Music: Setting the mood.

[Dies Irae]

Hello and welcome to Music: Setting the mood.

I am Dies Irae and like many of you i listen to some of my inspiring pieces of music when writing my roleplay replies, plots and stories. In any good scene of a movie, music is chosen and played in the background to fit the scene that is taking place, this also works in role-playing for example when i write my replies for Infection or my Fear, Danger and Loneliness story, i often listen to Nakigahara by The GazettE, the music of this song reminds me of an undead infested place and when writing zombie stories it often helps me come up with ideas to write.

So what is the meaning of this thread, well its for practicing scene writing to the tone of a song, in this thread every few days i will post a song randomly and your challenge is to write a scene of any length, in any setting, with any characters. There is no guidelines or rules to what you write, just what scene you think the music i post would be the background sound to.

Without further delay here is the first piece you'll be writing to, for the first challenge we will be writing to an instrumental, no words, just music, soon enough we will be moving onto full songs complete with lyrics.

Any suggestions for songs, or any messages about this thread may be PMed to me on here, thank you for reading and lets get the ball rolling. Post your writings in this thread, each song will last a week until it changes. Good Luck and Have fun.

First Song: Ghost Love Score (Instrumental) by Nightwish.

[/size]

[TakodaVega]

The Final Battle

The once highest angel of Heaven and the Earth flexed her wings as the thermals took her higher than they had before. The dessert below her seemed to know exactly the task of her as those hazel eyes scanned the horizon, she had been flying in search for a very specific place. Holy to those who knew and understood it's prowess. The emerald leaves of the oasis finally came into view. Her wings carefully dipped floating down carefully until her bare feat touched the ground. It was hard to believe so many centuries ago that she had been at this very same spot preparing for the Lost Cause.

For Vega this would be the last time, her once heavenly robes now sink into the sands around her as she took those steps along the water. Only the tips of her toes seemed to touch, sending the ripples across the water as she eyed her reflection. Here and there the wounds littered her skin, but she knew that with time all scars faded. Fights never ended when you stood for something untouchable by Man. Slowly her body sank into the pools the water changing from the color it was before to the purest clear water until her wings had dissipated into the air and her bare form simply soaked into the purifying waters.

It was here where her source of power could be amplified. Power rippled through her, those once ancient markings marking her the once Ruler of Angels, the Queen and known source of light and hope in the world. Through the prayers of Man could be heard and whispered to the ear of Yahweh. No matter how far she had fallen He always heard her. That was when the water spiraled up into the airy forming a disc around her, hovering her and cleansing her of the very deed she must do.

Her wings sliced through the waves revealing the Queen of Order in her heavenly armor, taking up into the air once more to the source of all that had been the source of the unrest into her life. And that was when the earth opened along the cracks of the world. Midnight poured out through it as she waited. Vega knew what was coming, and it seemed so did She. Kitira was no stranger to this routine, had never been as the Queen of Chaos rose from the darkest depths of the world. Without Kitira, as Vega knew by now, there would be no balance in the world. Balance was the key to keeping this world safe.

Which is why she had to fight Kitira.

"I see you haven't changed, Vega." came that sultry voice from the depths of the nightmare. And soon she, too, spring forth from the darkness. Despite being a thing from the darkness her wings were much like Vega's as she too hovered in the air, her part of the staff in hand while Vega held hers. The ancient staff that Vega now knew was the Key to opening the world to all the levels. The Key to Heaven, Hell, and all that lay in between.

"Nor have you Kitira," came that much calmer voice as she waited in pensive silence for the first strike. The final battle which would be the end game for them all, the Shadow versus the Light, the two to become one soul, one body in that they alone could Judge the rise and fall of Man, the silence stayed until Kitira moved those wings and the battle had begun.

Vega remained still as Kitira came ever closer, the staff seeming to move in slow motion as Vega's eyes closed. She remained relaxed, though Kitira seemed ever closer, raising the staff. Then her eyes snapped awake and the staffs clashed.

The Battle had begun...

[Dies Irae]

Standing at the gates to the kingdoms castle, Kylan had been waiting for this moment, the battle, the war was about to begin, he was a part of their army, the defenders of the king, fighting against the invading forces of the recently discovered Underforge, deep withing the mountains, they had appeared, a bloodthirsty and warring race, though through encounters he had only one enemy on his mind, donning the armor of his king, the royal seal embedded into the steel shining golden in the morning light, he knew, the steel would be bathed in blood soon enough, on his path for revenge, for his family, for his daughter. The trumpets sounded loudly, the horseman and footman began to march, the field that would be their place of victory or their tomb far in the distance.

The sun was shining midway in the sky by time they had reached their destination, on the other side of the open filed stood their enemy, the armies of the Underforge, atop the menacing beast they had named the Pinzer, the giant scorpion like mount the Underforge had used, dangerous and fast sat his target, Cylar the Immortal, a man who had committed evils far worse than any could comprehend, Kylan swore under his breath, to defeat the one who had slaughtered his family, to bring peace to his fallen kin. The looming moments of the battle made the hair on his neck stand on end, the wall of tension threatening to buckle his knees, though he stood strong, his steel blade gripped tight in his hands, before the trumpets were sounded, the battlecrys breaking the silence as they began to charge, the Underforge army charged in unison and the armies clashed in a display of bloodshed and death within minutes.

Kylan pierced his sword through countless enemies, eyes blinded with the intent to kill, driving a path forward through the enemies of his people, his destination far in the distance, the rain began to fall, the gods were crying, losses of their children, though the monks at the castle and any a man turned religious in times such as these prayed for forgiveness and victory, under the thin mist of rain the blood mixed in with the water, men and forgers alike falling to the floor lifeless. Kylan cried as he drove his sword through the stomach of the forger blocking his path to him, to Cylar.

Cylar stood amongst a pile of slaughtered men, his greatsword gripped in his hands, dripping the blood of those he believed had imprisoned his kind under the earth, Kylan rushed recklessly, aiming to down his opponent as quick as Cylar had taken the life of his beloved, the life of his daughter. Cylar though had other plans for the driven man, blocking the strike with ease before retreating to the cliffside on the edge of the battlefield, Kylan followed in pursuit, throwing the helmet to the ground, auburn hair becoming wet quickly sticking to his face.

At the cliffside, the two faced off, Kylan breathing heavily from the run, Cylar standing strong, hoisting the large weapon to point at the reckless man "You will not survive this night, may the seas have more mercy on you than I" he said taunting the over eager man, Kylan only smiled standing up with the reserve of his energy, staring his much larger opponent down "If i am destined to fall, i will drag you down into the afterlife with me!" he yelled, charging at the brute with as much strength as he had, driving the steel blade deep within the stomach of his opponent, before feeling the heat of pain wash through his shoulder, cringing as he turned his head, the blade of Cylar resting within his shoulder, blood dripping to the ground beneath him, holding his cries of pain back as his knees buckled and took him to the ground, Cylar dislodging Kylan's sword and throwing it to the ocean below, staring down at his dying opponent.

Kylan breathed raggedly, pain shooting throughout his body as he desperately clinged to life, images of his daughter and wife flashing in his mind as the rain beat down on him harder, Cylar moving behind him, laughing to the heavens "Pray for forgiveness from your gods for your arrogance and foolishness, you will receive none from me" he said mockingly, before putting a bootclad foot against the mans back, pushing and sending him to his death, as Kylan fell, he prayed, not for forgiveness, but for a second chance, a chance to avenge his family, to die peacefully knowing he succeeded in his wishes. "I will kill you, just wait and see"he whispered before his body crashed into the sea, the water enveloping and taking him below, dragging his dying body to wherever it wished to take him.

"Father! Father!" the voice of the girl was painful, the ringing in his ears making him fear his head would burst before his eyes closed again, "Theres a Man on the beach" he heard her again, where was he?, was he dead?, was that young girl his Eliza?, was he in heaven with her now? He sat up quickly, opening his eyes and looking around quickly before the pain in his shoulder became overpowering and his body fell against the bed once more, someone shifted next to him, he creaked his eyes open the light blurring his vision before it started to fade, greeting him was the worried face of a young girl, "Your awake, here drink this, ill go get Father" she said softly, warmly, Kylan looked at the wooden mug left on the side table, steam coming from the surface then fading into nothing, rolling to his side taking the cup, slowly drinking half of the contents before the hardened man entered the room.

"Lucky Sara found you, you might not be alive right now if she hadn't", his voice was calm, fatherly, worried, people were worried about him, looking confused to find the girl, this Sara bring a tray into the room, setting it on the table next to the window, he smiled softly before sitting up slowly, looking up to the man "Where am i?" he asked after a few moments, taking the cup in his hands, "Your on Balus Island, we found you on the east beach, half dead" he said taking the seat the girl had been watching him from. Kylan looked down at the liquid in the cup, while the man had taken to lighting a mahogany pipe, drinking the remainder of the tea he set the cup down slowly, "If i may ask, what may i call my saviors?" he asked respectfully, The Man he learned to be Joshua laughed with a grin, "We are no Saviors son, just kindhearted fisherman", Kylan smiled, Sara the girl who had found him, once Joshua had left, began redressing his wounds.

"How long have i been here?" he asked as she did, she continued smiling "You've been here a week now, your wounds only started healing today so be careful, if theres anything you need just ask" she said with a warm smile as she packed up her medical supplies, leaving a bucket of warm water and a towel by the bedside. Kylan sat back, he was alive, the gods had shown him favor and answered his prayer, he wouldn't fail a second time, he thought that again and again until he drifted into the embrace of sleep, his strength slowly returning over the coming days.

Three days after that moment, he stood on the villages overlook, watching the see, his arm in a splint and a sling over his shoulder, watching the waves crash against the cliffside, he had been given simple linen clothing, his armor set in a chest in the house of Joshua and Sara, the simple beige shirt and brown pants warm despite the thin materials. Looking down as he watched Sara approach and take the spot next to him, he smiled, this place was peaceful if only he could stay, he had resolved if he survived his mission to return here, Sara as it seemed read the situation well enough "Your leaving aren't you?" she asked, a saddened tone to her voice, putting a hand on her head he offered a smile "I am, i have things i need to finish" he said hiding the disappointment he felt, Sara nodded looking to the ocean, before wrapping a hand in his, looking up to him and smiling "Then promise when you finish, you'll come back to me" she said, her spirit heartened, Kylan nodded, a warm smile crossing his face as he returned the grip on her hand. "I promise, ill return", he said before the red light of the setting sun crossed the ocean water, the pair sharing natures beauty in their last moment together until they next meet.

[Niketia]

The Transformation

Centuries had past since the Queen of All Races had been whole. Infact since she fled from the beloved Garden of Eden in the beginning of time. Instead she had been divided into four separate pieces. Four different aspects filled her soul, two of the Light and two of the Dark. For before the Judgement could come Balance must be introduced.

In order for that to happen however her younger self had to learn that she was important. Truly the girl had to be one of the most selfless beings that had come from her race. She did not ask for the power that she had received. Nor did she seek it. Instead the girl only sought the happiness of those she had claimed as her own.

But the time for that was well past and now that they had no choice Lilith hoped that her young self could cope with the power she was about to be given. Well forced to receive would be the correct phrase but who was keeping track of that? Stepping from the shadows she had so long resided in she sought out Lillith, the newest Queen among their kind.

Finding her wasn't difficult, just look for the borders of Vampire territories and the Wolf colonies in the north. Gracefull raven wings carried her to her destination and as she landed silently on the edge of a vast forest she was surprised to see the object of her search waiting for her.

"You know then."

It was a statement of fact instead of a question but she received a nod in return anyways. Good the girl was ready to become what she had always been meant to be. Something that never had and never would again exist once she saw fit to leave this world. The Balance of Heaven and Hell. Companion and harbinger to the Judge.

As the two women stood facing each other, an onlooker would call them beautiful. Each had different aspects to their physical forms that would give away just what they were but neither seemed to acknowledge the contradictions they represented. The first, and obviously the Elder of the pair sported raven colored wings and the spaded tail of a demon. Something she had adopted while living with her chosen husband. The Younger, but equally powerful, stood proudly with the visage of a wolf with the fangs and stillness of her vampire mate and master.


As one they nodded, accepting the change about to happen and soon both were encompassed in light. One soft, soothing and gentle while the other radiated darkness, pain and rage. Each woman stood still as the light became blinding to any who would witness the scene until almost as quickly as it came the light disappeared and instead of two separate beings there stood only one woman.

Where before there were raven wings there were now Silver, Crimson and True Black wings. Where there had once been silver and tawny hair there was now only the purest silver. The eyes that now stared across the land were in themselves unique as they depicted the four pieces of one soul, a ring of emerald outlined a silver and gold flecked iris with its black pupil that contracted ever so slightly with the changing light of day. Each piece of her soul had contributed to the being now standing so silent.

The wolf still lingered proudly in the furry silver ears perched atop her head, the demon's spaded tail swayed back and forth, the angel present in the wings and last but not least the vampire could be seen when the woman took her first breath and a hint of fang peeked out as well as the stillness that she radiated.

Balance had been born, and now it was time to search out the Judge.

[Dies Irae]

Delayed but here is song #2, Lead Sails and A Paper Anchor by Atreyu.

[/size]

[archangelus]

I can't stop, can't pause, no time for breath, no time for thought. Must keep running, must get away. I have to escape these memories of you. The pavement rushes under me, heart racing and muscles burning. I don't want to remember, I don't want to feel the longing for you anymore.

I can feel your breath upon my neck and your fingertips upon my skin. No, I mustn't let you catch me again. I can't survive that obsession again. But your scent fills my flaring nostrils.

The faster I run, the closer I get to falling headlong into the flames once more. I can see them on the horizon, feel their heat on my face, but I can't stop myself.

I remember you and how we once were. The beautiful pain of those thoughts wait for me in the depths of the inferno I'm rushing towards, but my will is no longer my own. I've been trying so hard to escape my love for you that I've came around full circle and now all I'm running toward...is you.

I know that I will do nothing, save drown myself in the flames of my passion, as I have always done. So I never cease running, and even as I leap from the cliffs into the blazing sea below, the only sound from my lips is your name...

[Ten]

●
LIMITLESS DEVOTION

A smile. A brilliant, contorted smile stretching across his features. Her heart skipped a beat to watch it transform his face into a rictus of teeth while he spoke, all at once aggressive and threatening even as it welcomed and laughed. Not directed at her - of course not - but at the fool who had dared speak to him in such a way.

It did not matter if he acknowledged her. She'd immersed herself so completely in her non-identity, years ago, that she now preferred being first and foremost his object. Merely being close to him was enough, blending into his shadow and waiting to serve his every need, like an extra limb. He'd become a part of her.

There was a trickle of pleasure coursing through her to watch him in action, his newly possessed strength ripping the pesky weed from the earth, the smile directed at it now articulating immutable death. Using his new form like a playground jungle gym - a child gaily capering through it, thick muscles clenching in playful agitation while the thing choked and wheezed in fruitless struggle.

It wasn't always like this. The masks he'd played with before took all kinds of shapes and sizes. But this one she liked. She liked it because he so obviously enjoyed it himself, manipulating his fellow beings with the ease of a trampling God, turning destruction into a work of art. The elegance and grace was saved for when he was speaking.

The phone was taken out and silenced. It stopped the glorious show of death, but the symphony continued, put on hold as her beloved's attention was diverted - he was her beloved, but she was not his. Her focus became intensified as the musical quality of his voice changed in response to the new conversationalist. She could hear it, the change. After years of becoming one with him, the different tones he used to articulate his emotions had become a part of her as well. So even as he reacted to the it speaking through the phone, she reacted with him, silent and still as a statue but feeling what he did.

It did not last forever, the anonymous conversation finally ending on a catchy, upbeat note, and the God's attention directed back at the thing he'd yet to get tired of holding. The sudden new presence did not surprise her - anticipated from the sounds coming from the hall of the weakened footsteps and the soft dragging of fabric against the supporting wall - and his attention was diverted for a second time.

It did not notice her - the new one - despite them having a kindred skin, and it pleased her to still be hidden. And truly, the covering was her skin, making her all at once reptilian and insectile, naked and protected. And invisible; a part of the background... his environment. She was the ground the God walked on, the walls that caged him, the sky that shielded him. She was a prop in the endless play of his life, changing roles as he did, but forever a part of and isolated from his drama.

A weapon. It had been released and it's madness took over, threatening to harm him. But she did not move, even as he did not, seemingly both bored and entertained by the violence and panic being displayed. Her heart did not increase in tempo and her breathing stayed level, muscles free of tension and fatigue. There was no fear because death was not his master; Gods were immortal and he truly was, manipulating the flesh of those around him in an endless dance with the grave he never laid in.

As soon as he uttered her name, her body reacted, on the verge of instant orgasm from the sound of him uttering it into the open air. A direct order. This desire was not one that she needed to anticipate for him, but gracing her with actual words. The shadow became real and life was breathed into her by her massive, giggling God of Death.

With this rebirth came movement and visibility, joining the physical world again as she surged forward with one goal in mind: to serve. It was her turn to grab ahold of the flimsy it, and she did so effortlessly, turning it into an additional prop in the God's universe but now manipulated by her. This was where the ecstasy came from - these moments of brief existence, shining for him and moving for him, wielded like his weapon and made beautiful by his touch.  He did not need to lay a hand on her to actually touch her and her body quivered with internal excitement.

There was no beginning or end. She existed as a nothing. His tool, his toy, his pet and his mirror. Normally she existed as a part of his set, a small part of his universe.

But right now - his voice saying her name still echoing in her ears and her flesh given meaning and purpose - he'd become hers.

"On the count of using harsh language in and around Mr. Eric Patten's personal space, you have earned... one bop," she said, doling out her God's punishment upon the blasphemous thing that'd offended him.

(All characters are from TOKoR © Tartra and Ten. )

[Dies Irae]

New Song: Sorry for the delay, what i've been writing to this song can be found here.

Song No. 3: Nakigahara - The Gazette.

[/size]

[Ten]

●
THE TRIUMPH OF THE WICKED

He was happy. He was always happy, but she could feel it as if it was something born inside her: this was different. He was restless and excited and the emotions rippling through him filled her, her heart beating fast and nearly escaping out of her throat with thunderous jubilation. The Shadow clung to him as he stalked the tunnels, lights flashing reflectively on his rectangular eyes, obscuring them in white shine and turning the grin on his face into an empty-eyed mask.

The journey came to an end in front of a large metal gate, divided in the middle and covered in technical patterns. He commanded it to open, his presence acknowledged by a nearby sensor and causing the oceanic metal to split before him like waves. Darkness awaited him within, but he adjusted his glasses - the agitated and fluttering fingers articulating a nervousness that she immediately mimicked - before crossing the threshold, nothing but the sound of his steps echoing from the emptiness beyond.

Following, she became aware of another occupant already present and waiting in this room. A prisoner. The man's arms and legs were spread-eagle, extended beyond the body by cylindrical, metallic gloves that connected unseen to the ceiling and cylindrical shoes bolted to the floor beneath him. The only light that existed in this universe - once the doors bowed in subservience and closed the Death God in privacy - was a cone fixated directly over the imprisoned man, like an additional cage around him.

She knew who this was. She knew because she felt the knowledge blossom within him at sight of the other, in his smile and in his stance. He was transformed in a way she'd only seen once before and almost immediately, she faded completely from existence, her breath catching in her chest as if he'd erased her completely when he cast her out of mind. She was no longer a part of his environment, the background vanishing so there was nothing but the two and she felt small and weightless, as he was drawn towards the man that Charlotte had become.

Even as the Shadow was abandoned and discarded, she could not stop being a part of him, her body reacting as his did and her eyes seeing what he saw. For him, it was like nothing had changed, arms clasped neatly behind his back as he approached the woman he'd fought and hunted, loved and dreamed about. His memory superimposed itself over the present, the woman's long dirty blonde hair falling in sweat darkened streaks down her back and pointed bangs falling jaggedly over one eye. There wasn't a mark on her.

When he stopped in front of her, the woman's one visible eye opened and placidly regarded him. Eternity stretched on as the two silently stared, a whole world of conversation traded between them from the looks they shared. He smiled with teeth and the Shadow blinked away tears, blinded by the brilliance of it. Not for her - never for her - but special for his captive, articulating greeting and victory without a word.

The woman was unimpressed and casually commented on his new form. He politely commented on hers. The depth and unspoken history weighed heavily on the Shadow where she hovered as a part of the darkness. A part of the nothingness that surrounded the two beings of light, unable to touch either of them wrapped up in this moment.

There was no haughty reliving of recent circumstances. It was unnecessary. The God's triumph was clear in the lines that had been drawn between them, something he'd promised her before her rise to power. He'd foreseen the Fall, his omniscience reaching beyond the vision of the others, but as much pleasure as it brought him, it was bittersweet. The Shadow felt it in his heart and in his voice as he spoke the woman's name, welcoming her home - all at once gleeful and exuberant and sorrowful. And something else throbbing beneath...

The woman asked about the future - "What happens to me now?" she asked. "Are you going to make a case for me? Try and save me?" He told her she should know better than that. And there it was again, shimmering like a glossiness underneath his words, hot and burning like spouting liquid fire as he spoke. The wrath of the God had been invoked. And still he smiled.

There was no forgiveness large enough to save the woman from her betrayal of him. Stepping closer, he removed a knife from the depths of an inner pocket - something the Shadow had given to him upon silent request before arriving. It wasn't important, and he was still wrapped up entirely in Charlotte. But the presence of the knife made the Shadow feel like she had become a part of their drama, desperately clinging to the existence and life he could grant her. She'd given him the knife. She was the knife.

The woman's features did not change, watching him with an unreadable expression. The blade bit into the fabric of the shirt, cutting away the hem below her breasts - the Shadow was ripping her teeth into the sweat moistened fabric - exposing a flat, shapely abdomen. Playfully, he adjusted his hold on the handle and slipped the sliver of metal through flesh, slicing a horizontal line below the dip of her belly. The smile widened as a red fountain was produced, splashing upon the floor beneath the prisoner, but other than a small grunt, the woman's face did not change.

Her world ended once more as the bloody blade was cast carelessly aside, disappearing to become a part of the darkness.

The God's breathing quickened, as did hers, mirroring the excited heat pulsing through him as his hand inserted itself into the long slit he'd created, blood painting his fingers and wrist as he groped at the woman's organs. She could feel the wet warmth as he felt it; the soft pliability of the flesh he let his hand dance through. And her thighs trembled together as his most certainly did, the lines and planes of his body articulating the arousal he shared with the one hanging before him.

Pain finally registered on the woman's face and the Shadow delighted in the shivering grimace that crossed her blood-drawn face. He played for a while, but eventually the slit shortened until his hand disappeared inside her up to the wrist, the skin around him closing tightly, as if the two had become one. The woman shivered in relief as he withdrew his hand, painted and glistening in gore, but two fingers remained within. The wound closed further, trapping the appendages in the same way and he started to pull them out. Before they were completely free, he pushed them slowly inside again, all the way up to his knuckles.

He did not watch what he was doing as his fingers slipped in and out of the woman's body, penetrating her flesh again and again. His eyes were on Charlotte's face and her eye was locked with his, intense and focused on her own doubled reflection, searching for the gaze hidden beneath it. The smile on his face was softer now, but the rage was there, mixed with the arousal and the Shadow's body warmed intimately to watch his hand quicken it's pace.

"You're a sick fuck," the woman said, her voice echoing and absorbed by the shadows, understanding the purpose of the little show he was putting on. There was a feeling of agony and interruption when she heard the shared breathlessness in the woman's voice; not a condemnation, but a twisted praise that almost tore her heart out to hear it. And the laughter that bubbled up from the God was orgasmic in the depth of it's hilarity, threatening to consume her as it reverberated against the darkness. Reverberating through her.

The fingers finally slipped completely free, and the God was closer to the woman now, breathing her air and nuzzling noses, rubbing foreheads. His lungs sucking the life out of her was sucking the life from the Shadow, her breath stopping completely when his lips locked onto Charlotte's. The wound was gone, the blood seeming to start in it's stream from the middle of nowhere, and he stroked his hand over her smooth stomach, painting her more.

The kiss broke and she finally got a breath, her lungs filling as she watched the woman reject him for a second time. But her God would not be denied. Grabbing her chin with his bloody hand, he pushed her lips against his, his body molding to her gentle curves, eager to take her in, eager to fill her up. It was more than the Shadow could bear but she couldn't look away. She was less than nothing. She was the complete absence of substance and it was that woman who took it away, who made the world around him disappear with the smooth rolling of his hips pressing against her.

And then it was over. Her tears and prayers answered as he stepped back a few inches, still holding the woman's face and smearing the gore across her lips before letting go. Then he fled even more, almost stepping out of the circle of light, watching the woman hang suspended in her prison. A feeling of fulfillment warmed her then, the smile on his face articulating more than just a pleasured arousal, but an entire world of domination.

They were silent as they watched each other, just two men alone in this room togehter, regarding one another through the eyes of borrowed bodies. And he brought his hand up and lazily licked his thumb, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it free of mess, before dropping it back down and smiling pleasantly while the taste swirled behind his lips.

It was Charlotte's turn to feel discarded and obliterated as he turned and stalked serenely through the darkness with his hands in his pockets, the Shadow becoming a part of him again, blending with his world and cradling him in her embrace. But even as they left the room together, they weren't alone and she felt the other woman still sharing their space, his contented smile and the twinkling in his eyes keeping her isolated from truly being one with him.

The past returned to her like it always did whenever he thought of her. It felt like she was re-experiencing that moment as he stood with his hand touching her prison, his eyes actually seeing the woman this time, floating infinitely inside. Touching her. Remembering the feel of her skin, the heat of her blood, and the touch of her lips even as he softly recounted the event for the fragile thing standing beside him. He felt this, because she felt this, seeing it in his eyes and body, transporting him again to that prison, and forcing her to disappear all over again.

It made her eventual rebirth to existence all that much sweeter in the end and it was all she could ever ask of him.

"This is Charlotte," he said softly, his voice hushed with an inescapable reverence and sweet fondness. "This is her original body. She was the worst one..."

(All characters are from TOKoR © Tartra and Ten. )