Private Tales Dealings in Duality

[Zinnia]

"Ch-chasing--ahem--"
Kilien's particular phrasing brought a new and dizzying rush of blood to Zinnia's head, her cheeks flushing as red as ever. She laughed nervously, her tail's tip wiggling about in some mix of nerves and excitement. She clapped her hands over it in an attempt to hide the reaction, but the damage had already been done.

Right, well...might as well keep talking to try and play it off, Zinnia figured.
"For now, yeah. Well, that and my eyes," she answered, removing one of her hands from the still-wagging appendage to point at her golden peepers. "These used to be a very plain brown, if you can believe it."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Cuuuuute. Kilien's smirk returned, looking not too dissimilar to the cat that made the mouse squeak. He was half tempted to paw at the mouse again, offer another glib word or two, but he bit the inside of his cheek and held it in.

She was his superior, after all, it wouldn't do to be making her squirm.

He looked down at his hands, found something else on the ground to pick at and gruffly cleared his throat, "So uh... what happens if the tail one day doesn't go away?"

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia huffed, taking notice of Kilien's simpering. She frowned slightly and puffed a cheek out, but he saw fit to move the conversation along. That served as enough of a distraction to at least shake Zinnia from her pining for the moment, especially given how dire a topic it was.

"...I don't know. Pray that my home suddenly gets a lot more tolerant, I guess?" the girl laughed weakly. It was a hard truth that she didn't like thinking about. Even entertaining the thought brought her down, and she lightly slumped over, her voice growing soft. "I don't...I don't wanna go..."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

That seemed like a fairly grim prospect and Kilien showed his teeth in a grimace at the thought of it. His own future was certainly not assured - he had no intention of signing on to the Guard and frankly rolling into the reserves wasn't exactly getting him where he wanted to be. In truth the only option that served what he truly wanted was to go into exile.

The freedom to return home and find his family. Then he could focus on the next most important thing: finding a way to break this curse.

Would Vel Anir let him take that option? He had some heavy doubts.

In all this, though, he also had grown doubt in the idea of Zinnia doing the same and taking exile. She wanted to be here and stay. Why? He couldn't fathom - the Academy was a hellhole that he'd rather see set ablaze. But to each their own...

"Is there no one higher up you can trust to tell that would stand up for you?"

 

[Zinnia]

Again she took a deep breath and wrung her scaled hands together, trying to steady herself. It would be okay. She'd always found a way to make it okay.
"I have a couple of friends from the Academy that are nobles, but they're either the same rank as me or lower. The two of them and you are the only people who know."

Not counting Soleil Verdane, of course, but that monster took that secret with her to the grave.

"Outside of that...I don't even know who I'd turn to...if for some reason it turns out that I'm not...not human, then--" she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, not wanting to think those thoughts to their inevitable conclusion. "Kress, I don't know what would happen."

She glanced towards Kilien.
"What about you? Are you worried about being found out?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Well she had friends, which was more than he could really say. Accounting for friends of noble rank? He had none. But at the very least, he had some semblance of control over his beastly side and nothing on his figure to hide like her horns. For certain, she had it worse.

She had something to lose. He didn't. Sure, he might never see his own people again, but he hadn't seen them for over a decade so ... he'd already come to terms with that eventuality.

Brown furrowed, Kilien inhaled deeply and loosed it as a long sigh through his nose, turning to lay on his back and lifting his hands to cup them under his head. His eyes stared up at the night sky and the stars winking beyond the canopy above, catching the top crescent of the moon just off to the east.

"Every day," he admitted quietly, "though the Proctors that secured my transfer to the Academy already know. I've been warned not to tell anyone - they said if the other Initiates find out I'll never see my family again."

Or maybe they simply didn't want word of a mongrel like him attending the Academy to reach the ears of the nobility that might have stock and stake in the Initiates there.

"Honestly don't know why it's such a big deal. It's not like my bite turns others..."

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia laughed softly, weakly, and rubbed her arm.
"Well...guess I don't count then, huh? Not an initiate, after all," she pointed out meekly.

"There was a boy in the class above me that could shift into animal forms...he didn't get treated very well either, from what I heard. Guess they just don't like our type much..." If that wasn't stating the most obvious thing in the world. She shook her head, then followed Kilien's eyes upwards. The night sky looked beautiful this far out from the cities... "Good to know about the bite thing, though, heh. Wouldn't know about mine, I've never bitten anyone."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Mm," he grunted with a small smile and a glance up at his superior, "I s'pose not."

A curious brow larked at the mention of a shifter two classes up. He had Kael in his class, though he'd never seen the Initiate shift into anything other than humanoids. Not that being a shapeshifter was quite the same. At least Kael and the other unknown Initiate were human.

He wasn't even certain if his curse made him an inhuman mongrel, or simply a cursed human. How did one categorize such things?

"No?" amusement colored the smirk curling into his scruff, "You should try it sometime, it's very cathartic."

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia snrrk'd. No matter how dour the conversation got, Kilien had a talent for raising spirits right back up again.

She cast a sidelong look at him, sporting a bit of a puckish smile of her own.
"What, is that an invitation?" she asked playfully.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Dinner and a bite?

Sheee-it.

There was no way she wasn't flirting in his book and frankly getting bitten by a dragon-lady was probably up there in the top ten of most mens' fantasies. Kilien couldn't say it wasn't an appealing prospect. Having just bared-all aside from his birthday suit to the Dreadlord, there wasn't exactly anything left to hide. And if she somehow turned him into some weirder freak of nature? Maybe they'd outright dispose of him or maybe he'd be strong enough to finally get away.

Fuck it, if she wanted a bite she could have it.

"You bet your gilded abs it is."

 

[Zinnia]

"...Oh..."
Never had her brows traveled higher or her eyes opened wider than at Kilien's response to her question, but by every god on Arethil was she not passing up this opportunity. Her cheeks must've been burning red beneath the scales and freckles that lined them.

"Um...then I guess I'll just..." she began to lean towards Kilien. Gods, she had no idea where to put her hands!
Zinnia drew closer to the base of his neck, shallow breaths possibly tickling the skin. She felt her lips part slowly, and as the distance narrowed, she felt her sharp, lengthy canines graze his skin.

Chomp.

It was gentle, the most caring a dragon-fanged bite could be, as perhaps only Zinnia could make one.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

He could hear her heart fluttering like a butterfly in a heavy breeze and he didn't even need to see the red of her cheeks to sense the warmth of the blood flushing within the skin when she leaned in close. Every languid sense of his sharpened as he lay there, the easiest target a predator could ever hope for.

To be consumed. What a blissful punishment for a monster like himself. He briefly let the vision of her latching around his throat and ripping it in crimson ribbons from beneath his jaw. Kil even tipped his head back to grant her prime purchase, the slow and steady rhythm of his own heart a hopeful dirge. It wasn't as though he expected any of that from her, not from what he'd learned of her so far, but a man could romanticize the strangest things.

Even his own death after a delicious dinner beneath the stars, far away from his tormentors and prison.

But reality did not come close at all. She, like a babe testing her fangs, barely even managed to pinch his skin. He wasn't so much disappointed as much as he was briefly confused, amused, and mildly ... endeared? She was precious and kind and all the things a Dreadlord usually wasn't.

"Hm," he stifled a faint laugh, withdrawing one of his hands from behind his head to place it between her shoulder blades. "Harder," Kilien rumbled low at her, "like you want to," and let his hand slide further down her back to squeeze around her in encouragement.

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia gasped under Kilien's touch, every one of her senses on edge. She did not, could not, know what thoughts ran through the boy's mind as he sat next to her, but she heard his words well. Though she was unaware of it and Kilien could not see it, Zinnia's pupils constricted down to razors and her nose wrinkled into a snarl at those very words.

"Harder, like you want to,"

Instinct was a powerful thing.

Zinnia pulled herself tighter against Kilien. Her hands suddenly knew where to be, one gripping a handful of fabric on the chest of Kilien's shirt, the other wrapping around the far side of his neck. She bit down, hard, feeling her fangs lengthen and sink into the base of Kilien's neck.

Little words bounced around in her head, just like every other time she let herself slip into her changes.
Want. Need. Hunger. Lonely. Stay. Take.
All just instinct fighting against reason, wishing desperately to, for once, let go.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Breath stuck in his throat, the hand at Zinnia's back tightened and coiled around her to be joined by his other hand as it dove for her hair, surging into the dark brown locks for a clutching grip. Kilien bit down into the surge of pain in his neck, sweet and euphoric fire, and loosed a strangled moan.

Now his own heartbeat had picked up pace, racing to match that of hers. It wasn't the first time he'd been bitten by another but it didn't dull the sensation or the experience any. Pain had long since become a form of release for him, though he'd learned over the years he could handle far more of it than most, even among the Dreadlord ilk. To the point that he welcomed it - whatever it took to help him forget.

Though he wasn't terribly clear on what he was trying to forget anymore.

Did dragons suffer bloodlust? Would she drink him dry and leave him as a withered husk in these woods? Would he recover, as he always seemed to, and live to remember it like some kind of fever dream? Whatever his fate, he was ready and willing to accept it, offering no hint of resistance to the dragon-lady as he eased and relaxed into the burn of her fangs and the grip of her hands.

 

[Zinnia]

Take. See. Feel.

Zinnia moved her body now, adjusting so that she straddled Kilien. She raked a clawed hand, wrapped in scales of brass, down from his clavicle. The fabric would be shredded, and Kilien would surely feel the burning sensation of his skin being opened anew.

The feeling of flesh upon her teeth felt good. Natural. Like every time she'd wandered into the forests outside the Academy at night, by herself. So different now then it did in her nightmares back in Pernach. Her other hand ran into Kilien's hair, much more gentle, her fingers weaving in with the soft locks.

She was a fire of pent up aggression and frustration, and Kilien had offered himself as a willing outlet.

And yet.

The warmth and wetness, the taste of iron, flowed across her tongue. Her eyes dilated, and the force of her bite relented. Her teeth withdrew from Kilien and Zinnia's upper body rose silently, her hands splayed wide and resting atop Kilien's chest.

Zinnia's eyes were hidden behind a curtain of her own hair, though her horns were on prominent display, curling back over her own head like a crown of bone and bronze. She was silent, breathing heavily, her expression unreadable. Yet she did not move from her place atop her prone prey.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

A strangled gasp followed the slicing of his front, though Kilien was well idling in the persistent euphoria of the bite so he hardly felt much beyond pressure over his pectoral. His inner eye was seeing red, envisioning an end to this existence in a pool of scarlet. There were surely worse ways to go - tortured in the dungeons beneath the Academy or caged up in the hidden cell block beyond the Academy grounds where every full moon he whiled away the hours of his change.

Pacing.

Panting.

Salivating.

Needing.

Yearning.

Every time he awoke from that stupor he half expected to still be in that block. He was waiting for the day they simply never came back for him, as threatened more than a few times by now. But every single time, he awoke in the infirmary under the care of Nurse Joilene. The two of them were really getting to know one another well by now after two years of it.

When Zinnia pulled away, his fingers didn't want to let her, and though she slipped through his grasp it still tried to hold her there a little longer. A silent plead to just end him, falling unspoken upon her thighs.

Kilien made a sound somewhere between a garble and a chuckle, blood freely seeping from his neck and chest but beginning to slow. The slices were already in the process of healing.

"See?" he mumbled, eyes sliding open to resume their distant stare at the night stars overhead, "cathartic."

She deserved catharsis. He deserved oblivion. They made a good pair, he thought, a foil to one another.

"Why did you stop?" the knitting of his brow and the waver of his voice were the only things holding back the growing desire to scream at her to simply end it all before the memories came back.

 

[Zinnia]

The subtle sound of Zinnia's labored breathing did not slow nor quiet. She was suffering an all too different crisis right alongside--or atop--Kilien.

"...Please..." she spoke at last. Her voice came as a strained murmur, her fingers curling against Kilien's chest. Though her eyes remained hidden, it was plain to see her lips fighting against the grimace her mind tried to pull them into.

"...See me...as I am...all of me..."

Her elbows bent forward against her will, and she willed away the urge to collapse.

"I'm so tired of hiding...of feeling alone...of being unwanted. I just want to feel different. Even if it isn't real."

Her teeth grit and her body seized for a moment. Fabric tore, and wings, leathery, spined, draconic, stretched wide as though for the first time as the scraps of Zinnia's thin shirt fell away. She lifted her face, her form framed by the pale moonlight slipping through the forest's canopy above, and her golden eyes looked upon Kilien's, pleading.

"Just for one night. Make me feel wanted. Let me feel seen."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"...Please..."

Such a simple word that had moved all hell, if one could believe the old-world lore, was enough to move his gaze from the stars to two gilded irises. Was he high? What properties of her bite had brought this vision to his eyes? Kilien watched, muted and awed, as she shed the last of her false skin to bare what no other had seen before.

An aura of silver faintly surrounded the shimmer of bronze and like some otherworldly creature descended upon him, demon or angel he could not say, he felt the weight of the moment upon him more than he felt the weight of the woman. Her words echoed through his mind, disembodied within the gleam, and stirred in his chest a remnant of recognition for her suffering.

He remembered the darkness of his previous life and the confines of his chamber. The silence that permeated every dark corner and crack in the wall. Waiting for someone, for anything to take him from one misery to the next.

How could something so beautiful know such loneliness? His right hand trailed along her thigh and lifted to touch at the edges of a wing like one might reach to touch at the effervescent gleam of a rainbow. When it made contact he realized quite soundly that he was not hallucinating at all, and looked back to Zinnia's face with a mixture of uncertainty and concern. It wasn't fair that someone like her should know such a sadness. All because of Vel Anir - this wretched fucking institution, this inhumane farce of society. So willing to bring ruin to the lives of others in the name of righteous justice.

With a tight breath he pulled himself to sit up, eyes slowly roving over the naked form of the young woman he had, up until just now, looked and referred to as Boss. There was a lot about this moment and situation that didn't feel quite right and Kilien liked to believe he was the kind of person who would maintain decorum, respect, and honor. He knew what she was asking and a man of honor would have probably declined to give in completely.

Kilien wasn't that man.

He was a cursed creature who never seemed capable of turning down the rare opportunity of comfort or pleasure. Especially not when it arrived so wantingly and willingly onto his lap.

"I see you," he replied, voice low as he gazed upon her and slowly leaned forward until her bangs tickled his nose and his scruff tickled her chin, lips a hairsbreadth apart, gazes connected, "you're beautiful." The kiss that followed was unburdened by pain or fear, but naked in its own right of hunger and desire. Kilien leaned into her, hands shifting across hips and up her back to pull her in.

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia's eyes squeezed shut at first. She expected rejection, even from someone who had admitted to being like her. She hated her form so badly...how could he not?

She flinched slightly as she felt the touch of Kilien's fingers on her wing, her breath held in her chest. Slowly, so slowly, her lids opened once more to behold what surely must have been horror or disgust on Kilien's face. Instead, she was greeted with the sight of him pulling himself closer to her, taking in the whole sight of her with something near a fire in his eyes.

"I see you,"

Her brows folded in towards each other and she felt the corners of her eyes wet, the pull to cry at just those words feeling so strong. He narrowed the distance even further and her sadness began to evaporate. She drank in the sight of him, so close now, the young man whom she'd spent the last few days with, and the last few hours admiring ever more.

"You're beautiful."

Zinnia melted. Into Kilien. Into the moment. Into the kiss--her first, and everything she'd ever imagined. Her eyes fluttered shut and she embraced him, scaled hands gently framing his face and taking in every detail they could feel.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

There was a bittersweetness to the way she molded into his touch that spoke to him more than her words did of her longing for connection and her need for acceptance. He knew the feeling all too well. So well that at one point in his life, when he'd lived in the dark sequestered away from others and the only physical contact he'd received had been pain and torture, he'd begun to look forward to it.

Just to feel something.

Now that he lived at the Academy, two years of being avoided by others for not just the rumors attached to his namesake but the outsider blood that ran through his veins, even the sparring grounds had become one of the few places he'd found connection. The rare free time during missions abroad often found him seeking out brothels and flop houses if he had the coin. When he didn't? Sometimes he got lucky if he charmed a barmaid enough to share her bed for a night. Or even just a few hours.

So he kissed her with want, driving past the usual paced tenderness he normally practiced during initial encounters, and pulled her in against him as snugly as their bodies would allow. His hands wandered across her back and sides, kneading and massaging - though hesitating when he felt the swell of flesh that marked the top of her tail and the harder protrusions of the base of her wings.

After a few moments of skirting the areas, he decided this was just one thing he'd simply had to voice.

He broke from her lips but not so far that she couldn't feel his breath still upon her mouth, "Hey, uh-"

How did one word this without making it sound weird?

"I've never been with someone that had ...wings and a tail," though he'd come close to bedding a Komodo one night, which is the closest actual tail he'd been with, except he... she? Weren't they both? It didn't matter. Kilien couldn't afford them and his usual charm wasn't enough to make up the difference.

He gave short huff of humor at the memory, "Can I touch them?"

 

[Zinnia]

It wasn't difficult to sense that hesitation. Why was he so cautious? Was he afraid of hurting Zinnia? Or just afraid of her? If how closely Kilien otherwise pulled her to him was anything to go off of, she couldn't imagine that it was that. Not anymore.

When he pulled back, there was a brief moment of panic. Had he changed his mind? But, no. Again, she was being silly. A gentle, breathy laugh escaped her. She cast her eyes downwards, suddenly bashful.

"I've never been with anyone, actually..." she admitted quietly. Slowly she looked back up at him, nodding just slightly. She reached back and gingerly placed his hand on the scaly growth of one of her wings. "I want you to touch them...it feels nice."