Log: Complete

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

When; Oct. 28th ( Night )

Rating; R for sexual situations & disturbing plot?

Characters; Xulchibara revelations9x6, Vincent snarky_padre_v

Summary; Poor Vince! Off on a life of half assed villainy!
And all because he just wants to be wuvved...

Log;


To sleep! perchance to dream:--ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...

What dreams indeed...
Occasionally in dreams our minds construct an exact duplicate of our surroundings where we lay our heads...
The grain of the wooden pew, the ghosts of insence and burnt candle wick.
The vaulted echos of small nocturnal creatures, even the touch of cool draft on one's cheek were replicated to an alarming clarity.
Perhaps even enough to convince the dreamer they were, in fact, still awake and thier senses simply took these things in as they were.

Perhaps then it could be concluded that the presense that slipped in quietly was not noticed at first..perhaps the change was subtle enough that it required the opening of the dreamer's eyes to take in his companion.

As Vincent lay along the pew, so did the dark man he had encountered a day ago now sat next to him, legs crossed; one ankle hooked over the knee of the opposite leg.
A bemused expression on his angelic features as he looked down at the dreamer, a half-lidded expression of indulgence at such odds with the chaotic shifting colors in his eyes.

In silence the dark man pushed a lock of hair away where it had fallen across the dreamer's face, taking especial care to make no skin-to-skin contact...just yet.

-

Vincent's sleep to this point had been restless...warned of demons, and plagued with enough ghosts in his past to leave most men haunted forever, he had been sort of slowly and feebly treading the air, as tho dreaming of running from something. it took him awhile to 'wake' into this secondary dream, and at first he was startled to find that anyone had crept up on him unawares.
when he saw who it was, he made haste to sit up. again, he brushed off his clothes which, let's face it after being worn for several days now were becoming a bit too shabby for a mere brushing off to fix. his attention immediately glued to his companion. "Lord?" he said, "I hadn't expected you back so soon."

there was, however, a slight sulkiness marring his expression. one could as easily read his words to mean "you SHOULD have come sooner; I was most impatient to see you again."

-

The smile never wavered, but a small half-shrug at Vincent's words ( and thoughts respectfully) was as much shift in that bemused expression the dark man exibited, though he did tilt his head just so to rest on open palm supported likewise by the arm of the pew.

" I have had many demands on my time, dearest." A slight quirk of the cupid's bow mouth hinted at cruelty in it's corners accompanied the penetrating intensity of those diabolic eyes.
" You called to me, and I am here now."
Something passed behind those wrong eyes; a flash of warning?

" What is this pressing matter you feel needs my personal attentions?" He asked, and while his eyes gave ample threat, his expression never altered from indulgence.

-

"I...nothing, m'Lord," Vincent lowered his eyes, sort of studying his hands, "I'm sorry if I've caused you to drop anything pressing." More than a touch of sulk there. Surely he was just as pressing a matter as anything else? Wasn't he chosen at this point? he repressed a shiver as he thought of how it had felt to him to be 'chosen' as he had, and willed his errant flesh to behave itself.

-

The smile that had been so full of promises, pain and pleasure alike, broadened; a sharp grin of pleasure in forcing one to confront thier hidden desires.

" You're lying, Vincent" he said simply.
Yes, the dark man knew why his prophet had called to him so insistently, and yes he intended to make the wayward priest see that there was no concealing anything from him.

In truth there was nothing wrong with wishing to be in The Red God's presense...quite the opposite as the dark man was all too amused by the demanding child that his prophet had become.

-

"I...I'm sorry? It's just..." it's just Vincent had never fallen for a god before.
He was no innocent, and at times far from reticient; he had spent a good amount of the Order's money on the company of women.
It was no crime in their religion to have feelings of desire and to indulge them at times, but Vincent was sure, very sure, that a man of the cloth was supposed to keep himself chaste in SOME cases, anyway, and no doubt in the presence of the gods was one of those cases.

He wasn't supposed to have felt what he felt, and certainly not to expect any sort of reciprocative feelings, or encore performances just to slake the part of him that grew excited by the feel of pain.

-

" It's just I want you... badly" the dark man finished for him, borrowing an exact duplicate of Vincent's voice in lieu of The Red God's own, though it still hinted at the breathy exchange of sweat-dampened bodies tangled in the darkness beneath the ventriloquism.

The dark man even went so far as to laugh gently at the expression that crossed his prophet's face at the voicing of his internal thoughts.

" You have never been touched by a God before, dearest" the dark man reminded Vincent with another half-shrug, though he faded back into the approximation of his own 'human' voice to make the statement.
"It has driven men mad...Or addicted them so completly they think-" slowly the dark man raised one hand's index finger to hover a breath away from the priest's lower lip, -" of nothing else..." he finished; that cruel-edged smile reaching his eyes as they flared oh so briefly with a darkness comparible to the deepest recesses of horror.

-

Vincent gasped, at once embarassed and yet thrilled; to be known for what he was, what he wanted.
He could have, should have let it go at that, apologized for his wrongful feelings, but he did not.
And why shouldn't he feel what he did? he HAD been touched, and what he supposed was supposed to have pained him, burned away what he had been before had in fact done all that the god said and more.
He HAD thought of nothing else.
Poor bastard.

But he said nothing, lowering his head.
Now'd come the rejection, right? The laughing at his presumption, the being told he was, indeed, not worthy.

-

It was true, Xulchibara had bestowed his ( her?) favors in the past, but as with everything the red god did, there was some gain to be had in each and every instance; some trade, or alliance.

The dark man, however, knew his prophet felt unworthy...
" You have been rather....preoccupied with this, I see." he stated, again voicing the memories viewable in his prophet's most recent past.
" Why, my dear priest,"the infernal whispering promises in his voice hardened into a colder growl. -"you have been doing little else beyond craving me, haven't you?" he drawled, and while he had not perceptibly moved from his reclined pose, where Vincent to look up, he would see those discordant eyes staring into him from barely a few inches away.

Now lips took the place of fingers, and the barest hint of warmth passed across the prophet's mouth, his lord was in such close proximity.
" And if I were to ....satisfy....this need? " A bare parting of lips, the flash of a pink tongue to wet them slightly.
" What then, my dear prophet?...What would you do for such a favor?" he asked, feigning ignorance at the answer.

-

"I..." Vincent thought frantically of the things he might offer, but what would any of them be to such a being?
His own prowess was limited to things done to him by abusers, and favors bought from professionals; for all he knew he was entirely unskilled.
He was no fighter, an eolquent enough speaker, but probably no better or worse than any other preacher, and those might well have had more faith than he.
He had killed before, but only in ritual settings, only victims preordained to die and unable to get free, and even though he had tried to harden his heart, he felt revulsion at such workings.

Poor Vincent. he wasn't good at much, yet.
"I...I don't know." he admitted

-

Eye to eye now, and only a hard thought seperating them, the dark man held his prophet's gaze; forced him to meet the rampant atrocity that never ceased it's dancing fire in the Red God's gaze.

" Would you find a child for me? A certain young boy who holds great power...."
A deep but brief growl niether human nor animal elicited from the dark man's parted lips.

"...... No matter what I intend for this innocent creature.." the growling tones said, the sound more a cutting vibration than any sound at all.

-

Vincent shuddered. the close proximity was making it difficult for him to think with anything other than his wants, but he knew that what he was being asked was wrong, knew it to his very core, knew it...and inexplicably, could care less.
He himself had been an innocent once. He had been abused by the Order, and perhaps knowing how wrong the religion itself could be- he knew what had become of Alessa, after all! -he should have defied such a request utterly, with all the empathy of one victimized in the way surely the god would victimize what Vincent was being asked to bring him.
But Vincent's own need was too great.
His voice cracked like a hormone-tormented schoolboy as he tried to sound nonchalant. "sure." He squeaked, "why not?"

-

Almost before the sentence has reached the air, Xulchibara had closed the divide between them, one hand coming up to fist in his hair to force him closer and keep him pinned whether Vincent willed it or not.
The searing ice was the same, the freezing burn, but the kiss was more than such a delicate word implies.
It was a ravishing, a devouring of thought, reason and sanity.
....The consuming, excruciatingly painful, yet also the exquisite sensation the preceedes orgasm by seconds extended to last lifetimes....
A taste of sweetness, of fire, blood and darkness that could very easily drive the mind to the brink of madness and beyond.

.....Even the most devout of holy men had destroyed thier followers, thier homes, thier very lives to ride to hell on that sensation that was both horrific and rapturous.

-

..And did Vincent care what it was he was giving up? His morals, certainly, if he had any left.
His sanity for sure- that young woman already took him for a madman, and at this point he was that much closer.

He thought of nothing else besides what was happening to him. there was nothing else in the world but himself and the Crimson One...well, mostly the Crimson One.

-

The release was likely not registered as the dark man let go of his hold on the prophet's hair, then pushed the man away completly.
If one had wits left to see it, they would note the trickle of blood showing on the dark man's mouth.

Composed, and as cool in his demeanor as the previous incident, the dark man caught and held his prophet's eyes while a leisurly gesture caught the droplet and sucked it from his index finger.
A moment more, and the dark man smiled another cruel-bladed smile, then sat back to resume his earlier position as though not a thing had occurred in the interim.
A small allowance for Vincent to regain his composure before more instructions were forth coming.

-

Vincent's constitution wasn't all that strong; as he'd said he was hardly the fighter type, and his small frame and sallow skin inferred he might well have been a sickly child; although this had been exactly what he was seeking he -almost- passed out cold when presented with the extreme sensation.
It took him awhile to come back from the little brown out he'd had, at least he hadn't embarassed himself by fishbowling on the floor.
He was still a little breathless when the world stopped turning circles around him and he could focus on where he was again.

-

A quirk of blooded lips, and mockery in his burning eyes could be read as satisfaction at the effect the dark man had on mortals, or simple laughter at a weaker being; so easily corrupted.

" Now, then: I have charged you with another task beyond your ordained purpose, prophet" the dark man mumured, the sibilant tones not changed a whit from the hard edge it had carried in an undertone moments ago.
" This boy is protected by powerful forces, dearest, therefore it would be in your best interests to be...discreet in your search"
A flash of dark light swirled in his gaze to emphasize this point.

" Start with your gaurdian, and her little nightmare 'friends'" he suggested almost casually.

The edges of consciousness were calling, pulling the dreamer back to reality...the hard press of the pew to his back, the chill of the stone chapel.
Wakefulness was intruding whether Vincent wanted it or not.

The dark man, ever smiling that wrong smile was fading in clarity, though his parting words lost none of thier resonance.

" Remember,... Vincent:............. Discreet......"

Then, more as though being shoved from the moment than fading, the dreamer woke to a chapel exactly as he had left it.
The dark man nowhere to be found, if he had ever been there at all.
But, lest one doubt, the bite and copper taste of blood was still present in the awoken dreamer's mouth.

-

Vincent woke feeling refreshed and...well..llet's just stick with refreshed.
His clothes, however, were becoming decidedly sorry... he yawned and looked around. frowned. touched his tongue tip with his fingers. It was sore.
Some sort of long and elaborate dream he'd been having... he shook his head, ran a hand thru his hair- it was feeling dusty and a bit greasy, and somewhat longer than he liked having it.
There was a sense of urgency. something he must do.
Well. that would have to wait, in spite of it all. A wash up and some new clothes were in order.
He wondered where he'd find some?