her bare feet sunk into crisp, clean snow. Absently, the demon hissed her disapproval before shaking her head to clear her vision. It was somewhere northern, or as north as one needed to be for snow to reach knee level. Were she anything else, this sort of climate would be dangerous to traverse though, but the Abaasy wouldn't suffer any long term damage from exposure. It was just difficult to navigate through such deep snow without shoes. So, as quickly as her appearance had changed back at the lake, so too did Bress do away with her ceremonial gear in favor of a pelts and furs style parka with matching leggings and hardened leather boots. At a distance, as bundled as she became, the woman appeared like some large mammal of some sort - though she wasn't looking to fool anyone.

Without knowing where Serono was, the demon could only hike through the desolation in hopes of losing his attention for the time being; it did generally take time for him to catch up. So, Bress crossed a massive opening of the icy field - her tracks vanishing as soon as she moved away from them - until she spotted a small cave carved into the mountainside. Her nose wiggled as she approached, catching the scent of other sentient beings, though it was difficult to assess just where in the time line she had ended up. Perhaps predating technology? How quaint. Bress certainly enjoyed watching the early state of man, if only to poke fun at the predecessors of the race. Rather than directly enter the home of the strangers, Bress plopped down in the snow outside their cave and peeked in for a time.

A family unit, give or take. Parents, a child. An elder. A sibling of the parents. Collectively, a small clan of sorts. Bress couldn't resist making a short snort through her nostrils before leaving them to their meal. Family - what was she to think about a family? Hers certainly wasn't anything like theirs.

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