tampered | Log Incomplete

Log Incomplete

When; Today
Rating; NC 17
Characters; Isaak, Caterina and Raphael
Summary; Raphael agrees to heal Caterina, though she does not know he is a perverse angel. However, she suspects something is amiss and has Isaak waiting in the wings.
Log;

She had refused to strip to nudity for Raphael to examine her. Instead, she wore a nightshift and a robe over that and awaited the arrival of the angel. His healing abilities she did not doubt, Caterina had been informed that he was an angel of medicine. However, his methods were quite questionable. He had, after all, asked for her to be naked and a mattress.

And that was precisely why Isaak was lingering in the shadows. If Raphael tried anything, then Isaak would ensure Raphael was unable to follow through with his perverse tasks and toss the angel out on his ear.

Caterina did hope that Isaak understood why she was using this method, it was not out of lack of trust or appreciation for Isaak, but she felt as though she were beginning too heavily on him for companionship, her health, sanity and everything in between.

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On his part, Raphael had two knowing hands, very keen and eager eyes, extraordinary interest and more than a measure of talent. The lady de Sforza only had a conveniently veiled, if underneath pleasantly untainted body, and what he could only hope to be a soon crumbling determination to keep this session from moderately mild to every-so-naughty.

He nodded a greeting - feeble, faint from general ennui - passed a hand in haste over his small carrier of nothings - who needed mixes anyway?!- and observed the aura from afar, not without some affection.

Future prey. Like good wine, to be savoured. And this one, so noble...no mere distilled claret. But then he choked back on the wave of sheer, utter sickness that invaded every sense, every cell of the mind, every fibre of the being. The aura was wrong - everything was wrong.

But how was he to know she had meant it?! He stopped half way in pacing, no closer to her than to at best brush fingers hesistantly. Then he blinked and blinked and blinked - then finally, "You truly are dying. It was...no overly spoiled, lady of the castle exaggeration?"

Her mouth turned down into an unamused expression, "I told you I was fatally ill. Be assured, I am no spoiled lady of the castle who faints and capers. I am a capable leader within the Church of my world and I imagine in the future when I inform you of something that you will take it seriously."

Then paused, "Is there anything you are able to do or was this solely a ruse to run hands over my body?" Beneath her artfully done makeup and hair, she was quite pale, very ill looking if one was to peer carefully.

"I...don't know." To himself, really, far less for her ears. Disappointment, to an extent, humility, to the other. Rising foremost, a perverted interest in whatever could eat away such beautiful life.

"I don't know," he repeated, then crouched, pulled a cig, ogled her hands rather expectantly. A cut. It was supposed to be a cut, or some trifle at most. Some hyper-dramatized whim and no more. But he could smell the death in her, and it devoured him too.

Then he rose quite suddenly, pulled her hand, bared the wrist. "Blood. Has your puppet little physician taken any from you? The past days? The past week? At all? I shall have you leeched. Do you understand what I'm saying? I can't take any if it's already weak. I need you leeched."

Caterina had no time to react as he snatched her hand and bared it to the wrist of the satin coverings that draped over her flesh. "What are you-" Then blinked at him, inclining her head.

With her free hand, Caterina adjusted her monocle, her own doctors at home had been far more calm. This was supposed to be an angel and it struck a bit of panic in her to see him so . . almost desperate. "No. He has drawn no blood from me."

Then paused, "Leeched, why must you draw my blood? What shall that do?" She was curious, after all.

"Do you see some fancy laboratory that I'm somehow missing? Competent pharmaceutical aid? Someone to brew us a bloody cuppa? Well?" He scrambled for the carrier, broke a few convenient buckles, then extracted the vile thing, more mucus and broken meat than creature. Raphael liked leeches. Uglier than sin, but had some character.

"The possibility to run tests is kinda nulified. We'll have to do this in a more...traditional way." He picked one up, edging it away when it would still and latch, then took the lady by the hand again. Smoothing the skin was inevitable, but not at all unpleasant - she had nice, noble skin, fresh-smelling and sweet. Raphael liked purty ladies even better.

"By the way, feel free to scream. A lot." He winked, then rolled the sleeve up and slapped the leech on the inside of the elbow. 'Angelic' leeches - a keener bite and quicker to their hunger. The procedure found some repetition in the other, parallel area, then on both sides of her wrists - hardly as if he expected much blood from there, but still. "Pretty lady like you should look good screaming."

Belatedly, he recalled to place his cigarette in some formality of offering - open hand, look of kicked puppy all there. Gabriel would be nicer to'em.

She arched an elegant eyebrow but refrained to mention that Isaak had a rather competant and capable laboratory in this very apartment. Instead, she allowed the angel to do his work, upper lip curling slightly back when she saw the leech.

"I see. Then do as you must," And offered him her arm, allowing his slender fingers to roll up the silk belled sleeve of the robe to her elbow. "I do not scream," She added.

The leech merited only a gasp as it bit down and drew her blood. Though she turned pale after it was affixed to the other arm and then the wrists in turn. "Your bedside manner is abrupt, you know." She sighed, feeling a touch faint from the bloodloss.

He yawned rather stiffly - then glared. "At ease. I don't bed corpses. The side of it's all you'll be getting."

He bent the knee when she flinched, but only removed one of the many, then waved for her to see to the rest. His chosen leech, plump and white and squirming; when he thrust his cigarette in its body, the squirm deceased, blood seeping in dark-dark gushes.

He licked it - closed his eyes - then abruptly placed a dirtied hand on her own, smearing some blood carelessly. "Have a taste."

Rough, almost biting in parts. Like glass and hallucinogens. A leer as he took her in view.

"Hmmmm. Did we try to cut off our pretty little noble wrists, I wonder? Suicide prevention medicine - very resilient to body alterations. Freezes the body's decay." Then he chewed a bit more, the ghost of the taste haunting every tooth, every gum. "Or did the boy toy try some silly little magic? Alchemy? Invocations? A good ol' rite to Satan? I know him, by the way. He doesn't do house calls. Fuck, your cells must be constantly reconstructing, if so."

Eluding this discomposure - a natural patogen - by trying to have the inner configuration change faster than the disease could adapt...a neat little trick.

"I have proven I am not one of the shrinking ladies you are used to," Caterina replied and raised her hand, delicately running the tip of her tongue over the smear of blood on her palm. "I have tasted my own blood before, as well."

Then paused, "Suicide is cowardly. I would never have tried that. Besides, I am already dying, killing myself would be rather pointless."

She gave a half smile, eyes alighting to the shadowy spot where she imagined Isaak was watching from, "Alchemy, I believe. Satan has no place in my life. Is there anything you can do?"

He rolled his eyes with the practised ease of one with , in fact, a veritable license in slacking off. "I'm compelled to ask a cretin's line of questions. Frankly, I don't care about your life philosophy beyond your medical chart and your lingerie choice - as of ten minutes now, not even that."

Alchemy, alchemy, alchmey... he rubbed a finger on his chin, soiled blood as well, let it hang in a thin layer. Interesting, but potentially chancy. He had no actual identity to the assigned boy toy, least of all any credentials. The bloke could be an amateur, or a genius, or the both - and Raphael could make such a muddle of things, though he hadn't in oh so long.

He sighed. "If you've gone by Alchemy, it's probably since boy toy established your body's responsive to it. No need to break the circle. Your call, dead lady - if what you're interested in is some haste in results, we could try the body's equivalent of a summon."

Of course, the disadvantages to such a method were frighteningly glaring - but Raphael was hardly the patient here and wouldn't suffer at all.

Upon his Lady’s request and permission, the Magician has been watching from the shadows. Of course he had ties with the demonic but not with this angel’s demonic or in a role of servitude with such forces. Angelic, demonic, natural, all were tools for the Mage, to be taken, analysed and then used.

So there he was, Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer, watching from the shadows of the corner of the room, ignoring the basic and vain jealousy to see another touch Caterina and still himself to marvel the type of process this one was practicing. At least the buffoon wasn’t bluffing about his credentials, no matter how unprofessional he acted.

He allowed many things, the blood, the crude words and the lingering hands, but as a physician in charge of Caterina’s entire health, the summons is something he couldn’t afford. Materializing beside Raphael, he placed a firm hand over the angel’s shoulder.

“Hoh? Summons? Halt there, healer, employing summons in a body with no stamina to stand the pain could be worse than the illness.”

A genuine smile turned up the corners of her mouth at seeing Isaak fairly materialize from the shadows and render his judgement. A nice feeling overcame her at the professional and personal protection.

"I will defer to Isaak's judgement in this matter where my own knowledge is lacking. I trust him," Caterina replied and watched the two carefully to ensure Raphael would not react violently. "After all, your methods might be too great for my poor body and I would not wish you to exert yourself over this."

If he had moved his head to the side and slower, he might as well have requested that the chamber should rotate beneath him. Still, he was offering this ridiculous amateur the chance to correct his error. Failure to comply - time to bite the head off. "Hand. Off. We've already established you don't know what to do with it anyway, or I wouldn't be here."

Or I would be, and she'd be wearing far less clothing. He pushed the hand off as he came to his feet.

"All deals are off." He glared towards Caterina bitingly. "I said no watchers, if memory serves." It did. He packed the carrier negligently, squishing the leech s'more and muttering in between.

"If you're good enough to play the superviser, you're good enough to take my place. I'm out of here."

Casually, he lit a cig and made to pace.
Not so casually, he looked over his shoulder, " Summons might hurt, but they're a nice, clean ticket out of this private hell, boy toy. Dreamwine, milk of the poppy, some nice little tricks to temporarily delimit her control and presence in her body. Voyeur."

Isaak complied, removing his hand. He was a dignified gentleman who would not lower himself to bicker with the healer angel. Instead, the Mage stepped away and looked at Raphael with neutral expression. His eyes were hooded by shadows and he waited to speak when the man was over with his fit.

“The Cardinal has nothing to do with this,” Isaak explained, trying to exclude Caterina from his reckless actions. “If you were to take an action against someone, Sir, I was the one who broke the confidence, even if I didn’t promise your intimacy.” He paused, glancing at the Duchess. Her health was at stake and while he could do the summons himself, Isaak was also curious about the abilities of this one. “Please, if you are confident to be able to end the process, do it. I will take my leave during the summons.”

Caterina remained silent while Raphael chastised her, but she knew she had been right to have Isaak watching. This angel struck her as something more sinister than he proclaimed and she trusted Isaak far more for whatever treatment he could give than Raphael.

However, as Isaak took the blame for his fault, Caterina's curiosity got the best of her. Was this summons something only the angel could do? It had sounded quite dangerous but now, it seemed, Isaak was pressing her. "If you did the summons," Caterina asked, eyes wide, leaning in so Raphael could get an ample view of her rather large breasts, "Would he be able to watch?"

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