Tess/Tez Bola
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"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633 
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Saarlan
Apr 28, 2014 17:15:11 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Apr 28, 2014 17:15:11 GMT -8
"Geez, you don't have to get so technical," Tess said in a mock huff. "Just say no next time. I'm not trying to place parameters on your femininity, it was just a suggestion. You could get a black dress for all I care and it would look just as splendid, if not more, because you may actually be comfortable in it. Who knows, maybe you'd like it. But if you want to continue being a snobby spoil sport, be my guest."
Tess stood up again and stretched her arms over her head. "This day feels like it's lasted for weeks," she groaned. "Let's go already. I don't feel like being found by any more of your friends with scores to settle." Tess put out her hand for Rip to take to lead the way home.
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The Major
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Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Post by The Major on Apr 28, 2014 19:41:55 GMT -8
Technical details marched much like the stray puffs of pollen floating as tiny motes across the fields, lazy yellow flowers, and transparent water rippling with autumnal breezes and chubby, hungry fish streaked in silver. In the distance, over in the direction of the ice tipped mountain peaks comes the piercing, echoing screech of an eagle, spotting its dinner swimming in the puffy cloud refracting lake. It awaits for the tree like shadows to move on, and it suffered their presence in its swath of territory with a sense of generosity befitting a sovereign. Another squawk emits. Beneath His Majesty, a fledgling, freckle faced major spat out from Hell smiles with a sunshine cracking glimmer of hope, taking the hand of the woman she was growing to love, leading on. Marching on.
Marching on.
The rest of that day would have been spent more or less like Tess had outlined, with the duo not encountering any further fragments from the past. However, as they began to peruse the various shops and centers of the town effects from certain extracurricular activities had decided to take their toll in a vengeance most vicious. It began with a headache which progressively got worse and worse until a full blown debacle more or less axed further enjoyment of the free afternoon and evening. This particular migraine would eventually incapacitate the Major as her body burned out on fumes for nearly a week. Although there was a great deal of insistence coming from the fit of the pair, mostly geared to a hospital visit, the officer weakly argued that it was not at all necessary, and such results, while seemingly fatal, were just bodily punishment for pushing much too far in a mysterious and overclocked paradise. What a medley of pills that were hastily swallowed in that time, and what arguments were had due to insistence. Regardless of opinion of medical applications, they kept the hotel room dark -and such served only to be something of a boon for depression.
So it went, and just as predicted all such headaches and fevers subsided and in their place a new sort of vigor took its place. Swallowing the need to utter "told you so" the Fallanassi instead puts aside romantic pursuits in order to better prepare the auburn haired one for combat situations, so that she may further take control of her fate and not rely on the aggressiveness of Rancor or the kindness of strangers. They spent a great deal of time training physically, more or less because it was the manner in which the Major spent her early mornings -running from place to place, using free weights, and even challenging her not so graceful counterpart to climb the sides of buildings and rooftops -an invaluable skill to an urban sniper. Tess was definitely not a soldier, and it took a great deal of booze to motivate her to keep at it as they both worked to better and better results for the remainder of the month. After some intense bargaining and negotiations, Riplian convinced her Other to begin weapon's training. Try as they might, however, the sessions seemed to end on a frustrating note, as there seemed to be no niche that Tess' more timid yet extremely angry nature tended to fit with enough aptitude to make it a focus. They did manage to discover that projectile based firearms, with their heavier discharges, did not suit her at all, and thus made the switch to a specialized blaster pistol that the split woman could use more or less effectively and within an acceptable level of accuracy.
After all, talent was never instantaneous.
Nights were spent reveling in a manner of which they were accustomed to: drinking heavily, terrorizing Saarlan itself with any number of given antics or wild experiments, or taking in any of the cultural sights and sounds -and on one occasion, as a token of appreciation, the Major rented out the jazz club in which they first used to get to know each other and performed a number of arias and songs in front of a live audience (without casting audio or optical illusions in aid), which provided a great source of discomfort since it was in plain view. As chance would have it the Major could sing quite well indeed, and even provided that sort of ethereal, innately miserable sublimity to the act which was compelling, even captivating. Once this was realized there was a certain comical charm to the proceedings, and behind the gangly and awkward nature fun was revealed- as that contralto was perfect for recreating the image of a femme fatale in a smokey noir, only clad in a suit instead of the traditional lace undergarment.
Unbeknownst to them both, that night as a couple -as they both blacked out on the carpet of their room- was their last. Tez once again took over, angry, and scathing for progress to the problem. For the next two months, the more violent of the twins ensured that all matter of hedonistic living was cut to ribbons, and practically enforced a cruel policy of dumping all forms of liquid depressant. An atrocity indeed, but effective at motivation. They often bumped heads in heated debate, but overall Tez's ragged nature meshed in a more natural way with the markswoman's penchant for violence, and they both managed to establish an working partnership based mostly on insults and over critical dissertations. On more than one occasion the pair traveled off planet while collecting a certain set of artifacts with the sole intent of researching a safe way to separate the Bola girls. It was on these trips that the rancor learned more about the political subtleties surrounding both the Reich and the Empire. Ironically, while one side had access to matters relating to the heart and soul, the other was given an insight to matters relating to more calculated efforts and their ramifications -and the other Bola displayed quite the aptitude for it. Tez certainly didn't take a back seat in study, and rather than fully trust in the Fallanassi, she instead familiarized herself with the potential conditions and solutions, making great use of the Major's vast resources and mental alacrity in order to find a series of parameters that would make her most comfortable, rather than accepting the fastest and possibly messiest conclusion. While it was a refreshing change of pace to see Tez motivated in a positive, non combative way, the morbid scientist tended to think past to points while Tess was around, becoming nostalgic and quite often feeling severe bouts of loneliness which could be surmised as a kind of withdrawal symptom; verily, she regretted that they both had that one last cocktail of liquid cocaine which floored them both, instead of consummating their relationship for the first time in a glorious moonlit romp of secretion stained pillow cases -which was the plan.
Because right now, that was really biting the Fallanassi, and making her angry, and ornery, and very agitated that she was ornery.
In the three month period, the city of Saarlan had matured. Much of the buildings that were still being put together were complete, and the marina and waterfront boardwalk had doubled in size. And yet none of that progress brought any measure of satisfaction. At least the terrorist Chloro had not blown anything up in the mean time. She and her mouth had been spotted here and there, both in Corvala and in town itself, but on no occasion were they accosted; instead they were left to their own thoughts and machinations until they made their own choices. Of course, the Major had not pressed Tez to bring back her sister for a turn, but that would be coming to a head soon, one way or another. Although the Reich's Princess was seriously considering cultivating the turn via musket stroke, since this oppression was starting to make her hair wind up and curl tighter than ever before.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Apr 29, 2014 7:12:21 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Apr 29, 2014 7:12:21 GMT -8
Much to her original displeasure, Tez felt that her lengthy take over was both necessity and research. She grew weary of the same nightly procedures of intoxication and general ne'er do well antics. If she were to be under the employ of the Major, she would need to know more about her through a first person account. She knew enough about her poloitcial and socio-economic views, having been an avid follower of her earlier exploits, but she needed to become more accustomed to other attributes such as fighting style and weapons choice (anything else besides the abnormal musket, of course). True, their views and opinions collided at times due to the head strong nature of them both, but that didn't ever put a tarnish on the respect one had for the other.
After a while, Major began to insist they hone in on Tez's force capabilities. Tez naturally felt that she didn't need an instructor, having come along this far in life already on her own. She tried to evade the subject every time it seemed to come up out of nowhere, and once it ended in a very lengthy and heated debate (something was literally lit on fire; mostly "on accident"). Major used that very same argument as her reasoning behind putting a rein about Tez's erratic and at times irrational behavior. They often traveled to Major's private shooting range, the very same one Major attempted (and kind of failed) to teach Tess basic weapons handling. Shooting was a calming and soothing activity for the fickle Fallanassi. She deemed it a second nature as well as being among her top attributes. While she instructed Tez on how to maintain and fire her weapon, she was able to make many analogies to her thoughts immersed with the force. Major taught Tez how to remain calm and focused while sniping the improved illisionary targets, all the while remaining pensive and meditative between snipes. Firing and reloading were like mantras, she had said, akin to exhaling and inhaling. One must be able to fully concentrate, focusing all attentions on the target. It was important to keep a steady hand in addition to a quiet mind, and the force was there to aid in this process. The pupil found it to be ironic how one could embrace the horrors of war, violence and action, while achieving a zen-like state of consciousness.
All in all, the relationship between Tez and Major became less threatening and more proactive. Both felt the other needed more discipline in some areas and sought to aid in adopting such strict behaviors. Tez finally allowed Major's lover to bleed through after she felt she was well versed in her meditations, warning them to not take advantage of the opportunity by becoming beyond belligerent again. Though she promised them their privacy, she still threatened to check in every so often to make sure they weren't squandering their time.
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The Major
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Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Saarlan
Apr 30, 2014 9:56:29 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on Apr 30, 2014 9:56:29 GMT -8
Deviling into the scientific ramifications of transference certainly provided a much needed distraction from the fact that as more time passed, the more the Major reverted to her more typical, introverted self. It was obvious that her more negative outlook once again dominated her mental meanderings, and this further translated to her resorting to more and more alone time behind locked doors. Soon after that, the habits of deflection and information evasion began creeping up. It was clear that for whatever reason, the only person who Riplian had determined to trust was Tess, and due to this distinction only she received any type of special treatment.
It would come to a head upon the day of her return. On that day, the good Major was bathing her skin in the healthy glow of computer monitors, dousing her face in translucent blues and greens of sickly persuasion. While the scientist overlooked a number of brain wave pattern scans and other such technical nonsense that detailed Tez's neurological and physiological makeup, she made rather unorthodox notes on different pads written in charcoal pointed pencils, causing a number of smudges here and there which imprinted themselves on view screens and table tops. Other than this, she was somewhat orderly in her study of the subject at hand. Though at first glance the order in which papers and trinkets were strewn about made no apparent sense and even seemed counter intuitive.
Here, the Major hummed a song on how the sharpest lives were the most dangerous to lead, twirling that black pencil in a white gloved hand like a miniature baton. It wasn't until a few minutes had passed that the Fallanassi had even noted Tez was standing there watching. Usually her Force Presence gave away her position.
"Oh har har. I am trying to dredge through your psychotic plethora of mental instabilities, fVader. Actually, it is quite interesting, almost immersive, to see the strange way endorphins are triggered to be released upon your angry bouts. But I am busy. I will deal with you later. Go. Do not look at me like that. Go terrorize the SIGINT officers. They could use the crisis."
She said, shooing Tez off like she was an errant child with a sharp toothed grin. The intrusion was not so much a problem, and it actually might have been fun to assault posted soldiers with orders designed to psyche out the average enlisted Schütze.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Apr 30, 2014 20:05:52 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Apr 30, 2014 20:05:52 GMT -8
There was a slight droopiness to the watery gray eyes that were locked on the gleam of Rip’s glasses. The auburn haired woman continued to stand and observe while looking much out of her element. She felt as if she had been asleep for much longer than she normally would have been; her vision was blurry and her head had a dull ache. She couldn’t remember what she had been doing prior to this moment, but did remember that last swig of liquid cocaine… Was she still drunk? What time was it? What was Rip doing so late? Er, so early? Regardless, the woman was incredibly nauseous. “What did you just call me?” she asked while trying to rub her eyes in to focus. “fVader? The hell does that mean?” She was beginning to take to take small steps closer to Rip (her equilibrium being skewed akin to that of a person hung over) and wondered why her slender hands were once again sheathed in those comically embossed gloves. She theorized where they could be, but decided to inquire about that later.
“Hey, are you alright?” Tess asked with a touch of pain in her voice. “Why are you telling me to leave you alone? Has something happened? Was our training session that embarrassing yesterday? You said I was improving! Or were you lying? Ugh, I told you I wasn’t any good with projectile weapons! Why can’t you just let me stick to what I’m comfortable with- adaptation and improvisation? But then again, bludgeoning a droid with phaser canons or whatever with a table leg wouldn’t exactly be a good idea…” Tess trailed off and noticed that Rip had dropped her pencil and was staring awkwardly at her. She scrunched her face to make the basic outlines come together and could tell by Rip’s face that things weren’t exactly what they seemed. “I… haven’t been around in a while, huh?” she asked cautiously. She took out the ribbon holding the lop-sided pony tail she was sporting and halfheartedly put it in her pants pocket. She ruffled her hair and sighed. Tess pulled a stool next to Rip’s chair, took a seat and held her hands. She began to peel away the gloves and gently placed them on the desk. She kissed the back of said hands and muttered, “It’s me, Rip. I’m sorry. Please tell me she didn’t do anything stupid.”
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Chloro
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Sparkle and glitter, gleam, glow - SHINE!
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Post by Chloro on Apr 30, 2014 20:35:43 GMT -8
It didn't take long for Chloro to find the Mouth after leaving the Major. She had sat on a stump, flicking ash from her cigarrette into a neat pile, until the Mouth meandered to her. There was no urgent shouts, no vehicles moving. Nothing. The Mouth didn't even show any signs of a struggle. She stopped at the foot of the trunk, wordlessly looking at Chloro. It was hard to see what she was thinking, but she was unnaturally subdued. She laid a hand on its head and waited.
Gradually, the story came out, haltingly, about the Major and her lover. About the Major's dream of evolution, how profoundly it had stuck her, while Chloro dispassionately listened on. She knew how she must have felt in that moment, that feeling of overawing feeling of insignificance in grander scope of the galaxy. She could feel it too. After all, she was a part of the Mouth. She had been there in the mud with her.
She raised her chin, looking into the terrifying maw, the dark recesses, into the abyss and smiled, cracks spiderwebbing at the corners of her mouth. Everything. Is. Going. To. Be. Okay.There were so many analogies for ideas. The late doctor had spent a long time devoted to the science of these ideas, as well as the vessels that held them. Perhaps, toward the end, the panic and the frustration of the impossible task with an impossible deadline that he had been presented was what ultimately killed him. But he could say, with certainty, that ideas were indeed like plants. Or at least like seeds. Who would have known that conventional folk wisdom had at least a grain of truth to it? One of his favourites was a Felucian lore about a spore that could travel through space and take root on a planetoid. The best part was when it would eventually split the planet to distribute its seed again. Marching forward a few months. Chloro and the Mouth met up at one of the beachfront gelaterias. They weren't even bothering to hide nowadays and worse yet, the Major's monsters weren't even bothering to fight them. In fact, they mostly stayed clear of them. They had taken this as a temporary truce from the Major and had responded in kind by leaving Saarlan's real estate alone. To be honest, it wasn't all bad. The place was nice enough, with an interesting mix of people coming through. Happy holidays, citizens of the Empire. Have an ice-cream, for the Emperor.
Now, though, they were meeting with a monster of Major's, or more precisely, of Diva's that could well end Saarlan's tourist season.
~Aww, I've missed youu...Kuroro, wearing a summer dress with a wide-brimmed floppy hat, sauntered up to the somberly dressed Chloro and the swimsuit clad Mouth. The three of them were at an ice-cream booth, overlooking the sea. It was hot and sunny, a painfully cheery day. I've had to beg leave from her... Diva ...to come and see you both.
Oh, before we begin, I'm getting myself ice-cream.The barista went the same white shade of lemon that Kuroro asked for.
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The Major
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Also known as Sailor Titan
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Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Saarlan
May 3, 2014 5:31:46 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on May 3, 2014 5:31:46 GMT -8
From behind that metallic desk, the paler of the two did suffer the sensation of having her gloves pulled off due as much in part as the shock of having anyone reach out to touch her in months as it was due to the exhausting last few days which were spent sleepless due to work. It left Riplian rather haggard and the dark lines looked like China marker was streaked just beneath those dull, shadowy eyes. It wasn't until the auburn haired one reached down in order to kiss the slender, soft hands that the Major ripped them back, that countenance racked and flexed with anger so profound it could be read as malice. The evasion was carried out as though Tess' lips were searing hot coals that intended to melt chunks of knuckle. Standing up, the woman snatches back her gloves with darting movements before donning them while retreating into the furthest corner with the grace and cunnery of a reclusive spider fleeing from a light source.
"No. You have not been around for a long time. So much so that I can not distinguish if Tez is playing some kind of trick that is guaranteed to get her shot. And even if you are Tess, why should I be pleased? For you it is a moment; for me it has been two months. Only recently became used to living without you. Are you going to spoil it again and then leave? Don't. I am stronger alone, without you leaving and making me weak."
The words themselves were stinging, but the delivery was without the necessary conviction to make them believable. If she were less sleep deprived, she might have the defenses in place in a more effective, fluid manner. Instead, it's barely comprehensible and her own mind was a jumbled mess of past, present, and future. Turning away, the Major stares into a data screen at a retina burning range, trying to make sense of it with the power of prescription far sighted glasses and without, but the letters and digits would blur to fuzzy blue static.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
May 3, 2014 19:29:31 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 3, 2014 19:29:31 GMT -8
Anger welled in Tess’ chest. Her digits rolled inside themselves to form a fist and her breathing became labored. Many words, many sentiments, many coarse ideologies were fighting to push out of her mouth but she tried her damnedest to hold her tongue. She knew her lover was in a fragile state, and yet she fought so hard to keep the clichéd “I told you so” argument from beginning. It must have been excruciating to live without the one person in the galaxy that cares about you for any length of time, but Tess couldn’t help it. They both knew that! Not only was this unfair, it was cruel. Tess woke up without even knowing what day it was or how long she had been away. Couldn’t Rip see how stressful it was for her too? To go about her life with patches of time snatched from it? She was older each time she awoke, more bruised, and less aware of what her body ran away doing. She was never in tune with what Tez was involved with so to hold any crimes she committed against her was preposterous to the good natured half.
Tess wasn’t sure if her anger was justifiable. She knew how the sting of loneliness felt, but at the same time, she shouldn’t be treated like she was a criminal. She wanted to grab Rip by the shoulders and shake her until she saw things her way. She wanted to grab her by the back of the neck and smash her face in to the monitor. She wanted to throw everything off of the desk and claim her as her own. To Tess, it seemed the only way to get Rip’s attention was either through acts of violence or theatrics.
The newly conscious woman closed her eyes momentarily to quell some of the frustration that dwelled inside of her. With determination, she reopened her eyes and directed her steely gaze at Rip- she who hid behind a data screen. Tess strode to where she sat and with a swift open gesture, knocked the monitor to the ground. Her look intensified as she heard the static and crackle of motors and fans. Sparks shot out pathetically, not enough to begin a fire, but high enough to resemble a mini fireworks display. Before the haggard tactician could say anything, Tess spoke her mind freely:
“Leader of this planet or not, how dare you speak to me like this! I am your friend, your lover, and anything else you wish to call me, and as such, you have absolutely no right to treat me like some treacherous, ugh, usurper! I warned you about me! You know I can’t help my condition! How can you look at me and yell at me as if I chose to leave you? You think I would willingly leave your side? You think I wouldn’t miss the warmth of your breath on my hair at night or the contours of your body pressed against mine? You seriously think- don’t interrupt me!- that I could live a day, voluntarily, inside of my own subconscious, victim to anything my alleged sister is doing? I can tell you’re not well, so you’re lucky that I’m the reasonable one here. I know you didn’t mean what you just said, about getting used to living without me. You are not stronger alone, and you know that. I’m not stronger alone, and you know that. You’re the tough one among us, Rip. I’m the one afraid of my own damn shadow. I don’t know what my other half is capable of and you’re the only one who can keep her at bay, it seems (the fact that you’re still with me is proof enough).
“Darling, let’s go home. Lay beside me tonight and tell me everything that’s happened while I’ve been away. Whisper to me all that ails you. Let me soothe your thoughts. Let me tear away your grief and fill you with ease of mind and the confidence you seem to have misplaced. Take my hand, Rip. Let me guide you back to happiness. Well, you know, our definition of happiness.”
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Chloro
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Sparkle and glitter, gleam, glow - SHINE!
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Post by Chloro on May 6, 2014 9:15:50 GMT -8
"I've met the Major. I've listened to her "evolution". We're both..."
A white-gloved hand smoothly cut through the Mouth's hash of syllables. Kuroro didn't immediately fill the gap with more her sickly sweet sap. Instead, she lowered herself into her chair and took a moment to look at both of them. The Mouth gritted her teeth in impatience, immediately resenting Kuroro for her casual sense of superiority. She tried to start again and Kuroro looked away, leaving the Mouth flailing again. It was like talking to the Major all over again, the way that she effortlessly manoeuvered her into her own words.
"~Look at you, all worked up and excited about hearing about it. What's it like, to realise that there's something beyond simply blowing stuff up? You're just a gun and you'd whore yourself out to anyone who'd pull your trigger, amirite?"
It was nauseating. She wasn't even bothering to play fair, but why would she? Kuroro had been Chloro's first split, siphoning away half of who she was and sharing her pool of experience. Of course they didn't love each other. There was no love in Chloro to begin with, just as there was no water in barradium. And Kuroro had another advantage - she had a motivation beyond the base craving to expend power just because she had it. She had Diva's love of death. Kuroro smiled at the seething Mouth and the impassive Chloro. Ah, there goes her hand to that irregular patch of skin below her ribcage. Puncture it and pull the spool out to reduce a civilisation to the stone age again. She had one herself and having malfunction was the best thing that ever happened to her. She was forced to take on a purpose and escape her nihilistic fantasy.
"She's more than a paycheck or a scratching post. She's a lifestyle, but personally, one that I'm not into. Diva... mmm... she's different. Simpler. I'd so wish that you'd just have let her tear you to pieces. You would have been so happy there."
The saccharine was melting. Just as the Mouth couldn't stomach being around her, Kuroro had nothing but contempt for the mouthy failure. It was that special hatred that you kept for yourself. Looking at her was like looking at a mistake.
"But. You. Couldn't."
"You should go back to your suitcase and shut it, freak."
The veins in Kuroro's neck were bulging and visibly throbbing. The untouched ice-cream sagged and plopped helplessly onto the deck, followed by the cone. Wasn't it sweet that the Suitcase girl could finally have a body of her own? What was Chloro? Some sort of misplaced do-gooder, skipping down the yellow brick highway, systematically blasting it out of the ground, helping the heartless, brainless and gutless with bits of her own? The Mouth abruptly stood, leering darkly.
"I'm glad that we could meet, again."
Kuroro stupidly looked to Chloro and was about to find something snarky to say when a shard of tooth went through her sternium and her comment came out as a spray of black blood. But she still smiled. What was that for? She was a damn chevaliar and Diva's handmaiden. But she was feeling a trifle stupid. To expect Chloro to react in any other way, apart from onom nom nom nom kablooey was too far a stretch for her. Two further shots down her spine should have paralysed her if she was living. The force, though, kept her down.
"~What was that for? As soon as I get up, you are sooo dead!"
She was about to flick a gout of fire at the Mouth when she saw her arm disappear until the forearm into the Mouth. Then it was gone. She tried standing but found herself as weak as pup. For the first time since she joined Diva, she could feel the helplessness that went with being human and having a vessel that couldn't pull itself together. She felt sick. Like a fever. It pushed her down. It was an impossible effort to try and shrug Chloro off her as she pried her chest open and deftly defused her self-destruct. Why would they? It didn't work, did it? Besides, Diva could always rebuild her. Neat trick, but when she came back, she'd pick them both clean.
Then she felt herself being sucked into Mouth. She tried to scream. Thrashing now, she could feel herself rejoining her host. Her real host. Now she was looking for her self-destruct. Anything but that. Anything. Pull her arms off. Perforate her like a paper cup. Just don't let her become that thing that she hated. She'd lose herself, her accomplishments, her sense of self. Diva! No, she could never love her if she was a part of this hideous monster. The teeth crawled higher, effortlessly shattering her fine, petite bones. It cheated. This was never supposed to happen.
No. Please. No.
It was impossibly strong, enough to make her go limp and powerless in its grip. What had changed in that little lost monster called Chloro? Its jaw widened and Kuroro saw oblivion.
Diva, I love you.
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The Major
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Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
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Saarlan
May 8, 2014 6:11:56 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on May 8, 2014 6:11:56 GMT -8
Those that persisted on borrowed time, stolen time, tended to perish in an inevitably compete way, rendering themselves up to the alter of total oblivion. The harder they clawed, the more they resembled sacrificial offerings. Universe, Force, web strings: none of them seem to notice the passing of the undead. Sensors may have missed the passing, but the glorious bond of black blood was a sensitive thing, attuned specifically for the dark matter. Thus, from somewhere, comes a twisted type of resonance that struck the body and mind like a sharp, sick note. Malice abounds. Hatred marches, and it begins to leech itself upon the living on due course to investigate the scene of the crime -the source of its displeasure.
Meanwhile, in a bunker, down in an underground complex that crisscrossed as massively in scope and size to Saarlan, filled with horrors and miracles. In a room housed close to the surface, there was another person who persisted on stolen time. She was a horrible person. She thought, "You talk so much." Tess just seemed to have a way to ramble on and on, but luckily for her sake she had a meaty exposition detailing the reason behind her dramatics. Shattering the monitor like that.... it was something that tasted much too like momma's inane and destructive nature, back in times when little Rip had to study and evade, evade and be made scarce, and dread the days where she had to head back. The notion was depressing, exhausting, and brought back a great deal of chagrin along with that sticky feeling of hopeless helplessness.
The Fallanassi affixed her gaze on the broken components, perverting reality in her mind and instead envisioning the shattered pieces to be swirling together in a cyclonic maelstrom, whirling into a horrifyingly black eye that winked as it grew and consumed. It roars. Somewhere behind this mental play were the words of engaging entreaties.
Did her perspective even matter? How can someone so egotistical and self focussed be expected to rush back into the arms of a person that, regardless of autonomy, was absent for so long? She had gotten used to looking upon everything in a cynical manner and jaded flim filter in order to pass the time, knowing full well that this type of scenario was accounted for. Yet, it still wasn't any easier regardless of its anticipation. Was this feeling of depression worth considering or explaining? Maybe the lesson to be learned here was that no matter how close someone claimed they are, they just didn't deserve nor care about what was deepest in the soul pit. Caring about the details, that was the realm of the scientist.
Why did this feel like some bad dream?
"My head hurts." She lied. Then stopped herself from completing that thought.
"N-no. You have... it feels... I am not ready to see you. Had to look away from her face because it hinted and masqueraded as yours. Had to ignore it. Had to suppress the memories of us to survive not... And now you are here, yelling at me, pulling at me. I am not ready."
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
May 8, 2014 7:30:19 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 8, 2014 7:30:19 GMT -8
"Not ready?" Tess repeated, her arms going limp at her sides. "Rip... I know you're lying about having a headache. I can tell by your eyes. Can you tell me how long I've been gone? I'm sorry, but this isn't fair to me. You knew the consequences of pursuing a... friendship with me. I'm imploring you to be reasonable. You know I care about you more than anything in the galaxy and I want this to work. Please, let's go home and talk about this."
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Chloro
Member
Sparkle and glitter, gleam, glow - SHINE!
Posts: 1,083
Affiliation: Brushing, Flossing, Rinsing
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Post by Chloro on May 8, 2014 8:00:10 GMT -8
Ah ha hah ha
Chloro knelt on the broadwalk, knees together, feet apart, facing the sky. Covered in black gore that glistened in the sun, staining her swimsuit and sticking to her naked skin. There were still tatters of fabric around her and her better dressed half watched her chuckle, quite sedate about the entire affair. It was the laugh that someone made when they got a joke that someone told them yesterday. But it wasn't stopping. She was reknitting her mind. Once she had broken Kuroro's skull, she muffled the rest of her in with not much trouble. But there was something off in the entire affair. It was too much like Diva - the whole eating people business. Besides, that wasn't how she got her power. Still...
I can see it...
The girl in the suitcase, who now had a body, liked her the way she was before. She wasn't going to stop Chloro. That wasn't her part to play. She'd help her.
... the future ...
Even if it meant following her down the idea that the Major had railroaded her down because it was better than the alternative. She put her hand on the Mouth's shoulder to check if she had returned to this world. The Mouth stirred and shakily got to her feet. Everyone in the area had the good sense to run when they had heard Kuroro scream her last. The crunching was enough to even deter bystanders from hanging around. The entire place was quiet. No sirens.
Where. To. Now.
Down. I'm changing...
Their hideout was in the center of Saarlan, in the basement of the hotel where it all started. It was rather ironic that Rip and Tess were only a few meters above ground where they had been a few meters under. It took quite a bit of dragging to get the Mouth there. She wasn't doing too well. Her skin was coming off in chunks where the fireproof skin was growing. Chloro was sure that her organs would be shifting to accomodate their new configuration. There wasn't much she could do as the monster buckled and heaved on the ground, apart from hold her hand and tell her that she was there for her.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on May 8, 2014 13:41:11 GMT -8
Friendship. That's correct: they were supposed to be friends. That's how this whole situation propagated itself to the confusing, tightening, and liberating noose it was currently. Friends, it seems- but why exactly was Tess so intent on only seeing her return from her perspective? The auburn haired woman's words spoke of selfishness, focused entirely on self, me, I, and other such pronouns. Was she even awake during entire ordeal? No. Tess's personality was completely submerged while the more capable of the two maintained control. From the question, "Can you tell me how long I've been gone," it was obvious that Tess had no awareness of what was happening. Tez was correct: her sister was pitiful at managing her own situation- weak. The fact that Tess' weakness was something worth sneering at, and deplorable, caused a great deal of internal trouble for the Major.
What of love?
"You have been in latency for two months, three days. . ." The Markswoman consults a menu displayed on her data glasses' heads up display. Perhaps the accuracy of it made it seem like the Fallanassi was more obsessive than what was actually the case. Regardless, she confirms the number aloud, ". . . fourteen hours, and fifty five minutes."
That long? The Major had stopped keeping track after the month mark, suspecting that Tez would maintain dominance until her situation was resolved. So long. And yet, despite this, the more naive of the Bola twins maintained her indomitably in regards to everything focusing on her issue. That's right- Riplian now remembered that no one cared if a war criminal felt uncomfortable, blunted, or dulled by a sudden spring of freshness disappearing with equal haste. Ultimately, the soft kind of self imposed, temporal death of emotion was something that Tess here obviously wouldn't endeavor to understand. Thus, what was the point of revealing it? It would probably pass, forgotten when the shock wore off. After all, the Major was the unbeatable sociopath, wasn't she? Her internal distortions and erroneous preconceptions were like the rest of her ideas: negligible until strength gave them a voice that trumpeted. Unlike the more violent of concepts, though, the Fallanassi did something that she was brutally intelligent enough to instantly recognize: sacrificing this anger -what she knew was a reason to be justified in anger- to please a person. Not just any person, but THIS person. It felt wildly off putting and awkward for her own crushing logic to be submitting to such emotion; in fact, it almost seemed like deception, in a way. What made it worse was the fact that there was no clear victory or advantage to be gained in this move -save for the sincerest of hopes that Tess would move on and feel better for both of their sakes.
The Major was pretending to feel better and act compassionate -pretending to care.
But if she was pretending, then didn't it mean she truly did care?
The taller of the two "friends" shows her companion out of the room, before locking it down behind her, leaving the shattered equipment to be cleaned at another time. Riplian wouldn't speak on their way out of the bunker, no matter how much cajoling any party attempted. And like Tess had pointed out before their departure, what was happening inside that raven tipped brain showcased quite virulently in those shady, dank irises.
One long elevator ride later the pair emerged from a nondescript structure housed within the military base which held Saarlan's current complement of Reich troops. Evening now drew upon the town and much of the day's business was concluded. At this hour most of the soldiers and citizens would be either home or the boardwalk, enjoying the coolness of the coming night -especially after how warm it had been during the day. However, even they would find disappointment, for soon heavy clouds blown off of the massive lake had rolled in, and while they provided quite an intense visual during sunset -with their stark black and gray contrasting with reds, purples, pinks, and oranges from this planet's star.
Thunderclap. Air rumbling boom.
Drizzle.
They continued to walk in relative silence while the lanky freak gripped unto her musket with both hands, feigning that she was more exhausted than what was true as a pretense to not have the other woman reach out to touch her hands again, the Major herself feeling misery at the present -so far down that particular blender hole that her own thoughts would not allow freedom to think or see anything positively or with warmth. But, like a certain person was starting to understand, only something unique could smash through the layers of solipsistic, over-bored, sleepy thought process. The solution, it would seem, was a combination of mundane details that when put together create peculiarity. As though the heavens sought to reflect their moods and oppress them further, that at first fairly typical drizzle came down as a heavy, tropically inspired downpour -quickly, as though a faucet was engaged and set to open floodgate. Something about it struck as unnatural, not only due to the blackness of the clouds, the violence and closeness of the lightning strikes, or how dense each individual droplet of water was. The rain was freezing, icy cold. So cold, in fact, that the air itself seemed to become chilled and otherwise convinced to accept the intrusion of winter into the realm of summer. Standing beneath the torrent proved to be cold enough for the skin to detect it as piercing, and such was none too pleasant at first, until it litigated itself to an intense but tolerable downbeat.
Without any indication, or warning, or even reason, Tess's fingers clenched unto Riplian's right, rain slicked white gloved hand, and began to pull her into a full tilted run. Flabbergasted by the strength in which the recently reconstituted sister exuded in her grip, the bespectacled one nearly stumbled over unto her face but managed to spring into a sprint in order to keep up with the tendril of energy pulling her past cobblestones, courtyards and side streets. Why? Neither of them seemed the type to be skittish due to raindrops, regardless of what they were wearing, and yet it seemed like nothing else could be as correct as both of them running together in harmony towards a goal: the hotel -the skyscraper itself was close enough that they could catch glimpses of it under the the fog of shivering, flowing gray, poking out between the tops of smaller buildings. They were both now in shape, so while their combined breathing seemed to be the only other noise besides the ceaseless pattering, no dodge or weave between arches or pillars seemed to daunt them along their path; nay, not even clumsy stragglers running in opposite or opposing directions. And as they ran, Tess seemed to still have the layout of the town memorized, so she continuously chose the most intricate but shortest route over low walls, through still opened establishments and yelping customers, until they finally found a merciful combination of streets that were empty. It was within these stone flanked traverses in which the Major stopped caring about looking towards where they were going, and instead stared at the back and sides of Tess, copperhead tendrils popping with moisture from underneath the white ribbon, her gaze like twin points of steel glow -as unabashed and full of purpose as her words oftentimes were.
An epiphany of sorts revealed itself within the down turned and concentrated frown folded out by Tess. They were a team, a unit, and although Rip herself closed herself off in order to keep herself from nostalgia as a pathetic solution, Tess had not wavered in her own dedication. Despite the amount of time in her pseudo coma, despite how hazy everything, even when and where she was, was to her, there was one thing that remained steadfast and centered -her love. Meanwhile, the so called relentless scientist had all but given up on it, placing it into stasis so that she may selfishly survive without bringing any sort of discomfort upon herself. Suddenly, her earlier justification now reeked with an air of rotting entitlement. As a result of the stink, shame followed like a gut punch, causing her to suck in a gout of air incorrectly, adding a distinct sense of pain to the proceedings just as they cut down a tiny alley. How could she forsake something like this for something so fragile as the psyche? She should have suffered. She deserved to suffer. She should have been pining, loyally awaiting the return of her beloved instead of forcing herself into a stoic state.
But no more.
She would not repeat the same mistakes and eliminate herself from someone who even made the attempt to understand what she was as a person. No, not again. No more clawing in the darkness, or denying how willing she was to give herself and her passions into one acute vessel.
The hand Tess has been holding onto offers enough resistance to stop her in her sprint, and even has enough force to secure her from falling over upon the slippery surface. Turning, the affectionately nicknamed "Commodore" shoots a scathing glare over to her compatriot, expecting there to be some other dilemma that would no doubt waste both of their minutes. They could be instead accepting each other in privacy. Fortunately for Tess, she more or less was getting just that, just in spot that was less than private.
She spoke racked with something different: guilt. "You. . . you are really back. I am sorry. I told myself that you would be gone for so long that by the time you returned I would be strong enough to live on without you. I am so sorry for thinking like this. I am weaker than you. Less than the lowest forms of shit compared to you -a coward, a coward unable to even bear herself. I am so sorry for believing it was right to close off from you. It was unjust. Stupid. Foolish. Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive and pride will not come between us again -this I promise you."
The Major did speak some more, but the lines became incoherent as a number of ideals inside seemed to compete to be heard at a frantic pace. Whether the wetness streaming down her cheeks was due to the rain or due to this abysmal person shedding guilt ridden tears could not be determined, because both were colder than malicious ice. The gloves were more or less torn off during the speech, and of all places those bare hands could land, they lashed out upon Tess' neck. For a moment it would seem as though the Fallanassi had decided now was the time to end her friend's life, but instead of squeezing into a vice they moved up and down the sides of her face, feeling the contours of her jaw with a hunger that was reserved for something sorely missed -before the morbid scientist placed her now steaming lips upon her "friend's," holding her under the bone chilling rain for what seemed an eternity. Despite this, her soaked body provided a personal furnace for Tess, seething with lost ardor displayed hopelessly, wantonly, and without any sort of restraint. There was subtle violence in this passion, as the Major pressed the now trapped Tess into wall and brick, ripping open buttons off her field jacket, dancing her vapor sucking tongue along her Other's teeth, breathing so loudly it drowned out the claps and roar of the jealous thunder. She begged her for atonement, for acceptance. Now the auburn haired one was in some sort of trouble, for the pale faced freak now dropped any other useless items in her hands, and instead hoisted up her sorely missed "friend" up by the knees, using her own hip and thighs to keep this savoir trapped against the red brick squares, sighing, expelling more steam, melting, apologizing, declaring ceaseless empathy to the ensnared one's cause, regardless of what it would cost.
Riplian, for all intents and purposes, was more than happy, though outwardly morose, to pay that cost. Though, one might wonder if Tess was in any sort of danger, since now the Fallanassi had used her advantage to now expose the white collarbones and neck of her friend, lustily biting down and sucking upon the milky skin until blood was drawn through the pores.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
May 10, 2014 14:49:24 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 10, 2014 14:49:24 GMT -8
Many fragmented thoughts and sensations flashed through Tess' mind as her body was scraped against the brick wall: confusion; repulsion; unfairness; ardor; elation; completion. How dare this woman treat her like some insignificant player in her grandiose schemes then think it was acceptable to sup on her body at her own whims. How much more selfish could Rip be, only loving her when it was most suiting or "appropriate?" Despote how fleeting Tess' unjust anger was, she didn't have the strength, physically or emotionally, to push her away. Rip's lips and tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, and it was the most invigorating she had ever felt them. Tess raised herself higher against her lover's body, watching the fat cold rain drops slip down Rip's face and chest.
Tess grinned ferociously, feeling more alive than ever before. She began to laugh-subtle at first, then growing in intensity. This laugh let out all of her joy, all of her wicked lust, all of her intents of this relationship. Her hair was slicked against her face and mouth, a terrible sight to anyone else. She shoved her tongue inside Rip's mouth, reciprocating the force she was previously adminstering. Her collarbone stung, but it was of no consequence. Her hands traced along Rip's trachea, and slid inside the back of her shirt. She pulled against the fabric hard enough to hear the top botton's seam strech out and pop. "I forgive-" she said in between kisses. "I forgive you. Oh, Rip. I couldn't, could never, stay mad at you." With a gasp, she added, "I love you. I love you, God, how I love you." Lips apart, eyes nearly closed, Tess paused in speech and movement. She couldn't bear being outside any longer. It wasn't the rain, it wasn't the alley. She felt constricted here in soaked clothing sticking uncomfortably to her skin. "Let me down," she whispered. "Let's continue this at home." She helped herself to Rip's earlobe as she slid down, and once again led the way back.
They picked up their trek, hand in hand, with a much more clear objective. They arrived in the lobby of their hotel looking as if they had pulled each other from drowing in the town's lake. They closed their jackets to conceal how cold they really were, but hadn't noticed how much they had actually been shivering. They jumped into the elevator before the concierge had the chance to offer them warmed towels- they would have been denied and unneccessary, anyway. The elevator door shut.
A flurry of hands, another of tongues. More gasping. A stifled moan or two. The doors couldn't open fast enough. Ironically, they opened too soon.
Rip fumbled in her jacket's pockets for the door key. Tess shoved her hands inside her front pants pockets, hiking them slightly. Her lips played around Rip's neck. Rip breathed to Tess that she wasn't exactly helping. Tess replied that wasn't trying to help. Eventually the card key was found and the door was slammed open. It was just as soon slammed shut, and clothes began to be peeled off.
Rip and Tess locked eyes and simultaneously threw their jackets to the ground.Tess unbuttoned Rip's shirt with such a force the buttons were hanging by their strings. She knelt down to undo her boots, and then her own. She yanked off her own shirt, and softly pushed Rip to her bed. Rip sat at the edge while Tess climbed on her lap, legs stradling her lower body. She put her hands through her lover's damp hair, placing her face an inch from hers. "Does this feel right?" she asked. "I want to do everything you want to- with you, to you. Tell me this is what you desire. I want to please you, make you happy, make you mine, be yours. Let me always be at your side, let me die with you. Leave me, and condemn me to despair. Love me, and never regret anything you've endured. Rip- Riplian- lover, nemesis, herz. My anything and everything."
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on May 10, 2014 18:20:18 GMT -8
Those words resonated as a rumbling which shook precepts. Shaken, shivered, and freezing, the vibration passed as titillating temptation in the form of lips –freedom, Hell, ache, tipped touch. The rumble first clashed into the still rebellious spikes, wisps, and curling licks of hair –clashing at first until the pattern meshed, then harmonized into a tremble which traveled, sore, creeping, around the strands to that raven topped head. It shivered ever downwards, ringing through the face, pinging like tiny flares of fearful heat ever so perpetuated to the point of cold so profound it lacerated the body. Down, down, down along the nape, now shaking, down the wet locks, through shoulders, birthmarks, lumped and purple scars from useless wars; down past elbows which now surged, down arms which struck against inhibition, down into the very fingernails which could no longer contain the sweeping waves of desire. Held so long in check, repressed, ignored, prohibited, they roared in that sweet resonance that shattered the boundaries of what a single mind could manage to bear. A universe was dissipated with the treble in that love slicked voice. A planet followed along with the winking, fizzing stars smoldering black as the voice promised take and give. Dreams meandered into oblivion along with cities, towns, people, until nothing remained but the voice, her voice, Tess’ voice, signing this consummation with treacherous four letter words so often held in contempt. They were once curses, and the cause of headstones marking the finale of what such emotions wrought.
But not tonight.
To everything Tess had rumbled, to every spell and incantation she had crafted as she cosigned this affirmation up until this moment, to every action, every kiss, every caress, motion, motive, blink, tear, droplet, and breath, Rip needed only one sound, one utterance dispelled, to match this fervor.
“Oh?”
She said. Oh, she mumbled. Oh, she agreed. Oh, beckoning onward. Oh, mystical syllable hummed playfully, and then sung, then spoken. Oh, cooed as a single shot beginning the next, and the next, and the next. Oh, whispered, husky, as waves of desire lurched through the chest with pain swelling in two pinpoints against soft, white skin reciprocating the gesture. Oh, a sigh or gasp in between the contours of her salvation and ephemeral acceptance, as Tess stripped her partner until the chilly, offending, ever restrictive clothing no longer offered resistance; and her partner, the Major, her Major, returned the act until they both now laid bare. In her life, she had seen a great deal of corpses and soon to be corpses in various states of undress. They were cold in a way beyond the leaking, ever lost heat –cold in dehumanization, whether they be fellow living or dying soldiers, test subjects, diagrams, lovers caught trysting, or any other number of horrors or examples of normalcy. But. . . here the remarkable woman, once a stranger, split twin, mental fissure vessel, here she was laying in all of her indescribably glorious nudity. Proud she was, so tender, so compassionate, so filled with a nefarious sense of glee pure in its want. The Fallanassi for once had to admit that now it was she that was caught in the snare, drawn in by magnetism and charisma, drawn to the cult of Tess’ nakedness and of her curvature- arousing because it was not the sum total of what the auburn haired lover now exuding the nature of a seductress was, but just a piece of this drama, this persona. In the deviant, holy pleasure of simply staring and drinking in these details she could feel herself drawn into excitement as her own body began to betray just how absolutely it desired to mend into Tess’. With those once exhausted blue eyes, she greedily felt them tingle with a self-perceived brightness as they supped upon the carnival feast of carnality laying peacefully, momentarily, before her gaze. From the hallowed shadows that played upon that soft neck, accentuating the delicacy of those collarbones and the tiny bruise clearly congealing upon it, to the supple rise of her crimson tipped bosom, across the pale expanse of her stomach and the gentle bend than was dimpled by the diminutive button in its center, down in every line and muscle of every finger and toe as the limbs they gracefully spread from flowed and pointed to the budding sensuality of a single rise in the entire, geometrically pleasing display that was a human body –the mound of Venus.
The resonation of words was no rival to this unspoken language of subtlety spoken through the grasping of a hand, or the canted slant of a lusty eye. In all of it, the most appealing part of this intimacy was the discovery that the imperfections, or the body’s most unique properties, proved to be both erotic and charming in their exploration. This thought was so overwhelming, that even the self-deprecating markswoman could not focus on pouring shame into the movements of her own body. Instead she became so enamored, so sincere in wanting, that such limitations were sizzled away as the Fallanassi committed her mouth not to damage or spoken word, but an expedition. Searching across this realm defined by the borders of the bed’s edges, the woman otherwise referred to as the Major applied the alacrity of that overlong mouth to delving into the flavors that a woman named Tess could provide. She tested, learned, teased, and enjoyed applying different effects and relishing their pleasure stricken results displayed with a kind of feedback that found no equal in burning, slow excitement. This they continued, sponsored with a throaty chuckle or sentiment murmured until the rainy clouds outside hummed in lavender and rose –filled with light pollution bright enough to flare up their swirling faces which formed and faded as these two women revealed and gave out every bit of themselves completely and lovingly. This dissertation of true nature received a level of passion directly balanced to how truly violently each of those two lives had been.
Eventually, communication through the singular, turn taking lip streaked realm could no longer suffice to what they actually sought, and in the tepid night slicked with freezing rain drops striking in a steady rhythm against the windows, they flexed and pressed their bodies into each other. The configuration was not wild or without recourse, but deliberate, excruciating with hot shivers as they further and further blended into one body bonded and timed to the steady beat of their hearts as sharp intakes of breath. Their limbs began to snake and poke out through spread coverings. Soon, an ankle would rise up, raised by the chest or shoulder supporting it. For what seemed endlessly, they pulsated, moving as one until, in the midst of searching hand or arching back, they glistened with each other’s sweat.
So long they had lived lives of violence and selfishness, but this release bore with it the fruit of awakening. On her end, in the internal swell of violas stringing in an ocean wave swing, Riplian could feel the sum total of this rising, sore pain concentrating on one focal point from somewhere beneath. It easily throbbed through to the marrow, twanging with each of her lover’s circular declarations of affection back upon the quivering of a sonata. The furnace somehow was stoked further, melting, swooning, disintegrating the molten core of the now so pliable body- melting, melting, flowing, until her own self was expended in a sudden, racking seizure of every tendon, indiscernible from pain, inclined to throat sizing tingles.
She laughed.
She laughed and called out her lover’s name, and declared her a great number of things in singular outbursts of gushing air.
Rip laughed as everything inside poured out after dooming itself in a vise for much too long. Ligaments pulled taunt and ached. Sudden aftershocks of pleasure bereaved that war sculpted frame. The still yearning, superheated throbs completely decimated any further awareness in a torrent so profound, everything was lost. She laughed and laughed until her body could no longer make the strain to pull oxygen into her lungs, and thus she collapsed in a trembling mass, slicked with something from inside, slicked from something outside as well. It was blissful, but hardly the transcendence as lauded. Instead, it felt like dying, as though every ounce of vital essence was out poured into another dimension. All was lost for a great deal of time, and nothing could pierce the wrecked shell of the once vainglorious Fallanassi; so had no awareness of anything, not even herself, and this irrelevancy struck as something so much more little than any attempt at conjuring an aspect of the White Current. Whether another five minutes or another five hours had passed, she could not be bothered nor had the cognizance to recognize. However, at some point in this nonexistence, this beautiful state, she saw a pair of eyes filled with gray looking upon its work. This she recalled last, as her body responded to no further outside sources with a soft grunt before embracing unconsciousness.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 12, 2014 16:09:33 GMT -8
The naturality of the lovers' excursion left Tess in a stupor: her head felt light; her body hummed; her mouth was twisted in an upwards curve. She lay upon her side, catching her breath, amazed at how in sync she and her major really were. Simultaneous release? In their first carnal embrace? It had to be a trick! An illusion! But no, she felt a substance upon her that couldn't possibly be her own. A miracle? A fluke of fate? Oh, no. That'd be too easy. They were persistent and patient with each other. They took their time at some points, were delicate and passionate. They sped up at other points, creating friction, applying pressure until the ultimate liberation after the swell. Their gasps and grunts filled the room- a cacophony of pent up desire and longing. Nothing about their experience was accidental or unintentional, nor was it anywhere near cliché or expected. They were triumphant in their affections, proud in their mutual conquest. A night of many firsts and many beginnings.
Tess watched Rip fall victim to her exhaustion, unable to surpress a chuckle. Her toes felt cramped from having curled them so tightly, something that had never happened before during intimacy. She unfurled them, crackling heard from beneath the covers she shoved them under. She stretched languidly, looking towards the window. The rain continued to pour steadily. This moment would be a delicious one to think back upon.
Tess rolled over, nudging her nose against Rip's, testing how deep in to her satisfied coma she was in. Rip let out a barely audible snort, so that left one conclusion- pretty deep. The woman with the damp and matted auburn hair stealthily slid out of bed. She pulled the comforter over her feral vixen, who began to mumble inconclusive oddities. Tess then retrieved a pastel colored button down from Rip's closet, long enough to basically be knee length on her slightly shorter frame and sauntered dreamily to the kitchen area. She looked around for something to whet her dry palette, but her liquid of choice appeared to be in short supply. "Huh," Tess said aloud. She rummaged through their liquor cabinet, fridge, and atop any bits of furniture with a hard wood surface. "How could there be no wine?!" she continued to say to herself, utterly in awe. Wait a second- this had to be Tez's doing!
That bitch!
This was her version of cruel and sick punishment! Tess felt her stomach twist, remebering the taste of the last shot she had the night before her sister took over. Was that why she had taken over, and for so long? Was she a witness to her and her lover's debauchery and felt the need to stress that serious times were ahead? How embarrassing... but... No! Tess dashed to her ultimate hiding spot, sure that there had to be something.
A sigh of relief echoed against the checkered tiles. Tess stood up a bottle clutched in her hand. Her emergency supply was still untouched: she kept a bottle of Pinot Noir beneath the bathroom sink with a travel-sized opener. You know, just in case Rip decided to opt for a last minute bathtime bonding experience. Tess brought the bottle in to the living area, making a memo to herself to resupply her stash in the morning. She opened the bottle with minimal difficulty, and sat sideways on the love seat. She filled her stemless glass to the brim, reveling in the sight of her lover, the sound of the rain, and the bitter taste of the semi-aged wine. If this was how the rest of her life was to be played out, she would never want for anything else.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by The Major on May 12, 2014 18:23:29 GMT -8
A body was a remarkable thing capable of recovering from all sorts of exhaustion and wounding quickly and efficiently should nothing trespass upon its mending process; a remarkable body in peak physical condition was even more so capable. However, recovering on a dime shift from this kind of combined romp was just a bit of a stretch.
At roughly two hours past knock out state the brain managed to weave together a ragged collection of images that served as an excuse of a dream. It was vague, dark on the edges, and gray inside and out. There was skin. Smooth skin. It was hot to the touch. It touched. It buzzed. It also caused buzzing on the back of her ears. Oh, there was “her?” And ears? Excellent. There were shifting waters- then the twin shapes of a pair of buttocks, followed by the slope of woman's back. Whose back? Heat intensified, at first vaguely familiar until it was definitely something that had happened before, and recently. Her own body flushed at the sensation, at the tongue running concentric, spiraling circles down the inside of her thigh. What was this creature? How did it know to do such things? Stop. But it refused. Why should it stop, anyway? Its fingers traversed the landscape of sloping curves with the ease of black ink flowing along the current of gravity. At the thought of ink, the pleasant, beloved face turned to ink. This time the touch was cold, causing goose bumps to flourish. No, why cold? The heat of breath was nicer. Cold was common- this wasn't. Hands turned to more ichor like ink, and while this too was arousing, somehow it was also vaguely familiar; this familiarity was not associated with things that were pleasurable- it was death, vile death. Wait, this wasn't Tess, was it? Impostor. Liar. The ink spread outwards along her body, seeking out the choicest paths of egress into the marrow, and it brought along the rough pain of flash freezing. Help. Help? No. No need to help. It was too late; it was slicking itself around her face and choking down her throat. Soon it would be over. Her hands seek refuge, safety, an ending, forgiveness from the Other. They find a purchase of bed sheet and squeeze. . . .
Riplian von Shepardt was a person prone to fall asleep quickly, but her manner once involved in that natural recovery state was hardly something that could be described as easy going. Her body, once fighting back the stupor of unused endorphins, began to turn this way and that, even diagonally. Though it would be a foolish consideration, one might say that her hands and face were looking for something that the bed should currently contain. The figure sought out the heat, and the figure sought it persistently.
“Tssset. Tezzet. Teeettsrrrrrrrrrr.” She growled, at first seemingly satisfied by the temporary refuge found in the side of a pillow, before that brow bent and those hands pushed the technological marvel of sleeping prowess down and aside- going so far as to slowly bicycle kick the loyal bedside accomplice off the metaphorical cliff. Sleeping, Teeth Grinding Beauty then proceeded to lay face down in the covers, working up a slight sweat in overheated self-affliction. Rip managed to maintain comatose in that position (with her face cradled in the nook between her arms and elbows which were pressed together) for the greater of ten minutes, and then she quite ungraciously shot up with wide eyes.
They apparently were not very useful, no matter how far she spread them while searching for signs of her consummated lover. A glance this way; a shocked stare that way, and it was official: Tess had left the bed. It takes a few moments while she collapses back into a half wet and still moist mess, but it didn't take long at all for a number of hypothesizes to form up, each starting somewhat negatively until they became more crushing in self-deprecation and revenge. Why did she leave? Was she grossed out in hindsight? Did she fail to orgasm? The scientist had studied about that disappointment. The lack of satisfaction had a way of making a person's outlook awkward in a wash of unwanted hormonal buildup. Tess finally realized how disgusting it all was. The Major had been too forceful. It was against her Other’s will. They went too fast. It was only a few months. Tess wasn't ready. She couldn't feign that kind of adoration for another woman. She could, but the Major was too ugly for that kind of self-sacrifice. Maybe the slow, dribbling discharge of another person’s internal fluids proved too much as well. Having to deal with foreign substances like that on your body was too gross for the Commodore. Damn it. Curse it. They could have waited. Maybe if one of them was a man. Damn it. Damn damn damndamndamngottdamndamndamn, etc, etc.
So it was thought in that kind of headstrong and ultimately stupid way, since Tess was simply a roll over away from being in view. Perhaps the auburn haired one was curious enough to watch how exasperated, cross, and vexed the Major became in a very short time span. Again, the need to dramatize thought overbore better judgment, and someone in the room had to suppress a chuckle when the bed ridden one let out a defeated sigh and curled up restlessly. Grinning in that nefarious way of hers, Tess remained quite silent, using the sound of her pouring of yet another glass of wine as the trumpet call. This time, when the Major shot up and rolled around, she did not judge the distance from her vanquished self and the edge. Like the pillow, she too went over the proverbial cliff, landing with a yelp unto her face. The result did not have her explicitly embarrassed over the fall itself, but the clumsiness of not doing something so simple as to turn over sooner to reveal the rather voyeurist act Tess was committing. Flushed to a deep purple at this tiny but fatal logical leap, the grandiose Major remains with her face buried in the carpet, lips scratching against the soft fibers while munching out some words loudly enough to be heard across the room:
“I. . . deserve this!”
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
May 16, 2014 20:55:43 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 16, 2014 20:55:43 GMT -8
At such a crucial moment at this point of their romantic endeavor, Tess wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction could have been. She stifled a gasp when she watched her lover lose the battle against her comforter and assault the floor with her face, but let out a whistle of relief when she heard her muffled voice. Tess' body still possesed that slight hum upon the climax of her and her lover's previous excursion- no amount of wine could over power such a sensation. Odd enough, she was admittingly happier now that Rip was awake, but for selfish reasons; she was relieved to have been pulled away from the morose thoughts temporarily clouding her pysche. She was apprehensive of their experience and many doubts were gnawing at her: Did Rip enjoy their love-making? Was she good enough to satisfy her? What could she have done better? Had Tez watched them? Would Tez know about this the next time she came out? Was Rip attracted to Tez in any way? Is Rip attracted to other women or only her? Tess knew where she stood in that regard. Rip could have been any sex, any species: she only needed to be herself. Good or bad, right or wrong, self righteous or petty, left handed, one eyed, or even hated by the entire galaxy, she was still the only person who made her feel whole. Normal. Secure. Loved. Rip had restored the faith she once haphazardly wasted on people who were undeserving of her time.
Rip had to feel the same way, she just knew it. Why else would she have given herself so wholly, so tenderly, so wonderfully? She hoped Rip saw it in that light though...
Tess placed her newly poured glass upon the desk beside her seat and twisted her body to sit in the chair the way it was intended.
"I'm having some verbal difficulty here," Tess admitted with a sly smile. "I want to laugh, but I don't want to end up with a broken nose tonight. Rationally, I am honor bound to assist you, but this moment is just so endearing, I want it to last as long as possible- the full moon tonight is breathtaking. Heh, don't mind the pun." Still smiling, warmly now, she rose from her seat and reached for the midnight blue silk robe that still had the tags on it that lay on the opposite bed (Tess picked it out for Rip who secretly intended to return it). She heard the tags dangling, trying to squint in the dark room, unseen eyebrows furrowed. "Why haven't you worn this? What's wrong with it?" She asked, standing by Rip's sprawled legs. "What, is it too short or something? Here, turn around. I'll help you up."
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Saarlan
May 16, 2014 22:01:00 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on May 16, 2014 22:01:00 GMT -8
Something drew upon the woman planted face down as Tess made her little commentary. That usually sing-song, eager, and talkative voice was brandishing an extra dose of sweetness. Or was it bemusement? Wait a tick. That was nonsense. How could Tess mention the full moon at a moment like this? The rain was coming down with no indication of apprehension -this much was obvious by the mighty rhythm tapped out on the window sills and panes. Unless the proceedings had made that bright mind a little more mashed ---cut. Moon. Moon. Colloquialism. Tess was speaking informally about. . . Goddess.
"Oh Gott!" She squealed. Or rather, that was the closest thing 195 centimeters of ridiculously long haired, schizotypal, 84 kilogrammed, occultic slithering creep could come to emitting a whiny, girlish peal. It was more like a technical groan verging on the end of a guttural gasp. Nonetheless, Fräulien Shepherdt scurried like a long antennae firefly freaking out for some covering to not only hide the sudden infusion of redness on her rear end, but the ever deepening purple upon her face as well. As a stop gap measure the woman rolled herself like a crepe about the white bed linen, managing to cover everything from the nose down, except for her feet and ankles. Those always annoyingly poked through. Leering now at the threat of wearing THAT, the dreaded blue bathrobe. There was just something so unsettling about having to dress in something so... skimpy.
"I remember when you were terrified at my shadow when we first met. Now you think you can just... look at me when you want? Who said you can look at me? I do the observation around here! What, you think can take me and that means you do as you please? Cocky, now, are you? Came, saw, and conquered, eh? You think just because you make me feel the ecstasy you do you can stroll around here, naked in my shirts?! There are rules, and.... and, is that wine? Where did you get wine?!"
The Major shoots up in her sheet cocoon, eyeing back and forth between glass and Tess, and somehow that gravity defying curl bounces in wide spiral, nearly touching the inside of one of the Rogue thighs.
"I will do anything für, for, that glass."
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
May 18, 2014 18:14:05 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on May 18, 2014 18:14:05 GMT -8
"Who do you- what are you- I just saw- we already- ugh! I'm not talking to you right now!" Tess sputtered with a minor slur. She sharply turned away, robe clutched in her fist, but stopped short. She let out a breath before speaking again. Their moment of intimacy was something so divine, so perfect. How dare that woman compromise all sentiments of ardor and infatuation! She mustn't be allowed to spoil this precious milestone in their uncanny romantic exploits! Tess was determined to not let her lover's rotten mood dominate, nor submit to the harsh phrases fighting their way from out of her mouth. Nothing was worth arguing over, not now, no matter how hot headed and tempermental both parties could be. She walked to one of the various three toned lamps in the living area and switched it on to the second brightness. She squinted slightly and saw Rip do the same, their eyes adjusting to the artifical light. She retrieved the wine glass, and sat on her knees in front of Rip, who was still adorned in her makeshift toga.
"Why must you constantly be so combatitive and insensitive?" Tess asked in a forced softness. "Even if you're joking, it's hard to tell with that tone. If you don't like the robe, I don't care," she said, tossing it on to the place she found it. It slid to the ground at the foot of the bed and landed with a soft russle. "Don't say ugly things like that anymore, okay? You know, the conquering thing. I'm not some nymphomaniac who's been trying to get in to your pants since the day I met you. What we shared was more lyrical than that. We have a certain synergy about us, don't we? So likening what we did as just a random act of lust is unfair. And what do you mean, 'there are rules?' How ridiculous is that! We're a team, not, well, for lack of a better analogy, a general and one of her foot soldiers!"
Tess sighed, and started to twirl a loose lock of raven hued hair between her fingers. "Pardon the rant, but you need to develop a mind-mouth filter. And for the record, I look good in your shirts. So... You're welcome." Tess looked up and held the glass of wine to share with her blue eyed ice queen.
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