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tampered2007-02-19 12:08 pm
favored-son.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-19 12:08 pm
Log: Ongoing (?)
When: The night of February 14th
Rating: Teen for suggestive content, possibility of R in the future.
Characters: Larmica [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
2noble4u] and D [favored_son]
Summary: Larmica finds herself the unexpected hostess of a Lust-cursed dhampir.
Log:
If D had been thinking rationally, he would have done whatever was necessary to avoid the female population of the City. Unfortunately, curses had a way of destroying all rational thought and common sense. The dhampir was restless, having not indulged in his baser urges in quite some time, and to counteract this restlessness he had taken his horse out for some exercise. The cyborg did not need exercise, strictly speaking, but D was not terribly concerned with the validity of his excuse for going out.
Before the dhampir had a chance to realize what he was doing, he had drawn rein in front of Larmica's new residence and dismounted. A very male part of his brain reminded him that this was the home of a rather lovely woman who had shown interest in him before, and suggested that he wait and see what happened instead of following the more sensible urge to get back on his horse and leave.
It wasn't Castle Lee, but it would do. For now.
Larmica sat in her new domicile with papers spread before her on the desk. The affairs of a vampire Countess are complex things. One could not be slack about setting them in order. For Larmica, at the moment, this meant contracting to have her new castle built, hiring on labour and servants, finding a decent dress-maker, searching out monsters who would be willing to stay in her Pit of Death for fourteen rancid cow carcasses a week, plus expenses. The usual, really.
She took a sip of blood from the goblet next to her and made a face. Bah. This chilled, bagged stuff was vile. And, an insult to her nature and her status. She was on the point of making a note to find an alternate manner of sustenance, when a frisson ran down her spine. It was a sensation she recognized instantly. The hunter, D. He was nearby.
Larmica stood and gazed out her window. It was D, alright. Dante...Dracula...And, he seemed to be fixed with staring at her house. Larmica made an irritated sound and willed her front door to open. She was busy. Far too busy to play about at the moment. He could enter or not. The choice was his.
"Looks like the lady of the hour noticed you," the parasite remarked as the door swung wide. Had D been visiting anyone other than Larmica (a nice human woman, perhaps), the words would have been voiced with smug satisfaction, but Left Hand was a little leery of where this encounter would lead. It was amusing to watch D fumble with the problem of intimacy most of the time, but even Left Hand was a little afraid of how the dhampir would behave if the curse had removed all of his inhibitions.
For his own part, D ignored the parasite. His senses drew him towards the vampire he had unconsciously come to see.
He was coming? Then, she would greet him.
Her home no longer had a throne room, but it did have a sitting room, and she ensconced herself there in an arm chair, looking every inch the bored aristocrat.
When D entered, he immediately made himself comfortable. He sat down in a chair, leaned back with his arms folded over his chest, and crossed his long, well-muscled legs. "Larmica."
She raised an eyebrow at the sound of her name.
"Waltzing into my home and making yourself comfortable before even greeting me. Your manners are still appalling," she said, turning her gaze towards him, "Why have you come?"
D allowed himself a smile. She certainly was nice to look at. He'd give her that much. "It seems there is something I want inside this room, Countess. Perhaps, in your infinite wisdom, you can tell me what that is."
From his left hand came the slightly muffled words, "Curse. Just roll with it. He'll be back to wanting to kill you by midnight."
Larmica felt her mouth curve into a snarl at the parasite's mention of a 'curse'. More of the city's so-called gods and their manipulations. Potent enough to affect even the sacred ancestor's scion?
Interesting.
"Simply desiring something does not mean you can claim it," she replied, standing, keeping her eyes on the hunter.
"There are some who would argue that I have the right," D reminded her, though he knew that she understood this truth better than anyone else in the City. He watched her stand, and there was an appreciative light in his eyes. "I have run your gauntlet. Where is my reward?"
At this point, Left Hand groaned and began to wonder if he really wanted to stick around. Whatever happened, the results would not be pretty in the morning.
Larmica smirked.
"Your companion disagrees," she said, gesturing to D's left hand.
D shrugged. "He can leave if he wants to. He'll manage on his own for the night." Then the hunter rose and crossed the room to stand in front of Larmica. Some small, surviving remnant of his right mind told him he should leave before things went any farther. The curse quickly shut out the warning voice. D raised his gloved hand and ran his fingers through Larmica's hair, not caring that the gesture was uninvited. "You haven't answered my question."
Larmica's hand shot up and clamped around D's wrist, her finger nails poking through the material of his gloves.
"You forget your place," she said, quietly.
Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled, revealing her small, sharp fangs.
The hunter smirked, but did nothing to free his hand from her grasp. "I know my place very well, just as I know yours." He allowed the malevolent aura he had inherited from his father to spill past his control and fill the room. "How many vampires can say they have been with the son of Dracula?"
Larmica's lips curved into a smile that widened as the air in the room cooled and its shadows grew deeper. She tightened her grip and felt her nails pierce the glove's material.
Still holding D's wrist, she stepped nearer and looked up into his face. If she had been human, she'd have been standing close enough for him to feel her breath as she spoke.
"One day, hunter, you will have to cease your hypocrisy and decide whether or not to embrace your father's heritage or cast it aside."
"I'm embracing it right now." Ice-hued eyes darkened to the color of fresh blood. D's own breath--colder than a human's--brushed over Larmica's skin as he leaned in. "Is that enough for you?"
It apparently was more than enough for the parasite in his left hand. The creature made a swift exit and dragged itself to the door, muttering, "I don't want to see this, and I sure as hell don't want to feel any more of what's going on in that body of his."
Larmica laughed. It was a low, throaty sound.
"Enough for me? You're very solicitous when you stand to gain from it. Not such a white knight, after all?"
She released D's wrist and slowly licked his blood from her nails, savouring the taste.
"Hunters are not heroes. You know that. We do what is necessary to finish the job and get our money." He tucked his gloves away and removed his hat and sword. There were still stakes in the pouches at his waist if he needed them. The cloak went next, leaving D's well-sculpted body in full view. Longer fingers grasped Larmica's hand, as if he meant to pull her wrist to his mouth and taste her in turn.
Larmica flexed her fingers but made no move to pull her wrist from D's grip. She watched him, her eyes hooded and her lips parted.
"You wish to feed?"
D smiled, revealing elongated fangs. "I wish to indulge." Without warning, he sank his own nails into the flesh of her wrist. He dipped his head and licked the blood from the wounds, eyes never leaving her own, still smiling, and completely heedless of his own reservations about intimate contact with anyone. Larmica could survive his wants. If she could not, then she was hardly worthy of being called a countess.
Larmica shuddered at the feel of his mouth on her wrist, his tongue licking at her wounds.
She arched her throat and growled softly, dragging her fingernails over D's cheek.
The dhampir circled his free arm around her waist and roughly pulled her against him. "We are both wearing entirely too much clothing," he informed her calmly, an instant before he sank his fangs into her throat. He growled as the blood hit his tongue, and his fingers tightened convulsively around her wrist. He stayed there for only a moment before he tore away, clearly ready to do more.
Rating: Teen for suggestive content, possibility of R in the future.
Characters: Larmica [
2noble4u] and D [favored_son]Summary: Larmica finds herself the unexpected hostess of a Lust-cursed dhampir.
Log:
If D had been thinking rationally, he would have done whatever was necessary to avoid the female population of the City. Unfortunately, curses had a way of destroying all rational thought and common sense. The dhampir was restless, having not indulged in his baser urges in quite some time, and to counteract this restlessness he had taken his horse out for some exercise. The cyborg did not need exercise, strictly speaking, but D was not terribly concerned with the validity of his excuse for going out.
Before the dhampir had a chance to realize what he was doing, he had drawn rein in front of Larmica's new residence and dismounted. A very male part of his brain reminded him that this was the home of a rather lovely woman who had shown interest in him before, and suggested that he wait and see what happened instead of following the more sensible urge to get back on his horse and leave.
It wasn't Castle Lee, but it would do. For now.
Larmica sat in her new domicile with papers spread before her on the desk. The affairs of a vampire Countess are complex things. One could not be slack about setting them in order. For Larmica, at the moment, this meant contracting to have her new castle built, hiring on labour and servants, finding a decent dress-maker, searching out monsters who would be willing to stay in her Pit of Death for fourteen rancid cow carcasses a week, plus expenses. The usual, really.
She took a sip of blood from the goblet next to her and made a face. Bah. This chilled, bagged stuff was vile. And, an insult to her nature and her status. She was on the point of making a note to find an alternate manner of sustenance, when a frisson ran down her spine. It was a sensation she recognized instantly. The hunter, D. He was nearby.
Larmica stood and gazed out her window. It was D, alright. Dante...Dracula...And, he seemed to be fixed with staring at her house. Larmica made an irritated sound and willed her front door to open. She was busy. Far too busy to play about at the moment. He could enter or not. The choice was his.
"Looks like the lady of the hour noticed you," the parasite remarked as the door swung wide. Had D been visiting anyone other than Larmica (a nice human woman, perhaps), the words would have been voiced with smug satisfaction, but Left Hand was a little leery of where this encounter would lead. It was amusing to watch D fumble with the problem of intimacy most of the time, but even Left Hand was a little afraid of how the dhampir would behave if the curse had removed all of his inhibitions.
For his own part, D ignored the parasite. His senses drew him towards the vampire he had unconsciously come to see.
He was coming? Then, she would greet him.
Her home no longer had a throne room, but it did have a sitting room, and she ensconced herself there in an arm chair, looking every inch the bored aristocrat.
When D entered, he immediately made himself comfortable. He sat down in a chair, leaned back with his arms folded over his chest, and crossed his long, well-muscled legs. "Larmica."
She raised an eyebrow at the sound of her name.
"Waltzing into my home and making yourself comfortable before even greeting me. Your manners are still appalling," she said, turning her gaze towards him, "Why have you come?"
D allowed himself a smile. She certainly was nice to look at. He'd give her that much. "It seems there is something I want inside this room, Countess. Perhaps, in your infinite wisdom, you can tell me what that is."
From his left hand came the slightly muffled words, "Curse. Just roll with it. He'll be back to wanting to kill you by midnight."
Larmica felt her mouth curve into a snarl at the parasite's mention of a 'curse'. More of the city's so-called gods and their manipulations. Potent enough to affect even the sacred ancestor's scion?
Interesting.
"Simply desiring something does not mean you can claim it," she replied, standing, keeping her eyes on the hunter.
"There are some who would argue that I have the right," D reminded her, though he knew that she understood this truth better than anyone else in the City. He watched her stand, and there was an appreciative light in his eyes. "I have run your gauntlet. Where is my reward?"
At this point, Left Hand groaned and began to wonder if he really wanted to stick around. Whatever happened, the results would not be pretty in the morning.
Larmica smirked.
"Your companion disagrees," she said, gesturing to D's left hand.
D shrugged. "He can leave if he wants to. He'll manage on his own for the night." Then the hunter rose and crossed the room to stand in front of Larmica. Some small, surviving remnant of his right mind told him he should leave before things went any farther. The curse quickly shut out the warning voice. D raised his gloved hand and ran his fingers through Larmica's hair, not caring that the gesture was uninvited. "You haven't answered my question."
Larmica's hand shot up and clamped around D's wrist, her finger nails poking through the material of his gloves.
"You forget your place," she said, quietly.
Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled, revealing her small, sharp fangs.
The hunter smirked, but did nothing to free his hand from her grasp. "I know my place very well, just as I know yours." He allowed the malevolent aura he had inherited from his father to spill past his control and fill the room. "How many vampires can say they have been with the son of Dracula?"
Larmica's lips curved into a smile that widened as the air in the room cooled and its shadows grew deeper. She tightened her grip and felt her nails pierce the glove's material.
Still holding D's wrist, she stepped nearer and looked up into his face. If she had been human, she'd have been standing close enough for him to feel her breath as she spoke.
"One day, hunter, you will have to cease your hypocrisy and decide whether or not to embrace your father's heritage or cast it aside."
"I'm embracing it right now." Ice-hued eyes darkened to the color of fresh blood. D's own breath--colder than a human's--brushed over Larmica's skin as he leaned in. "Is that enough for you?"
It apparently was more than enough for the parasite in his left hand. The creature made a swift exit and dragged itself to the door, muttering, "I don't want to see this, and I sure as hell don't want to feel any more of what's going on in that body of his."
Larmica laughed. It was a low, throaty sound.
"Enough for me? You're very solicitous when you stand to gain from it. Not such a white knight, after all?"
She released D's wrist and slowly licked his blood from her nails, savouring the taste.
"Hunters are not heroes. You know that. We do what is necessary to finish the job and get our money." He tucked his gloves away and removed his hat and sword. There were still stakes in the pouches at his waist if he needed them. The cloak went next, leaving D's well-sculpted body in full view. Longer fingers grasped Larmica's hand, as if he meant to pull her wrist to his mouth and taste her in turn.
Larmica flexed her fingers but made no move to pull her wrist from D's grip. She watched him, her eyes hooded and her lips parted.
"You wish to feed?"
D smiled, revealing elongated fangs. "I wish to indulge." Without warning, he sank his own nails into the flesh of her wrist. He dipped his head and licked the blood from the wounds, eyes never leaving her own, still smiling, and completely heedless of his own reservations about intimate contact with anyone. Larmica could survive his wants. If she could not, then she was hardly worthy of being called a countess.
Larmica shuddered at the feel of his mouth on her wrist, his tongue licking at her wounds.
She arched her throat and growled softly, dragging her fingernails over D's cheek.
The dhampir circled his free arm around her waist and roughly pulled her against him. "We are both wearing entirely too much clothing," he informed her calmly, an instant before he sank his fangs into her throat. He growled as the blood hit his tongue, and his fingers tightened convulsively around her wrist. He stayed there for only a moment before he tore away, clearly ready to do more.