Cinnia leaned on a wall, a cigarette in her mouth and her bowler hat sitting casually on her head. She blew out a cloud of smoke and looked around her. She had used her enlargement abilities to make herself roughly about 5'5'' to keep up a human appearance but had everything else the same. Same bubblegum pink hair, same golden eyes, same silver studded leather jacket. Everything was the same, except, she felt, for the things around her. The streets seemed emptier than usual and she could have sworn she saw something peeking out of the sewer drain. Then again, that could be normal. It was night time after all, so maybe people just weren't around. Besides, with beings like her around who knew what else could be lurking. Not even the mythical creatures themselves knew about every other being.
She took a finally inhale of her cigarette, the sickly sweet and tarry taste filling her mouth and calming her mind before exhaling through her nose and putting it out against a wall.
"God damn," She mumbled fixing her jacket and putting the lighter in her other hand back into her pocket. "It's boring tonight." She began to walk down the sidewalk before hearing what sounded like rustling. Paranoia hit her like a sledgehammer. Shit was it a hunter? It was late at night, so whose to say they weren't lurking around for some creature to torture? She turned, looking around behind before exhaling in relief. No one. Just the wind or some stupid animal probably. She was about to walk forward when she bumped right into someone and stumbled back in surprise.
"God fucking..." She mumbled, breathing again. Whoever they were they had scared the living hell out of her. "Don't scare a girl like that!" She said, looking at whoever happened to be in front of her.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 23, 2015 3:20:18 GMT -5
It was a sin wasn't it, being this evil? Marcus sat on a couch and watched as the one who he had been tortured looked to the ground. Was he looking? His eyes looked closed. So he was sleeping then? Didn't seem likely with the amount of blood that was pouring out of him. So he was dead? Yeah, dead seemed most likely. Since the person was dead, Marcus job was done.
He sighed. "I wasn't suppose to kill you. Cut you up and make you feel agonizing pain. Yeah, but not kill." He took a drink of water and poured it down his mouth. Making people suffer was hard work. When he took the water, he had noticed his hands. Bloody red they were. He needed to clean them, so he did.
He walked into the bathroom and washed his fingers, even soaked the space under his nails. But scrub all he wanted, the blood would not go away, it never did; Marcus had come to live with it. Out the restroom he went, past the chained, bloody, vessel that was once his torture victim, then towards the door. It opened with a large rust creek, then closed with a large bang. Marcus didn't like the sound; He didn't like any sound except the moans of a woman, or women.
'When did it turn to night?' Marcus thought as he began to walk. He moved past an alley and made his way to some place he knew would heal his murderous heart: a brothel. When he strolled around the corner, a woman had suddenly crashed into him. He stayed in place while she stumbled back and cursed under her breath. Then she looked at him and ordered him not to scare her. However, Marcus did nothing except turn a corner. Were her nerves already rattled before he met her? Seemed most likely.
Marcus grinned. "You should learn how to not scare yourself." His black wings fluttered as he spoke. His black wings... 'Oh crap,' he thought when he finally realized that his wings were out. How long had they been showing and how come he had not noticed? They were too big and elegant, it was hard not to notice them.
Post by Cinnia Keriam on May 23, 2015 3:30:37 GMT -5
Cinnia was just going to let it go, but as he turned and revealed the wings (possibly by accident, hell if she knew) her heart suddenly fluttered. She moved forward quickly, taking a gentle hold of one of them and feeling them gently.
"Well, didn't know there would be a Daemon out tonight. Shouldn't be surprising though, you all work best in the night don't ya?" She purred, looking at him with a slight grin. "You have beautiful wings you know. I mean, I still like mine better, but they're beautiful none the less." She smiled, stroking a hand across them. She wondered what he was doing out so late at night, he was a big guy and of course could protect himself but it was just strange. They were normally so good at hiding themselves after all. She let her own pink and white dipped wings flutter out a bit, making sure he got the message she indeed wasn't human.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 23, 2015 3:54:48 GMT -5
Instead of freaking out and running away (like most people did when they saw a creature of darkness wings), the girl became infatuated by his wings. She watched them then stroked them. She looked upon him like a creature of beauty, a type of sensual stare that he would rarely get with his wings. Marcus was going to enjoy this.
"Yours aren't so bad yourself," he said as he noticed the pink of her wings open as well. So she was a deamon? Or maybe an angel? It was hard to tell nowadays. Wings could come in many shapes and sizes. Marcus mostly blamed this from the amount of interbreeding that went on in this world.
"I was going to go somewhere fun, but I think I'll go to club instead. Only if you will come with me." His grin suddenly turned carnal as he waited for her answer. Maybe he could get into some interbreeding as well? "The name is Ghost. And you are?"
Post by Cinnia Keriam on May 23, 2015 4:03:20 GMT -5
She giggled a tad, a cute one that filled the air around them with a gentle warmth. Her golden eyes smiled up at him and she gave another gentle stroke across the very top of his wings to the tip.
"Cinnia." She replied, her grin seemed wider as she stepped around to be at his side rather than behind him. The view was nice, but she would rather be somewhere she could see the rest of him. "I'd love to, have any place in mind?" She smiled, her wings hiding away once more as not to alert any passing humans or hunters. She began to walk forward a bit, seemingly uncaring whether he followed or not. Or just so he could get a good view of her ass, she didn't really care which it came off as.
"I have a few in mind myself if you don't. But I'm sure you do know, big guy like yourself? Gotta have some place to go eh?" She said, she seemed to talk with her hands a tad, waving them gently over her shoulder with a hand on her hip.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 23, 2015 4:21:13 GMT -5
She giggled, he smiled. It had been a long time since he could get a girl to laugh like that. It was flirty, not forceful, and told him that she was interested. And he was correct in thinking that she was. The woman came to his side and agreed to his offer. She moved forward a little bit, and he couldn't help but look down. It was a beautiful sight she gave him, it would be a sin if he didn't enjoy it.
"There is this place not far from here that's open to supernaturals. We can go there and relax. Maybe have our own fun." Marcus followed behind her. He folded his wings and hung his blue coat over his back to hide them. It wasn't the wisest of moves but who would notice him now at this dark of night?
"Although, I'm always open to other places. Like a hotel or your home for example."
Post by Cinnia Keriam on May 23, 2015 4:28:18 GMT -5
She smiled, looking back at him with a glint in her golden eyes and a playful smirk on her face.
"Depends on if you want to have a bit of foreplay first." She winked at him with another giggle. She had always been good at flirting and she hadn't had a good daemon in a while. She would be a fool to turn down a looker like this one. "Personally, I would like to talk at least a bit before any fun happens. Best to know what you like and how you like it before anything else." She was being blunt about it and she knew that, but she was sure he had already guessed her intentions. He was a looker as was she, just had to keep the enlargement spell up so she didn't shrink back to her normal size and whatever he was packing literally broke her. It had happened before, she didn't literally break but holy shit had it hurt. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to experience ever again.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 23, 2015 4:44:31 GMT -5
"What I like eh?" Marcus took a moment to think. What did he like? He had a lot of preferences yet none for women. She just had to be able to walk, extremely sexy, and an actual woman. As far as Marcus knew, Cinnia was three for three. "Well, I personally want my women on all fours and screaming my name. But I also don't mind her on her back."
He cackled. "Oh, were we talking about something else?"
Marcus liked that Cinnia was being blunt. This meant that he could be as well; and he wasn't the type of guy who could give hints all day. Sooner or later he would grab Cinnia by the waste, look into her eyes, place his lips close to hers, and ask whether they were going to have sex or not. When he would ask, it would come out very forceful and passionate. "So, you know what I am, it's time for me to guess what you are."
He took another look at her, mostly her body, then continued to talk. "From the hair and eyes I would say that you are a Fae. No regular human could pull off the pink hair, golden eyes, and look this sexy."
Hallucinations are such a wonderful, awful thing. Sometimes helpful and sometimes not so much. They were something that Somnus quite enjoyed spinning for people however, when the suitable conditions were met. This time it seemed that one of his little pets was overloading someone's pain threshold.
Any other time this might have been perfectly acceptable, but Marcus just didn't know quite when to quit. A recurring problem in sustaining the dreams of the living. So, when the silly little daemon abandoned his project, the living shackles on Somnus' wrists abandoned him as well. It had only taken a brief moment of visual and auditory hallucinations to put him into the optimal position for striking the misbehaving Marcus.
A small runoff drain near the center of the room was the perfect access point for penetrating the filthy, rotting bowels of the city. The pipes echoed with "We all float, down here..." as the tortured carcass that Somnus took as his newest body sunk into the ground below. Drains were frequent enough for the creature to move about and get a good view of the situation above, which was good enough to act on. There was Marcus, and one other inconsiquential person. She would have to be dealt with later, for now... It was time for Marcus to open his eyes.
At once, the complex framework was constructed and built for the massive playing field that a very disgruntled Marcus was about to be rudely thrust into. The lack of any real danger proposed by any sort of hallucination would bypass any lurking sense of danger, as the world around the Daemon rapidly began to change. Full sensory hallucinations all constricted over the poor winged man at once, sending him spiralling down into a hell of his own creation, filled to the brim with those he saw fit to send there. Massive spires of rotting, decaying flesh rose from the ground, screaming. Pools of putrified people seeped out of the cracks in the ground until the streets were filled, and the great eye of the enlarged moon cracked open just barely, reflecting the severity of Marcus' crimes.
The nearby woman, while not experiencing the full effect of Somnus' hallucinations, would suddenly find herself being assailed by slithering manacles growing from any and every available surface. Both parties involved would slowly find it impossible to stay calm, to peer through the thick orange haze of hormones and chemicals racing through their brains and causing a frenzy of emotions.
Post by Cinnia Keriam on May 23, 2015 13:34:28 GMT -5
She was still smiling as all this went down, Cinnia waving a hand gently.
"Ding, ding, ding big guy. Rit if we want to get technical." She said, turning her head just in time to see the daemons eyes become wide orbs of fear. "Er...you ok there?" She questioned, suddenly feeling something crawling across her skin. It was metal and she felt a burning sensation along her skin. She immediately let out a scream and struggled against whatever was pushing against her skin and burning her. It had to be something with iron in it! She felt herself shrinking, or at least she could have sworn she did, as the magic seemed to wear off. Was she being paranoid? She looked around finally rather than just trying to blindly get away from the awful clutches of the chains. They seemed to be coming from the very ground itself and it completely terrified her. God, it fucking burned!
She kicked and struggled at the chains in fear, this wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening! Had the daemon been some sort of trap? Some kind of decoy for a hunter? Thoughts raced through her mind faster than she was able to keep up. Her heart raced, her mind a fog of fear as tears began to stream down her face. It felt as though she was out of her body, watching from afar as someone who was in her body was crying and smearing the make-up she had put on perfectly earlier all while wondering what she was doing. She trembled and tensed up at random moments with hisses of pain from whatever metal was touching her. She finally collapsed against the chains and began to practically sob, her quivering body simply couldn't hold up to the mental strain of a panic attack and the physical strain of trying to get away from the chains.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 23, 2015 13:58:32 GMT -5
The world went dark for Marcus. Bodies had rose from the ground and the moon had reappeared above him. It's judgmental eyes staring down at him. He knew what it was, he did not need a pillar of decaying flesh to tell. That thing was every sin he had ever done finally catching up with him. Knowing this, he feared it. Not because it could possibly kill him any time, death was something he invited. This being that looked down at him was feared because it knew him. It knew who he was, it knew what he could do, and it knew how to break him into tiny pieces. It also knew that death was too easy for Marcus, so it did this.
He thought he could hear something under the moans of the dead. A woman screaming? Crying? Who was that? Could it possibly be Cinnia? If so, then it was pretty ironic. What ever this thing was, it probably sought to torture anyone near to him. However, Marcus cared nothing for the Fae, like he cares nothing for dying. If given a choice between fighting or saving her, Marcus would say 'make a better ultimatum,' and laugh at whoever's faces.
"So," he said to the moon. He tried to sound tough but he didn't seem to manage. It was onerous to say that you aren't afraid to the very thing that makes you afraid. "W-what do you got for me this time?"
Putrid waves of blood, scraps of skin, and piles of bodies all assaulted Marcus at once. There was no escaping from this lower level of hell, from the graveyard of the unconscious. No matter where he went, there would only be more bodies, endlessly screaming and gurgling, eager to lay hands on the one who had put them there. And for every hand that succeeded, connected or not to its owner, the one they touched would find himself living through their life moment for moment, up until it was cut fatally short.
If Marcus wanted to murder these people, then he would be forced to truly know them. To live life through their eyes, to see what they saw, love what they loved, dream what they dreamed. There were hundreds of them, and he wasn't going to have even a sliver of hope for escape until he suffered through exactly what he had done to them all.
Meanwhile, Somnus shed his currently occupied skin and rose up through the cement he had implanted himself under. Every centimeter of exposed flesh stuck and was in turn wrenched free from the ground as he steadily rose, until at last he was free of the filthy confines of the runoff drains. From there he maintained his focus on Marcus, constructing and adapting the hell of his own creation, and floated gently on the breeze to the newest of his captured prey.
The woman was... Abnormally short, to say the least. Her glimmering locks and bright irises were a dead giveaway to exactly what she was, which explained the height, but not to what she was doing here. A Fae could make an excellent lady of the night, no doubt, but to do it so blatantly was, in Somnus' experience, unheard of. No, the issue was in need of a more... personal questioning. A more invasive look through the cards on the table.
A quiet whispering wafted through the cool night air, audible only to Cinnia, as Somnus gently reclined into a relaxed prone position. He continued to float, off to the side and with his primary focus still on Marcus, as he delved into the woman's conscious mind. The more he scoured through the closer to her he would float, still reclining on an invisible surface. When he was finally nearly touching her, he would correct into his naturally somewhat slumped upright position. From here, he would literally hover over her shoulder. A slender finger would delicately trace over her shoulder, neck and then jaw, subtly allowing him more access to her thoughts and her memories.
Shortly after probing her most intimate parts, the warm digit tracing along her features would start to grow even warmer to the touch. Nearly hot, though not unpleasantly so. At the same time, the heavy manacles binding her into her place would ever so gently slacken. The sensation would slowly sip away at the little cherry blossom's reserves of energy, something that when paired with the emotional exhaustion of being put into an artificial frenzy made for a potent sleeping potion.
Once the small and delicate frame of the woman went limp, and the chains around her arms and legs released, Somnus would allow her to float backwards into his waiting arms. From there he would whisper sweet dreams and pleasant secrets to the captured flower, as much of an apology for her involvement as any.
Post by Marcus Drago on May 24, 2015 13:36:26 GMT -5
The moon didn't answer. Instead, the information he wished to receive (then soon regretted asking for) came flooding in with more than what he wanted. At first he was startled. The group of bodies that lined the area suddenly came towards him, and each of them all wanted a piece of him. For that he could not stand, so he ran. This living desolate place where only nightmares were born must have had an ending. All Marcus needed was a way out. So he ran as the undead crowded towards him with howls of suffering and eyes of fear. It made Marcus angry to see their face. What did they need to be afraid of when they were the ones chasing after him?
He thought that he could run until he made a good plan to escape, but he was wrong. From the mob of walking dead that tried to maul his person jumped an old man. He leaped two storys high in the air then landed right on Marcus' back. The old man screeched with the devils voice. *KNOW ME!* It said then touched the temple of Marcus' head. Visions began to flash, those of the mans life and the family he had raised. This man was apart of the Edo world. He had been a devoted samurai, raised loving children, and had even started a school for future samurai's to follow in his footsteps. But then he had met Marcus, and with his last dying vision being a wicked grin on the young daemon's face, he had been cut down.
When Marcus vision on the situation returned, he was left baffled at what he just saw. He lived the life of a dead man, from beginning to the end. And the end was caused by him. Before he could make further thoughts, he found himself staring up at a barrage of men and women soaring above the sky, and heading towards him. Those words played in his head, 'know me,' and he made several guesses as to what was really happening to him. All guesses however, led to one answer. This moon was a cruel monster.
Marcus soared in the air and avoided most of the raining dead. He kicked the ones that where in the way and used his wings to swat the ones that headed towards him. Unfortunately, some of these things still touched him. He was given images of a woman who worked for a law firm in New York. She was promised to marriage and spent a night with her fiance at a ball. She was dressed in a pretty white dress that was soon stained red with blood by Marcus doing. Marcus saw a famous wrestler, a cab driver, a war veteran, and a Japanese geisha have all their lives lived then taken by him. He experienced what they did, knew well of the pain they felt, and bear'd the sudden dread they had when they knew that their life was over. All of the endings caused by Marcus himself and his cold eyes.
He didn't want to experience any of this, so he ran and flew as fast and as far as he could. He fought them all off of him as he tried to escape this everlasting world of agony. He was prepared to fight for eternity of he had to, he was ready to ruin his life not to experience this anymore. However, all that thought of fighting to the end was halted by the review of his next set of images. There was a baby boy now. His mother wasn't the best of looking women, but she had a warmness to her that could heat up any cold day. The child began to grow, from an infant and into a toddler who loved to speak. One of his first words were 'Dada,' and they were addressed mostly to Marcus. The boy and Marcus did everything together; laughed, played, and lived with a bond of unbreakable pleasantries. Marcus taught the boy a lot, and the boy learned studiously and happily. But then, on a stormy night, while men were trying to kill the boy and his mother in their home, the boy was cut down. And on his dying bed, like the others, he saw a man standing over him. A katana was in the mans hand, bloody from the tip to the handle. The man was sobbing in his other hand with tears raining on the boys face. It was clear who the man was, there was no need to look into his eyes or pay attention to his features to tell. On the dying boys last breath were the words, "Dad? Why...?"
Marcus awakened again, and noticed that same boy was on his back and holding his temple. He looked into the boys eyes and witnessed a look of confusion from them, not fear. The boy said- *DO YOU KNOW ME?* As tears swelled up in Marcus eyes, he took the boys body and pulled it in for a loving embrace. Marcus sunk with the boy to the ground and whispered to the boy through the cries of his own- "Yes.. I do... I know you."
The dead circled around him as he sat, and soon encumbered his body with their own. At that point, he fought no more.
Post by Cinnia Keriam on May 24, 2015 15:17:40 GMT -5
As Cinnia began to hear the whispers her fear heightened suddenly, she curled up tighter and shook her head frantically.
"No, no, no, go away." She whimpered, sniffling and shaking her head frantically. She felt a finger trace along her shoulder and back, she shivered and twitched but didn't move beyond that. She was to exhausted, to afraid to move. Her head pounded in a migraine of panic as the finger on her back grew hot. It should have hurt but it didn't. It was soothing really. She sniffled once more as the chains slackened and fell from her body as she felt her limbs grow heavy.
Her breathing grew less panicked and slower, her eyes now heavy with sleep as exhaustion took over her. Sleep, sleep sounded so good right now. A gentle dreamless sleep, though that was unlikely. She soon went fully limp, collapsing against the ground with a sigh as her mind slipped into full unconsciousness and happy dreams of her former lover took her over. Dreams of what could have been. Dreams of what she wished had happened. Dreams that made her both sad and extremely happy at the same time. A gentle kind sleep that she would wake up from fully refreshed, but for now she needed the sleep. She needed her body to rest.
After allowing the madness to continue for two or three hours, Somnus decided that it was time. It was time for Marcus to truly take responsibility for his actions, to truly receive his comeuppance. A short few seconds of gentle floating was all that it took for the ancient moon-man to reach his mark, and after another short second of repositioning the woman in his arms he was ready.
A long arm extended, newly freed from its previous occupation, to lightly brush its fingers over Marcus' eyes. Immediately, the effects of the Dreamer's magic began to manifest in the form of deep, black bags. In the everlasting hallucination Marcus was being put under, the words "From this moment on, you are a cursed man. A creature doomed to suffer at the hands of those it has wrenched from this world. Lifting this curse is but a simple matter, however. Prove to me that you are capable of much, much more than trivial acts of violence." would echo, repeated shortly after by the masses of the rotting dead within.
Once his message was sufficiently conveyed, Somnus would leech a hefty supply of energy from the suffering Daemon, and then take his leave, woman still cradled in one of his arms. With his fabricated reality no longer being maintained, he had plenty of energy to spare for a relatively quick flight, and another small spin on reality.
The sweet whisperings of what could have been, and what could still be started to take a slight turn for Cinnia. Visions of the past started to mingle and be overtaken by those of the future, of hardships and trouble. Almost nightmarish happenings and great, unidentifiable beasts roamed through the darkness, kept at bay only by a shining citadel. A great structure of royal purple, surrounded by great fields of luxuriously plush orange grass. Just above the tallest point of the citadel, almost Greek or Roman in construction style, was the moon... shining, and bright.
By the time his vision was implanted within the woman's dream, Somnus had arrived at his destination. Her abode, for the time being. What a shame it was, he thought to himself, that he could be stopped by such trivial things as physical doors. An unfortunate side effect of the mortality of most things, and of his recent absence from the waking universe. A mental note was made to no longer take centuries-long "cat naps" when a decade or two would suffice just as well. A quiet, internal sigh was also made as a series of light, wooden and earthen chains delicately sunk out of the surrounding woodwork to support the body in his arms while he unlocked the door.
Once inside he would lay her down atop her bed, and hover over its foot. From there he would just watch, and wait for his new pet to awaken. She was going to have a lot of work in front of her, and he preferred to give instructions to his subjects personally.