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tampered2006-11-27 11:42 am
revelations9x6.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-27 11:42 am
Log: Incomplete
When; Nov. 27th
Rating; PG-13, to possibly R?
Characters; Xulchilbara![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
revelations9x6, Vincent snarky_padre_v
Summary; Vincent finds his way back into Xulchilbara's favor, and shares a little information on the Iscariots.
Log;
In blood and darkness are all men born.
And in blood and darkness do all men die...
Silence.
The soft-edged silence of cavernous space....yet the difference to this quietude, and that of the tunnels was a reverence.
A hushed quiet that marked the space as a place of honor. A place where few were allowed, and fewer remained.
The cold was gone.
The moistness of mortar and hard stone replaced by warmth and a softness of space, and light.
Of course, no natural light invaded the sanctity of the dimness, but the old hurricane lamps on bedside tables, and the sunken fire place offerred flame, and a flickering of shadows.
Shadows that moved as they ought......most of the time.
Three days of hardship, pain, and deprevation the prophet had endured. A form of cleansing, in order that the mind within the man may be cleansed.
Perhaps the addiction to his Lord's presence had not been foremost on his mind, all things considered, but with the reclamation of his property, the Red God's mark burned brightly, joyfully, at it's reconnection to it's source.
Vincent had been unconscious when the Dragon had brought him home; when she had begged her Master's attention, and showed him all she knew while shivering gently at the touch of his mind to hers.
Xulchilbara had seen all that her blood-blackened eyes had, and considered these things while his prophet slept.
.......Considered, and decided, finally, that his prophet's foolishness had been rather helpful after all.
So, while the man dreamed hazy drugged dreams; mixtures of previous 'sessions' and a few twists of the God's own making, his Lord had been busy.
Similarly, He had kept Vincent deeply asleep while the Handmaiden ( rather unhappily) had constructed new flesh for the Prophet, and remade Vincent as something that much further from human.
Hours had passed, and the new pink scar tissue had faded from it's angry red.....and Xulchilbara allowed Vincent to wake.
With the man curled under soft sheets in his master's bed, said master curled alongside him; propped up by several pillows to idly brush Vincent's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"Thou shalt ever call upon me and
all that is me in the place that is
silent.", he whispered sensuously, his mockery of a human voice joining with the hazy, heated dreams, and coaxing the prophet to wakefulness.
-
Vincent moaned and shivered; an erotic chill, after all that time where he had, finally too feverish to keep his cool, allowed utterance of his pain.
He had no idea that he was someplace safe, as pain had given way to dreams of pain, and finally still, dreams of the hopes of pain... his Master had found him.
And now as he sensed they were lying there, in the bed together, he wondered idly if he should be afraid and found that he could not be afraid; he had perhaps somehow lost some of his ability to feel fear.
The boy who could not shiver, that had been the old fairy tale.
Now's the moment, Vincent. He will either accept you back, or rebuke you for the wrongs you commited.
He moved closer to Xuchilbara. "Please don't hate me, Lord." he whispered, "You know how important love is to me... because I'm stupid, and human. And it was a stupid human who ran from you, but I'm certain this time that he isn't me anymore."
-
Benevolent Master, Beautiful Monster; The God slipped one arm around his servant and pulled him closer with a one armed embrace.
" I do not hate you, Kamlo.......But you left me no choice."
His fingers threaded Vincent's hair, and drew away to let the locks fall away and fan across his pet's cheek.
"You must see that, hmm? I can not but react to you as your actions dictate; You push my patience, and thus force my hand."
The mock-pained expression, and tone of voice were very convinceing......if one did not know the nature of the beast was completly lacking in such things.
Still and all, physical displays of affection were more the measure of the Red God's favor. Thus, when his master pushed aside the pillows to lean down and coax Vincent to face him, it might be said that the aching tenderness in that kiss was a better gauge of how pleased this monster was with Vincent now that he was shriven of more of his weaknesses, and yet still as devoted as ever to the adoration of his Lord.
After a moment, and a play of lips, teeth and tongue across each other, he pulled away and opened slitted, burning eyes on Vincent.
"You have travelled far, Kamlo....Tell me what....or rather whom, has hurt my pet so?"
-
Vincent smiled darkly. "I could just tell you, master. what I dreamed, what I felt...but...wouldn't it be better if I just let you see for yourself?" it had been awhile since the last time he had offered to let his barriers down and let the god see into his mind.
He was sure whatever secrets and phantoms of secrets he had were discreetly tucked under the rug, and that he could do this with openness and a clear conscience.
After all, he wanted those responsible to get into some DEEP shit for this.
"You keep calling me kamlo." he said, "And I keep saying these things, too when I'm with you, in languages I've never spoken, never been taught.
I-I'm yours, and in the end you'll do what you want with me. These eyes are your eyes, after all. I just...I hope the things I've seen, the information pays in full for the wrong I've done. I hope the good outweighs the bad. If it benefits us, benefits you in any way, Lord, then it was worth the pain I bore."
-
A slow grin spread over his lips.
So this pet had learned his place, and that keeping secrets was one of the few things the Red God would not tolerate.
" Words can be powerful when the intent behind them is...but the languages you speak, but do not know, are simply extensions of me. Of that power which resides in the speaking, and naming, of certain tongues...."
Another brush of burning moth's wings across Vincent's mouth, and the gentle, threading caress through his hair turned fierce as those long tapered fingers gathered a fistful of hair to hold the seer captive.
As before the chaos, the fire that ceaselessly burned in the God's eyes spread outward, invading and cutting .
Like the ring of incandescence, the event horizon of a black hole, the dark man's eyes swallowed the prophet's mind; bladed fingers riffling and sorting through the images it found within.
Some were irrelevant, and therefore discarded back to thier previous place, some were of mild interest ( The consuming need to be back in his lord's favor), and some were examined very thoroughly.
The hazy memories, images of a man in a white collar, white-blond hair, and the blood that splattered his dark clothing caused a momentary spike in the frozen fire that was the God's presence; a sense of pleasure in recognizing another enemy.....a human enemy at that.
"EnRiCoooOOo, MaXWeLl...." He growled with a manic glee, an anticipation of retribution once the last imprints before death gave a name to the fanatical glint in Judas' eye.
-
"That's the guy," Vincent's voice was calm, as though unaware or unconcerned about the rifling through his desk, as it were, that had ensued at his permission and insistence, "He said a name? Some organization or another he was part of. I wish I could have paid it closer attention at the time, except I was somewhat slightly otherwise occupied with my own mutilation. oh and uh..." Vincent had just noticed he had hands again, and stopped for a moment, admiring one, "I think I may have managed to activate my laptop. I don't know...I may have been dreaming. but I -reached- for it in the caves..." he hoped the god would be pleased he was at least trying to work with his powers, "and I think I got it on.
I was probably feverish, and raving, some part of it. and in no shape to ward anything, I'm afraid.
But unless I dreamt it all..." the smile widened, nastily, "You may find I inadvertently ruffled a few.....feathers."
Rating; PG-13, to possibly R?
Characters; Xulchilbara
revelations9x6, Vincent snarky_padre_vSummary; Vincent finds his way back into Xulchilbara's favor, and shares a little information on the Iscariots.
Log;
In blood and darkness are all men born.
And in blood and darkness do all men die...
Silence.
The soft-edged silence of cavernous space....yet the difference to this quietude, and that of the tunnels was a reverence.
A hushed quiet that marked the space as a place of honor. A place where few were allowed, and fewer remained.
The cold was gone.
The moistness of mortar and hard stone replaced by warmth and a softness of space, and light.
Of course, no natural light invaded the sanctity of the dimness, but the old hurricane lamps on bedside tables, and the sunken fire place offerred flame, and a flickering of shadows.
Shadows that moved as they ought......most of the time.
Three days of hardship, pain, and deprevation the prophet had endured. A form of cleansing, in order that the mind within the man may be cleansed.
Perhaps the addiction to his Lord's presence had not been foremost on his mind, all things considered, but with the reclamation of his property, the Red God's mark burned brightly, joyfully, at it's reconnection to it's source.
Vincent had been unconscious when the Dragon had brought him home; when she had begged her Master's attention, and showed him all she knew while shivering gently at the touch of his mind to hers.
Xulchilbara had seen all that her blood-blackened eyes had, and considered these things while his prophet slept.
.......Considered, and decided, finally, that his prophet's foolishness had been rather helpful after all.
So, while the man dreamed hazy drugged dreams; mixtures of previous 'sessions' and a few twists of the God's own making, his Lord had been busy.
Similarly, He had kept Vincent deeply asleep while the Handmaiden ( rather unhappily) had constructed new flesh for the Prophet, and remade Vincent as something that much further from human.
Hours had passed, and the new pink scar tissue had faded from it's angry red.....and Xulchilbara allowed Vincent to wake.
With the man curled under soft sheets in his master's bed, said master curled alongside him; propped up by several pillows to idly brush Vincent's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"Thou shalt ever call upon me and
all that is me in the place that is
silent.", he whispered sensuously, his mockery of a human voice joining with the hazy, heated dreams, and coaxing the prophet to wakefulness.
-
Vincent moaned and shivered; an erotic chill, after all that time where he had, finally too feverish to keep his cool, allowed utterance of his pain.
He had no idea that he was someplace safe, as pain had given way to dreams of pain, and finally still, dreams of the hopes of pain... his Master had found him.
And now as he sensed they were lying there, in the bed together, he wondered idly if he should be afraid and found that he could not be afraid; he had perhaps somehow lost some of his ability to feel fear.
The boy who could not shiver, that had been the old fairy tale.
Now's the moment, Vincent. He will either accept you back, or rebuke you for the wrongs you commited.
He moved closer to Xuchilbara. "Please don't hate me, Lord." he whispered, "You know how important love is to me... because I'm stupid, and human. And it was a stupid human who ran from you, but I'm certain this time that he isn't me anymore."
-
Benevolent Master, Beautiful Monster; The God slipped one arm around his servant and pulled him closer with a one armed embrace.
" I do not hate you, Kamlo.......But you left me no choice."
His fingers threaded Vincent's hair, and drew away to let the locks fall away and fan across his pet's cheek.
"You must see that, hmm? I can not but react to you as your actions dictate; You push my patience, and thus force my hand."
The mock-pained expression, and tone of voice were very convinceing......if one did not know the nature of the beast was completly lacking in such things.
Still and all, physical displays of affection were more the measure of the Red God's favor. Thus, when his master pushed aside the pillows to lean down and coax Vincent to face him, it might be said that the aching tenderness in that kiss was a better gauge of how pleased this monster was with Vincent now that he was shriven of more of his weaknesses, and yet still as devoted as ever to the adoration of his Lord.
After a moment, and a play of lips, teeth and tongue across each other, he pulled away and opened slitted, burning eyes on Vincent.
"You have travelled far, Kamlo....Tell me what....or rather whom, has hurt my pet so?"
-
Vincent smiled darkly. "I could just tell you, master. what I dreamed, what I felt...but...wouldn't it be better if I just let you see for yourself?" it had been awhile since the last time he had offered to let his barriers down and let the god see into his mind.
He was sure whatever secrets and phantoms of secrets he had were discreetly tucked under the rug, and that he could do this with openness and a clear conscience.
After all, he wanted those responsible to get into some DEEP shit for this.
"You keep calling me kamlo." he said, "And I keep saying these things, too when I'm with you, in languages I've never spoken, never been taught.
I-I'm yours, and in the end you'll do what you want with me. These eyes are your eyes, after all. I just...I hope the things I've seen, the information pays in full for the wrong I've done. I hope the good outweighs the bad. If it benefits us, benefits you in any way, Lord, then it was worth the pain I bore."
-
A slow grin spread over his lips.
So this pet had learned his place, and that keeping secrets was one of the few things the Red God would not tolerate.
" Words can be powerful when the intent behind them is...but the languages you speak, but do not know, are simply extensions of me. Of that power which resides in the speaking, and naming, of certain tongues...."
Another brush of burning moth's wings across Vincent's mouth, and the gentle, threading caress through his hair turned fierce as those long tapered fingers gathered a fistful of hair to hold the seer captive.
As before the chaos, the fire that ceaselessly burned in the God's eyes spread outward, invading and cutting .
Like the ring of incandescence, the event horizon of a black hole, the dark man's eyes swallowed the prophet's mind; bladed fingers riffling and sorting through the images it found within.
Some were irrelevant, and therefore discarded back to thier previous place, some were of mild interest ( The consuming need to be back in his lord's favor), and some were examined very thoroughly.
The hazy memories, images of a man in a white collar, white-blond hair, and the blood that splattered his dark clothing caused a momentary spike in the frozen fire that was the God's presence; a sense of pleasure in recognizing another enemy.....a human enemy at that.
"EnRiCoooOOo, MaXWeLl...." He growled with a manic glee, an anticipation of retribution once the last imprints before death gave a name to the fanatical glint in Judas' eye.
-
"That's the guy," Vincent's voice was calm, as though unaware or unconcerned about the rifling through his desk, as it were, that had ensued at his permission and insistence, "He said a name? Some organization or another he was part of. I wish I could have paid it closer attention at the time, except I was somewhat slightly otherwise occupied with my own mutilation. oh and uh..." Vincent had just noticed he had hands again, and stopped for a moment, admiring one, "I think I may have managed to activate my laptop. I don't know...I may have been dreaming. but I -reached- for it in the caves..." he hoped the god would be pleased he was at least trying to work with his powers, "and I think I got it on.
I was probably feverish, and raving, some part of it. and in no shape to ward anything, I'm afraid.
But unless I dreamt it all..." the smile widened, nastily, "You may find I inadvertently ruffled a few.....feathers."