Post by Nuria Volaskie on Feb 4, 2008 19:55:18 GMT -5
The shadows played a dance as a new essence entered into them, filling them. Her presence at once had been everywhere, nowhere, and yet somewhere once. Malkate and she had a shaky alliance almost, her childish hatred never forgotten but moved along from as life progressed and time ate away at the ache of such…pettiness. Almost. She still remembered the one creature that captured her heart, the same thing that spit it out as easily as she had done so many times before. Nuria wasn’t a creature that loved easily if at all, and the emotions that were placed so heartfelt into one set of hands ruined what was left of the human in her. The day her mortal body died in the tower she’d held one scrap of humanity left, a singular seed that could have grown with the right care.
It didn’t really bother her these days. She stayed so long in a shadow form she almost forgot how to manifest herself, but even as the one latent element twitched and the presence filled the murky substance, it billowed out like breath from a god, forming an almost inky outline of a feminine curve. Pale ice blue eyes blinked slowly, taking form as the first signs of color within the shadow body, as the spell took form and worked itself with her. The shadows fell away from her body like a kind of mud-casing long since unused, and she looked around, her bare feet placed upon the cold tile of the Tower’s floor. Her body was completely devoid of clothing, from the pale flicker of her flesh to the dark Smokey outlines of what appeared to be makeup from a more modern day world.
She turned, observing the room she had appeared in like a curious entity, the long strands of her ebony hair fallen in perfect silk waves to her lower knees, swaying like an almost second skin against her body as she moved, the faint chill of the air meaning little to her. She took from the darkening shadows the whispers of her pets, the voices that told her in quick rapid thoughts about what happened, what they witnessed – and the master of this place. Nuria, frankly, was unimpressed. A haughty man with a quick temper whom the shadows whispered of dominance. Though – with much amusement, she noted the words of her ‘pets’ that he now glowed as bright as an afternoon sun. The thought caused shimmering ruby lips to curve into one of those smiles that simply started wars.
She tilted her head back, rich laughter erupting from her mouth – like the sensual sound that was like velvet against that soft spot of arousal, echoing against the stone of the walls as her hands traveled from her rounded breasts lower, across her belly button, down her outer thighs, until she bent over enough that her hands gripped her ankles easily. Small red trails appeared against her flesh as she stood where she had trailed it down, and as the red formed it spread outwardly. Around her legs a long skirt appeared, her normal attire that she wore – a skirt that was simple in the matter of a silver chain that linked at her hips, only with two pieces of cloth on either side of her front and back, a color so red it seemed made of blood until it started to darken until the blackness flickered as if shadow itself.
Across her chest a ruby corset formed, hugging agents her chest in the most modest top she’d worn yet. It fell just short of the curvature that started her chest, leaving a hinting glance to the eye. Her bare feet whispered across the stones as she moved to one of the dressers that had obviously – at one point – belonged to someone else who was female in nature. Her fingers drifted across the various items gathered on the table, and she plucked from it a long necklace of red and black stones, and holding it to her neck, used the shadows to clasp it about her neck. Her fingers idly strummed across it, before she lifted the earrings to match and slipped them through her lobes. The last piece was a headpiece that the shadows formed on her head, deftly snatching it from another woman’s box of jewels and transporting it to her. It sat like a coronet across her head, leaving her dark brows pronounced.
Satisfied at last she moved through the corridors, apparently not yet occupied by the staff who had so recently vacated it. Her first impression was that she’d been deceived by her pets, though as the people moved in and many gave her startled glances, she merely grinned. The shadows licking at her heels like obedient puppies seemed enough to skitter them away for now, or perhaps the almost snarl-grin she flashed if they seemed to come near. Perhaps it was in the way that she weaved the magic into the shadows that made those of a simpler mind wish to not be near her, a kind of keep-away spell until she wanted to be notice. She did however, notice the second glances of some of the younger men, or those married as she simply helped herself to this tower, as if it were her long lost home.
Her feet finally carried her to the large room that her hands pushed against the door without a care, thin arms flexing as her eyes took the few seconds it mattered to take in the room. The ice blues danced with laughter as they focused on the singular object she sought out. There were impressions in this room, a faint scent of a man who sat upon it once. The curvature of her lips increased as she stalked into the War Room, each footfall decisive and sure of itself as she moved to the largest throne-like shape among it, hands reaching out to trail across it as if it had been the flesh of a lover. Her lids half drooped, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips as she stalked around it, laughter bubbling up in her chest again before she sat down, and crossed her legs.
Aloud, she simply said, “And now, when your master arrives, do let him know he has company.” The shadows, a sensual lover of this flesh curved and danced about her, occasionally taking on the image if any were to look too close, of demonic things – skulls, men being killed, the usual things that go bump in the night.
It didn’t really bother her these days. She stayed so long in a shadow form she almost forgot how to manifest herself, but even as the one latent element twitched and the presence filled the murky substance, it billowed out like breath from a god, forming an almost inky outline of a feminine curve. Pale ice blue eyes blinked slowly, taking form as the first signs of color within the shadow body, as the spell took form and worked itself with her. The shadows fell away from her body like a kind of mud-casing long since unused, and she looked around, her bare feet placed upon the cold tile of the Tower’s floor. Her body was completely devoid of clothing, from the pale flicker of her flesh to the dark Smokey outlines of what appeared to be makeup from a more modern day world.
She turned, observing the room she had appeared in like a curious entity, the long strands of her ebony hair fallen in perfect silk waves to her lower knees, swaying like an almost second skin against her body as she moved, the faint chill of the air meaning little to her. She took from the darkening shadows the whispers of her pets, the voices that told her in quick rapid thoughts about what happened, what they witnessed – and the master of this place. Nuria, frankly, was unimpressed. A haughty man with a quick temper whom the shadows whispered of dominance. Though – with much amusement, she noted the words of her ‘pets’ that he now glowed as bright as an afternoon sun. The thought caused shimmering ruby lips to curve into one of those smiles that simply started wars.
She tilted her head back, rich laughter erupting from her mouth – like the sensual sound that was like velvet against that soft spot of arousal, echoing against the stone of the walls as her hands traveled from her rounded breasts lower, across her belly button, down her outer thighs, until she bent over enough that her hands gripped her ankles easily. Small red trails appeared against her flesh as she stood where she had trailed it down, and as the red formed it spread outwardly. Around her legs a long skirt appeared, her normal attire that she wore – a skirt that was simple in the matter of a silver chain that linked at her hips, only with two pieces of cloth on either side of her front and back, a color so red it seemed made of blood until it started to darken until the blackness flickered as if shadow itself.
Across her chest a ruby corset formed, hugging agents her chest in the most modest top she’d worn yet. It fell just short of the curvature that started her chest, leaving a hinting glance to the eye. Her bare feet whispered across the stones as she moved to one of the dressers that had obviously – at one point – belonged to someone else who was female in nature. Her fingers drifted across the various items gathered on the table, and she plucked from it a long necklace of red and black stones, and holding it to her neck, used the shadows to clasp it about her neck. Her fingers idly strummed across it, before she lifted the earrings to match and slipped them through her lobes. The last piece was a headpiece that the shadows formed on her head, deftly snatching it from another woman’s box of jewels and transporting it to her. It sat like a coronet across her head, leaving her dark brows pronounced.
Satisfied at last she moved through the corridors, apparently not yet occupied by the staff who had so recently vacated it. Her first impression was that she’d been deceived by her pets, though as the people moved in and many gave her startled glances, she merely grinned. The shadows licking at her heels like obedient puppies seemed enough to skitter them away for now, or perhaps the almost snarl-grin she flashed if they seemed to come near. Perhaps it was in the way that she weaved the magic into the shadows that made those of a simpler mind wish to not be near her, a kind of keep-away spell until she wanted to be notice. She did however, notice the second glances of some of the younger men, or those married as she simply helped herself to this tower, as if it were her long lost home.
Her feet finally carried her to the large room that her hands pushed against the door without a care, thin arms flexing as her eyes took the few seconds it mattered to take in the room. The ice blues danced with laughter as they focused on the singular object she sought out. There were impressions in this room, a faint scent of a man who sat upon it once. The curvature of her lips increased as she stalked into the War Room, each footfall decisive and sure of itself as she moved to the largest throne-like shape among it, hands reaching out to trail across it as if it had been the flesh of a lover. Her lids half drooped, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips as she stalked around it, laughter bubbling up in her chest again before she sat down, and crossed her legs.
Aloud, she simply said, “And now, when your master arrives, do let him know he has company.” The shadows, a sensual lover of this flesh curved and danced about her, occasionally taking on the image if any were to look too close, of demonic things – skulls, men being killed, the usual things that go bump in the night.