“You’re so motivated by your feelings for these women,” The shade taunted pacing back and forth with its weapon as it was joined by other psychopomps. Two more ravens landed beside her, one assuming Aurora’s adult form, while the other became Amma.
“But she controls you the most,” The psychopomp stated gesturing towards the shade of Aurora with a small sneer.
“This form however broke your heart first,” Ryan taunted,
“I can see your tear-stained face as you stumbled upon her in the arms of another in the shed beyond your parents’ house. You had gone to pick her wildflowers, thinking there was something special between you, but you were just a kid and she was already a woman.”Lorcán felt the repulse of embarrassment, looking down at the wilted bouquet in his hand. He could see Ryan in front of him, her jeans undone, the boy’s hands intertwined with the red strap riding above her hip bones. Black lace peeked out from a shirt nearly completely discarded as Ryan’s tongue darted in and out from between the older boy’s lips, her hands firmly clenched around his jaw while their hips gyrated together.
A laugh from the pomp brought Lorcán back to the dimly lit clearing.
“You’re embarrassed by how this one makes you feel,” The psychopomp continued. The fires were subsiding on all sides and shadows scurried to and fro behind the treeline. Lorcán could feel the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand on end. Roars of hunger echoed through the air as some of the braver creatures tried to push through the flames before retreating again.
“You can’t find comfort with her because you feel guilt for wanting it. But she’s already part of you. She’s been inside you and marked you as her own. Can’t you feel your toes curl as she pulses inside of you, making you feel whole again? Just let yourself feel the release.” Ryan continued while Amma approached Lorcán, a smile starting on her lips, her tongue slowly tracing along her bottom lip as it pouted outwards.
Like a lioness about to take down a gazelle, Amma pounced forward, a hand running down Lorcán’s chest before she ripped his shirt open. A nail dragged along where the scar should have been, a gasp of agonized ecstasy escaping Lorcán’s lips before fresh blood flowed freely from the wound. With a bat of her dark eyelashes, Amma withdrew her hand and sucked on the crimson-stained finger.
“And then there’s Aurora.” Ryan stated,
“You really just can’t spit it out? You’ve spent all this time chasing after her, but you can’t, how was it Ripley put it? COM-MUN-I-CATE?” Lorcán staggered back from Amma, reaching his hand out as he tried with all his might to summon his own powers but they were gone. He couldn’t even feel the dull ache of being drained, it was as though he had never had his abilities.
“Every fiber of your being calls out for her, your soul seeks her out and yet the words ‘do you want to go to the dance with me?’ are foreign to you?” Ryan laughed as Aurora began to approach Lorcán.
“Everyone knows it too, your stolen glances are painfully obvious, the lingering touches, the constant mention of one another.” Ryan smiled,
“Just bang already.”And suddenly Aurora was on Lorcán. He could feel his fingers tracing her body, the memories of intertwining in the tent. His hands on her hips, his lips reaching for hers. Hot breath brushed against his neck as delicate fingers traced his chest reaching under the ripped shirt and coming to rest on his belt. Her breath danced around down his chest as Aurora invited herself to explore every inch of his body and Lorcán felt his pulse quickening. It was everything he had ever wanted.
But it wasn’t right, it wasn’t real.
It wasn’t Aurora.Lorcán suddenly pushed her back, stumbling before both Aurora and Amma took steps forward in pursuit. Lorcán looked from one shade to the other, here he was trapped with Aurora on one side and Amma on the other.
“If you stay, all your wildest dreams will come true,” Amma purred in his ear, her tongue warming his ear lobe as Lorcán suddenly began to feel very warm again. Her nails clawed at his back and side, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
“I’m sure we can all find a way to get along,” Aurora whispered in the other ear, her teeth gently nibbling it while her hands slowly massaged his bicep, wrapping around it before her grip turned to steel.
It was wrong, this wasn’t what he actually wanted but Lorcán felt powerless to resist as he found himself unable to move. Turning his head from one girl to the other, feeling himself beginning to melt, his inhibitions, his will drifting away as Ryan stood triumphantly. Darkness overtook the clearing as the fires suddenly extinguished, the fight leaving Lorcán’s body.
Innumerous rows of needle-like teeth suddenly appeared on the edge of the thicket, their yellow smiles nearly glowing in the dark as the lanky corpse-like creatures lumbered into the clearing. Sickly long tongues lapped at their chins while drool dripped from their eager maws.
The shade wearing Ryan’s face slowly approached, cracking her jaw before it began to unhinge, extending as she was flanked by the wendigos hungry to devour Lorcán’s soul.
“You could have chosen comfort, you could have crossed over without a fight, but instead you ran and now,” Her teeth elongated creating an unnerving smile. Her voice became a chorus of baritones and scratching whispers.
“Now you’ll suffer.”Lunging forward, the psychopomp suddenly was blasted backward, Lorcán feeling strength coursing through his body as tendrils of silver and red wrapped themselves around his limbs, cleaving the shades from him. The charging wendigos were turned to ash as flames erupted from the ground, the burning chasms claiming their twisted bodies.
The shade’s face twisted as it angrily began to shriek protests as the flames multiplied, amplified by a familiar force as Lorcán felt his powers returning. His mane-like hair fell on his shoulders while a voice rang out out.
“You’ve got a lion inside of those lungs.”
Taking a deep breath, Lorcán exhaled a gout of flame, igniting the forest and further repelling the army of spirits and undead.
“You’re not welcome here!” The pomp screamed no longer bothering with appearing as Ryan, Aurora or Amma as she stood defiantly between the growing walls of flame and Lorcán. Slivers of silver explode from within the crimson flames before they completely engulfed the shade. The fire rose higher as Lorcán found himself alone. Like a baptism of fire, he spread his arms wide, shutting his eyes and gave himself over to the inferno.
Interaction(s): @Rockette - Amma CahorsPreviously: Think About You
In moments of chaos and heartache, situational awareness is all for naught, and in the secure wing of the infirmary, Amma Cahors’s spine is rigid in the gloom of filtered sunlight and shadow where the wall at her back supports the tremors that loop and canter through her entire body. The news of Lorcán’s condition had all been second-hand, traded words of disbelief as she struggled with an internal bought of what lanced through her heart at the mention of his looming demise. The reaper heralded itself over her spirit eternally and within the sweltering darkness of her soul there bloomed a thread of fire that corded through the scarlet tendrils of her manifest, a harboring wealth of power so miniscule it went unheeded through her waking world until this very moment. He was going to die, and she knew naught how she felt about it at that moment, could not decipher the catches upon the rungs of her ribs and the aching hopelessness that spooled through her trembling gestures as she lifted scarred palms to her eyes spun wide and aglow in the tremors of HZEs suddenly gone manic and crazed through the fringes of her reality.
Memories of youth spindled through her mind, a melodic voice of both keeper and mother and protector hushed and caressed against her hair, trembling fingers through the locks spun in the likeness of she, the damnation of fallen stars and cosmos eternal in the eyes of god.
Ünterseele – Überseelen and devour. The concept of heart and soul, the unification of one, as we all are.
These terms rang in familiarity, unbidden through her mind, things she had heard long ago and had forgotten in the leagues of trauma endured. Her mother saw All, knew things others did not, and contained those secrets well in life, had given and forsaken All even then for the welfare of her beloved daughter: she who was the purest form of love and meaning of life, the child of two individuals who never would have met under normal circumstances if not for the intricacies of fate. Those particular words of Limbo and Wendigo meant something, Amma was certain, but whatever translation was to be had was immediately lost as the conversation lulled and ended with such a ring of finality that she felt the conspiring funeral toles vibrating down to her bones.
Lorcán owed her nothing and his family even less so, but she could not shake the timbre of his voice: You inspired me – There’s like, totally nothing ugly about you.
Confessions she has heard before, admissions on whispers and shy breaths, things proffered to Amma that she easily dismissed that now resurfaced upon the lapping waves of humanity unbidden and at the moment, unwanted. The last few days had exposed more perplexities to Amma’s emotions than she was prepared for and even now took her unaware as she carved her fingers back through her mass of hair and sunk the heels of her palms against her brow to reign in some of that control that had been evading her since the Trial had taken all that saw was and could have been and turned it against her.
Your powers have always existed on a different level, possessed of such high-energy particles that encompass many things of death, but also life. We can make you even stronger, you’ve only to say the words.
Yes.
Amma slowly unveils her eyes, lashed framed around a tumultuous blue as unbound as the sea, voids of the deep peering through the darkness as the sun slowly begins to set, bathing her in hues of twilight. The in-between where her powers had once bidden and took life, where she had been donned the harbinger of ruin in the confines of an old cathedral.
She did not know what she could do, but she knew she had to do something.
She could only hope it would be enough.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
She waits as a spectre, watching the time flit on by, every breath all the more critical and felt all the more through her body as she gazes outward towards the moon suspended above in a silver glow. Wreathed in a halo that seemed to mock her with every hour she stalled for, uncertain of what she could do in this damning situation that stroked well past midnight, encroaching upon the haunting hour. Amma pulled in a shuddering breath that danced over her ribs, sleeves dropped from her shoulders and exposing the line of her scar where her power churned into a red whorl as the illustration of her emotions still manic and barely contained. Perhaps it was the shadow of death that called to her, haunting lyrics of the end that even spun from her throat as she stood from her bed and carefully exited her room of solitary where her guards were conveniently absent.
It would seem her new development of humanity did not go unnoticed.
She carefully navigated her way through the infirmary, fate would have it seen that she go unnoticed as she had a few nights before when she had visited another, but this was different as she turned right, her chest rising and falling on quivering exhales, this was all intentional and purposeful. Her palms ghosted over the hallways as memory guided her through the night. However, it sufficed to say something else led her steps too, for the crimson pulsating at her front immediately spooled away from her flesh, tendrils yearning and seeking through the dark, drawn hopelessly through the corridor as it had been during the simulation and many nights before.
Amma knew then as she knew now, the compelling strength of his powers that had woven together with her own, unifications of scarlet and silver and vermillion, hidden tinges of blue like the hottest of fire that seduced the chaotic whorls of her unknown strength. The closer she came to his room, the more she felt the leagues of dread and decay that pulsated just yonder his door, the eternal end rising against her power in defiance. Cords of crimson snapped and pulled, harmonizing through her gestures as she batted them away and finally entered Lorcán’s room as the hour stroked three times. The power of three, the power of many, the power of three names that bloomed through her soul on a roar as she beheld the state he was in.
Her eyes rounded out, death and despair sang through the dark, the shadows of the night smothering the edges of his room and challenging her glare that raked down his entire body gone pale, the once golden hue to his skin drawn and spent, the signs of his torment and maladies draining all life from his spirit.The smell of rot, an offense she knew intimately, as her powers were capable of the same damage that expelled through these walls and caught her breath in a choked gasp. Amma’s lashes and brow plummeted, expressions of sorrow and pain bidden to her visage as reality settled upon her heart and painfully made known the denial of her affections. The facade of the beast fell away to the girl, the girl who could not deny that she cared.
Amma Cahors cared for Lorcán Roth.
And perhaps it was that dawning realization that made her acknowledge that she cared for the others too. She cared for Katja and the pain she inflicted. She cared for Gil who had been a victim of his own darkness and despair. She had cared for Haven and the memory of the only friend she had ever had in the world that she conjured, and she even cared for Aurora, the girl she had given the last pieces of her power to so that she might survive and find him.
At his bedside, Amma laughed: a quiet trill that spun from her full mouth drawn at the edges in the most dejected smile imaginable.
“Damm you. Damn, everyone.”
Somewhere in the distance, perhaps somewhere not of this world, a terrible bellow sounded through her lobe, it rang betwixt her ears and nearly brought her to her knees. It was a warning, the call of a terrible creature that promised her end and lay claim to their prey, it commanded her to flee, but Amma’s answer was one of a challenge as crimson waves bid over her drawn shoulders, heralding the true calling of destruction and chaos. That monster that churned away at her heart and soul rose upon the chains of destiny and fate and rejoined that screech of death with one of ultimate nihilism. Her gaze is drawn down to his forearm where she feels the heralding of death sing, it reaps through his entire body in fiendish lines of black that crawl upon his flesh unchecked and without, and she feels every darkening whorl of rot, similar to her powers that continue to climb ever higher, a gauntlet thrown to the very reaper that had purchase of Lorcán’s soul.
“I won’t let you die.” Amma breathed and with trembling hands, she laid her palms upon his mutilated arm, her scars immediately aglow with scarlet that churns away from her pores, arachnid gestures turning vice-like upon the HZEs that were banked deep within, his power sputtering away into nothing and gnawed upon by whatever infection sluiced away through his veins. Lashes sundered over her glowing eyes, concentration turning her face strained as she compelled her power further.
"I am the advocate for the depraved and the unhinged.
I am rage, I am pain.
I am the unknown."
Like vipers, her powers lanced through his body, feathering edges of silver upon every ridge of muscle beneath her grasp, highlighting his nerves. Her breath came out in harsh pants, drawn from her throat in an exhilarating gasp as she spooled more of her energy through his wound, the marks marring his body aglow in hated red.
And there, she felt it, death and hunger. Amma coaxed it to her liken to a lover, bid the infection closer and closer until she struck, her nails spearing into his arm, her gestures turning rigid as scarlet cords snapped and pulled and spun intimately through everything wrong and not of this world and whisked it away into nothing. The void welcomed the horrid manifest, spent away into eternity, her own appetence fluttering low in her belly as Amma immediately relinquished her hold of his arm. Sparks of red pulsated around them, wreathing each in a scarlet glow that spun away into silver, black feasting upon the feathered edges of her power as she struggled to breathe around the sudden emotions that spooled from her heart in shuddering gasps that wrecked through every link of bone and nerve.
Colour began to return to ahsen flesh as the man before her stirred, a wave of heat washing over the room as fever dispelled and molten-hued eyes fluttered open, a glance of brief recognition washing over Amma before he, Lorcán, uttered a single groan and eyelids extinguished flame. Guttural utterings turned to serene snores, a smile spreading across the slumbering student’s face.
“Thank you,” The voice of an older male caught Amma off guard, the raven-haired femme fatale spinning around, her ocean eyes rising to meet ones that so reminded her of Lorcán’s own but instead of molten, were hued like sapphire.
“I don't know how you did it, but my family owes you a debt of gratitude that I could never repay, thank you for saving my son's life.” Aiden said, reaching down and embracing the young woman.
“From the bottom of our hearts, my wife and I thank you. You are always welcome at our table, Amma.”
This sort of gratitude was such a spell of kindness unknown to her, her spirit and soul wailing at the touch of another, at the embrace that spindled leagues of warmth down her entire body. The swell of heat through the room, bidden by Lorcán perhaps, or the returning of his HZEs that battered and tugged at her rigid spine. Amma would never forget those eyes dawning upon her; for eyes of that molten hue were the sort that kindled slow and steady - a churning core of vermillion banked within a sea of flame; scarlet fringes and the tiniest slivers of resplendence that burned as hot as the sun. Sunbursts, she names, the cosmos wreathed with an eternal star that sires breadths of comfort through her entire being.
She doesn’t know what to say, for words could not be spared as the haunting hour slowly came to an end and here she simply nodded, the closest Amma could bring herself to acknowledge, unknowing if such a grace could be granted to her if she had been lost in similar circumstances of death. She disengages herself from Aiden’s embrace and steps back, unable to resist casting her eyes back towards his son, lids draped over her gaze, and there, unbidden and with little command, a single thread of her power blooms from her chest and lazily churns, attaching to the energy particles awash through the room in hues of red and silver, and eagerly seeks him out where it coyly hovers above Lorcán’s chest before sinking betwixt flesh and bone.
A small boost, a figment of herself proffered silently before her expression lapses into something solemn and with little ceremony, Amma simply leaves.
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