Friday, August 8

Like Death Itself

Michelle makes her first move, but she's far from done. Joshua's lost his way, and for once his starry-eyed lover is guiding him... from beyond the coporeal realm!


Unknown


Like Death Itself

Michelle stood bye silently, watching as Pero picked the homely slut up and took her away to god knows where. She knew where. She followed his overwhelming scent across the city, finding him and the same woman, both of them now half nude, in a private room, a very posh one at that, about to make love. And thuse she decided the girl’s life was a little pittance for Pero’s warning.
She battered the girl, and Pero noticed her hesitancy as she slipped out of the booty shorts. She chomped the soul up without a single explanation, smiling and slipping fully into the body. Used indeed, she could feel the whole inner workings of this woman from her pains in the kidneys to the headache waiting to the start. But pain meant little to nothing for a succubus.
Pero slid up beside her in the large satin and velvet draped floor, twining an arm around her legs and bidding her to lay down now, for it was so luxuriously soft down there. Something was also a lot more exotic, exuberant and alluring to him about Shezzebel tonight. Her dirty blond hair was suddenly a bit more soft and longer, shimmering in the candle glow, as was her skin, finally taking on a healthy glow. He liked his women pale, and though she was the color of the moon’s heavenly face, she seemed to glow like it was a deathly tan.
And it was. Her flesh was already hot and inviting, her touches more than exciting him tonight. As she moved to straddle him, guiding him onto his back, he didn’t protest, her kisses dulling his senses as she assumed the body she had been born with. Pero would, no doubt, recognize her. Black hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at him as he sobered, and a stronger than was natural hand clamped over his throat.
“A man watched by Countess of Black would do well to watch his back,” she growled in a vicious, demonic tongue. Pero bit back a threat as she dug hideous white cat’s claws into his throat, his vision shifting into the black realm where her etheral form shown. Her skin was outlined by a steaming hue of blue and green, the deeps of her slitted pupils the deepest black as was her skin, around it the bloodiest hues fo mauve and red.
She grinned, revealing row after row of sharp teeth and a long, rasping forked tongue. “You touch Joshua, you consider yourself a dead man, Perotino Valliano.”

Unknown


Joshua awoke huffing and puffing in the dark room. Gagged so that he might not scream, bound and blindfolded, stuffed into a box to keep him standing. Torture wasn’t one of Pero’s better skills, but Pero’s ‘pet’ Jenzen would break his fingers one by one. The thought sent shivers up his spine, but suddenly he felt comforted. Little did her know that Pero was dressed and scared out of his ever-living in the next room over, looking again and again to the body that dissected itself atop him, holding him down to let the blood run over him.
But he did hear the last, wailing screech. It was that of something undead, hideous and devilish, drawing on the terror of the man. He thought it was just another dead whore Pero was beating for leaving him unsated. He felt a second, colder, shiver run up his spine inside that tiny, smelly box. He would sleep no more tonight.

Unknown


Michelle watched them as she chuckled and stepped through the wall, leaving not a bit of evidence to get anyone in trouble. She had nothing against Pero, so long as the man didn’t lift a hair off of her precious Joshua’s head. Not one. Or she castrate Pero for the hell of it.
She snickered again, tinkering with the phone. If the guards weren’t superstitious, now they were when it rang up the police. Knowing this phone’s trace personally, the officers looked to each other over the office desk and their faces blanched. Gang wars were not uncommon, and if someone had claimed a coup on Pero, this would be the signal. Michelle had seen that in Pero’s greatest fears, but not before she’d stoled his seed. It didn’t matter if they made love, she had ways, and now… well, now she’d bring up a half-demon to her side to assist her before she killed it to obliterate a second, more devious crime scene.
And perhaps several more until Joshua was a free man. She listened to the horrified gasps as she walked through the three guards in turn, chanting a spell to make their scents more appealing to her, to remind the hungry succubus that she had more work to do when the night was over. Tonight, she had fasted, tomorrow she would assume the role of a vicious hunter once more.

Unknown


All of the sudden, Richard and Joshua were reunited, in a bright flourescent-lit room with a window to a darker room. They were on bed, the whole of the room a starched, cleanly white. Richard made to move to stretch or to clean himself up, a six day beard appearring over his sunken cheeks. He felt his stomach rumble and looked around, but to no avail.
Pero, pacing behind the glass, talked to Barty and Neloman who sat watching and monitoring the two captives.
“See that the Richard one is taken out back and…” he began but then he thought back to Michelle’s ominous threat. “Let him go.”
Barty and Neloman looked too him, the shorter and more plump Neloman dropping his prized catch, a chocolate glazed donut. “What?!” they shrieked in unison.
Pero backhanded them both and swore up and down, until Barty walked to the door and called for Richard. “Just you.”
Joshua growled and stood in front of him, giving Richard a knowing look. He knew Pero disposed of the ‘worthless ones’ without mercy.
“No, Pero wants him freed.” Barty said, hurrying them on as he nervously watched the furious Pero and a cursing Neloman look to him at the hesitation. “We’ll give him a gun… and two bullets… a cell phone and a car too.”
Pero nodded and waved a hand. None of it matter, he had fleets of cars, boxes of guns and cell phones, a whole treasury of bullets and magazines. One or two wouldn’t make a difference.
Richard pushed Joshua aside and nodded, whispering something discreetly as he passed. “They need a sniffa fer yer gal.”
Joshua stifled the smile easily, knowing that she had outwitted that bastard again. Yet again, she had managed to disappear probably and this patter had them all worried, for what force might she have rallied in the last six days? And before then, even, a whole week or two now. Joshua did well to bite back a snapping comment at Pero while the door was open.
As was promised, Richard was given a gun with two bullets, a car and a phone and he sped away from Pero’s private island compound like the Southern breezes, heading for the border. If he got down to Temecula, he’d be safe, for in Temecula was a nuetral zone and Pero would have to stretch to worthless lengths to get just one man. Joshua and Michelle were king and queen of the better part of the city, championing the fight ti throw Pero off the city’s back for eight years now.
As soon as Richard was out of sight, Pero threw a great fit and in that time, he ordered Joshua released as well. Joshua headed north, without box or money, nor gun or phone, headed to hell knew where. Anywhere. Then he got pulled voer for speeding, on purpose. He’d be safest in the police compounds, and there he was in two hours.

Unknown


Michelle saw the opportune moment and couldn’t skip it. Coming to a wanton call, she appeared before Joshua in a half-clad body, curling up in his arms and sighing.
“Joshua, I’ve nto much time to explain. I’m not able to be your wife and I’ve lost the child, to pay in for the gift my elderly uncle gave me… oh woe! This cursed gift… but you are safe, you will live…” she whispered. Joshua took it all in stride, kissing her and gasping prayers for her safe return. Or so he believed.
“This is a dream, I’ve not much longer. I’m safe, don’t look for me, and Pero will soon be… taken care of.” Michelle managed before her body fade. “I love you.” She squealed as her lack of energy return her to a deep lethargy in the Black, with dawn showing through the window. Joshua fell forward and cursed as her body slipped from his hands. This delusion left him with more questions than answer, though, for he now wondered what dark cold had befalled her to make her skin and voice so… cold.
Like Death itself.

Deathwish

Ah yes. It does seem like each of them has a deathwish of their own, but whose will be heard first?


Unknown



Deathwish


Joshua pulled the abused cellphone from his pocket, looking at the dull screen and then at the locked door of his motel room. It had been a whole two weeks since Michelle had left him, and he was far from just beginning to worry about the girl. He was hysterical now, and Richard was barely able to keep him in the room. Richard, his roomy and as of late, his enemy, had been watching Joshua grow restless when she didn’t turn up.
Neither of them knew that for her to come anywhere near them now would be a death sentence. Quietly she had slipped from bedside to bedside many, many nights now, possessing the local whores off the streets in order to sip from the souls of the thugs and streetlife, and the occasional delicacies the richer men provided. Steengthening herself to fight Pero.
No, Joshua was convinced that Pero had kidnapped her off the street and it was his fault for dragging her into this war. The papers were still stashed with Richard in the thick wooden box. Incriminating papers that would get Pero, the crime lord of Los Angeles, locked away. For good this time.
Quickly he glanced around, noting that Richard had gone out for a smoke by the pool. He dialed the number to Pero’s own bedside phone and damn the man if he was busy fucking some whore. He needed to know where his girl was and now.
The dial tone clicked and buzzed until Pero picked up. “It’s traced, congrats you dumb fucking deadman!” he growled, slamming down the phone. Joshua hung it up and went for the door, dropping it as he slammed his fist on the door.
“Richard! Come now, fuck… Richard?!” he roared, leaning back against the wall and running a hand back through his hair. Pero didn’t have her or he would have tormented Joshua. Pero had the cops, waiting for this. Pero was in on whatever it was. Richard busted in the door, waving his arms and nearly slamming the knob of the door into Joshua’s gut in his rush.
“Whoa, whoa, who’s dyin’, what the feck is goin’ on Josh?” he groaned, looking over to him, his unusual accent thicker as he became more frustrated. “Ye’re gonna wake the fucken’ Devil o’ of these days!”
Joshua pushed him back and closed the door, his breathing hectic as he pointed to the phone, money and the infamous box. “Gather our shit up, we need to leave – tonight- because Pero traced my call…” he gasped, makign Richard’s lips go wide, the cigarette dropping onto the blankets.
“Fuck!” Richard said sharply, “You din’… yes you did. Josh ye stupid boy! You call’t Pero, you dumbass and now he’s on us!” he said, jumping off the bed as Joshua noded. Within five minutes they had everything packed in the car, the key was taped to the back of the locked door as they sped out of the parking lot.
Richard kept glancing over to Joshua, the car’s windows up as they took the best lit streets. “Was it worf it, eh Josh?” he asked softly.
Josh sobbed and hld his temples. “He doesn’t have her.” He whispered, shaking his head. “Michelle’s in the gutter somewhere and it’s all my god damn fault.”
Richard tapped the brakes as his eyes shot over to Joshua, making the bus behind them screech on its brakes and honk.
“It was then.” He gently answered, turning them off to a brightly lit carpark. “So ye knew yer sweet’art is safe.”
Joshua groaned and slammed a fist into his thigh, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. “But Pero’s flushed us out again. And he can track the phone, but how … he knew we were in that room. Cell phones can’t be tracked like landlines…” he blankly deliberated, relaxing. “He knew all along. And he knew Michelle was gone, knew that we wouldn’t leave until we had her… and he was bluffing that he had her to bring us in.”
Richard looked over and grinned. “Ah, then thanks to ye, fer getting’ us outta harms way. And thanks to yer smartass girl. Make sure I getta thank her someday and apologize for calling her a whore.” He said, chuckling. Joshua, for once, chuckled with him, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to fade the slightest bit.

Unknown


Michelle wiped her lips with the corner of a blanket before leaving the bedside, bumping a candle to light the place on fire. As she willed the cloth into being with her strong mind, a white gown covered her corporeal body until it faded into that of a ghost with long, black tendrils for wings. She drifted up through the roof and out to the night sky, spreading the curled tendrils and soaring back towards her nest.
As she touched down on the landing, she sighed. She hadn’t counted the amount of time had passed since she had been transformed, but she was almost strong enough to kill Pero and to contact Joshua. Killing the deepest pit of courrption in the city would deeply taint her, and make her hungers vicious. After all, that’s what kept her going, feasting on the evil, transmuting chaos and corruption to order and goodliness.
Michelle smiled softly as she slipped into her private room, away from the two servant maids left to her by Camangelo. She need privacy to think about this. She had to know, when and where, she could time it all out to make it easier to kill the man. How complicated it seemed for only one body, but well worth it.

Unknown


Pero walked out from behind one of the brightly lit cement pillars clapping and smilign under the black hood. “Good job, nice show.” He grimly commented. He had, indeed, been tracking Joshua and Richard from the hospital. He had, however, lost tabs on Michelle when she seemingly vanished from the face of the earth.
Richard turned pale, and Joshua stiffened as more thugs closed on the car, slashing the tires and plugging the exhaust. They both exited the car, but then a cold wind whipped up. Something was amiss about Pero, normally the cocky man would walk anywhere without fear. Why was he now hiding his face?
Lilithia watched, still planning his demise. She would not let him hurt Joshua, but until she could make her move she could not interfere. She phased through the car, taking the box and the money. Pero would gain nothing.
She knew they would feel her, but as she locked their guns up with the pangs of her deepest chaos, she turned and stepped through the Blackdoor with confidence. No gain, no murders.
Joshua and Pero looked around but then Pero threw bck the hood. “Bind and gag them, search the car then mar and burn the damn thing.” He said, turning. No elborate murder schemes tonight, both Richard and Joshua noticed. Pero was uncomfortable in his own city.

Unknown


Later that night, Pero picked up his phone, calling the cellphone that had been left near the bunred out shell of Richard’s car. He left a terrifying message, at least terrifying to the normal populace.
“If you don’t bring me the box, he dies at midnight.” He said, calm and coolly. Surely she’d be smart enough. But however she had gotten the box in a hand off had escaped him. He’d seen everything, and there were no fake copies of that box. He was afraid, afraid because for once he didn’t hold the better hand of cards at his own table.

Unknown


Michelle looked on in concern as the phone rang. She had revisited the scene to ensure her slight intervention had done nothing, and indeed, it hadn’t. She listened to the ominous message and laughed. Pero couldn’t kill a man wo had the protection of the single most powerful demoness aside from Lucifer’s own minions.
She laughed all the louder as she picked up the phone and crushed it in a single hand, though anyone watching would have thought that it imploded of its own accord.
“A man so hated by the Countess of Black would do well to watch his back.” She whispered cryptically., dropping the phone, or what was left after it had been ground into sand. Yes, soon she would be able to turn the tables and knock every single thug from the face of the earth in her city.

The Change

Dun dun dunnn! Michelle leaves Joshua in the darkness... literally, as she is taken away to pass the torch of her family's secretive - and utterly chaotic - lore-filled past heritage. The heritage of the incubus Camangelo of Black.

Unknown


The Change


Joshua glanced at Michelle as they walked out of the hospital hand in hand a week after the shooting. They had spent the last few nights deliberating what they would do after they left, and finally she convinced him to let her split up from his side to go with her inner ‘gut’. Joshua had refused and avoided it, but she had won him over, and he knew she was right. Pero wasn’t after her, Pero was after him and if he wasn’t with her, all the better.
Joshua glanced over at her and sighed. “So when will I see you again?” he asked, squeezing her hand and avoiding her startling eyes as they strode down the street. Michelle stopped, leadign him aside into a dark alley.
“Soon.” Is all her heard as s great darkness dropped over them, wisping her away before his eyes. He felt his heart drop as her warmth left him, the darkness brooding. On instinct, he stumbled backwards, and then the sunlight was back in full. Strange. This wasn’t the street he’d been on before. He was in the better side of the city now, somewhere Pero’s rein had never leeched out to. Somewhere he could wait out the next few nights in peace. Until Pero found him and sent his thug-buddies to retrieve him.

Unknown


Michelle stepped through the Darkdoor, something she had only learned about recently in her dreams where the ‘Angel of Death’ himself had visited her. How could this portly elderly man be Death? She wondered, barely able to get out of his chair, quiet like the spring breeze. Or was it a fake weakness he used to lure victims in, victims deserving of their fate?
With a raspy voice, he waved his hand to bring her closer, not by any will of her own, foecing her to kneel beside the chair. “You have been chosen, by blood and blood before you,” he grated, making her look at him, his blank, listless eyes sending chills up her spine. “You are the Countess… of the Other side.” He explained.
She knew the family lore. Somewhere along the line, where fantasy and reality blurred the lines and spilled into one another, they had claimed the heritage of a single black angel, Camangelo. He was never referenced in other lore. She would be the last living relative, and now havign found her great uncle, though she did not know how or why, she’d come full circle and would become the second countess of the Black.
“Michelle, what do you know about Camangelo?” he asked, turning away from her.
“He… was a fairytale. It’s family lore, uncle, you should know.” She said, in little more than a whisper. The older man smiled.
“He was the most powerful angel of black, the patriarch of your – our- family, an incubus of great power. I am Camangelo.” He gritted, turning to her with a wide, wicked smile. “And I am nearing the end of my three century life. I have chosen you to carry on the greatest legacy.”
Michelle nearly dropped cold. Had it only been a fairytale? She had to believe the blackness in his eyes. “Cam-Camangelo? I am… I am to be…” she stuttered.
Camangelo nodded and stood, his body shivering violently. “Soon. Tonight, I believe. Come, come… time to pass the torch.” He said, his smile dimming. “I only regret that I have not the will to force you to the deed, it is your choice to take this gift.”
He explained, offering his hand to her. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t begin to comprehend this. She could refuse, and go back to a normal life but no, it was much too late for that. But what did this all mean? Oh, too little time, too many paths were there for her.
“What would… to become Countess of Black, what would be asked of me?” she asked in a soft tone. Camangelo’s smile expired.
“The child. Succubi cannot have children in the Black, only after your two-hundreth year may you choose a successor. You may not marry. You will not age until your three-hundred and eighty-eight year of life as Countess. You may not show yourself to goodly folk except to tell of serious impending doom, or to join past lovers. Daytime is forbidden to you, and your body will become ethereal.”
Michelle didn’t even feel the tears and the lump in her throat as she took her hand and determinedly nodded. She knew the powers of succubi were a great gift, and she knew that with them she might protect Joshua. But that he would never live to see her choose the successor.

Unknown


That night, as Camangelo lay in the bed next to her, she felt the changes begin. His body turned to ashes and bones next to her, but she couldn’t notice through the agony. She groaned as she felt the aches in her bones and her flesh’s tingling as they became less than touchable. Soon, she could see that, through her tears, she couldn’t see herself showing up on the pool of water beside the bed. Until she willed herself to
As a scantilly clad maiden. She was no different, but her beauty had an exotic allure now. Even women would be sorely tempted by her in the many years to come.
Michelle turned to what was left of Camangelo’s body, whispering her thanks and smirking. Pero always had a soft spot for beautiful women, what might he do if his arch enemy’s wife to behold showed up nude at his bedside?

Thursday, August 7

Bodies and Minds - Part Two

Another update, the second part of Bodies and Minds. (Betcha didn't see that coming!) I am going to try my hardest to keep this story alive, if it takes pins and needles to do it. Note the new divider, chapters are going to be going through one or more areas at a time. I didn't have much choice on dividers, sadly. (If I make my own, I'll edit them in ASAP...)


Unknown


Malifain felt odd as he handled the two scimitars he’d been instructed to wield for now. Poison, in his left hand, glowed and angry green and gold, while Paradise hummed with a light silver and blue highlights.
“Now, show me what you know, as you please.” Lilithia silently bade him, watching and making noises as he tried his damndest to make use of them. The blade caught, steel ground together and with a clang, both of the scimitars hit the dirt five feet away. Malifain swore and tromped over to pick them up, pausing as Lilithia took control of his body. He felt the natural numbness as his nerves began to heed her call, being sectioned off into his own mind.
“Like this,” She said aloud, her voice as clear as the sunshine outside in the dirt arena. “Not so fast at first.” Lilithia instructed him, weaving the scimitars after having picked them up. “Use this one,” she said, lifting Poison to act out an attack. “To attack, the other,” she murmured, feigning and making a strong parry with Paradise. “To parry.”
Again, the numbness as she back away, letting him flow back into the body. He shivered, following her movements.
“Good.” She whispered, tinkering with her mind to let him see he fighting rituals, which she had been known to join with Drizzt in the early summer mornings. Left, over that stump, up, hack-hacking away at the dead stump. As he followed her guidance, soon the wood chips were fine and smooth, the scimitars answering his every call.
But he was not expecting her next step, as she reached out with her psionic powers and excited the wood of the stump.
“Retreat!” she briskly reminded him as the wood heated and splintered in his face, just as he rolled off to the side. Chuckling as she watched him pull bits of burning bark out of his long black ponytail, she reminded him not to stop moving the blades. “You’d be a dead elf.” She hissed.
“That’s enough fo today.” Cadderly chimed, smiling as he watched Malifain. The scimitars snapped back into their sheaths as Malifain returned the greeting with a smile of his own.
“Hello Cadderly.” Lilithia whispered through all three of their thoughts. Cadderly nodded and replied, though Malfain couldn’t hear it.
“Progress?” he questioned, his raised brow completeing the punctuation. She replied, making him smile, though Malifainknew better than to think she was making jokes at his horrible fight skills.
“Well, I see that you’re doing well,” Cadderly said, looking to Malifain and chuckling. “We’ve received a runner set by Drizzt.”
Both Malifain and Lilithia connected the dots, their shared heart stopping briefly. Cadderly smiled as Malifain’s smile almost wilted.
Cadderly shook his head. “No, good news. Drizzt and Catti-Brie have met and are close to getting the cure for her.”
They both heaved a sigh together, Lilithia and Malifain, both of them having become as one almost in their body. It would soon be time for them to chase Solanil down. As Cadderly departed, leaving them to think, Lilithia asked Malifain the key question.
“Will they make it back soon enough?” She whispered, her tone blank of sarcasm, anger or pride. Malifain shook his head, reaching with a hand to wipe the bead of sweat off his brow. They could only pray that he would make it back before her body expired, trapping her in Malifain’s thoughts.


Unknown


Drizzt reigned in his tall black stallion, looking back over his shoulder to where Catti-Brie and her spotted white gelding were sinking into the mire. Somewhere far to the east a thunder bolt sounded, reminding them of the shortly-passed thunder storm. Catti-Brie groaned as she slid out of the soaked saddle to lead her horse up to Drizzt, handing the reins to him as she got up behind him. He handed her back the reins as he walked the stallion up the dimly moonlit trail ahead of them.
“Dawn will come soon.” He assured her, pushing back the soggy cowl of his cloak to look up into the stars, then farther ahead. When all he heard in return was a sigh, he glanced back at her. Shaking her head, Catti-Brie frowned.
“Why did ye never tell me?” she whispered, folding her arms and wobbling as the stallion’s hoof slipped in the muck. “Ye had a daughter and now she’s about to die and ye never telled me.”
Drizzt’s shoulders slumped as he took a deep breath. “I did not even know I had a child, until I saw her… fighting. She’s much like Zaknafein.” He told her, his tone soft and reminiscent of better times past. “It’s a shame he never met her.”
“And a shame I might not either!” she said, so suddenly it made the stallion flinch. Drizzt stopped the horse and turned to her.
“She adores you, Catti-Brie. Lilithia is searching for her hero, as I found in my father, and perhaps… perhaps she needs a hero in you.” He said, his curious smile infecting her and making her grin.
“Oh no ye’re not! Ye can’t-“ she was about to protest that he obviously wanted Catti-Brie to be as her sister.
“Not for an old friend?” Drizzt prodded, signalling the horse on and looking ahead. He smiled all the wider as Catti-Brie laughed.
“Okay, ye want me to foster yer little girl because she’s not a daddy’s girl.” She said, waving away what might have been a completely different proposition. Drizzt shrugged.
“I cannot be the mother she never had.” He grimly reminded Catti-Brie. He had slain her mother some years ago, when Lilithia was barely a toddler. She had been raised for the greater part of her life by Jarlaxle and his band of criminals, raised into the height of sorcery when they had been forced to return her to her grandmother, Matron Baenre.
Catti-Brie winced. “I will. For her.” She conceded, patting him gently on the shoulder. He smiled again, glancing back to her.
“You will, no doubt, find in her the sister you yourself never had.” He pointed out. “Two more miles and then we let the horses rest while we dry off.”

Monday, August 4

Bodies and Minds

WOO! Another Lilithia update, although it's a bit thick and bleh... and short too, it's something. We'll visit back to Drizzt and Catti-Brie later on, and then find out how much fun Malifain and Lilithia are having just learning to fight as one...


Unknown


Bodies and Minds


Malifain sat near Lilithia, looking to Celaine in question. They had been discussing a body-switch, to allow Lilithia to go and find Solani as Drizzt searched for the herbs to save her body. Without a doubt, Lilithia had agreed.
“Let me, Malifain.” She fought stubbornly, coughing black ooze up onto her lips. Malifain shook his head again, frustrated with her.
“And what of your body, and mine, if you are killed?” he asked, looking from her to Celaine. Celaine shook her head and shrugged, not able to explain before Lilithia cut in again.
“If I die, your body will again switch with mine. There is another way, though the magical taxation might kill a lesser mage.” Lilithia dared mention, sighing. “Cadderly can help. Summon Cadderly magically, he can transfer my conscious into Malifain’s and my body will become moot.” She rasped, turning over to sleep. Malifain shook his head again, questioning this wisdom as he stood, tucking the drow elfess in as she slumbered. He and Celaine turned and left the cottage after garnering the supplies they would need to call for Cadderly.
“I can’t let her do this,” he hissed, frowning with Lilithia’s ultimatum squarely on his shoulders. “Her father would be angered if he came back to find a living dead body.”
Celaine only nodded, wanting to be done with her task.
“I can’t do this alone.” She stiffly reminded him, his eyes glazing over as he begasn to think of loopholes on the grounds why Lilithia couldn’t borrow his body. He found nothing, and then he saw, as Lilithia intruded upon him, that she meant not only to borrow his body, she was going to use it as her own!
“Well Lolth be damned and Mielikki be proud…” he muttered as she began to impart visions of her previous feats. He chuckled at her prowess s she slipped away again, perhaps taking off that amulet to better sleep. Or perhaps silently probing his thoughts.
Are you ever concerned she’ll see something in there she does nto like, Malifain?” Celaine asked, putting the finishin touches on the inter-planar gate as he shook his head.
“Merely she’ll find something she likes too much.” He lamented, sighing. Celaine smiled, chanting softly and soon, before them, the puddle of silver that was the inter-planar gate splashed forth, an no doubt, another one in Cadderly’s private chambers. Celaine looked to Malifain, and for neither had seen cadderly, Malifain would speak for Lilithia.
“Cadderly, sir, we have with us a friend of your friend. Drizzt Do’Urden’s daughter has fallen ill and he is now out on the path to get her a cure, but we need use of her body. She is conscious, but is too weak to help us hunt the would-be murderer down.” He explained, his face not hiding the concerns. Cadderly nodded and gestured to the pool.
“Is it thick enough to walk through?” he asked, looking to the woman beside Malifain.
“Oh, pardon, I am Celaine and this is Malifain Sachereil and yes, it should be stable.” Celaine quickly spurted, stepping back and trying to develop her concentration. Gate-stepping was a tricky task, and exhausting too. Cadderly stepped through, and the puddle dried up suddenly, cutting off a sliver of his pant leg.
“Oops.” Celaine whispered, blushing and apologising. Cadderly waved off the apologies, turning directly to Malifain.
“I have waited for so long to hear from the ranger again, and his is the daughter I am seeing?” he asked with a courteous smile. Malifain nodded and showed the priest in, sitting beside the bed as he talked quietly with the ailing elfess. Soon, both had nodded their agreement, Lilithia providing the whereabouts of all her weapons, and then her magical items as well. Cadderly prepared the herbs right there in the room, for Malifain and Celaine to watch. Cadderly rolled Lilithia over, clasping her hand with Malifain’s as he sat beside the bed on a wood chair, then tying them together with spider’s silk. He motioned Celaine over, and Cadderly guiding her, began the chant that would permit Lilithia to fully take over Malifain’s body. After fifteen minutes, they left the room, so the other two could discuss privately their goals. Lilithia’s body breathed slower now, coughing less and never moving. But Malifain jerked as Lilithia spread her being into the corners of his mind. She cursed him silently, for they only heard each other’s thoughts, nothing more, and he had not lowered one wall of anger to let her see what lay beneath it.
“Malifain, for the sake of the gods…” she asked, pressing again. It was givign him a headache, but if it did, so be it. She didn’t need to know his fears.
“N… no…” he grunted, shifting on the floor. Lilithia was too wise, too impatient for such a fight, and he fought her smile as she consciously took over his nerves, imparting feelings on his body the way she had learned in Menzoberranzan.
He felt light like a feather, all his body displaced of time and cares. He was warm, so warm he wanted to take off his clothing, and so he did at her bidding. And then, a trick of the mind, Lilithia’s bare body appearred before him, encircling his and teasing it with kisses across his jaw, but nothing more.
“Malifain, Malfain…” she chided in mental whispers, “Now come, come to my bed my sweet rose.”
Malifain obeyed. Without knowing it, he remembered ending up on the bed, Lilithia’s visual thoughts of her body entwined around his, above his. As her lips met his, the sensation was more than real, but as they made love, something went terribly wrong.
To him at least.
At last, she slipped past the wall, lowered by his lust and excitement, and now she looked upon those thoughts as he thrashed in the bed. Her visual thoughts of her own body had dissapated, he’d realized, right as she bored through. He began to growl as she sauntered into that all-private grouping of thoughts.
“You… you fiend…” he growled, only making her force him still with magical chants. She could feel the immense, overwhelming hatred, the jealousy and the grief at Solanil injuring her. So her assumptions were right, he observed, as she let him see her thoughts more clearly in the clouded interior of his mind. She backed away, pushing her own hatred and jealousy of Celaine into that small corner and then she did something purely miraculous.
She obliterated all that hatred.
“Now,” she whispered, releasing his body and willing him to dress, “Trust me as you would trust yourself, Malifain, for if we are not working and thinking as one, we will die… as one.”
Malifain nodded, though he knew she was thought-speaking to him. As he strapped on her belt of weapons, along with her amulet and her timeless leather wrist bracers, he smiled, feeling weightless without the guilt and the hate. Cadderly and Celaine had re-entered to check on them, and they saw the twinkle of golden and violet behind Malifain’s blue eyes. But silently, Lilithia reminded Malifain this was only the beginning.