Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

~ An Ending ~

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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on April 10th, 2014, 12:10 pm

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She hadn’t anticipated this scenario, control of the formalized bout of aggression slipping all too quickly towards insanity and escalating towards something far more final than she was willing to accept at that moment – her death. She was aware that the depths of Fallon were dark, almost unfathomable in nature, but this was beyond even what she had imagined. Fallon wasn’t so much unleashing her skills as she was unleashing the entirety of her darker nature at her – as far as she could tell between the blows that rocked her consciousness with their power. She didn’t look it, arms slender, but the strength was great in her punches and clawing. Her head snapped into various directions as knuckles impacted and slip her lip, cheek and she was sure much of her face would swell very quickly. Zandelia was a better fighter but this was like facing suicide.

She doesn’t care about herself, only about getting at me! She’s petching lost it! was all she could think as she blocked another series of blows, shaking her head and desperately seeking a way out of the predicament.

“Argh! Petch me!” she screamed as the teeth bit into her forearm and deeply at that. She grabbed the woman’s hair to pull her off and was rewarded with a handful of strands as Fallon’s head whipped back and she could see the wildness in her eyes – she was feral.

Further blows rained, a kick to her abdomen pushing her backwards and giving a small respite within which to breathe and reassess the situation. Her vision worked double time, slowing the scene as adrenaline flooded her in what her body assumed were her last moments. Fallon was a brawler, not a fighter, and she had lost what thin grip upon sanity she usually seemed to possess. Fluid in motion but the attacks were easily read and she slapped a few of them aside before ramming her palm into the woman’s breast just as a fist glanced into her own shoulder. She grunted and ducked another before using a kick to push Fallon back. All the while her mind was fired and seeking a solution.

Feral, feral. Animal. Prey, I’m the prey. She wants me but anger is close to other emotions. Wrath even more so. How do we use that? Is it even usable? God’s if I survive this I’ll give her a damned bite back she promised as she stepped to the side and eluded Fallon by pushing the arms away once more.

She didn’t evade the next one though, Fallon came in quickly and instead of throwing a punch went for a grapple to the clothing. That was bad, it was more difficult to break than if it had been upon her wrist and it meant she no longer had the advantage of distance. The other fist came around and that growl of a word told her everything she needed to know. She wanted Zandelia dead, not injured but dead. Truly this was not Fallon, or rather it wasn’t the Fallon the other woman wanted to be. She wasn’t a murderer, she could be pulled back. Somewhere, underneath the maelstrom, she knew her Fallon was there. She looked into the eyes as one hand slipped around the other woman’s waist and the other hand came around to clasp around the incoming fist – muscles bunched as she slowed it and stopped it mid-approach.

“You want me dead Fallon? Fine, I’ll let you kill me as I can’t bring myself to kill you. Allow me one, last, favour though. Please” she grunted the words out almost as the struggle for supremacy continued.

It had to be quick, the appeal she was going to attempt, or it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t even sure if it would work at all but she was damned if she wasn’t going to try it all the same – something she had wanted to do for some time indeed. If she was to die then she would have what she wanted. She shifted her body and pressed it against the woman, the hand holding the fist releasing it and letting it slam into her ribs – she rode the pain and the now free hand grabbed the back of Fallon’s head and forced their lips together in fulfilment. Intimacy amidst the battlefield. The hand upon the waist squeezed Fallon tightly into a half-embrace and she closed her eye to better relish the moment and store the memory away.

Perhaps my spirit will remember it after I am dead she told herself as she enjoyed the moment before letting the woman go and stepping back.

Now you can kill me” she put her arms up in the universal symbol of defeat.

Of course she would continue to fight back if required but she hoped that the shock of what she had just done would bring the woman back – it was the only key she knew into the heart of Fallon that always seemed to work. Well…one way or another. It could potentially drive her frenzy further but it was a gamble because she had no other options left open to her.
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on April 10th, 2014, 2:38 pm

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Zandelia gave a scream and Fallon gave a roar. Blooded, hungry, the darkness of her insides ripping forth in a flood. She could not control it, her will could not bind it back down into the cage it belonged in. Sealed, locked shut and held back. Even her ego screamed in repulsion to this shadow of a self. It brimmed and hummed outside of her control, rampaging as she was pulled back. Eyes gave a burn, the instinct wrestling internally as she was pushed back. She bent double, the air escaping her as ribs complained in response before she bounced back.

The mind screamed, sharp and piercing as the women were brought into a grapple of supremacy. Within the ego fluttered, panicking alongside with the pulse adrenal, the faint whisper in the internal chaos that ruled. Balance had been lost, the scrabbling sense of self trying to grab onto anything and halt what was quickly unravelling. She did not want to hurt Zandelia, she did not want to show this monster of a side upon the surface or the death of someone she had grown attached to. She wanted to be the shield, the guard, the protector of the people's darkness - not the cause of it.

Words rung in her ear, the holding close as she continued to struggle. The warmth pressed, the hold tightening and the holding back of one of her flails. Digging her feet into the ground, she pressed and staggered, her form pressing up against in response. Her heart stumbled, a loud snort as she snarled in response. Jerking her hand away, she brought it forth that punch into the side. The splayed fingers caught the back of her head, knotting in with the hair as she was reeled in. Fallon's hands released their hold, the mind clawing out for anything to grasp upon. A lifeline out of the darkness that ruled. The muscles pulled back, the fist clenching to punch once more looking to strike upon the woman.

Stillness. For a moment there was nothing, a void, no thought, no feelings, the slate of the mind going blank in an instant. Muscles relaxed, the arm looking to strike trembling in mid flight. The snarl fell, the lips relaxing as the counteracting embrace took the wild animal. And it was in that instant that the chains wrapped around, binding, tightening and pulling back the feral nature. It existed for a while, the taste of blood and lips, of desires being fulfilled. It came as a strain, the gnawing emptiness from previous times tightening and leaving the heavy despising weight upon her heart. A craving, a lust, a want for more.

Feet gave a stagger way as she was released, the arms falling limp and the shoulders hunching in. Her eyes were wide, the sweet taste and warmth still upon her lips. She gave a sway, thoughts and emotions barely stuttering into life. She was kissed, she was taken into the embrace of intimacy by a woman - Zandelia no less. Her breathing came as a strain, rattling as air forced its way in. The world turned into a blur, her eyes blinking the colours that swum. Zandelia has kissed her. A knee gave a buckle beneath her, the throbbing aches making themselves known.

What had happened? That side of her broke out. Chaos insured and she had no control. Lips spat, the taste of blood escaping in a dribble. She could still feel the hold. Arms shook, her mind surfacing through the hazy water as she got her bearings. Suck it up. Keep it in. Find the chains - bind it. Her head swum as she took in the brightened daze. She had no will to fight Zandelia now - not whilst things seemed so hopeless. Her hand splayed out across the ground, her form shuddering as she maintained balance. Whilst the physical held however, the mental gave a tremble and a crumble.

"Sss... Stop," she managed to croak in a husky tone. Her eyes looked up to Zandelia from beneath her brow. Long gone was the feral look, of a wild and untamed nature; instead stood the gaze of a human, lost, confused, and wrought with a deep emotional pain. Lips gave a tremble, the throat constricting. Anger, strain, a pain from within. And one that hurt. She spoke again, her voice cracking this time.

"Stop..." she began, her temple throbbing. She bit her lip, before they broke and trembled. Eyes screamed, her form tensing as she met the gaze through her injuries. The air was sucked in, a final cry out of pain to the woman opposite her, "Stop playing with my heart!"
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on April 10th, 2014, 3:34 pm

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Her arms slipped down to slap at her upper thighs numbly, the pains of her injuries beginning to make themselves known now that the adrenaline was fading fast and the imminent threat of death was erased from existence. She would be fine for the evening she knew, would be able to work out of muscle memory and instinct, but the following morning was going to be an agony for her. It was surely nothing, nothing approaching the level of pain of pain that slammed through her chest at Fallon’s words – for the first time in her life she was utterly speechless. She had nothing to say, only a slacken end face at the shock of the scene before her and the words thrown at her like arrows that left their mark deeply. She didn’t know what to say, what to feel of even what was going on. Her vision swam and she herself staggered on the spot, right leg stepping back to try for balance but losing it and she was brought to her left knee.

Why would she say those words? Does she think I’m really that much of a heartless little bi-…she does doesn’t she? That I would play with her…when I made a promise to…no this is all wrong. It shouldn’t be like this her mind rebelled at the very idea proposed to her as she drew in a ragged breath, but it was. There was no changing it, that somehow she had made Fallon feel like, like a toy. She shook her head and pressed the back of her hand to her lips as she attempted composure.

“Fall…I…It’s,” she tried to say the words but they wouldn’t be pressed from her, her throat closed up and wouldn’t allow their passage.

She drew in another deep breath and looked away, cursing the world and all of its stupidity. Even Fallon, the smartest woman she knew, had ever known, was stupid sometimes it seemed. It was enough to make her laugh, had she been under different circumstances. A small trail of tears flowed tracked its path over her cheekbone and towards her chin – it stung her in several places and that told her Fallon’s blows had broken her skin in several places. She drew in another ragged breath, the third and final before looking at Fallon, seeking out her eyes and all but crawling over to her. There was an anger within her that was bubbling, that she could be so accused of being so heartless but now was not the time to release it.

No, now is the time for the truth, gods help me she shuddered internally.

“You…you…you idiot” she managed to speak finally after licking her lips a few times and putting all of her focus into it, the last word accompanied with a tone of tired resignation.

“You think I would play with that? After everything I have learnt, have been shown…what you’ve told me. You think I would play with it like some cheap little toy? Why? What for? If I wanted to know about you then I’d read your books, get you drunk or…anything but that” she protested, her voice was more of a soft whisper towards the end.

She shook her head mutely, fists clenching upon the floor told the other woman all she needed to know about her feelings in that regard – she would never stoop so low as to manipulate that for her own means, for fun. Not Fallon’s at least. She had chosen the most emotionally inept person to actually show affection for and now, as she knew it would one day, it had bitten her back – sooner than she had imagined. Lhex worked quickly when it was her pain to be gained it seemed. She looked at Fallon again, this time her gaze was as steady as she could make it and she grasped for the hand she knew so well.

“I am not playing Fallon,” she stated, words of hard truth, “and I wouldn’t do that to you. I made you a promise remember? To protect you. How could I do that if I just…ripped your heart to…” the words trailed off.

“I didn’t know what to do! You were going to kill me, you told me to die! I wasn’t about to kill you to stop you killing me because I care too much about you!” the final confession spilled out in a babble that was quite out of character and released into the world without her thinking about it. She sighed and sagged her head down.

“And now…I really need to kill someone to…oh petch it all” she fell sideways and rolled onto her back with a wince of pain.

And she loves me. Well, maybe not. But cares about me. No one says something like she did without meaning it. Not the way she did. She thinks I’ve been toying with her and I thought she wasn’t really interested. What a pair we make. Both wrong about the closest people to us. And we’re supposed to change Sunberth? Shyke she closed her eye and placed her hands over both sockets as she tried to rub the tension away without causing too much pain.
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on April 10th, 2014, 5:37 pm

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Fallon did as she did best - she fell into a state of silence. Large eyes stared upon Zandelia, her lip trembling as she tried to make some form of sense of what was going on. She had spoken without thinking, or at least that was probably what the woman was first going to think. Then she was probably going to wave away the words as nothing more than a moment of childish weakness. But instead, the woman staggered and swayed, stunned in Fallon's final outburst. She had caused pain, she had cause torment and confusion. She was no shield - just a jagged blade that hacked up perfectly good flesh.

Lips gave a tremble, the dulled beat of the heart pulsing within her ears. She'd made Zandelia cry, she had caused suffering. For a moment there was a lean forward, the hand fumbling to get close and to reach out, her mind screaming within - Don't cry! No tears now!. Her mouth opened to say something, a word, a feeling, an acknowledgement that it would be alright. A croak resounded out, and her gaze lowered to the floor. She did not deserve the right to speak, to answer, to feel. She was a danger, a threat, a monster that was better left bound. Her hand pulled back, and the emotional walls began to slowly build their way up. There was no response to the protests, no awakening moment.

A steady retreat was in play. It was safe there. Locking oneself away from the world, an ultimate state of control. Let nothing in, and let nothing out. She did not look to the gaze, she did not respond to the clenching of the floor or the subtle change in position. Her breathing rattled, quick short intakes of air that barely registered in her panicked mind. She rested upon her knees now, her eyes fixated upon the hands and the form shaking. She knew what she had done, she knew what she had let out. And now, it was up to her to do what must be done - no matter the cost.

Hands limply rested upon her knees, her entire form crumpling, weak and out of strength. Why did things seem so distant? Why were things always so hard to grasp? To feel left a point of exposure, an opening in which a weakness could be found and felt. The heart screamed, festering in its new found self inflicted emotional wound. Snuff it out, kill it, destroy it. Her face stilled, no recollection to the damp that formed on her face. Fingers stroked against her hand, looking and searching for a partner. A knee jerk reaction came, her gaze rose, fearful, worried, torn behind those watery eyes. It hurt, it stung, her hands snapped back in recoil.

"Don't touch me!" she pulled away, her words a whisper laced with a sharp pain. She remembered the blooded roar, the snap of a feral animal coursing through her. She was a danger, a risk to the woman, and the closer the two got the more strained such a relationship would become, "I don't... I don't want to hurt you. Anymore." She needed to end it, and end it now. Cut it off before it came into bloom, "I just... just... I'm sorry... I just..."

She sucked in the air, her gaze lowering once more to those hands. The knuckles hurt, the signs of where they had made contact began to show across her arms. They gave a blink, the faint sting upon her cheeks the tears continued to roll. She should not feel, she should close it off, to live in a world of isolation away from people. Yet the mind gave a wrestle once more, caught, tangled in the internal strife for what happened and the longing of what it desperately craved.

The body gained a mind of its own, stiffly moving so she hovered over. Swallowing she looked down onto Zandelia, her hands still trembling as she looked down. She had let the woman in when she knew it was better not to, she had let the emotions that lay dormant consume her very words and ego. Everything was running high, tense, suffocating whilst logic fought with emotions. She wanted to do the right thing, to speak how she felt, yet even now she stumbled. Words failed her as the trembling fingers reached out, the tips gently pulling on the woman's to look upon her face. There was a nervous swallow, her eyes meeting for a moment. The other hand came round then, fingers lightly resting upon the cheek as she stared. Lips twitched, silent words falling out as she looked down, the hard lump having formed in her throat.

It was a choice, a crossroad within her mind. On one side she could have walked on, to let her fingers slip away and seal herself shut indefinitely. To forget the world of emotions, to forgo any serious attachment outside of business and work. Smother it, kill it, destroy it. A lonely life, but there would be no more chances of pain - just the old injuries that festered throughout the silent years. Fallon's lips twitched, her head leaning in slightly. Isolation for protection, safety for the emotions. How quickly could she get up and leave if need be and scatter things to the wind. To run and to keep on running - and most importantly, never look back no matter what.

But Fallon was done running.

Pain distorted for a moment, that craving longing as the finger traced down to the chin. It was there that it held, her eyes softening as the whole world simply vanishing to the back of her mind. It was just her and Zandelia now after all, no one else right now. Impulse? The moment? Or simply not wishing to no longer live in regret? There was a swallow, a flicker of hesitation, the hand releasing the fingers as she looked deeply. A whisper barely fell out a moment of self recollection and steeling, "I'm... done running away."

Fallon took the plunge. She leaned in and let their lips meet into a kiss.
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on April 10th, 2014, 6:50 pm

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She breathed deeply, or as deeply as she could considering the state of what felt like every rib being bruised and probably swelling nicely. She wondered where it had all gone wrong, it had been such a simple premise. She needed help, so she went to Fallon – the one person who always helped her, for free too she had assumed. Except it wasn’t for free at all, it had been hidden underneath the actions but the sub-text of their relationship was now on display, raw to the world like a fresh wound. It shouldn’t have happened that way, with the rage and the stupidity of instinct. She had wanted to give her gifts, a network and more. Then again, nothing was ever simple with Fallon. She was an inferno waiting to inflame at the slightest spark.

Perhaps it would have been better to bruise her face a bit and knock her unconscious. You always think Zandelia, you assess and tell people how you do it just to impress them. Or cause fear. Why didn’t you do it this time? Because you’re an idiot. And now it’s all gone to Hai and…idiot she berated herself from the safety of the back of her hands, grimace upon her lips exposing a slit of white.

She had to get out, go finish the job she had set herself for this night and leave the other woman there to her ruminations of feral insanity. She was injured now of course and wearing naught but a bloody shirt having given her own one to Fallon. She would probably die, take her father with her perhaps. She could burn the place down with herself and the bastard within. One final act that truly mirrored the way she felt, one inferno to briefly match that of the woman she had unwittingly toyed with. She couldn’t careless at that moment. After this night she couldn’t remain part of the Scars, would have nothing to do but odd jobs and pointless gambits. Better to die in glory than to peter out, a useless old crone whom everyone mocks secretly – except she would know it, what an ending that would be. It seemed foolish as she had only known Fallon for perhaps just shy of a season. Yet she had had such a profound effect the idea of carrying on without her ideas was now repulsive – better to die.

Why had she been so careless. It was the first rule she had ever learnt the hard way – don’t get close to people. Anyone. Clients, friends, everyone. Always hold back, don’t dive in beyond the verbal. Never penetrate beyond the incongruous and definitely don’t allow emotion to rule, don’t let anyone in. Yet she had, she had broken her own cardinal rule. She had cared, had grown attached to and now it had merely destroyed what had been so promising. If she thought that feral Fallon had been monstrous then how could she look at herself and not see the same? Without meaning to she had damaged, had struck something beyond pain into the other woman. To have pulled her out of insanity with a simple kiss…she must have tortured her terribly over the past score of days or so. She could have wept, she started. Wetness plastered the back of her hand and the sobs wracked her chest.

She doesn’t know it of course but her dream became mine. Sunberth, the city that rose from the gutter. Transformed. The butterfly of cities and a legacy worth fighting for. Nothingness now, an empty space where only the dead roam she sighed and was about to get up and leave when the fumbling fingers pulled her right hand away. Oh good, she remembered what side her vision was on so she could see the torment there – marvellous.

Except there wasn’t, not the kind that she had expected. She opened her eye slowly, not sure she wanted to look into those sea-green pools in case her resolve shattered and she stayed despite the futility of doing so. She didn’t want to see her break down again – twice she had and she had caused it. She didn’t deserve to stay. Finally, slowly, she locked the gaze and tried not to flinch but all she saw was someone deep in thought. No words were needed, she remembered the set of that expression from the playing in the woods though this time it was different. It was deeper, more meaningful suddenly hope flared from within her. The resting of the fingers upon her cheek, the tracing upon flesh, the twitching lips leaning slightly closer. Her pulse quickened and longing replaced all sense of depressive self-destruction all too neatly.

Then the hesitation and the flinch. Her eye widened and hope was crushed along with desire.

No, no don’t do this! Don’t hint and then run away. Again. I can’t take this anymore! I have to get out, run, escape the tendrils. Better that way. No more disappointment, no more pointless games and unfulfilled loose ends. Get out. Get up. Go. Go you stupid old hag! she tried to will her limbs into motion through pure stubbornness. She closed her eye in the silent supplication.

"I'm... done running away."

Then the lips came, meeting her own and her eye shot open once more in pure surprise. For once, in the realm of the physical where she was so sure she floundered under the weight of that simplest of expressive acts. It meant more than anything else to the other woman, the sharing of the body. Hope no longer reigned, in its place sat fulfilment upon its gorgeous throne. She ceased rationalization, or any sort of thought at all and instead her hands came up to cup that pretty face and she danced in pure enjoyment. They were so soft, gentle as the small pressure pushed down and she reciprocated by pushing back upwards. She tasted of sweet fruit and her scent filled her nostrils – overpowering her senses. She had kissed many women but this, this was different. It wasn’t the pushing grapple of tongues, the need to compete for dominance. It was a simple sharing, a fulfilment of past moments. Lust incarnate reared its head but she pushed it back – it wasn’t appropriate. It was difficult but for Fallon she would wait. Already had waited. It seemed too quick but eventually the kiss was broken. She held Fallon’s head close for a few moments.

“Thank you” was all she said, looking into the eyes and raising her own head for another smaller brush of the lips before letting the woman go. The meaning was clear if unspoken, she had been allowed inside the walls and given the hardest burden of trust to bear. The same words spoken by Fallon when she had learnt her true name. She grinned dopily up at the woman, she couldn’t help it.

“And I’m done pretending. Gods help you Fallon. Gods help you” she laughed then, rich and deep and unstoppable. Pure contended laughter.
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Last edited by Zandelia on April 12th, 2014, 3:25 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on April 10th, 2014, 8:10 pm

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It was warm, pleasantly so - if not for the occasional sting from dulled aches and bruises. She pressed, the flickering of surprise existing on the threshold between them and was then swept away. Zandelia of course had met the gaze, the moment of pain when she flinched and hesitated, that deep mutual craving existing. Fingers traced and cupped, a gentle lead in and holding. Matched, accepted, and taken in.

There was nothing to be scared of, there was no waking fear of rejection or disgust, no crushing of the heart within her hands. It was the opposite. Encouraging, nurturing, it allowed the seed of growth and the allowing of worries to be brushed away and destroyed for just a little while. Her lids cracked open slightly as she pulled away, a soft exhale and the eyes swimming with emotions. Relief, pleasure, a level of understanding between them. The walls fell down, the key was given to the woman before her and it was now up to her to use it.

Gently, Fallon pressed her forehead against the woman's a low hum escaping and the glance down to the eye. A blush had traced its way across her cheeks, breathlessness as she held there. Lips gave a twitch, a gentle smile forming as she met it. Of course, she did not quite believe it was happening - it was alien to allow someone in all the way, to allow them entrance and to show the true raw emotions. There was a second brush of lips, a gentle exhale as the ideals were solidified and those words were whispered. Noses gave a brush, a quick kiss upon the forehead before she withdrew.

Her heart in honesty was still racing, the moment of ecstasy consuming her mind. It felt unreal, but as the ticks passed by and Fallon took a seat next to the head of the woman did it all begin to make sense. It felt right, natural and unforced. Pure in intent. Eyes blinked, her fingers gently twiddling and playing with the hair, silent as she simply smiled down onto the dopey expression. Head tilting to one side she listened to the laughter that cracked through the air. Her hand withdrew, resting itself upon her lap as she simply watched - content that the woman had managed to find joy in this.

A smirk, a curling of the lips as she listened and promptly eased herself into lying back. Somewhere the niggling reminder of what still needed to be done. Of course, it could wait a while, let the moment of peace and joy rest upon the aching minds and then move on once more. Stretching in the blouse, Fallon gave an scratch at the collar and then glanced back down to the woman once more, "I have decided. I prefer shirts. Blouses are... uncomfortable."

With a definite nod she gave a grin, her expression soft and her finger snaking round to tap her on the nose. It was only then that it began to harden slightly, "I... are you roughed up enough now?" she did not want to speak about the feral nature that welled up within and surfaced. That could wait for another time under different and less pressing circumstances. Like the reminder of having to kill. Her brow creased slightly, a stolen glance once more before she raised her head to look around the tent and the discarded equipment. How long would it be before they moved out? How long before they would have to become killers for one reason or another?

Fallon knew she could cope with blood, it was in her nature as a mercenary - killing was always a weighted risk and one she would have to face regardless of her desires. Zandelia however, she was unsure about; but she did feel it was far from her normal nature to do so much killing. She may have been intelligent, but she was not of the blooded sort. A finger gave a tap on the woman's lips, a gentle gesture before once more the hand withdrew, "Are you comfy down there? And yes, pretending is rather... tiring."

A smile, her eyes looking up to the entrance a moment of thought wrapping itself upon her face. That question was running upon her bruising jaw, a careful choosing of wording, "How... How long have we got?" There was a pause, a brief licking of lips as she focused upon the woman concerned, "And... you going to be alright?"
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FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on April 10th, 2014, 10:58 pm

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The soft pressure of forehead upon forehead was akin to the locking of a door, she had stepped through and across the threshold and now she was within the room that she was not sure anyone had ever seen, the door shifting shut behind her and trapping her within. She held no complaint whatsoever, she would do the same and though fear still held sway over the parts of her that were the most logical and condescending it couldn’t hope to match the rest of her and its assent to such a sharing of natures. The key, ever to be let in when locks were opened – both ways. Not instantly of course, time would be required for everything if it decided to be worthy of learning but that promise accompanied the hum that escaped Fallon’s throat. She recalled the old stories, of how such things were proclaimed for the city to know – such a foolishly fanciful idea. Where was the personalisation with such an act?

This is your heart then Fallon? Relaxed and happy? For now at least. An island amidst the tempests, respite much required. An enjoyable space she noted as she tried to keep the other woman in visual contact – it was difficult, her neck craning upwards far too uncomfortably.

Even though the brushes of fingertips were enjoyable, sending shivers through her despite the almost overly simple expression they represented – perhaps because of them if she admitted truth – she rolled over onto her front and groaned slightly as pressure was exerted upon a multitude of bruising, all upon her front. There had been no other avenue of assault after all. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the cool floor before pushing herself upwards and looking at the flaps of the tent. She looked at Fallon and shook her head ruefully.

“I knew you’d make me get up, far too comfortable for me. Might get complacent. Can’t have that can we m’dear? And yes I will call you that in private. So there,” she sighed and forced herself to her feet before tottering slowly, accompanied by a few sharp inhalations of breath, towards the flaps of the tent and used her fingers to wriggle them open long enough to get a glance at the sky – fading and fading quickly, Syna slipping almost beyond the horizon. She breathed in and let it out slowly with a minor grumble.

“Maybe two Bells, probably less. The guards change soon after sundown for their shift and it lasts 3 Bells. Better be in place for just before se we can see it and assess. Or I can assess and you can learn. Dark comes slowly still here, at this time of year. Hopefully you’ll see it in summer when it sends the dew glistening, you like that I recall.” she turned and smiled slightly at that fact – she knew some things better than Fallon, if not many of them.

She turned and looked upon the woman before her, reclined neatly and so comfortably. It was probably her imagination but she liked to think that she was more relaxed than at any time she had spent with her since arriving in the city of grime. An appealing fancy but as she took the scene in she was unable to shut out the side of her mind that liked to analyse everything within an inch of its life. Now that she knew it backtracked and told her everything that she required to know and at that point didn’t want to hear but was forced to anyway. It took everything in, the tent, the belongings and Fallon herself with her garb discarded in imitation of the lack of armour she now possessed – so beautiful. She tried to stop it but it came from too deeply within her – it sought to point out her mistakes.

Disguise is always a self-portrait, a suggestion of what the person really is despite their efforts. I missed it. She wore armour, always. Only when I pressed and wheedled did she not. Protection. Now she doesn’t, she has forgotten or so it seems. She isn’t lying. She knows what she is doing, what she wants and sh- she pushed the thoughts away as politely as she could given the circumstances, stifling them under her heightened mood.

“Yes, you know how tiring as much as I do,” she responded to the questions as she made her way towards the other woman slowly, feet placed precisely, “it feels nice to finally be honest. In a world of lies a truth shines out all the brighter. I imagine that is something you would say but I claim it for my own this time” she sat down next to Fallon then and took her left arm gently.

“I am adequately…subdued I think. Though tomorrow I think we will both need rest and relaxation. I’ll go and get us some medicine if required. But for now, I wanted to show you something. I can read you, you know? Well, a little. I don’t know if you can me…but… I wanted to give you a means. Just for you. Like this” she pressed the two forefingers of her right hand against Fallon’s wrist joint and looked into her eye as she counted.

“Elevated pulse, red cheeks, dilated pupils. You can learn a lot form someone’s pulse when you observe...so I have heard. It can’t lie you see, it betrays people. Or in this case…helps them,” she pressed Fallon’s fingers to her own wrist and smiled as she felt the contact drive the responses with her body, “now you know that I respond just the same. I give it to you. You will likely figure out more but…a gift is a gift” she tilted her head to the side a little and brought the fingers up to place to her lips for a moment.

This was the Fallon she knew, the relaxed set of the body and an almost daring silent shout to underestimate her, she had done so herself several times and regretted that. The half-closed eyes that she gazed upon and observed the world with quietly. Not as Zandelia assessed of course, hers was a different kind of watching. It was built from wisdom rather than intelligence. It was something she admired, though she wasn’t about to admit that for all of the teasing considering the woman’s mood and tone of voice. All doubt was snuffed out by the steady rhythm underneath her fingers as they had probed Fallon’s wrist – what little had remained.

“I will be fine, and I am far more comfortable here thank you very much. Just need a little stretch before the work begins. So much work,” she pulled at the bloody shirt, dry now from the exertions apart from her sweat and sighed at having to keep it in before laying down and draping an arm over her waist.

“Strange how things go, don’t you think? Oh for Eyris’ sake stop fidgeting, I was trying to make another point. Insufferable youth” she chastised gently as Fallon kept wriggling about, she sighed as she put her head down to the floor and enjoyed the simplicity of closeness.

"Are you hungry? We could have dinner. If there is anything left. Not sure about you but I think I might need it. Here or we could pick it up along the way?"
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Last edited by Zandelia on April 12th, 2014, 8:59 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Zandelia
I Aim To Misbehave
 
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on April 11th, 2014, 10:30 am

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"Fine, you can call me m'dear," Fallon gave only a smirk, her eyes following the woman around to the tent flaps. Her tone changed to that of a tease, "But only if I can give you such a name in response." There was a blink, her gaze once soft flickering now to that of a hardened mind. Soon they would have to move out, to answer what needed to be done. There was a swallow, and then a nod, "You recall correctly. And you like daffodils..." there was a pause as she tried to think carefully and searched for an answer on her face, "I think?"

Propped up on her elbows, she continued to watch with the subtle curl of the lips as she took it the faint glow of light barely cracking through. Of course, the woman was thinking about something - carefully. The gentle tread of feet, the subtle placing of words as she sat down. Her head inclined, lips pursing as she tried to work out what was going on behind that green emerald. Fingers gave a drum, the subtle crease of her brow before it eased off. No use over thinking about it, it would only create those niggling doubts that she presently wished to keep away - else it was spoil the moment.

"Only imagine?" Fallon queried and let the woman take her arm gently. There was no restraint this time, only the gentle shifting of weight so she could gain a better view. There was only a gentle shudder as the warm tips brushed across the sensitive skin, follow by a gentle snort. Her gaze lifted to meet, a gentle blush as the staring continued. There was the chew of the lip, a single eyebrow raising as the forefingers met her wrist. "Tomorrow... tomorrow I would like it just to be... us. No one else. I mean... if you want that of course."

The pressing fingers reminded her slightly of a doctor, or something of such a similar profession would do - not that she completely understood why she was doing such a thing until an explanation came. There was a blink, surprised almost to the analysis of Doctor Sansom and then fell to a low, purring question. Her free hand gently held Zandelia's chin, her eyes staring deeply in look, "So... what did you learn about me then?" There was only a flicker down to Zandelia's own wrist when her fingers met it, the quick beating coming from the veins beneath her skin.

The glow, the spark, the subtle look of mischief upon the features, that glistening of the eye as she continued her focus. There was a smirk, a moment of careful investigation for a clear view of what was exactly going on, "Well... someone seems excited. Can't think about what." A playful wink, the gentle kiss on the fingers that placed upon her lips before she began behaving herself - now was not the time. Her hands withdrew, and once more Fallon let herself observe the creature that lay before her.

Reclining back, Fallon let her head touch the floor and her eyes stare up at the canvas ceiling before her. It was perhaps only the final few bells before the end, that calm before the impending storm. And it was such a thought that made her fidget. She wanted to do something, anything, and in response it was the twiddling of fingers and thumbs that gave it away. Or at least until she received the telling off from the woman. Pausing it she snapped her gaze back and released a mumble, "Sorry, I'm just worried."

A truth. She was worried. That whatever she had just gained would be lost to her tonight, that the woman before her would be ripped to pieces without a moment of notice. It came as a strain, and one that was growing apparent on her face. Of course, she would not allow such a thing to happen for as long as she lived - an iron will and pure determination decided that one. Exhaling she let the quivering tension slide out between her lips, "So, what point where you trying to make then? Speaking my Goddess' name must have meant it was important."

It was hard not to reach out and touch, to have some thin sliver of self control. Now was not exactly the correct time to become clingy and tactile. Of course, such things were hard to resist. Rolling onto her side, she propped her head up with a hand whilst the other worked on tracing circles between them. She was thinking, carefully.

"I'm always hungry, but," she paused, "I do have supplies, I just..." There was a shake of the head, her words swirling round to get into some semblance of order, "I don't like the idea of eating if I'm going to go out and kill. But, if you're hungry and want to eat," She gave a gesture to the tent and the surrounding articles, "Knock yourself out." There was a reassuring smile, her fingers returning to their drawing, "I will eat once we have done the task of tonight, okay?"

Soon. Soon they would have to make a move. And then it was up to Fallon to pull it off successfully. For both of them.
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FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on April 11th, 2014, 11:05 pm

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“Yes,” she responded warmly, “you remembered. Daffodils. You want a name for me? Of course, I would like that, make me feel special. I’m sure you’ll choose wisely. You are you after all” she smiled, thoughts finally beginning to drift towards the initial premise behind the meeting of the evening.

It was difficult, to know that despite how much she wanted to stay with the other woman in the tent and while the evening away with simple things that there was work to do – work that wouldn’t wait. Of course the progression of the evening so far had been far from easy, had ventured completely beyond the boundaries of what had been intended. Strangely, or perhaps not, the idea of launching their veiled assault was less appealing now. As her mind worked her hand moved up and down the other’s abdomen unwittingly, idly. Whilst before there had been a consuming desire for vengeance and a cold indifference to the murder she now felt something foreign. She felt fear. She was not prone to it, it was a quality that always managed to get you killed and so as a survival instinct it had been thrown aside. Now it had returned, creeping in with the shifting priorities.

If before I had doubted she would run should I fall, discarding the promise we made to each other at my request now…now she won’t. I know she won’t. It’d be like asking her not to breathe. And that means the danger is now two-fold. I can’t her thoughts began to undermine her but as the soft kiss to the fingers and the grasping of her jaw was felt they dissipated – for now. She looked into the orbs, always so confident and now mischievous.

“Learnt? I learnt that what your mind told you not to have your pulse demanded. So, in this instance your heart is wiser than your mind,” she grinned back, tilting her head to the side in pure enjoyment for a moment and her finger snaking out to tap upon Fallon's lips, “even though I say it is so myself. That even the wise can be foolish. And that I was too. I will do better in the future” she responded, not quite maintaining that cryptic way of speaking she normally managed to use.

“Oooh, mischievous Fallon. I remember her. I’m sure you’ll figure it out m’dear, I’m quite simple when it comes down to it” a look of mischief crossed her own face at that and the spectre of what she truly wanted to do flickered within her mind’s eye, “as for tomorrow I can’t think of anything finer. Nothing at all” she sighed at the idea warmly, it was a beautiful suggestion. Time together that was snatched from them this night transplanted into the morrow. Things were too muddied now, heightened beyond the ability to contemplate truly. Time for reassessment would be needed for the both of them she suspected.

Priorities, at the very least, would require a radical rethinking with this new admission. She had had a careful list within her head, traced deeply upon her mind's eye that consistently reminded her of what came first - now she wasn't so sure. She required time to think, to weigh and come to a balance but this night would not be reserved for such a feat.

She stretched out her tired, beaten body and growled a little deeply in her throat as the pain of the damage and the sweet release of the stretch mingled through her for a few moments, her eye closed as her back arched. She pushed herself up reluctantly, a frown upon her brow at the commencement of their work – the damned work. She extricated herself from the soft touch of the other woman, looking at her and brushing her cheek in apology as she pushed herself to standing. It was time to begin she knew and she could almost feel Fallon’s desire to get it over and done with, the face slowly becoming more and more the mercenaries – though worry laced it this time and the words confirmed her thoughts. She paused, back to Fallon as she flinched at knowing that even her island of Skylar was not immune to it. She composed her face and turned to look down at her as kindly as she could muster.

“I know, I feel it too. It would be cruel wouldn’t it? To have this new dream shattered? But,” she sighed and her shoulder’s fell in the admission, “that brings me to my point. Kind of. I had always assumed the Gods hated me – if they even hate. But if you had not had Eyris’ love then you wouldn’t have been able to trick me. I wouldn’t be here, this night, in your tent. It’s funny almost, how such a small thing can change something beyond prediciton...I should probably start thanking her. So…I choose to believe that we will be fine. And if not well then Dira will have to deal with me because I'm not bloody dying, not now” she smiled, lips curling in protective instinct.

There was something bubbling beneath her, sifting through what she assumed had been mere pools of hate within her. It was a whisper but for once she stood to her fullest height – no bending of the knees, no hunching of the shoulders as if trying to sneak through the world. She had been wrong, there was more to her than what festered. She felt like a warrior now more than the spy. Oh her nature wouldn’t change she was sure, not immediately or perhaps not even overly much. She had always been sure but had never truly believed – in anything. As Fallon had had her doors opened so she had opened hers and something had slipped in over the season so far that she couldn’t put her finger upon. She felt as if she was glowing, a righteous fire, and she relished it before looking down once more.

“Not as refined as my normal speech I know but it has been emotional tonight so forgive me,” she looked down, stepping forwards and offering her hand to Fallon as her gaze drank her in, “and eating can wait. I trust your mercenary habits more than mine. I wouldn't know where to start in here anyway. Are you ready to join me, at the ending of this journey? The closing of the chapter?” she asked, allowing one last opportunity to decline and knowing that it wouldn’t happen.

It was more for the look of the thing, she wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t offer.

“Let’s go finish this and then tomorrow you will have the whole day with me incessantly annoying you with questions. Sounds like fun right?” she held fast to the idea that there would be a tomorrow – for both of them.

They had their plan, they had their abilities and now they had their newfound bond. She had often heard it said that the people who lasted were the ones who managed to walk through fire together and make it through – if not unscathed then at least alive. It made them stronger so they said. She had always found the idea that suffering caused strength. Now, however, she was able to see the glimmers of what the sayings meant. She would step into the inferno with the other woman and until she possessed no breath left she would seek to drag them out the other side. She could see that her thoughts were mirrored in Fallon’s eyes without even trying to.

Eyris, Akajia, Lhex, Tanroa, Dira, Syna, Leth...any deity that can listen or cares. Allow us to live through this night and I’ll do anything. Anything that doesn’t harm her. Give me the strength to shield her, to make sure she doesn’t fall. That she remain, only, Fallon Skylar she made the silent supplication and knew that it would not be answered. She wasn’t innately religious but she would change if it meant the closest to her survived and thrived.
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Zandelia
I Aim To Misbehave
 
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Past Erased IV - Safe House Slaugher [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on April 14th, 2014, 9:37 am

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"Sunshine?" Fallon began a testing of potential pet-names, "Your rather bright when you smile. Truly that is. Not sure if it works though."

There was only a gentle, playful nip of teeth when the finger tapped upon her lips before she withdrew. There was a look of contemplation, her eyes staring but her mind focusing on a plan. She had to slip into the mindset of a mercenary - something that was easy to do - and thus, look to cold, hard logic. There was a nod, a final smile before it dipped behind a neutral face. Now was the time to act, to reach up with heart and valour into the oncoming fight. Even she could feel the growing sense of putting things to rest once and for all. Watching the woman sit up she began her own rise, slower and gentler. Her sides were complaining slightly, but for the most part it was only a dull ache of annoyance from within. She was still able to fight, and now she had a point of focus with the allowance of a second chance of being a shield. Just as she should be.

She gave a cock of the eyebrow up to the woman, followed only by a gentle laugh, "Gods work in many a mysterious way. And later, later I will tell you more about her and the others. But for now," her face turned serious, her eyes steely if not filled with that flickering fire behind them. Taking herself onto one knee she raised her gaze up gently, her brow meeting into a line as she chose her words carefully, "As long as you allow it, I will do the same for you. Will you let me be your shield, not only for this night but from now on until you are sickened with me?" An odd request, but it was the final part of her establishing loyalty to the woman - a strange concept of honour and protection. She wanted to serve in this sense, to be there for whenever she was needed. The heart gave a firm beat, her head lowering slightly.

To be a rock, to be a support, to be a person who would always be there. If there was anything that Fallon still knew and held onto it was that titles were not needed to do what was right. So when the gaze of a warrior, a creature bound by such loyalties returned her gaze up to Zandelia did she give only a firm nod. She was ready for whatever was thrown her way, and she would not stop until it was at the end. Her hand reached forward and took the woman's firmly, a squeeze as it gripped onto it, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Pulling herself up to her feet, Fallon began the readying of herself. Clothing was pulled into place, her armour brought together to fit nicely upon her. All the while, the words of Zandelia sounded out into the silence in between. That throbbing energy, that buzz to clean and burn out the impurities - it was one that Fallon herself was feeling igniting inside her core. Placing the blades gently onto her person, the warrior wriggled the skin into the gloves and paused. It was time. She knew it was. That final flickering calm before the storm. Throwing the cloak over one shoulder she gave a look to Zandelia, "Your weapons, I need to hide what I can on my person. Then I shall bind you from... the back? Do not worry, I shall also release you discreetly at the first possible moment regardless."

There was a final glance back, her eyes looking about the tent and checking. First thing she would do when she returned would be tidying up, after that her attention would solely be on the woman. It was her personally decided duty after all. With the mane of hair being tied back she made the final necessary adjustments. The dagger - when it came - was tucked into her bracer with the hilt barely peaking out the back. The tonfa came next, and it was with a careful tuck of them into the belt and against her back that they rested. Taking the black cloak in her grasp she brought it up around her shoulders, her fingers carefully tying a knot that would slip free with a pull of the cord. From there she milled about the tent, claiming a long strip of fabric and presenting it to Zandelia.

"Tying up time," she breathed and moved behind the woman. For a moment she paused, thinking of the best way to go about it. Firstly she looped it round and then brought it diagonally across and then looped it round. From there she simply pulled it into place and brought it up around the top before finally tying it off. Placing a hand on Zandelia's shoulder she gave a final hard look that flickered to soft for a tick. With a lean in she allowed the lips to brush for a few ticks, a gentle kiss before she withdrew once more. The normal accent fell away, less rolling and replacing itself with the one she usually used as Bitzer, "Let's do this. Lead on prisoner."
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FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
User avatar
Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
Posts: 2062
Words: 2242110
Joined roleplay: January 21st, 2013, 4:24 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
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Medals: 9
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Artist (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
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