Paradigm [Laszlo]

[Abalia]

Any time he touched her was pleasant. The stroking of her cheek made her feel as foolish as a kitten, with the desire to nuzzle into that palm and purr her pleasure. She didn't, though. She simply knelt where she was and kept wide eyes fixed upon his face, even as he spoke so intimately to her. She tried to understand, and though she couldn't possibly fathom the nuances of the struggle of his race, she could at least empathize with it. She wanted to crawl into his lap and pull his head to her chest. To stroke his dark hair and hum the soft songs she would sing to Roxanne on the dark nights they had shared. The distraction of his lips on hers was most welcome, chasing away that desire to comfort. His words were sweet like honey, and she could almost feel the intent of those fingers as they traced down her throat, to nudge at the fabric of her collar. He seemed to possess the ability to sway her emotions with incredible rapidity, and the pleasure that sliced through her at such a simple touch stole her breath. His question forced her to find it, however, and the smile she fixed him with was easy and crooked. "Rumors aren't always true," she deflected. Leaning up on her knees brought her much closer to him, so that her small hands could splay against his bare chest. Curious fingertips stroked small, idle circles where they rest. She could feel his breath against her cheek, flushed as it was with the headiness of his proximity. She brushed her lips against the line of his jaw in a kiss so light it was scarcely felt, and then leaned up so that she could murmur directly into his ear. "I know that you can be dangerous, Laszlo. Deadly." Pearly whites nipped lightly at the lobe of his ear, and then she leaned back again, so that her gaze could meet his. She reached, without looking, to grasp one of his hands, which she brought up towards her face. "But you don't have to be." She directed his hand upwards, until she could catch one of those dangerous claws between her lips. She kissed it, first, swirling the delicate pink of her tongue about it's circumference without ever breaking his gaze. She allowed his hand to fall, then, the midnight black that crowned his finger tugging on the full pout of her lower lip until the flesh gave way and tore beneath his sharp touch. A thin line of blood quickly welled in the shallow cut he had made. She gave a little gasp at the first bite of pain, but the too pleased smile that followed suggested that it had been entirely for his benefit. Her tongue flickered out to draw that claret into her mouth, and she directed those powerful fingers to the line of her throat, where she released his wrist altogether. To claim that she didn't trust him, she certainly behaved otherwise. "I know that accidents are almost inevitable," she continued, splaying her hands against his thighs. "I know that I don't mind them." Abalia leaned forward to press her lips, with the hint of blood upon them, to his own. The tangling of their tongues was tinged with the taste of copper, bitter and familiar, until she pulled away. She rest her forehead against his, then, and spoke with eyes closed. "I know that you have to be careful, to love a Symenestra," she said, using a euphemism that might have hit too close to home for him. "I know that sometimes, it's worth it."

[Laszlo]

Laszlo's mouth had gone dry. As she pulled away, he licked the taste of her blood from his bottom lip, some primal part of him finding the flavor almost appetizing—a realization which he found nauseating. The rest of his body was tingling, from the way her form had brushed so gently against his, the cold saliva left on his ear, the weight of her hands on his thighs. If her intent had been to distract his troubled mind from the dead Lethborn and his own worries, she'd done it. At this point he couldn't even remember the other woman's name. And his slender, wickedly clawed hand was still around her neck. It had remained there, relishing the prize she had given him. Laszlo remembered, several nights ago, gazing down at her fragile little neck and noting how thin and delicate it looked. And it was delicate. Her warm skin was unbelievably soft under his fingertips, and her pulse drummed a modest rhythm into his palm. To love a Symenestra, she had said. So she knew? She knew the risks? What sort of woman was this, chasing after her own death and leaving herself open to the wiles of something that would kill her for its own gain? Perhaps it wasn't that simple. She was clever, maybe cleverer than even she realized. Perhaps she wasn't as defenseless as she let on. Never did it occur to him that she might have learned through experience. There was no room in Laszlo's mind right now for anyone else to exist. All he knew was himself, and the woman in his bedroom. "Abby…" The claw around her neck squeezed a little, just to test her reaction. The pad of his thumb gently stroked her skin, just for a moment, until it too had to apply pressure. He lifted his head a little, just to move his forehead against hers. Another hand seemed to appear from nowhere, laying itself upon one of her upper arms. "Goddess, look at you. You're so beautiful, and so damn strange." Without warning the hand on her arm tightened in tandem with his grip on her tiny little neck. He pulled her to the side, yanking her from the floor and lying her back onto the mattress of his low-lying bed. Her head was just short of his pillow, but he held her fast by her throat. Belatedly he noticed that the tip of his thumbnail had drawn blood from the underside of her jaw, but quickly recalled that she probably didn't mind. Laszlo bore down over her, his larger body shadowing her own as some of his weight pressed against her. One of his knees found itself between her thighs, while a more obvious indication of his desire made itself known against the curve of her waist. "I like that so much about you," he whispered to her cheek, a hot gust of breath brushing down and past her ear. Then his hand loosened, reluctantly, as he let his weight lean more to the side of her, hoisted on one elbow. His fingers at her throat became more of a light caress, utilizing both the pads of his fingers and the catching tips of his nails. "But… I can't. Not tonight."

[Abalia]

Finding herself suddenly on her back, on his bed, with the delicious weight of his frame pressed into her was more than a little satisfying. Abalia made a pleased little noise, even as the place where his nail had punctured her skin burned uncomfortably. He was beautiful. More than that, hovering above her so, with dark hair she couldn't keep her fingers out of and those eyes that haunted her. He was breathtaking. Realizing that she was about to get what she wanted, too, a culmination to this desire that had been forced to simmer and build for days upon days, only made it all the better. His voice, languid and enchanting, was weaving words for her, adding to the beauty of the moment. Until they weren't. Until they were saying the wrong things and that lithe body of his was skirting to the side. Abby blinked up at him a few times in disbelief, and then reached one hand up to curl about the nape of his neck with a full pout on rosy lips. "What? This isn't teasing anymore, Laz. It isn't funny. I want you." I need you. When her words alone did little to sway him, she groused unhappily and pushed up to her own elbow. She fixed him with a most serious glower, which seemed to fail too. In complete astonishment that he would bring her here for a whole lot of nothing, Abalia suddenly pressed small hands to his chest and rocked him onto his back. She sat up quickly and straddled his waist, finding a perch in just the right place. "Mmm. You obviously can," she said in a teasing voice. She was a complete paradox, as she sat aside his waist, rocking her slim hips so subtly it might not be visible in the silvery moonlight. The sensation of friction between them, however, could hardly be ignored. Her hair was all mussed up from his fingers in it, and her lip still oozed a crimson stain. Fresh blood was flowing down the column of her throat, over the dip of her clavicle and downwards still, to disappear over the milky white of the swell of her breasts. Abalia couldn't help but look positively innocent, youthful, naive. But as her small hands began to dance upwards along his chest, careful of his wound, she was so coquettish and sensually demanding that it hardly seemed possible. "So why won't you, Laz?" With her question stated, Abalia reached down to her own waist and gripped the hem of her shirt. Easily enough it was tugged up and discarded. For a moment she sat before him, glorying in moonlight and his heated gaze upon her bare skin, before she dropped her body to hover over his. The contact against such sensitive flesh made her moan, albeit softly, and her lips went to his own chest. Rosebud lips parted and, eagerly, she began to taste him.

[Laszlo]

I want you. Abalia's breathy plea sent spikes of pleasure down the length of his body, now imprisoned under the girl's modest weight. His old mattress had never felt so comfortable as he stared up at her, perched like a proud bird upon its prey. The balance between them had shifted again as she forcefully regained the upper hand, which Laszlo surrendered without any struggle. Then she started moving. Laszlo's crystalline violet eyes went wide just before he closed them, lying his head back in his pillow and uttering a sharp breath. "Don't…" he whispered as his hands slid up the Abalia's thighs and clawed fingers captured either side of Abalia's exposed waist. Though he tried to still her, the effort was in vain and she continued regardless. His nails curled into his skin as he became increasingly, maddeningly uncomfortable in the best way. "I can't—" His voice escaped him as Abalia's soft lips pressed to his chest, leaving his skin tingling wherever she touched it. All he could do was sigh happily as his fingers pulled themselves across her dark hair. She was so expertly gentle in all the right ways, and if Laszlo were a little less sober, he might toss his inhibitions to the wind and take this woman exactly like she wanted. There was more at stake though, and Laszlo couldn't afford to lose himself. The Ethaefal squirmed, and his hips unexpectedly bucked upward. Still he was at a loss for an explanation. Could Abalia not piece it together? Laszlo couldn't, because this was the moment when he most wanted to. Symenestra reproduction was tricky, and few other races were as aware of natural bodily cycles as they were. Laszlo was at the prime of his fertility now, and so was she. He wasn't sure why he knew, it could have been a scent or the way she looked, it was difficult to be certain, but if he copulated with her now, he would kill her. Not now, but in the course of three seasons. There were questions. Abalia knew about this, didn’t she? Would Laszlo, being what he was, father a Symenestra or another Ethaefal? Could he even create a child? There were questions that should have been asked or at least thought about, but Laszlo could hardly think of them now. "I can't… nrh… I won't go that far with you, and my reasons are my own." That should suffice. They could talk about it later. "That doesn't mean I'll leave you wanting, Abalia." His nails trailed her back and found the hem of fabric at her waistline. Without another moment's hesitation, he pushed it away, and drew his fingertips across her soft, bare skin. Claws from the other hand hooked under the girl's chin, and brought her eyes to meet his. A smile teased his lips, but it was barely visible. He looked deadly serious despite the playful gleam in his eye. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'quid pro quo'?" He wasn't sure what language that was in, but it would sure be put to use tonight. With the slightest, insistent pressure, Laszlo quietly coaxed Abalia to bring her affection more south.

[Mirage]

The Truth Within the Reality Laszlo : XP Awarded Seduction: 2 Bodybuilding: 1 Climbing: 2 Persuasion: 1 Rhetoric: 3 Lores Awarded The Taste of Blood and Lust A Woman's Touch in a Messy Room Love and Poison Abalia : XP Awarded Seduction: 3 Persuasion: 2 Rhetoric: 3 Medicine: 1 Lores Awarded That Stupid Dog... Dangers of Love and Trust Love and Poison The Truth Hidden by a Mirage : To both Laszlo and Abalia, That was an amazing and enticing thread, and I would love to grade any more of the like you come up with. I love a good thread with throngs of emotions and uncertain feelings, so whenever you get another feel free to post it in my office . Though this thread was more of an enlightening one than an XP grabber, I still think you did a great job in earning what you were awarded. Sadly I could not justify bodybuilding for Alabia though, but an amazing thread none the less. Please feel free to PM me with any questions. P.S. I felt that thread deserved a shared lore, thus entangling the lives of these two star crossed lovers. I cannot wait to see what happens next.