I wasn't sure why I was here, standing before the ring of fire. Social gatherings weren't exactly my area of expertise, and if you had asked me to tag along I probably would have come up with some excuse at the last minute as to why I couldn't make it. Or at least, I would have in the past, but coming to Novus had been a time of rebirth. The pact between myself and my siblings, that I would leave to not only learn how to be a better medic rather than the primitive learnings of my viking like village, but that I would embrace the different cultures and grow closer with myself. Be something more than a gaurdian.
So I found myself, staring into the belly of the beast. Orange flames reflecting in the flame hued pools of my eyes, dancing like a nursing student trying to pay her way through schooling, as I listened to the giggles and flirtation of the couples huddled around the bonfires speckled across the meadows. It was painfully clear to me at that point that I was in fact, very alone. The only other creature I had actually taken the time to meet in these lands so far had been the silvery dragon mare, Sera. But as of yet I hadn't been able to pick her out in this mosh pit of bodies. My gaze pulled away from the flames momentarily to look out over the meadows, it seemed that there was at least someone here from every court imaginable. I wasn't overly surprised by this...if I had heard about the event then surely everyone in the lands had.
A sigh slipped from between inky lips as I turned away from the bonfire I was standing before, heavy limbs slowly pulling me away from the outskirts of the party to wander just ever so slightly. Nervous energy danced through my body as I stepped closer to the gathering, meeting new people wasn't exactly my strong suit. Small talk was a skill I was less than familiar with, when someone was dying it wasn't the little stuff they wanted to talk about. I had discussed family matters, last wishes, bucket list items that hadn't been completed, and sometimes even their proudest moments, with strangers who were in critical condition...but small talk with healthy and even slightly intoxicated beings was a whole other ball game.
speech
got a heart like a wheel
baby, let's go
« r » | « image » | tag; @Euryale | words; 401 | notes; sorry, my writing is trash e.e It'll get better I promise!
the blood on my teeth begins to
taste like a poem, like religion
My laughter falls dark with sin. I want to kiss the moonlight. I want to get lost in the music. I want to steal kisses from strangers, as they whisper back with an aching want. Blue smoke billows against my thighs, as I sashay with sultry promise and sensual abandon, against the ruinous flames. Beneath thin streams of moonlight, I laugh and dance, wickedly. I throw my head backwards and my laughter echoes like silk into the night. I feel so alive. I feel like a sinner. I feel like a living flame, dancing in a sea of hot bodies, as I carve them up like a wolf hunting between moonsong and storm shadow. All around me, I can hear the grinding noise of chaos and pleasure. All around me, the dancers spin, laugh and exchange passionate kisses.
I can feel their caresses, sliding down my spine. I can feel the heat of their soft touches, running against my curves, and I enjoy the feeling of being caressed so openly. It feels like ecstasy. Pure, unbridled ecstasy. And I want more. I want them all. Including the mysterious stranger shrouded in darkness and in silence. Only when I see him pass my gaze, only then do I slow my dancing. I tilt my gaze to one side and study him between the shadows of waltzing bodies. I watch him closely, my lips a firm line. There is a secret part of me that fears he would get lost in the crowd. That I would lose him; forgetting the contours of his face, the deep lines of his handsome jaw, all caught in bonfire smoke and lovers' moonlight.
At the edge of forest-darkness, where meadow meets river, beneath luminous moonbeams – with starlight, gleaming across a black river made of reflections, and fire – Euryale dances with a group of heathens and gypsies. Euryale becomes her own hunger. In her image, hunger crawls through her heart made of thorns and vengence. Her heart howls like a wardrum, when she dances; beating like a fist, beneath her ivory breast. When she dances, she dances with passion on her breath; the shuddering violence of crimson curves, smoothing down with blood and sweat and grace, like wine smoothes down a parched throat. Her hips swing with feral longing; swaying to the rhythm of the flames, to the rhythm of desire. Her pale hair, flung in wild abandon. Descending in ruinous waterfalls of lilac across her shoulderblades. With cruel gyspy eyes, Euryale Calantha dances wickedly around the flames. Each step she makes becomes a provocative tease; each curling limb, waltzing with both hunger, and relentless appetite and sensual madness, while her lips hiss and beckon come-hither promises for the damned.
Tonight she feels wilder than love, wilder than religion – with hunger crawling through her like a sickness, a disease. Music becomes a starved lover, aching to hold the sensuous angles of her body close; each possessed melody, screaming out for want of more. Tasting her heart, body and soul. Music bellows like a wild animal through the wanting of flesh. Tonight, there is no room for separation – there is no room for absence, for distance, for shyness. Tonight, there is only rampant lust, there is only chaotic pleasure, and the tangled blur of drunken laughter, echoing deep into the evening. There is only pleasure and darkness and sweat-laden bodies, caught in the sensual trance; maddening music and over-indulgence, a ravenous whirlpool of toxic need. Fire, lust, laughter, alcohol. Each melody, each vice, each promise – becomes a wanton caress of pure addiction. A forbidden whisper of passion, laced with temporary heat. Sweat clings to skin. Breath falls, hot and heavy. The moon glows with a wicked desire. A desire to see her come undone. Tonight is the night for fallen angels – fallen angels, with thorns for halos. And when Euryale and Lilith both spy the strange man, hugging the outer edges of the roaring crowd, they cannot help but stalk him among the shadows.
When she dances, she dances in the sea of teeming bodies, like a shark dances in oceans of foam. She laughs like hunger, and whispers like violence. When she dances, she dances in a blur of feral hunger; spinning in a tempest fury of blood and lilac. Hurricane woman. Banshee. Witch. With now-slow, calculated steps, Euryale dances toward the silent figure; the man cloaked in darkness. The blue smoke follows her like a doting pet. Her pale hair curling against her face. Her body appears touched by silver, soaking in all that effervescent moonlight. Her voice wants to find him in the dark; their low, husky caress; their alluring whispers, touched by the song of tender femininity and devils wanting. "Enjoying yourself, stranger?" When she smiles, her fangs glisten, moon-bright; and the shadows beneath her gaze, suddenly thickens. It is hard to say if it's desire, if it's danger, or threat. But the way she looks at him – unholy, inviting – and the ghost gentleness of her voice; all whispered of wickedness, of ruination. "May I have this dance?"
like the way you look at me
10-16-2020, 08:53 PM
Played by
Semper [PM] Posts: 8 — Threads: 3 Signos: 700
Torin found himself wandering aimlessly along the outskirts of the party. His dark frame clinging like a small child to the dancing shadows created by the multitude of flames, he himself seemed to slip into the flames themselves, his appearance tonight was like that of a demon you would expect to step out of the flames only to lure you into the dangerous embrace. His coat was as dark as the charcoals left behind by the logs that had already been exhausted of their usefulness, his eyes matched the dangerous glow of the flames, dark tangled tresses clung to the strings of smoke that wove through the night sky. Torin knew that each and every attendee to this mosh pit of flames would smell like smoke for weeks after these flames turned to ashes. But that wasn't a concern of his at the moment, rather his fire-y gaze settled on a small gathering of gypsies, their hips swayed to the music as if it was being played just for them.
He was mesmerized by their motions and for half a second the idea of joining them tossed around between his ears. But, he was pulled back to reality when his gaze landed on a particular member of this gaggle. She was astounding. Her body quilted in a deep red and a white as pure as a virgin's night gown. Her long, snowy mane and tail trailed around her, moving with each sensual movement, it was as if her aura was pulling him in with each sway of her hips. Torin fought himself, his body yearning to move towards the mystical creature while his brain screamed to look away and to continue his wandering around the outskirts of the party. Approaching the mare would mean interaction with a stranger, an attractive stranger at that.
With a harsh shake of his head and clearing his throat, the black stallion succeeded at turning away from the group of gypsies and moving back towards his shadowed comfort. He hadn't gotten far before words interrupted the distant beating of drums. "Enjoying yourself, stranger?" A moment of dread washed over his frame as he turned around to see who his company was, only to be greeted by the very creature he had just been watching dance. Her beauty was even more intoxicating when in close proximity, she smiled and Torin could already tell he was in over his head with no hopes of rescue. "Well, my night just got significantly better." He smiled in return, allowing his eyes to drift over the mare just for a moment before returning to her white washed features. "May I have this dance?" The tantalizing creature spoke up once more, her words danced through the air as she had been just moments previously. Torin laughed, soaking in the adrenaline caused by being near the creature. "I believe I may need a drink or five beforehand. Would you like to join me?"
speech
got a heart like a wheel
baby, let's go
« r » | « image » | tag; @Euryale | words; 497 | notes; dun dun dunnnnn
