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tampered2006-11-23 05:39 pm
poor-smeagol.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-23 05:39 pm
Log; Ongoing
When; Nov. 20th
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Gollum![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poor_smeagol, Xulchibara revelations9x6, Scarab noh_dancer
Summary; Gollum is sneaking. Xulchibara has a gift for him.
Log;
In the darkness underground, Gollum was muttering to himself. He was alone. Always alone. Here in the dark though it felt natural, the dark place with dark smells and darker sounds wrapping around seemed to draw the words and whispers out of him.
"So alone, my love, so alone..."
Head in his hands now he began to sob, a harsh sound, a false sound, but pitiful none the less. Words could occasionally be heard in-between his cries. No precious, no precious. Gone, gone. But then he stopped, straightened, a strange look upon his face, not of sorrow, but of strange glee.
He had seen it. He had seen it, that creature had shown it to him. The thing that was not human, was not orc, smelt of dark power and yet was not like anything from the Black Land that he had seen. And the creature had said that... yes. He would have it.
And so he waited. Muttering, crying, sobbing, muttering again. It didn't matter. Soon he would have his precious, and all would be joy once more.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Gollum
poor_smeagol, Xulchibara revelations9x6, Scarab noh_dancerSummary; Gollum is sneaking. Xulchibara has a gift for him.
Log;
In the darkness underground, Gollum was muttering to himself. He was alone. Always alone. Here in the dark though it felt natural, the dark place with dark smells and darker sounds wrapping around seemed to draw the words and whispers out of him.
"So alone, my love, so alone..."
Head in his hands now he began to sob, a harsh sound, a false sound, but pitiful none the less. Words could occasionally be heard in-between his cries. No precious, no precious. Gone, gone. But then he stopped, straightened, a strange look upon his face, not of sorrow, but of strange glee.
He had seen it. He had seen it, that creature had shown it to him. The thing that was not human, was not orc, smelt of dark power and yet was not like anything from the Black Land that he had seen. And the creature had said that... yes. He would have it.
And so he waited. Muttering, crying, sobbing, muttering again. It didn't matter. Soon he would have his precious, and all would be joy once more.
no subject
Her face was almost....masklike...in it's immobility, and as still as she was, that mask could have been hung on a statue.
Father had told her to find a thing ( a person?).
A thing that Father wanted to help, to save....
She had understood, and so with nothing but a memory from Master, a scent from Teacher, she was searching the tunnels far away from the shaft that connected home to out there.
Out there was a painful place. Too much forgotten memory.
Silent as a shadow, she crept foreward on hands and knees, her now-changed anatomy making it far more natural than walking upright.
Her black hair cloaked much of her, save flashes of ghost-white skin, and the barest flash of teeth marching in a ragged line down her torso....every so often, those teeth would shift and move, however.
She was a creature of the Red God's, and so carried his mark, his scent, his very finger prints on her soul...if the muttering one awaited a sign, he need wait no longer.
She doesn't speak with words, for she no longer remembers how, but she is language in motion.
Small subtle cues that whisper intents; a reaching hand with it's hidden danger, a cocked head offering harmless curiosity, and a sense of a kindred spirit.
I too know what it is to be alone These things say without saying.
I am your friend. I have come to take you home...
no subject
Yelping, he leapt into the shadows, and had been about to turn and run when he heard...
"Alone? We are always alone. Poor, poor Sméagol, they hurt us and cursed us and made us..."
It was so like the precious, so it like that for a minute he thought he saw a gleam of gold in his hand, felt the rush of power and completeness. But whereas the voice of the precious would echo and whisper, would change and shift, this voice stayed unwavering.
"Friend? Home? We are not home, we are far, far away, precious, and we have no need for nasty friends. All hate us, my love, misery!"
But then he remembered. Remembered the creature had told him he would send someone. This someone could lead him to...
He was still afraid, but his love subdued his fear, if only for a little while. He reached out his hand, hovering above hers, not quite grasping it.
"He sent you, my love."
no subject
Yes...Father sent me to find you.. her light shiver and withdrawing hand say.
She turns away, and looks over her shoulder, peeking out from behind her hair.
Follow me
And her whiteness is lost in the shadows...
((OOC: I'm sorry, but I had to hop off. I will be back later tonight ( my time, though T^T) We can just ping this back and forth as we go.))
no subject
"Difficult to find us, oh yes, very difficult in the dark," he mumbled hoarsely under his breath. "But maybe it can see us down there, maybe the precious knows, maybe the precious... we'll see, my love, we'll see."
As she turned his gaze was fixed upon her, neither afraid nor angry, merely watching intently. All white and teeth she was, all masks and pain, like him and yet not like him. She spoke and did not speak, and he did not know whether it was a question or a command.
It didn't matter.
His wailings had been dimmed by fear, his trembling stilled, but his lust still burned within him, his mind still filled with rings upon rings, and one ring shining above all, one perfect ring that would fit only him, be only his. A little more creeping, a little more sneaking, a little bowing and grovelling and then...
He moved after her without a word, seeing nothing but shadow and yet knowing exactly where to go. It would guide him. It was calling him. She would lead him to Him, and He would give it to him. And once he had it safe in his hands once more, nothing could touch him ever again.
no subject
Although, in the end, the rabbit led Alice to the psychotic, and homicidal queen of hearts.
She was silent, and soft as she led the other through the train tunnels, taking the overhead pipeworks where the trains ran, and the deeper tunnels where they did not.
In fact, the further one went from the main line, the older, more derelict the tunnels became.
Darker and darker, until the tiny shuffling sounds of hand and knees on concrete were echoed, step and repeat, by the inky blackness beyond.
The sounds of many bodies, all moving around and over one another, some with a discernable moistness to them.
Many silent voices, much like hers whispered to each other as they passed.
Who disturbs?
Who? Who?
What?
Food, it is food.
No, it is The Dragon.
No, it is Sister.
Who?
What disturbs?
She did not respond to them, but she slowed her pace somewhat to keep closer to the other.
Her siblings were not so temperate as she, for they had been too long without Father...too long ignored.
Of a sudden a hand with fleshy-webbed fingers shot from the dark, reaching for them, but she coiled like a white cat, and swiped at it in much the same fashion.
A squeal, and the hand dissapeared, minus all but one of it's finger-like digits.
When her striking arm came back, the long slender blade that her skin had hidden inside her forearm slid into it's sheath of skin like a silver claw.
She looked at the other, and made sure he was not harmed.
Sniffing, there was no blood beyond that which was on her, and satisfied she turned to press on.
After a time of passing by the whispering, cringing children; a glow, and sound of mechanical grinding became apparent.
A left, a right, one more left, and the glow became brighter, along with a rising heat and the smell of burning things.
A furnace deep in the bowels of the earth, that heated the great house above.( They had travelled far through the darkness)
The red glow in a tower of metal, flashed brighter, than away, as a panel of metal slid too and fro, clinking home every few seconds.
A figure, tall, and a study in sillouettes watched the fire.
He was clothed in a strange cross between a priests' robes, and a warriors' armor.
Black cloth covered him from neck to ankle, trailing sleeves ended in suede gloves.
All was a deep absence of color that echoed his sleek, raven's wing hair.
The dark tones made his white skin stand out in sharp contrast; a marble statue clothed in red-tinted shadows.
She shivered again, and the shiver said; Father
She crawled toward the figure, her head dropped low in obedience, and pressed her cheek to the material that covered his legs, as a cat would beg for attention.
no subject
He looked over his shoulder, and while his pale skin drew the eye away from the fall of black cloth, his eyes could draw one in and hold them fast on a glance alone.
Swirling colored, chaotic-lit, they were truly windows to the soul, for this man, this creature could never be mistaken for human, despite the otherwise flawless facade.
He was chaos contained in flesh, and his nature showed in every subtle play of suede-gloved hand in her hair, the dark light in his eyes.
The very presence, the sense, he exuded was a strange one, and tended to be both unsettling and exciting for most who were fortunate ( or perhaps, unfortunate) enough to come so close.
It certainly affected her intensly, for she shivered and nuzzled at his hand as though it were the most beautiful, and yet terrible thing she had ever known.
" Hello, little one." He purred, a sibilant voice that paced, and evaluated like a hunting cat toying with a lesser animal.
no subject
But this place was not silent, not at all.
At first he thought it was the precious simply calling to him louder, harsher. It did that sometimes, when it wanted him, or he wanted it, or both, or neither. But then he picked out anther voice in there, another whisper in his head. His guide? No, not his guide. Another and another and...
He gasped, hissed, crouching behind her protection. Creatures. Bodies. A mass of them. Or was it one? So much flesh, tangled and whispering, calling out things he could not understand, names he could not know.
Squealing like one of them, he leapt back as it shot out. Afraid to move, afraid to run, too cowardly to help he watched wide-eyed as she disposed of it, his heart beating fast within his bony chest.
The job done, he followed her still.
We don't like it, we don't likes it at all!
Why so afraid, my love? Coward, is we?
We is not afraid! No, no! But there are so many of them...
A swipe, a slice, sniff and strike, and she will pay them back.
Pay them...
No fear, little further, little further, come now, come along.
Pay them back...
Yes, soon, soon.
The place, their destination, it reminded him of so many dark places from his old world. It was metal and fire, it was bright and dark. And in it, tall, proud, stood a shadowed figure, clearly a leader. Another image that was so familiar to him, but he knew this one was a different beast altogether. Still following his escort's lead, he edged steadily closer to the man-who-was-no-man, muttering all the while.
"Dark places, and dead places, and rotten too, precious, all rotting and shrieking. Shapes all-seeing, always moving, terrible, terrible..."
He stopped suddenly with a shake of his head and a furrowing of his brows, his whole body tensing as the creature spoke. "We came, my love, oh yes, we came."
Cautiously he paused for a moment, as though deliberating some great matter, and then, giving out a choked gollum from the very base of his throat, he dropped his head a little, in something that could very well have been a bow.
no subject
His gloved hand came away from his pet's hair, and she leaned softly against the hem of his robes, uncaring if of anything else save keeping contact with her master's painfully pleasing presence.
His other hand appeared from it's sleeve, and laced it's fingers with the opposing.
Laced, and palm open, then apart again, and with a graceful slight of hand, the fingers parted and revealed a glint of gold held between index and mid finger.
A trick of the eye, much like the goblin king's crystals, and the glint of gold flashed, and settled into the palm of his outstretched glove to show itself as a ring.
A simple gold circlet, with strange inscriptions trailing around it's outer circumfrence.
On the muted softness of the black glove, those words swirled and glowed with a light that mirrored the discordant dancing in his eyes; a perfect duplicate of the image that dominated the creature's thoughts.
Well, almost perfect....
" You asked what I expected in return, little one," the dark man purred, " And so I answer you; a gift for a gift."
Another twist of fingers, a slight of hand, and the ring walked across his knuckles.
" It is yours, my dear, and all that I ask in return is a service you may provide."
The ring skipped over the last knuckle, and dissapeared into his fisted hand.
The hand opened, palm out, to show it was gone.
" Soft and quick as a shadow..." he said, returning the other's own words to him, as the opposing glove revealed the ring between index and mid finger again.
" I want you to listen, to hear, and to then tell me all you learn." One hand passed before the opposing, temprarily obscuring the ring from view, then coming away to show it was gone.
" To be my eyes, in those places where my vision is obscured.-"
His hands came together, in a position of prayer, then opened like two pages of a book to show the ring once more nestled in the black suede.
"-And my eyes alone." Said eyes flared with a brief brightening of flame, in subtle warning.
" You will speak of these things only to me, and tell no other that it was I who gave you this gift."
The hands closed sharply, one over the other, then the suede whispered as they slid palm to palm away from one another, the ring gone again.
"...My gift to you, and so yours to me, will be known to only you and I....a promise, and a secret."
A motion somewhat like snapping one's fingers, and the ring appeared between thumb and forefinger.
" Your oath, both of your oaths, to me alone."
....And finally he extended the ring in offerring, though the chains of choice now made it a shackle, and once slipped on, could not be broken.
no subject
But then...
He saw it. There. It was so perfect, so beautiful. So small, and so strong, and so... "Precious..." he choked out the word, "my love, my..."
And it was gone. The creature made it vanish as quickly as it had appeared. Had he seen it another time, Gollum would have looked at the ring very carefully. And, yes, he might have noticed the flaws, the little differences, how this thing was precious but not the precious...
But now all he could be concerned with was the fact that ut had been there, and now it wasn't. He had seen it, and now it was gone. Any doubts, any beginnings of doubts were instantly crushed in a wave of lust and longing and need to see it again.
"A gift, my love, it was always a gift, it was our birthday present, my love, my love, it was..."
His eyes flickered too and from the ring, as it went and came again, each time he shifted further forward, closer and closer to the man-figure.
"Sméagol is soft, Sméagol is quick, we can move so no one can see us or know us till we have them, we can... shadow, yes, listen, yes, hear, tell, yes, my love..."
He was almost right before the god now, grovelling at the other's knees, mouth agape in awe, in naked longing. "Eyes, always watching, only watching for the Master, yes, yes, we could do that, precious, we would if only we..."
The precious. So close, so close. Gone, not gone, gone again... And there. Before him. Reaching out to him. The beautiful, the beautiful, beautiful ring...
"We swears," he croaked hoarsely. "Yesss, to do what is asks of us, yes, we swears."
Trembling, he stretched out one hand towards the outstretched ring. "We swears to serve..."
His fingers grasped, his eyes bulged. "Master..."
And then his hands enclosed over it. And a whisper slipped out from him. A statement. A release.
"Precious..."