Private Tales The Fall

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
She could see it, imagine it in her mind, conjure the flashback of the man on top of her who's throat she'd opened. There had been so much blood. She could recall the warmth of it, the coppery taint that she could still smell now. The thought of opening Raziel's throat in the same manner was both tempting and terrifying. Her honey gaze lingered on the pulsing artery as his fingers curled around her wrist to lower the blade from it and his voice dragged her from her thoughts.

She nodded, and her fingers held tightly on the blade as he pressed it against his neck, and she watched as the crimson skin tightened under the pressure.

Do it..

Her eyes rose to meet those unnerving yellow orbs, a subtle frown drawing her brows together as though in mute protest, but her focus shifted back to the blade and her other hand affirmed it's grip on his shirt. Her heart was more thrum than beat now, and she let a breath spill from her lips as she pressed the blade in, and dragged it across his skin.

The wound was not deep, nor long, but it struck her just how easily the blade seemed to melt through it and watched his blood, his power, leak out and race down the contour of his collar.
 
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  • Devil
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The cold kiss was suddenly a hot brand. The sudden flare of pain caused his pulse to leap again. Raziel's mouth snapped open, eyes widened a fraction. His lips froze like that, somewhere between exquisite pain and ecstasy. He let the pain wash over him until it was just a dull throb.

"Such small margins. Life and death, the power to control them," Raziel said. The corners of his lips curled upwards and he looked back at her with an open-mouthed smile. His own blood pooled at the collar of his shirt, the streaks drying quickly as the blood hardened around the wound quickly.

"Can you feel that point of balance? Delicate as the blade of the knife itself."
 
  • Nervous
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Feyre watched his reaction, unaware of the captivation written across her face, or that her fingers were still curled into his shirt, her body lapsed to paralysis. Was it really that simple? She had done it once before, but the situation was different and she hadn't had time to think, only to survive. Now though, she had too much time to think, to stare at the bleeding she'd caused, if only a little. And she felt in that moment that perhaps, she was not as powerless as she thought. It was the first soothing notion she'd had in days and she clung to it, letting it warp and twist in her mind, assuring her, empowering her.

She looked to the blade still held close to his neck, seeing her own amber eyes staring back at her in the steel surface, the edge stained with his blood.

"Yes." she answered, blinking her expression back into place to look at him with a soft frown and unfurl her fingers from his shirt. She had been too close to him for too long, and she breathed out as she stepped back and waited for him to release her wrist, a little more disturbed by herself rather than him for a change.
 
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Raziel let the smile slowly fade away. This was fascinating. They did not have much time left, but perhaps there was a little entertainment left. Perhaps he could convince her to willingly murder someone along the way. Perhaps he could make her feel that she had some control over her life and then teach her that she had absolutely none at all.

"Just a little blood," he remarked. He released her wrist and brought his fingers to the cut across his neck. The blood boiled away into the ether and he closed his eyes. "But a little power too. I have set some minor alarm wards. Do not go walking far away in the night."

They were two way. He thought it far more likely that she would try to escape than anyone would find them off the beaten track. He would put the fire out before it was truly dark.

"Soon we will get away from this wretched countryside and under a real roof," he declared.
 
  • Thoughtful
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Feyre pulled her arm against her chest as he released it, her gaze fixed on the blood that dissipated. She hated how fascinated she was by it, and as he spoke she turned away from him to return to the fire, dropping the bloodied blade on the leather roll on the ground as she passed it.

She sat down in the glow of the firelight and closed her eyes in appreciation of it's warmth and comfort for a brief moment.

A roof..
Her shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh at the thought of it. A hearth, a soft bed, a cooked meal, perhaps even some hot water. She hated how she leaned into his words, like a body seeking shelter from a storm. Feyre didn't want to speak to him. She knew he'd won their game, and she knew that he knew it too.

Her eyes opened as it dawned on her that she had no coin, but she had trinkets of value and whether sentimental or not, she would not starve and freeze over her 'idle opulence'. Trinkets did not keep people alive, unless they could be sold or traded for food and shelter. Her fingertips checked at her lobes in fear she'd lost the little emerald droplets that her mother had given her, but they were safe, and she hid them away under her hair once again.

She lay down to watch the flames devour the fire wood, the same ghastly orange grin that had devoured her home. Her eyes closed, and she dreamt of fire, of blood, and a devil on her shoulder.
 
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"Ah come now who taught you to look after things like...now I have to clean the others too..."

Aftet the moment of thick tension, his idle complaint seemed like deliberate humour. It was not. For a tiefling so willing to enter the darkness, to wade through blood and gore for what he wanted, he was quite fussy about his belongings and his clothes.

Raziel busied himself with that for a few minutes and then sat by the fire himself. He did not sit opposite her. He sat close enough to be just on the edge of uncomfortably close. Enough that when his tail flicked out back and forth across the forest floor behind them, the tip ended almost directly behind her.

Nothing needed to be said for the moment. Some looked into the fire, fascinated by the danger it held. She now held his attention in the same way.

It was not a safe place to be.
 
  • Nervous
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She was distinctly aware of how close he was to her, but she tried not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to her as she fell into sleep. Some time before first light she had rolled over, shivering with cold and her hand grasped at forest leaves in search of a blanket. Instead she found his tail, and she snapped back to consciousness with a gasp and shoved it away from her as she sat bolt upright.

Feyre growled irritably and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Sleep had not been a pleasant thing anyway, but if he was trying to make her even more uncomfortable he'd succeeded.

"Keep that thing to yourself will you?.." she huffed and pushed herself to her feet, her arms wrapping tightly around her against the chill.
 
"Keep that thing to yourself will you?.."

Raziel turned to her sharply, lips drawn back over his sharp teeth. Clearly, he had been woken by someone playing rough with his tail. It shifted into a wicked smile ever so easily.

"I'm afraid it does get places it's not supposed to," he replied. It slipped around the back of her knee quickly. Raziel was going to snap it back very quickly if she decided to tread on it.

"And I am afraid that in that particular regard, you are simply missing out," he added.

Barely a mote of consciousness greeting the dawn and he was already deliberately trying to knock her off kilter.
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
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The sharpness of his bared teeth were not lost on her. She suppressed a shudder and forced her frown to deepen as his snarl twisted into a discomforting smile. She kicked out as she felt the thing curling around her knee and she moved away from him.

"I said keep it to yourself!" she snapped, a tremble in her words as she stepped back, lapsing into an affronted silence at the insinuation of his statement. Her head shook at him and she glowered and turned her back on him to walk toward Eponine and saddle her.

"I should've let you fucking die." she growled to herself.
 
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He laughed from the belly, but it quickly turned to a hiss of pain as the shudder reached his wound. She was afforded a little revenge without having to lift a finger.

"And I think..." he finally said as he stood slowly, "...that you make far too much of my 'beastly' appearance. People are exciting by the strange and the unknown. Besides, I cannot imagine being without a tail. It's like an extra hand. Can't you think of how much that could be put to use? Day and night?"

That he had found another way to upset the orphan provided at least a modicum of entertainment first thing.
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
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The laughter at her expense had her jaw clench so hard it ached, but at the sound of pain she turned to sneer in amusement over her shoulder at him. Her attention shifted back to the saddle and straps as he continued to speak.

Her eyes rolled. "There is absolutely nothing about you that I find in any way exciting. You're repulsive, you and your abhorrent extra limb." she frowned and turned back to him as she led Eponine into the clearing.

"If you think you do anything more than repulse me then you're sadly mistaken. Now lets get on our way." she huffed.
 
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"I frighten you," he replied firmly as he gathered his belongings. There was no point hiding the remains of the campfire. If anyone was skilled enough to find it out here then they were more than up to the task of tracking them both.

"You're not an idiot, so of course you do."

Raziel took a few moments to check his wound over before saddling up. There was still a touch of magic around it. Even though it would take time to heal, it would be protected from infection for now.

"Life isn't worth living unless you feel your heart racing from time to time."
 
  • Devil
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Her jaw clenched. She'd already revealed that much, it was pointless to deny. "No I'm not an idiot." she answered as she pulled herself up into her saddle. "But irrespective of what torment you inflict on me, I have nothing left for you to take. You can't hurt me more than you and those goons already have."

She left his latter statement without comment. Her life had, admittedly, been mundane - but she would sell her soul to have it back. The loneliness was crushing, and the only thing keeping her head above water was the focus on keeping herself alive in his company. She dreaded the crash if and when she ever reached safety, she feared that more than she feared him, and could only hope to find a mage capable of manipulating her mind in some way.

She kicked gently at Epione's sides, led her back through the copse of trees, and back onto the road.
 
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Time. If only there had been more time to prove how truly wrong she was. The girl thought that a little personal mental anguish was the same as the pain he could inflict on her. Raziel was an artisan with all of his tools.

But the body was only half of the picture. Her mind needed a few more days to recover. Humans were more resilient than they thought. They forgot easily, particularly when it suited them. She perhaps didn't know it, but she still had her dignity. He would have taken that first.

Just another day and they would be with her family. He didnt want them to just hang her from the rafters, he decided. That would be very boring.

"You have yourself. Don't be quick to dismiss that," he muttered as he rode past her to take the lead. He rather deliberately flicked his tail out - cautious not to let it go close enough to be grabbed - as he passed.
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
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Honey eyes darkened as she turned to glare at him riding past her, his tail narrowly missing her, and she swore under her breath as she flinched. "Enough!"

"If you plan on harming me then why draw it out? I saved your life. I gave you my blood. Despite everything you've done, and still you persist with your tormenting!" she snapped. "Why is it so important to you that I fear you?!"

"I should've let you die or cut your throat when I had the chance." she muttered bitterly.
 
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He chuckled, but her snap made him decide that this was enough for now. He turned and waved a hand into the air as if dismissing her complaints as an idle thing.

"Because - and this is entirely honest - riding a horse through nothing at all is very boring. And you probably should have done, but then I doubt you would have made it safely anywhere. Logic won. How does that make you feel?" he asked.

Apparently he was going to stop the torment as long as a different discussion could be provided to bide the time.
 
  • Dwarf
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"Piss off." she muttered childishly in response to his question.

One day. Just one more day and she would be rid of him and she would be safe. She ignored the doubts at the back of her mind and pressed forward, ignoring him as much as she could.

If she'd known they were only another hour or so from a small town she might have continued on rather than spend another night in the woods. She pulled back on Epione's reins at the top of the hill and looked down over the valley, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips. Somewhere they could get a decent meal perhaps. Somewhere she could find someone more able to offer her help than the farmer and his wife.

Her brow quirked as she turned to look at him.. "Perhaps I can send word to the Baron to send for me here and we can cut our journey short."
 
A conundrum. He hadn't thought of this possibility. It was sloppy. The Baron almost certainly had more assassins at his disposal; he had found Raziel easily enough.

If he thought she had escaped on her own then the chances were the welcoming party would come in the night. It was hard to disagree with her suggestion, but he needed time to think. Needed the Baron to understand the situation. It was a little soft of him to want Feyre to survive this whole mess, but she had spared him.

"I think we could both do with more rest," he agreed. Raziel looked down at the state of himself and then up at the town.

"Maybe we should find some water and clean up enough that we don't draw too much attention as we arrive?"
 
  • Thoughtful
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He had a point. She looked down at herself and groaned. She'd probably be shooed away like an urchin if she wandered into town looking like she did. She could at least clean up a little.

"Fine." she muttered and clicked her tongue as she pulled on her reins to lead Epione off of the road and down into the valley toward the river that ran through the woods.

Her brow furrowed as she cast a look at him.. "Though, don't you draw attention anywhere you go? I don't think anyone is going to care about blood and dirt when they see the tail and horns."
 
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"Tieflings are not so uncommon," he remarked. "Even in this backwater part of the world. Humans are so used to grovelling to anyone who orders them about and acts as if they have power."

He was still feeling sore about his coat. Raziel did enjoy the finer things in life. He did not know that his favourite Elbion tailors had now lose their shops.

"Normally people expect travelling tieflings to be entertainers. Parlour tricks with magic, that kind of thing. I can actually juggle quite well. Would you like to see?"
 
Feyre sneered at his persistent taunting about grovelling humans, but she could hardly disagree and that only irritated her more.

"No. Thank you." she answered dryly, drawing her eyes away from him and lifting her chin a little as they approached the shallows.

"But yes, if anyone asks I'll be sure to tell them that you are a clown. A travelling fool, here to entertain them." she mused and slipped down from her saddle.
 
"Of course, I can show them some tricks and amuse the masses," he replied.

His response was cool and calm. However, the amusement on his face was a little forced. His tail gave an irritated twitch. He didn't want her to know if any barbs managed to catch him.

Raziel tied the remains to the loop of as heavy tree root. The nearby trees reached out through the ground towards the water to sate their thirst.

He slipped his coat from his shoulders and rolled it into a ball and placed it on the driest rock he could find. Raziel lifted his torn tunic over his head. They couldn't amend the tear over his chest, but at least if he could make the blood stains less obvious it wouldn't draw the eye.
 
Feyre's lips twisted as she looked up and down the winding stream. She'd been covered in blood, both her own and otherwise, she'd fallen in the wet dirt, been soaked by rain, slept on the floor and what she really needed was a hot bath with lathers of soap. Soon, she'd have it, but she was a sorry sight of a woman at this moment and she'd need to be at least a little more presentable to be believed.

She sat on a rock to kick off her boots, and rolled her leggings up to her shins to wade into the shallows, ducking under low hanging tree branches and stepping up over rocks and logs to find herself some privacy. The cold water nipped at her skin and she stumbled here and there as she stood on jagged rocks until finally she found one large enough and obscured enough to sit on. After a wary glance over her shoulder, only just making out the crimson skin through the branches, she lifted her shirt over her head and leaned over the pool of water to wash the grime from her skin and hair. She ground her teeth against the biting cold as the water hit her skin, and her fingertips found the ragged scar on her chest and followed it with a soft frown.

Even if she did manage to forget, there would always be this, a visual reminder that her life was bad enough that she wanted nothing more than to end it. In her moment alone she cried silently, she spared herself only a minute to feel, and quickly washed the tears from her face and pushed the depression back down. It wasn't like things could get any worse, she told herself.
 
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It wasn't like things could get any worse, she told herself.

"Looks like it's cold in there," called a voice. The voice of a shirtless tiefling perched on the rock above her trying his hardest to make it worse. He had his head canted to one side, staring pointedly at her chest. With bare feet he could pad around almost silently.

Full dressed, carrying a brace of knives and in heavy boots he could be silent as a ghost when he needed to be too.

"I can fetch a blanket for you to dry off?" he offered.
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
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Feyre flinched and drew in a sharp, audible gasp as her gaze darted toward him. "Fucking hell." Her arms wrapped around her chest and she hunched forward with a sneer and a growl, feeling her heart pound in her chest.

"Thief, murderer, arsonist not enough for you - you have to add lecher to your list?.." she muttered and clenched her jaw as she looked back up at him. "I'll manage on my own. In case it wasn't obvious, privacy was all I asked." her gaze narrowed and she tried and failed to suppress a shiver.
 
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