[Dreaming Lady] Welcome to Your Nightmare [Kovac]

[Chemar Tisserand]

With resolute posture, Chemar waited as Kovac sought to enforce some proprietary hold over her with a wash of his own blood. The only resistance she offered was the light pressure of her mouth pushed against his finger as he gave her lips the macabre stain of crimson, goading him to do more, to fight against her control of him. She tried to force him into offering her more insight into his heart, but he withdrew when he'd finished his act of rebellion, the horror of his actions written across his handsome features. The conflict between his actions, and how much further he would have chosen to carry them was crystal clear when she looked into Kovac's eyes, and as he backed away from her, she moved toward him, not letting him escape the vision he had created. The dim light reflected on the still liquid blood covering her face as she continued to walk toward him and her expression was one of satisfaction and mischief. Gold ringed eyes strayed to her hand as she lifted his heart to her lips. It was there she paused, watching his tension mount as he waited for her next action, he still did not realize that in the end, the control was his. Her lips parted, and pursed into a scarlet pout as she softly blew onto his heart. The same coppery breath was expelled from her mouth and it surrounded the heart like a clinging mist. With her eyes watching Kovac, she continued to expel her breath over his heart until the soft sound of fracturing ice could be heard. Turning to Kovac, Chemar smiled. "We have yet to deal with that arrow." She seemed to ignore the glaring fact that she was covered in his blood, calmly watching him as the coppery mist fell away. What had been a gruesome, blood-covered sight, beating in her hand, was now a crystalline heart encased in blood red glass, still beating, slower but continually. The heart had captured the dreamwalker's attention, she seemed a bit surprised that it was glass and not ice that surrounded the vital part of Kovac. She lifted to closer, inspecting the delicate glass shroud. "You've a problem with glass, do you?" She spoke as though she expected him to answer, but she had yet to return his speech. In a movement that seemed impossible for normal eyes to follow, she slammed her palm to his chest and forced him back to the wall with a loud SMACK! The arrow was forced back through his chest by the wall, though remained buried in his flesh. As soon as the palm touched his skin, all sensation of the arrows presence returned with a wash of searing pain. With no warning, her blood covered lips pressed to his, crushing against them. The soft warmth of her mouth distracted from both the pain of the arrow and the slow, animated peeling of the bloody mask from her face. As the intent of the kiss strayed from Chemar's misdirection to a moment of uncontrolled instinct the film of blood lifted from her porcelain skin to transfer its hold to the dark skin of the avora. As though alive, it moved of its own accord and soon became an indentical mask upon Kovac's face, but it did not stop there. As though seeping from a wound, the blood continued until it reached the wall, merging with the veins placed there by Chemar. The connection pulled Kovac tightly against the wall, trapping him there. Slowly, as with the blood on the heart, his scarlet mask begin to solidify, slowing mutating from blood to a constraining trap of glass. Chemar tore free from the kiss just as it threatened to sap all her control, bringing her fingertip to her swollen lips. The dreamwalker backed away, her heart pounding in the confines of her chest. There was a flush of color on her perfectly pale skin, free and clean from any hint of blood. Soon enough, she recovered her composure and stared at the motionless Kovac. She lifted the heart above her head, holding it there for a few moments before she threw it, with all her strength, the momentum drove it to crash against the floor. It shattered into a spray of crystal shards that flew in every direction. The rush of adrenaline that surged through her body was overwhelming. Her eyes flashed brightly as the sound of shattering glass rang all around them. The dreamwalker's breath grew shallow as her eyes scanned the floor. As with the blood of the living mask, every shard, chip and sliver of glass began to move...as though melted by a craftsman's flame, they turned from solid to liquid and began creeping silently across the floor. They searched until they found their 'brothers and sisters', then continued together until it was clear they would reform into the exact heart Chemar had shattered. With a hint of a malevolent smile, she raised her gaze to look at the face of Kovac. "Stubborn heart."

[Kovac]

There was no dark satisfaction in Kovac's face, no sense of defiance after he slathered Chemar's face in his blood. It had not phased the dreamwalker in the slightest, and as her full lips pressed against his blood-drenched fingers, his fear of her rose. Sharp green eyes widened at not only his actions but hers, and as he backed away from her, Chemar pursued him, still clutching his beating heart. The contradiction of the beautiful inarta and the bloody dreamwalker was disturbing, almost nauseating. She was a gorgeous ghoul. Again her riveting eyes caught his attention, and his gaze turned with hers to the heart in her hand. He watched with anxiety as she breathed her coppery breath over his organ. Chemar spoke of the arrow again, but Kovac's focus was on the heart in her hand as it became encased in crimson glass. It was the color that Kalle loved to work with most. The Avora's gaze lifted to Chemar as she taunted him. Yes, since he had been betrayed by his glass-working lover, Kovac had not worn, nor owned, anything made by the Inarta glassmakers. The pain of Kalle's rejection of him flooded back, the humiliation, the hatred that drove him into self-imposed social exile. If he had his voice, a whimper may have slipped from his mouth. The forceful shove from the Inarta drew his attention back to the beautiful, horrible sight of the blood splattered dreamwalker. He felt distinctly the hard rock as he was slammed against the wall, the intense pain of the iron arrowhead and the shaft that penetrated his flesh. Again his eyes widened in agony, his mouth agape, straining to release a cry. But the woman drew him in with the unexpected kiss, and as he squirmed slightly at the searing sensation of the arrow wound, The archer's emotions were poured into the embrace of their lips. He could taste the tang of iron in the blood on her lips, full and slippery as they were mashed against his own. At first he did not notice the migration of the crimson stains on her face, so intent on their connection. Too late he realized what was happening, and as Chemar pulled away, Kovac began to panic, straining against the glassy mask that held his head close to the wall. He knew even as the woman raised his glass heart up what she was going to do. Kovac did not understand all that had transpired, but he knew he did not want his heart destroyed, he struggled frantically, reaching out at her with clawing hands desperate to stop her, his eyes pleading. Kovac's chest heaved as he labored to breath, painfully aware of the lack of pounding that he expected to feel in his chest. His pathetic attempt to sway Chemar failed, and with what appeared to be joy, the woman cast his heart to the floor to shatter. After a frightful moment, his thrashing ceased as Kovac watched the tiny shards of his heart come together, forming again into the shape of his heart. Kovac's eyes raised to Chemar's with a flash of defiance, only to be dashed by her terrible wicked grin.

[Chemar Tisserand]

As each fractured bit of Kovac's heart found the path to join the others, Chemar watched, her head cocked curiously to the side. The flash of triumph that had lit the Avora's face for a split second was gone, eclipsed by what she saw as defeated submission. Too early for that... She stepped forward again, flicking the glass heart aside with the tip of her boot, listening for the crystalline -ting- before at slid across the floor. "Don't look so blue, Kovac, you'll get it back." The dreamwalker moved like a floating shadow, none of the usual sounds betraying her passage. She reached his side, and continued around him to stand at his back, the wall that had been acting as anchor for his prison dispelled by her presence. She pushed against the reaching tendrils of the mask, displacing it until it crashed as the heart had, onto the floor at his feet. But he was not free; Long pale fingers had crept onto his shoulder and her soft cheek pressed close to his. "Watch..." Through pursed lips she began to blow, dissolving the room around them as though it were made of fine sand and easily displaced by a single breath. When the breath left her full lips it took on a life of its own and began to swirl around them, slowly manifesting into the tumultuous world he had originally created. Snow covered and barren, harsh and unforgiving. The brutal wind cut against his skin, freezing him in his exposure until all sensation began to deaden. As the wind threatened to steal his senses, Chemar's lips found his cheek, they rested there, nothing more and the heat from her body crept over his skin like steam, warming him until he was shielded from any effects of the chaos surrounding them. Once he was protected by her warmth she began to pull away, her lower lip slipped over his skin, unwilling to leave it completely and immediately. He could feel the tips of long lashes graze his skin as she closed her eyes, pausing in that moment, then without a word, her lips were gone. Though free from that softness of her mouth he was still locked in place by the gentle touch of her hands. "Here is your second chance." Directed by her words, the image of Kovac's mother appeared to him, born out of the whipping wind. She stood less than his body length away from them, staring at her son with an unreadable expression, the bow still dangerously poised in her hands. "Have you anything to say?" Like a devil in his ear, the dreamwalker whispered. "Perhaps you would like revenge." Within his hands he now held a bow that mirrored his mother's, a lethal reflection of the one that made him. The weapon was poised to drive an arrow through her heart, the tip of the arrow barbed with jagged spears to tear into anything that met its bite. Chemar's breath seemed to push him to loose his vengeance upon the woman before him, the rise and fall of the Inarta's chest pressed to his bare back seemed to lend the beating of her heart to Kovac, to act as a surrogate for the empty space inside him. "Do it. " The words almost hissed from her lips, threading into his ear with snakelike precision. The bow began to lift, with no further spoken guidance it moved, driven by Kovac's hands but Chemar's will, intent shifting to threat as the barbed point aimed at his mother's chest. Everything was deathly still within the scope of Chemar's influence, no sound or movement to disrupt the sheer power of his vengeance. The only sign of life being the echo of the lent heart in his chest. "Take what you deserve...take her life. You've done it before." The sting of her words, cut into Kovac like a cold shard of ice, and he let the arrow fly. The Vantha made no attempt to dodge his attack, standing firm in her place as the arrow tore into her chest. As the spatter of blood painted her skin, a smiled curled her lips, and a look of complete love emanated from her eyes. The power of that look calmed the wind around them so when her body began to disintegrate into ash it fell to the ground in a peaked pile. Chemar moved around the Avora toward the remains of his mother, blocking his view of what was left. With a glance back at Kovac, she spoke, the malice absent from her lilting voice. "Her choice will always be her life for yours..remember that." As if to punctuate her words, she stared at him for a lingering moment, the yellow rings in her eyes still glowing brightly. She continued foward, crouching gracefully when she reached his mother. "Perhaps this will do." She no longer spoke to Kovac, her words now directed at something she'd retrieved from his mother's remains. With a palm pressed to her side, she pushed herself into standing and turned to face the immobile Kovac, in her hand, she grasped the shaft of his released arrow, the barbed point still lodged in his mother's beating heart. The heart was pristine, no hint of a glass shield to seal it away. As she approached Kovac, she pushed the arrow straight through the heart releasing it from the deadly bite. She tossed the heart like a ball in her hand, watching it jump from her palm, a new and playful smile curling her lips. When she reached him, she surveyed the span of his chest, placing her flattened palm on his skin. Hmmm... Again, her musings were not directed at him. He had become her puppet to reassemble. In a swift and surprising motion, she jerked the arrow from his chest, casting it onto the floor in an act that seemed more aimed at getting it out of her way, than relieving him of the burden. When his scream cut through the air, she jumped, a surprised look on her face. She looked at the arrow and grinned. "We will deal with that later." The shield she'd provided him earlier did not serve the removal of the arrow, leaving him gripped by the searing pain of her hasty and somewhat careless action. There was no surprise however, that he could speak, and she may have even giggled an uncharacteristic giggle at the shock when he heard the sound of his own voice. With no attempt at being gentle, she pulled aside the wound in his chest, her finger prodding past the surface of his skin. Her discovery warranted a nod and soon, she'd maneuvered until each of her fingers was sunk to her palm in his chest. Like peeling back the skin of a hide to be tanned, she opened his chest, and shoved in the beating heart, all the while seeming to take no note of his cries and sobs of pain. When the heart was safely in his chest she backed away, flicking her bloodied hands to the side once to leave them perfectly clean. "How does it feel?"Her eyes flashed and she smiled. "Almost forgot." Once again, she moved close, her hands curling around his hips, the pads of her thumbs pressing playfully over his stomach. With all the care and tenderness she possessed, she leaned close to his chest, pursed her lips, and blew a warm breath across the length of the jagged gash that lay open on his skin. As though her breath was invisible needle and thread, the wound meshed together, the warm expulsion weaving the skin to new and leaving no sign of her exploration. When she finished, she looked up at him, her fingers still pressed into his hips. "Feeling better?"

[Kovac]

Having fallen still again, Kovac's eyes shifted and strained to follow his crystalline heart skid across the floor. Chemar's deceptively smooth voice taunted him again, the nonchalance of her tone contrasted eerily with the bizarre horror of her deeds. The bloody inarta moved like an apparition around him, and it seemed almost imperceptible as the wall disappeared and she stood behind him. He felt her push against the blood-turned-mask, and it tumbled to the floor to crash as his heart had. He gasped with relief, free of the terrible restraint, but the man was not given back his movement. Soft hands, fingers like the legs of spiders crept onto his muscled shoulders, and he started as her smooth cheek leaned in to rest against his. Chemar's touch proved both exhilarating and terrifying, for she possessed a magnetism that played upon the malevolent things she had done. She was like a dark addiction, like seeing someone tortured, and getting a sick thrill out of it. Kovac shuddered, he did not know if in fear or anticipation, as the woman's warm breath flowed by his face and swirled around them in an expanding cyclone. In amazement he stared as the strange, nowhere-ness of the room dissolved and the wintry landscape returned. But this time, the avora's skin tightened at the frigid sting of the cold air and blowing snow. As his lungs ached and resisted breathing in the frozen atmosphere, his flesh screamed in pain until the cold had numbed his nerves, his bones rattling with uncontrolled shivers. From the corner of his eye, Kovac saw the red-head lean in again. He did not feel her lips against his skin at first. But soon, amidst the overwhelming cold, a warmth crept through to his cheek, gaining momentum and heat as it spread from her soft mouth to encompass his body, returning sensation to his skin, stillness to his bones and relief to his laboring lungs. Then he could feel Chemar, the fullness of her lips against his face, even the delicate flutter of her long eyelashes. Kovac felt a longing for her contact to persist, to feel more of her kiss drag across his skin. But she would not offer him even that luxury. Kovac made an attempt to move, still unsure whether he would run from or to the dream walker if he found his freedom. But he was still held fast by the touch of her hands on his shoulders, and all he could do was stare in helpless confusion as his mother appeared before him again within the blizzard, her arrow again pointed at him. He heard Chemar's voice again, so close, like a dark angel poised upon his shoulder, breathing temptations into his ear. Revenge. It was not the first thing that came to mind when he thought of his mother. But Chemar breathed her beguiling words into his ear like smooth oil, her body pressed against his so that the expansion and contraction of his torso moved in rhythm with the woman's as if she had become one with him, influencing his body and mind. Revenge, yes. His mother had left him alone in the world, with a father that blamed her death on his son. She left him without a mother to nurture him in his early childhood. She was not strong enough to deliver her child, and she failed him. Do it. The words flowed into him and encircled his innards like a seductive serpent. Looking down, he saw the bow in his hand, arrow readied. though he did not will his arm to raise, it did nevertheless, and Kovac offered no resistance. The blustery winterstorm swirling around them seemed to fade a bit as the archer stared down the shaft of his arrow, the iron head aimed at his mother's chest. She did not move. All he was aware of was the vanthan woman, himself, and the whispering, warm form of Chemar that he both hated and longed to envelope within himself. "Take what you deserve...take her life. You've done it before." her words were not accusatory, but spoken with sweet persuasion. And they cut him like a impaling pole. He did do it. He had killed her, she died giving him life. Crushing pain, guilt and anger fell upon his soul as he felt his own fingers release the string. He watched with horror as the arrow streaked across the short distance and plunged into his mother's chest. She had never moved, nor did she release her arrow this time. Wide-eyed, Kovac stared into the swirling hues of the vanthan woman's eyes. He saw love. Love that he had never seen before. No one has ever looked at him like that, not his father, not Kalle, not Shayth. It was the unconditional love of a mother, that which he had never known. As she toppled, dissipating into a dusty heap, Kovac thought it was as if she wanted to die. The bow lowered, and the mixed-blood stared at the pile of ashes. he felt emotionally exhausted, feeling great loss, and great gain. Chemar moved towards the heap. Her words, spoken no longer with insidious coercion, but with a poignant bit of advice, a truth about a mother he had never known. Long accustomed with the inability to speak, Kovac simply watched Chemar as she turned towards him, his mother's fresh heart still skewered on his arrow. Her wry grin returned as she removed the arrow and toyed with the organ as if it were a ball, horrifying the man. His eyes met her yellow-rimmed gaze again, and they smiled back at him. Then, she finally yanked free the arrow still lodged in his own shoulder. Kovac felt the iron arrowhead tear through every inch if its withdraw, dragging torn flesh with it. The pain was excruciating, and to his surprise, the air was split by his shriek of agony, almost deafening in his ears. Still unsure of whether he could speak, the point was moot, for he was in too much misery to form words. But his torture was just beginning. His cries and yells and grunts of anguish rang out as he felt his flesh rent open by Chemars hand, peeling back skin and tissue. The dreamwalker seem oblivious to his torment, even giggling as she pulled apart bone to make way for the beating heart in her clutch. His body shook and shifted as she tugged at his torn muscles until she could push the heart into the cavity in Kovac's torso. Finally she pulled her hands from his chest, leaving the heart within him. Kovac reeled from the experience, looking down with amazed fright at his mother's heart beating in his chest. He panted from the trauma, his breathes coming with sharp, pained grunts. Though he may have been able to speak, Kovac could find no words to reply, only watching with anxiety as the blood-spattered woman returned to him, felt her hands teasingly placed on his hips. Again, she blew her warm breath over his skin, and it knit together as if a goddess had sealed it with her own hand. Once the opening in his chest was closed, the pain subsiding, tears of agony drying on the man's cheeks, Kovac looked down into Chemar's eyes. he felt distinctly her hands on him, the light touch of her thumbs on the sensitive skin of his stomach. He searched the gold-rimmed eyes for a moment, his emotions, his intent unclear for the first time. Then, a smile fell across his face, a wry grin he was reknowned for. His hand shot up to Chemar's throat, clamping around it tightly, his hand tilting her head back. Kovac pushed her back a step, holding firm to her neck until a small choking gag was heard. His eyes did not leave her gaze, and with his other hand, he pressed his fingers to his side. Much as the inarta had done, he finger by finger, pushed his hand into his own flesh, just below his ribcage. He grunted in pain, breathing in sharp, hard blasts that sent flecks of saliva to pepper Chemar's face. Finally the man's hand wrapped around the floating rib in his side, and with a sick crack, he twisted his hand until the bone snapped free. He let out a loud cry, his eyes fluttering closed only a moment before fixing again on Chemar's. Carefully, he pulled the bone from his side, blood seeping from the wound and dripping from his hand. He raised the sharp tip of the rib to the dreamwalker's throat, the tip pricking at her skin. "Yes, Chemar, I am feeling better." He muttered in a strained, hoarse voice. Kovac's face drew nearer to hers, inhaling, she smelt of the scent of the Dreaming Lady. Then the bone was lowered until the tip rested at her side, pressed against her soft skin exposed below her vinati. With a sudden shove, Kovac drove the bone into her side. Her eyes widened and a shriek was stifled in her constricted throat. Pushing the rib into her body, Kovac's hand followed. He guided the bone until the tip rested against her spine, where is adhered instantly. Carefully withdrawing his hand, Kovac raised his hand to his open mouth, dragging the bloody palm across his wet tongue. Then he pressed the messy hand back to the open wound in Chemar's side, rubbing the saliva and blood on the torn skin until it drew closed. Unlike the neat closure that the dreamwalker had made in his chest, the avora's ministrations left a scar along the soft flesh of her side. Kovac's grip on her throat loosened, and his hand dropped. The other, still dripping, came to rest on the side of her lovely pale cheek. "I know what you did here, Chemar. I am forever grateful that you have given me closure. I have little to give you in return, but what I have left you will always be with you." His gaze remained upon the woman, who elicited a turmoil of emotions within the man, repulsion, attraction, gratitude, amazement, arousal, horror...all tied up around his core.

[Chemar Tisserand]

The moment his hand clamped on her throat, a new energy flared in Chemar's stomach, burning its way through her body until she was consumed by it, sustained within the bounds of the dream by that one touch. Kovac's fingers seized and her breath became labored, the simple act of inhaling air becoming a draw of her focus away from the connection of the touch. The pressure around her throat remained constant, so rather than split her energy between sustaining her physical self or the new energy provided by Kovac, she expelled her last breath, emptying her lungs until she hung in his grip like a china doll, aware, but lifeless. A brief glance to his other hand revealed his plan, and the grimace that twisted his face shortly after as her eyes returned to his, brought a slight curl to her lips. The cracking bone made her body tense and she could almost taste his blood on her tongue. When the jagged edge of the bone was thrust against the tender skin of her side, hands that had rested gently on his hips dug into his skin with a spasm of force. Her nails carved half moon slices into his flesh, and a scream held captive in her constricted throat fought to release when he drove the bone into her. Like a blade made of fire, as the bone tore into her body it ignited the energy placed there by Kovac's strangling grip. Chemar became a vessel of flame as Kovac's rib insinuated itself onto her backbone, she carved crimson tears into his hips as she convulsed in the searing combination of pain and ecstasy. A tangle of red hair tumbled across her pale shoulders as her head lolled back, perhaps it was the withholding of her life's breath or the sheer stimulation of Kovac's action, but it was only through a deadened comprehension that she felt his hand grind against her ribs to seal his entry. The moment the grip began to dissolve from her throat Chemar pulled in a torrent of breath that seemed to fill her, starting with her toes it returned the structure to her limp body until she once again stood facing Kovac with a keen sense of clarity. The gentle touch of his bloodied hand on her cheek sent a tremor of chills across her skin. For the first time, someone had taken back the control she was so accustomed to in this, her world. The thought of it invigorated her and though she heard his words and watched his lips form each one, her focus was on Kovac. She was held in momentary captivation. But what I have left you will always be with you. Indeed...more than he could imagine. As she considered her response, her finger absently lifted to rest on her upper lip, depositing yet another stain of his blood on her face. The golden rings in her eyes glowed brightly as she let it slip across her lips and trail down her chin. "Indeed." A passing glance to her torso revealed the new blemish on her otherwise perfect skin. "A scar is it?" The edge had returned to her voice, and she teased him, skimming over the gravity of his actions to return the balance of power to it's rightful place. With a movement unseen, she grasped his hand, pressing it closer to her cheek, and with her voice lowered to a husky whisper, she pulled him closer with only the allure of her words. "Did you think I would forget you?" He was so close now, his breath reflected upon his mouth whenever he exhaled, and she could feel the heat from his rising tension. She was about to continue when his breathing became labored, and his hands clutched to his chest. In a grimace of obvious pain, Kovac began to sink toward the floor, Chemar watched as the tips of his fingers began to lose color and substance. Before her eyes, the flesh and blood began to transform into glass. Buckled knees connected with the floor and his ragged breath had all but stopped, he looked up at her with sheer panic, wordlessly pleading for her to make it stop. She watched him, her eyes blinking lazily, caught in a momentary fascination with the morbid process of his body turning to glass. The transformation had reached his wrists and his hands were now frozen like mangled sculptures in a strained reach. The possibility existed that he would learn more if she let him change entirely to glass, to be forever enslaved by his guarded heart, his scarring so deep that it had even contaminated the purity of his mother's sacrifice. But as she looked into his eyes and felt the recent sting of the healed scar on her ribs, she could not. Chemar dropped to her knees before him and pressed her warm mouth to his grimacing lips. She drew him into a kiss to begin, leeching away any pain he was feeling, and then with the softest breath, she expelled the air from her lungs into his, slowly, without the searing heat or the icy chill. It was the breath of her soul, returning the flesh and blood to his paralyzed limbs. When she felt his hands close on her waist, drawing her closer, she broke the kiss, but did not withdraw. "You are broken." He sought another kiss, but she shook her head. "No. That is not the answer. It is your stubborn heart." She took pause to look into Kovac's eyes for a lingering moment, already, she could see the rich brown of his irises fade as his heart continued to pump the invasive glass into his system. "I will fix you..." Her voice was beyond quiet, and comprised entirely of her sympathy for him. "Be still.." Her gaze dropped to her lap, to her wrist, and her fingernail poised to bisect it with a single cut. With a flicked look to Kovac before she began, the stillness of his body was confirmed. The fingernail of her thumb acted as a keen blade and laid open the skin of her wrist, then with teeth clenched she carefully separated a single vein, pulling it free like yarn from a skein. Her eyelids fluttered as she came close to passing out, but soon enough, she held the vessel of her life's blood in the palm of her hand. Without hesitation, she touched the bleeding end of it to Kovac's chest and watched as it took on animation and began burrowing into his skin. His grip tightened with a sudden spasm and she pursed her lips. "Shhhhh..." Moments seemed to pass like hours, as the vein found its way into Kovac, and whether or not he noticed, Chemar's arm had lost all color and hung limp at her side, the pallor creeping ever higher as they sat there silently. When the vein had all but disappeared, the dreamer began to sway, and her eyes slipped closed for moments at a time. Finally the tail of the vein disappeared into his chest and immediately Chemar overtook him in a kiss, reclaiming the breath she'd lent him with desperate speed. As her lungs filled, the color slowly returned to her body and shrugged off the pallor of death. As well, the edges of the delicate wound began to knit together, seeking to conceal any evidence of her sacrifice to leave no physical memory. The breath retrieved, she broke the kiss, but her withdrawal was languorous, taking a selfish moment to appreciate the warmth of his lips and the taste of his life now stained by hers. But when no actual touch linked them, she was gone, slipping from his grasp like a fading shadow. She would not linger beyond that one indulgence, knowing she had already left too much of herself within the heart of this dreamer. Her very blood would forever keep his heart warm, warding him from prison of the past, whether he knew it or not. As the vulnerability she had revealed was once again disguised, she stood before him, the room had become endless and murky. There was no definition, sound without life, light without a source. This dream was over. "We're done here." Without ceremony or aggression, she curled her arm across her chest and flung her backhand across his cheek, connecting with a solid and forceful SMACK! The shock would catapult him from his dream as well as from her 'house'. The moment her hand connected with his cheek, everything began to melt away, leaving her standing within the safety and comfort of the Chavina, the path back to waking glowing before her like a beacon. Breathe.... The wall of the chamber solidified beneath her back as she opened her eyes. Kovac's prone figure lay before her as she expelled a long slow breath.

[Kovac]

Kovac had lost the battle to discern reality from dream, for the dream had taken on a reality that challenged his conscious state. Gone was Wind Reach, Shayth, Inarta, Avora and Endal, Chemar and Kovac. It was just him and this woman that had tormented and captivated him. The half-blood reveled in his temporary command of the situation, invading her with a piece of himself, the blood that was smeared upon them now hers. The skin at his hips, bared above the band of his bryda, throbbed where her nails had dug into his flesh, and Kovac took a moment to savor the sharp sensation. But his lordship over the situation faded, the gold-rimmed eyes of the woman losing the vulnerability he had ripped open, and her words, deep and alluring and slick with self-assurance, taunted him once more. "Did you think I would forget you?" A wry grin tilted his lips. He had made his mark. Chemar was so close, he drank her exhaled breaths. Had he tamed her? Could he take her...have her however he wanted? The prospect stirred him deeply, and he began to close the distance between their lips. Then a fire exploded in his chest, like searing lava flowing from his heart through his arteries. He gasped...his voice stolen again, Kovac knew not whether it was Chemar's doing or the horror he was feeling. Kovac's legs gave way as he dropped to kneel before Chemar. He held his hands before his widening eyes, feeling the burning pain in his fingers. Again, terror gripped him as he watched his flesh transform to glass. He turned a pleading eye to the redhead. Was she doing this to him? Was he doing it to himself? Gods! He panicked again, unable to stop the glassy creep going up his arms. He was robbed of the ability to wail in pain and fright, his face only able to twist in agony. Chemar just watched. it was not the mischievious stare she tortured him with earlier. It was one of curiosity, as if watching some natural phenonmenon occur with interest. Finally, Chemar dropped to her knees before him, his begging eyes following her. Again, her lips met his. But this time, a stream of her warm breath flowed into his lungs. It was like a goddess breathing life into his doomed body. The glass of his wrists and hands returned to flesh, and the heat that the woman ignited in him flared up. Kovac's renewed hands laid upon her waist, and he returned her kiss with passion, the all-to willing avora seeking to fullfil immediate needs. But Chemar's lips pulled from his leaving him with a gasp. He looked again at Chemar, controlling again, but not malevolent. Even as he leaned in to taste more of her, she stopped him. I am broken. Yes, he knew it, he saw how all his layers of personality worked to hide or compensate for his brokenness, how wine and sex had been his temporary means to deaden it. His eyes met hers, and he saw, for the first time, the gaze of a healer. Obediently he remained still, though the burning in his heart continued. There was no visceral disgust as Kovac watched Chemar slash her own skin and with grisly delicacy removed one of her own blood vessels. This time, she did not need to paralyze the man. He allowed her to come near...she had promised to fix him. His hands on her waist gripped her like an anchor, ready for whatever deed she was going to perform. A startled panic shot through his body as the vein entered his chest, only gripping the fear when the woman offered a reassuring sound. He held onto his sanity as the vessel worked is way into his torso, towards his heart. It was then he saw Chemar's weakness, her pallor, her lack of breath. Kovac was confused. Chemar had tortured him, teased him, violated him. Now...she was saving him, at her own expense. The unnerving wriggling in his chest stopped, and the burning dissipated immediately. Words of gratitude formed on his lips, but Chemar's mouth was mashed against his before he could speak. A rush of air fled his lungs as she dew in her lent breath. Kovac again drank of Chemar's kiss, sharing in the guilty pleasure of the passionate embrace, reaching for her lips even as she drew back. And that was it. A startled Kovac looked at Chemar, then her hand struck his face. His next gasp, a response to the sharp pain of the inarta's hand, was drawn from the scented air of the dreaming room. Sound was different, close and resounding from the rocky walls, so different than the boundless dreamscape. Kovac's eyes snapped open, focusing on the stony ceiling. His head swiveled quickly, the surroundings registering again in his overwhelmed mind. Dreaming Lady, stone walls, sleeping pallet....Chemar. The avora scrambled awkardly off the pallet, spinning around until he located her, sitting against the wall. She looked the same, though not smeared in blood. His heart still pounded, his breath heavy, straining to draw himself from the dream and settle back into reality. His hand raised slowly, finger pointing at the dreamwalker stagger back a step. "You...you..." the avora's hand went to his bared chest, then a finger lifted to touch his lips, his mind racing with memories of the nightmare. in one of the rarest moments of his life, Kovac was speechless.

[Chemar Tisserand]

It was not unusual for Chemar to emerge from a dream feeling far more exhausted than she had upon entering. Truth be told, it was more normal than if she were to emerge refreshed. In the case of Kovac's dream, she felt gutted, positively drained; A fact that would never be revealed to the Avora. As he came to grips with the events of the dream, Chemar watched him, her chin lifted slightly with a regal carriage and her plush mouth in a straight line. The progression of his waking discovery was fascinating to watch, the desperate hand clutching his chest, then the tentative passage of his fingers across his own lips, he relived each potent moment, trying to work through his decisions and her manifestations in a manner of minutes. She offered no aid of explanation, nor could she really, remaining flat backed against the wall still sitting on the floor. She would not move until she knew with utmost certainty that her legs would support her. Just know that nothing you experience on our walk can follow you into your waking life. Those words were like a script, and she could hear them spoken in her own voice, passing her lips each and every time she walked with someone. To date, she had utter faith in the truth of those words, but as she sat with her back to the wall, watching Kovac unravel what he thought he knew, she had her first doubt. Nysel would never let her give more that she was capable of giving, would he? You...you... His finger took the place of his words which seemed not to come. He pointed at her with a look she honestly could not read, and said nothing to reveal anything more. Frozen before her in a stupefied stare, he seemed at a loss for what to do next. After taking another deep breath, she pushed herself from the floor, attempting to gloss over the feeling of anticipation as she waited for confirmation of her own stability. She relaxed when her legs responded as they always had and approached Kovac. With a long pause to look into his dark eyes, she uttered only a single word. "Yes." After taking his hand, she began to lead him from her darkness, and back into the light. They walked in silence, her finger tip riding along a luminescent vein for some imagined support. The halls became lighter and lighter as they stepped back into the amber colored main room. As soon as she felt there was adequate light, she released his hand and continued with a separation between them. Once they stood bathed in the amber light of the main room she spun on her heels to face him, removing the scarf from her hair to let it fall in a red cascade across her shoulders. "Solas will help you from here with your payment, or in the event..." She slipped up, her words stalling in between phrases. "Pardon me. If you would like to arrange another walk, she can help you with that as well." Try as she might, she could not, this time, appear to be anything other than the sum of her emotions, and she wore her vulnerability like a shroud. Something had happened in his dream, and she could not shrug it off as part of her daily life. "Thank you for your visit. I hope you are leaving with... There was no conclusion to her words that seemed appropriate in any way, so she let them fade like the tears in an ocean. With some small hesitation, she extended her hand to him and awaited his response.

[Kovac]

The dream was not what he expected. Well, Kovac really didn't know what to expect, but it definitely was not the experience he just went through. Usually, if Kovac did not make the effort to remember a dream when he wakes up, it soon fades. This one, he remembered in every detail. Looking at the girl, the half-breed still felt the lingering emotions she inspired, both the loathing and the desire. But this was Chemar, the same woman he greeted in the lobby, the one he paid to help him. Shock wore off as Chemar rose and approached him. He remembered. The glass heart, his mother, the deep emotional release of guilt. She had done something for him, in spite of the horror she wrought on him. It would take days for the man to process all that Chemar had revealed. She came to him. Though he was clothed, Kovac felt exposed before the inarta. She had seen him in the most intimate of places, his dreams. She had see him in panicked fear, agony and lust, and he just met her a bell ago. Though they had not touched, he felt as if he had actually kissed her, that the blood they spattered on each other was real. But it was not real. And Chemar, well, this was her job. The jumble of thoughts left Kovac confounded. Kovac eyes were still glassy as her soft hand once again took his. Its just Chemar, just Chemar. He could not take his eyes from her. She had become an enigma, and he pondered what powers over him the dream had given to her, for surely his soul had been vexed by her. As she lead him down the stony corridor, he squinted slighty as they entered the brighter room. Chemar turned, almost startling the confused man. She let her hair down again, and he admired its cascade. He saw her in the dream, how she teased him. Then her voice again, not with the ethereal quality of the dream, but the same voice. She stumbled on her words. Kovac's head turned slightly, as if to get a different perspective on the woman. She had been the epitome of professionalism, in control and confident. But now, she seemed, shaken. Had the dream been as real to her as it was to him? No, she did this for a living, she could not carry on if she became emotionally involved in every dream. But Kovac saw it, again she stumbled. A sly grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. A bit of egotism tickled his mind, a small victory dance in his soul. But the revelry stopped when he met those gold-rimmed eyes. They would haunt him now, bring back the pain of her ripping out his heart, the feel of her life breath in his lungs, the taste of her lips on his. She had some power, and he feared, maybe, she still held it. Chemar extended her hand congenially, and, with a moment of hesitation, Kovac took it in his and shook it slowly. It seemed odd. In his dream, they had plunged those hands into each other bodies in grisly displays. Separating the dream from reality had not fully completed, and Kovac could only gaze at Chemar with a tangle of emotion. He managed to gather a thought, some kind of semi-coherent reply. "I...uh...thank you." His hand lingered in Chemar's, until he realized he still gripped it. Releasing her hand, Kovac turned towards Solas at the counter, but had trouble tearing his eyes from the sultry redheaded dreamwalker.

[Flicker]

Chemar: Dream Manipulation 5 Dream Interpretation 5 Manipulation 5 Observation 5 Meditation 5 Kovac has a “chiseled torso” Kovac is always thinking about sex Kovac is sexually attractive in a “stomach tightening, lip biting” way Kovac is half Vantha Kovac is stubborn Kovac has a problem with glass A suspicion regarding the previously accepted limitations of your power Dream: Ripping out a heart painting with blood giving a blood vessel chains of glass turning someone into glass Breathing the freeze in Kovac: Observation 5 The atmosphere of the Dreaming Lady Solas Garde is the manager Chemar knows things she shouldn’t Chemar works in a wonderland of invitation Chemar makes nightmares worst Chemar breaks to heal Chemar can be vulnerable too Comments:...holy crap.