Something in the Water [ Duchess & Red ]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Red Sinfonia, Jun 1, 2015.

  1. The body was a whisper against the oak floorboards as it was gently lowered. A halo of red hair flamed about her crown, accenting the creaminess of her pale skin. Eyes, glassy and empty, the color of the sun through a blue mosaic, watched endlessly, aimlessly upwards. They had been pretty when life still pulsed beneath the surface, if life was what one could call it.

    As far as Kietsayl was concerned, the woman had been a mere husk before he’d even touched her. No passion, no concern, no troubles, but no joys either. There was only air within her mind and hardly a soul to fill the thing. His hunt had been a mercy killing.

    Normally, he did not pity to the prey, but Kietsayl could not help but place her empty shell carefully amongst the dust. It was a kindness that was not warranted, but he tried not to think too much of it. Gathering his clothes, he hid a muscular body, weaved with slightly translucent skin, beneath the cotton and leather of shift and trousers. As silent as death, he pulled on his boots, and climbed out the window of the tavern. He knew every crevice, every sill with which to bring him down to the first level, and he was gone.

    Slinking into the night, shadows consumed him fervently. Despite gently pallid skin, his short, black hair and matching outfit blended well. A hood was pulled up, masking - or framing - angular features, complemented by dark lashes, eyes that held a rushing, deep river within them, and plump lips. A gentle rain struck his cheeks when he glanced up at the trees that had begun to surround him, gracing him with a sense of cover. The forest, the night, the rain - all of them were his allies during the hunt, and tonight he knew that more than ever.

    A man in the Dancing Dryad had suspected him, perhaps tasted the lake water in the back of his throat. Kietsayl had felt his peculiar sense of perspective and had taken care to avoid him well, but he had the growing feeling that they would be on his trail tonight. He marked that thought, remembered not to return to this exact time and place. Best to be careful.

    With a gaze that was used to the murk and gloom of the deepest parts of a lake, the unsure darkness that clouds, Kietsayl trekked his way down the deerpath that he had used before. When he was halfway there, he heard the dogs yipping in the distance. The remains had been found.

    Quickly stripping off boots, trousers, and shirt, Kietsayl’s human facade began to pour away like water down a rocky ledge. Something else entirely replaced it. What appeared to be the skull of a horse, stretched with a veil of light skin and faceted with small, pearl eyes, topped a muscular human torso, and dipped into a long, serpentine body, sprayed with patches of black, blue, and white. Things in one hand, Kietsayl moved with purpose in his true form, the snake half far outriding the strides of a man or dog.

    By the time he’d reached the lip of the lake, those chasing after him had stumbled on the change in the trail he left and puzzled over it. Kietsayl did not pause to see if it was the man at the Dryad or what he had suspected of him, but instead sunk into the lake.

    The waters poured over him as ravenously as shadows, welcoming him deeper, as though in a lover’s embrace. Tail undulating, curling as he traversed its depths, he tucked his things under a sturdy boulder and left them there. The lake, its bottom touching the River that Pierced the Worlds, would keep them safe until he returned. Leaving them, Kietsayl swam deeper.

    Deeper.

    Deeper.

    Until he passed through a darkness so thick, and so oily, it blocked out the sky filtering through the waters above. Joining with the River, Kietsayl let the waters rush to meet him, hold him in a caring embrace so unlike that which the red-haired girl had given him or even the lake he had left behind. Instead, it was like the embrace between a god and their constituent. A parent and their favorite child. The physical worlds washed away, and he let himself drift in the serenity that enfolded him.
     
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  2. "Mia...Your father would like to see you. It's...I believe it's time. He only wishes to see you."

    As the footsteps faded away into the blackness of the forest, Mia could only weep for the loss of her father and alpha. She knew it was coming but she could never admit it to herself. What could she have said to her inner demons anyway? Looking up to the sky, she felt weak. Without a moon to watch over her, well she didn't know if she carry on. How could she? Her father would be dead by the morning and she would become alpha. She would become alpha of a pack in the middle of a war. She would become alpha of a pack that was divided. What could a twenty-three year old alpha do? Would the men listen to her? Perhaps, she didn't know. They protected her but would they follow her orders? She realized she was making history among the packs. Who would've thought that a female would ever become alpha? Mia never imagined to see it in her lifetime but then again she never imagined that that woman would be her.

    Pulling her knees to her chest, the young woman thought of a name that had been burned into her mind. It was almost as distinctive as her own name as well as the woman who had given it to her. She died in Mia's arms at Mia's expense, but she whispered the name to her in a dying breath. Humans were never meant to be caught up into her pack's war but a casualty was a casualty. The woman's name had been Katya. She was one of the few people Mia trusted in the world but of course knowing the young woman came with a price. The name was almost like a beacon of hope now to Mia. Afterall, Katya had told her to use the name if she ever needed help. Those hadn't been her exact words but Mia had understood the gist. Picking a rock up from the bank of the river, she threw it, watching as it skipped across the water before finally sinking to the bottom.

    As she stood to finally go and face her father, she stole a glance to the other side of the water to be met by bright yellow eyes. How had she not heard the wolves approaching? She knew she could never face an army of that size alone, even if she had the extra help of her alpha blood. The bank was aflame with the eyes of hundreds and for once Mia admitted that she was afraid. Taking a step back, she whispered the name that had been burning in her mind all night and that name was Kietsayl.
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  3. Kietsayl.’

    Something jerked Kietsayl to life, startling him with a pulsing light that pervaded his peaceful melding. If he had control of his mouth, it would have opened in a panicked scream, but he was one with the River that Pierced the Worlds, and only his thoughts had a modicum of separation. There was no physical flesh to speak of, no body with which for him to react, and yet he was hurdling towards the contracting waterfall, bound to pour off the side of the places inbetweens and into a world that he had no choice of reaching.

    The torrent ripped him through, tugged at his mind and pulled him like a thread through the eye of the needle. Kietsayl’s body separated from the living movement of the River, now only a helpless passenger along its ferocious flow. Fighting it only dragged him faster, faster, through the tunnel of darkness and light, darkness and light that swallowed his world until he was shot, like a bullet into the density of a lake’s crushing waters.

    Kietsayl.

    His name reverberated within his mind, said in the same tone, in the same voice, neither of which were his own. It called him, pulled him to where he did not wish to go, and yet he went, Kietsayl’s body undulating urgently towards the surface. Hurry. Faster. Hurry!

    Something ancient demanded his compliance, forced him to react without thought. The need to defend, to protect, grew with burning violence within his breast, and his petrifying figure broke the surface with all the fury of a mother beast defending its cub.

    A slew of golden orbs watched him from the invading darkness of a wood. They had not been centered on him, not until Kietsayl’s ghastly form had poured onto the sandbank like a shaken rattlesnake. Whatever thing commanded him did not let him turn around, pushed that it was only what he was meant to defend. He did not have to see it, only had to trust that it was there, and that it needed help. Kill. Kill! Defend! The demands pierced him and he startled to action. There was no shriek, no growl, unlike his victims, only the deadly sound of coils unwinding. Kietsayl drew himself up to his full size, his arms splayed.

    Wolf beasts charged him, meeting only claws that tore through their plush spines. Those who tried to leap him were caught in his muscular serpentine body, but he did not eloquently suffocate like a boa. He squeezed, with all the power of his great frame, and blood splattered across his scales and made them gleam brilliantly beneath the moonlight. Generating several corpses, reason or fear stole over the small army, and he saw them melt back into the darkness, their paws sounding a retreat against the earth.

    The urgent feelings receded and Kietsayl settled himself. Now, he understood. Now, he knew what had happened. Someone had his name. Turning, he saw the female figure on the bank.

    Anger flooded his veins, disgust filling his throat. How? Who? The questions were pointless. She had his name until her death. There was a connection between them, a burning thread, and he worked his mind along it, feeling it tentatively. It bit him like a striking spider, his name protecting her against him, but it left a spot of blood - her name. ‘Miakoda,’ he thought into her mind, an echoing, sentient thing. ‘You called for me.’
     
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  4. Mia had no choice but to watch. She knew she should have been running but her feet stayed, they willed her to stay. Gasping as she watched the carnage and the river flow red, she covered her mouth. What had she done? What had she summoned to help her? Couldn't she send him-it...back? The call had been a slip up, a poor moment that she could add to the list, but she never meant for this to happen. How could she explain this to her pack? The Crescents and Red Moons would be back and they'd be back with more. Mia knew in her heart they couldn't win the war, especially not after the fires just a few months before. Looking at Kietsayl, Mia shivered as she heard her birth name. Hearing her name opened a drawer of unwanted demons and memories. So much so, they flooded her mind and for a moment, Mia couldn't respond to the serpent in front of her. She could only remember.

    "Miss Miakoda, it is so lovely to see you again. I can't believe you're eighteen. Remember, just a few years and you'll be the next alpha. I can't wait to see the day. You'll make a fine leader, please excuse me as I go speak with Mr. Kingston." The older alpha gripped her shoulder slightly before disappearing among the other wolves that were present. Mia had always dreaded when she turned eighteen. If she weren't in line to be alpha, well she wouldn't have had to suffer through age old traditions as she were about to.

    Smoothing out her dress, she grabbed a glass of wine off of one of the caterer's trays and gulped it down. With a slight buzz, she finally began to relax but how could she? The rest of the night after that passed as a blur and Mia was thankful for that. Jumping as someone placed a hand on the small of her back, Mia was ready to punch someone but at the sight of her youngest brother, she could only smile. She punched Bennett in the shoulder, saying, "Benny, you know I'm jumpy."

    "Well then stop being so jumpy." Bennett looked at his sister as he chuckled. Mia knew the look in his eyes, it was one of pity. She knew he didn't think she could be alpha. As tradition, she were about to spend the next year alone, in the wilderness, with no protection from the pack. If she failed, well everyone would get their answer and she already knew Bennett didn't think she could survive. He was hardly fourteen, what did he know? Nothing, that's what. He knew nothing. Walking away from him, she made for the back door and shifted. She would show all of them.

    Mia reflected on that year alone as she stared at the beast she had accidentally summoned. Staring up at him the only person on her mind was Katya. What had Katya known that she had been hiding before her death? Katya had been human right? Mia never had a reason to doubt that Katya was mortal...She knew about Mia so why wouldn't she confess her own secrets as well. As she continued to stand there, well Mia grew less confused and intimidated. With the best strength she could muster, she asked, "What are you?"
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  5. A growl had started to rumble in Kietsayl’s chest. How does she who stole his name not know? How did she, who thieved it from him, be so ignorant of his nature? Claws curled against his palm and he tried not to attempt breaking the truce, knowing that his name would lash out against him with all the fury and contempt that it was spelled with.

    I am the child of the River that Pierces the Worlds and the Seas of Time and Thought. I am the son that was conceived in the nightmares of the drowned and birthed in the Oceans of Teeth that lies in the plane that crosses all planes,’ Kietsayl’s thought was a hiss, all his distaste pouring into the smooth snarl of his tone. ‘I am Kietsayl, as you know. There is nothing else that I am other than that or what I have told you.

    Slithering forward against the muddy bank, Kietsayl leaned towards her, his pearly eyes capturing her image. He felt the heat of his name burn against his face, warning him away like the brilliant colors of a poisonous creature. He knew that he could not harm her, could only follow the ancient order. She did not have to know that, of course, so he trained his face to stoicism - easy with the ghastly shape of his face - and he glared at her hard.

    ‘Now, Miakoda, tell me why you have brought me here. Tell me why you know my name.