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 Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 5:09 pm
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
Remington Jagger Nott could not sate the hunger that still lurched within him, even though it had only been several hours since his encounter with the carnal red-headed mistress, he still found himself with an appetite for destruction. Surely, the bliss sparked to life by Murdoch, and those lips, would have been enough to satisfy any man- he somehow had this almost ominous dwelling blaze in the deepest chasms of his core. As if something was about to happen…
But Remington had to force a laugh at that, sure, the winding cobblestone streets lined with puddles of sorrow, regret, and whatever else misery of sickness, but it still didn’t mean that anyone would be like to strike him. No, not as he slithered from shadow to shadow nothing more as a ghoul in disguise already seeping with the rewards from his travesty. The sun still over loomed, hanging in the sky as a persistent vigilant eye, but the shadows danced a vicious show, igniting the extremities of paranoia to creep under his skin. Damn Alfons, he mentally cursed the man. But more importantly, that dream. It still plagued him this far into the day, it’s skeleton grip tightening in on his throat until he could barely breathe. But he did not panic, he could not panic, not when the eyes of monsters followed his every motion in the attempts to undermine his position in the underground world. Dark, dirty, putrid things covered in rags hung around the slums, discarded away in the corners, and watchful from the alleys.
A biting chill had caused him to quicken his step, pull the robes embroidered with the English Bullmastiff tighter over his broad shoulders speckled in freckles and hurry down the darkening street on the prowl for the bronze knocker that would lead him to the sanctuary of his shop, The Spiny Serpent.
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Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with his thoughts
Desires: Sanctuary
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 6:00 pm
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
The hollow echo of his footsteps would barely pierce the silence as he slithered on, forever trying to remain a distant memory to the world around him. And it worked, for the most part. The thoughts of his dream had enraptured him into something cryptic, not even the mysteries of the universe would compare to where his thoughts lay. Even during his youth, the thought of knowledge that others knew not was an enticing entity so profound that he furthered his life in that venture, always planning to stay just one more step ahead of the rest. It was his ambition in life, to know what could not be known, to see what was blind, to hear what was silence, and it began with her. Because she had twisted his soul, ripped it apart from him and he hadn’t seen it since. That woman, she was always with him- he could feel it. Nights wore on restless from haunted images of her, chastised thoughts of her always crept to the surface during the worst of times, and even now! He can smell her, the rich scent of bittersweet poison sat thick on his tongue as he swirled past…
Wait a minute, Remington had paused for a brief moment, swirled on his heels. No. He repeated the word, over and over, until the very foundation of the syllable had melted on his tongue and lost all of its ferocity. He took a step closer, and another…
Could that… Is that really her?
It had taken every ounce of self-control to resist the urge to reach out, and run a calloused thumb over the gentle caress of flesh of her lip, cup her face, just to be sure that it is really her this time. Not another dream, not another tortured fantasy. But he had resisted, successfully enough, but all of that mustered strength had been wasted which had made the compassion of shock and awe easily readable on his features. And how could he not? Around her, Krina, the demon from his dreams, he could not help to be anything but so. It had been those piercing eyes he had fallen victim to, had persuaded him, manipulated him, he would do anything for her; he simply couldn’t help himself. The haunting melody of her voice had carried him, enveloped him in a breath of security and guided him close to the shadows and far from the eyes of scrutiny. ”I’ve never kept you waiting,” he corrected her. Remington, in a way, had been seeking approval with those words as he subserviently beckoned to her tacit order and shrouding her further into his shadows. Finally, he whispered the words that had gnawed at his sanity for some time now.
”What are you up to?” Brash, hasty, Remington was clearly off his game, this surprise siege left him undefended, scrambling, and emotional.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: The Truth
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 6:22 am
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
No. No, this can’t be. Remington had never been more petrified, he had never been so careless as he was now. Any hope of mental deliberation would be lost on her, he couldn’t help it, but whatever affection that the malign man could harbor revolved heavily around her- until there’s nothing left but the passion she could invoke from within. When Remington had cast his eyes of imperious gold and avarice green on her, he hadn’t seen the truly despicable harlot for what she truly was, no, he saw her only as he ever wished her to be. And that, that was shrouded with obsession.
She pursued him, cornered him, her prowess slithered closer and closer, and instinctively, he had taken a short step backwards. His body knew what his mind did not, she was dangerous, more so than he would ever hope to imagine, and he knew that this- all of this- was ridiculous, even for him. But, all of this time, he could not rip away from her gaze, he couldn’t. An intoxicating allure had held him there, froze him rooted to the ground so that now all he could do was ease into the caress of her embrace, ivory fingers snaking along the scruff of his beard and tantalized him with the promise of something more.
A breeze rushed past, the biting chill corrupted his bones and plunged him into icy waters, deep, and his only hope for salvation would be her. The delicacies of her detail had come to life and shone out from under her hood, those penetrative eyes held him in a trance. Why can’t he resist her?
”Does the moon miss his sun?” He fired back simple enough, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere, the lullaby of poison guided him gently into a false sense of security, he couldn’t tell the difference, he didn’t want to. The promise of death beckoned to him immediately; lips of a toxic euphoria teased him, tantalized the promise of sweet warmth and enraptured chaos.
Around her, he was a different person. No longer was he the man with all of the answers, the man with all of the pride and none of the honor, the man with power. No, instead, he may as well have been thrown back twenty years, back to a time where he had her, where he had claimed her. Back, back before she had left him for Alfons.
The heat of passion swirled too viciously within, and this woman was so close, so devilishly close, he could feel her hot breath trickling up his neck from where she stood, leaning into him. The fingers at his side twitched, but not for his wand, they ached for her. Only a breath of wind had separated the two, Remington lost in an abyss that she had forced him into. Suddenly, as he always had when he could no longer bare another minute, he struck forward. Lashing out at her lips with his own, he claimed the promise of painted red as much as she would allow him, and never anymore. Icy fingertips burned around her wrists, he will not be losing her again. Not now, not so soon. His lips fought for dominance within her own, overpowering fear for desire, his enormous arms spread to lock around Krina, if she’d let him. He couldn’t let her leave, not again.
”Why don’t you stay with me?” He offered in one shuddered breath, his lips quivered, and moved out of the kiss just as a ferocious rush of adrenaline had tickled down his spine leaving only a frost bitten wake behind. The passion of lust held him loyal. And suddenly, he could no longer maintain the thought that she was trying to kill him, him and Alfons. All he knew was that she was here, with him, and not her husband.
He’s hopeless, he realized (and more than once) but he didn’t care! Remington Jagger Nott was a man of means, a man who took what he wanted when he wanted it, but he had learnt it from the best. Despite the reluctance, neither could deny that she had molded him into the snake of a man he is today, he learnt her trade, and he learnt it well. He knew the relationship they had was not love, not even in the slightest, but it was something he could never resist. He could never deny himself the temptation of her, he simply could not. The frigidity of his vice grip clutched around her waist had tightened, as if the fear of losing her again had settled in his core and left him naked, defenseless.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: Her
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 3:22 pm
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So wear me like a locket around your throat.
Ill weight you down.
Ill watch you choke.
╚══════════════╝
His desperation caught her, leaking into her like a sickly warm syrup through the mouth. Being soaked by the red walls of her lips. She expected it, she knew he would so it. Oh how beautifully predictable he was! The knowledge that it was only around her, only with her that his walls collapsed and the light of truth finally shone made her skin tingle all the more.
He was her greatest creation.
She pushed back, repeated the act he forced upon her and deepened the kiss. Opening his mouth with her skilled tongue. He had secured her wrists but she still fought him. Teased him and showed that whatever form of hold he hoped to gain on her was simply a dream. Her fine hands found his chest greedily and pressed on it, held herself to it. Played him to think she wanted this just as much as he did.
Remington scooped her up and held her in the air of their lash of passion and Krina bathed him in it. She collided their lips again more ferociously, breaking only for air for the second where she could see the flood of fear reigniting in him. She wouldn't leave, not will he showed to be such an entertaining toy. Their lips smashed again with a religious kind of zeal and she could practically feel the rawness of the rough man inside him. Meat uncooked and tender, blood so pure, but the soul still missing.
The demonic woman broke from him again, clasping his handsome face in her icy fingers. Practically clawing at the flesh.
"You want me all to yourself? That isn't very nice." she chuckled with the obvious sting to her melodious words. Tongue licking her teeth and eyes shining with the haunting of his own desire.
"You can have me for now," she reattached them. No delicacy in any of her passionate actions. They were locked again and she hit his heart with such force she could feel the tightness of his throat. Krina's fingers slithered down to it, feeling it twitch with all the emotion he so carelessly spilled into the woman he held to so desperately. Her fingers tightened and she carved out the veins with her painted nail, adrenaline flooding her mind and complete dominance moving her.
And she held him there. Naked in his vulnerability for her. She held him against the wall he always hit, that she always slammed him into and she smiled under his pained lips. Her kisses moved, thought the hold on his throat continued to tighten minimally. She ran down his jaw and over his scruff, reaching the ears that heard so may secrets and truths. Her teeth bit into the lobe and her tongue ran along the ridge.
"How long do you hope to keep me entertained?" The piercing eyes of green flashed like lightening and her face twisted into a dark smile, holding him still.
   
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 7:26 am
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
“You!” Emilia tore through his heart. “This is all your faul- NO! Don’t touch me!” She warned with a hiss, one hand held upright as if that alone would be enough to block the monster torn apart at the seams. Tears had long since lurches from her eyes of honey chocolate, stains were all that was left to tarnish her flawless complexion of an ivory pearl.
“Emilia, stop, this is foolish!” Remington swore abruptly, forced to duck under the impending chaos of crystal tableware. Overhead, the shatter of a china bowl had erupted a shower of glistening shards to crash all around him. “Emilia!” He had shouted once more, and then shielded his eyes of the next upcoming blow to the head.
Crash!
What had once been a gravy dish collided into Remington’s skull, its shattered remnant spilled below with the company of a splurge of blood to erupt from his forehead. He only took a moment to blot the thick viscous onto his finger to realize the damage that had been done, but Emilia hadn’t seemed to notice.
“You killed him! I TOLD you, Remy! I TOLD YOU!” She had shrieked at the top of her lungs, her words turned to mush against one another with the sob that had choked her, but it hadn’t slowed her efforts. In a whirl of pain, Emilia spun to snatch a platter from the ancient dresser that stored it and hurled it across the room towards her fiancé. “You were supposed to quit!” She had repeated once again, as she had for a thousand times now. “You were supposed to quit…”
Only sobs could be distinguished as she slumped to the floor, delirious, words continue to race past her tongue but Remington couldn’t understand a thing. After dodging the threat of the turkey platter, he rushed to her side, but she had only cursed him, spat in his face, and apparated away to leave him in the center of chaos, personified only by his presence. And now? He was helpless. Another curse was shot towards the sky just as the tip of his finely crafted leather shoe sent the dining table spinning into a wall. It hadn’t helped at all.
Hours, days, Remington didn’t know how long he dwelled within the broken spirit of his fiancé, his child, his grandmother. He never cared for Emilia, not like he had done for Krina, but Emilia had been her mirror opposite (and for a reason.) Emilia was his plan for sanity; surely, he would never fall into the venomous arms of her if he had Emilia and a son to care for, surely. Surely…
None of that seemed to matter now from where he sat in the corner of the dining room, his eyes of hollow gold still roaming across the shards of glass that sparked her memory when the sun hit just right. It had been his dying wish to rot in that hell for the rest of eternity, but, Krina had different plans for him.
“You’re still here?” A voice whispered from all around, crept over his skin and drifted past his defenses. It was her, he knew it was. The thought hadn’t comforted him as it once had, not in this broken state. He was glad for it though, maybe this time he’d see her for what she truly is- and nothing more.
But what he saw would only dig his grave.
Krina, it was her. She swept towards him from the hallway; he hadn’t even heard the door. Steps too silent had glided her down to her knees, Krina had never been more radiant, he noticed. She had never seemed brighter in his world of gray, and when she moved to strike, he had resisted, for the first time.
“Go away.” It was all he said, all he would ever say, but she knew he didn’t mean it. Her fingers tore through his hair, and for once, she felt warm, tender almost. Remington melted away. It was as if she had known, because the next instant she coddled him. It was what he needed after all, she knew. She held him close, pressed him down upon the comforting warmth of her bosom- as if she could make it all go away. He had never been more willing to curl up at her side. When Krina finally spoke, it had nothing to do with the events that had fallen him into this, it never was. She knew how to work him, she always had. Finally, the salvation he had been searching for all this time came.
“I can help you, my dear Nott.” She whispered her words of poison. “I can help you where your brother did not, and I can help you find those men…” She had promised and he had never seen such concern marveled into her features. She had left him, but she was here now- that’s all that matters.
“….okay.” Once the breathless word of contract had come to surface, he had never seen her look so pleased with herself. All of these emotions, he had never seen them before on her, could he trust that? He had never had so many doubts before, he never questioned her, and he never once ever assumed that she had been using him, until now. But even so, Remington had never been more willing to believe her.
When the crave of flesh against his own had been honored, Remington relaxed. He had, as every time before, often doubted himself as if his mind knew just who would take the pain away and replace it was something sweet, something numb, something like her. Like writing on the wall, Remington was damned for all to see, everybody knew it; even he did. The fact that this rampant beast viewed itself as second best to no one made it quite the sight to see, whenever he was around this dastardly witch. He crumbled, sinking deeper into a pit of facetious quick sand, while she’s standing back and laughing like hell.
Blessed with the promise of her, endearing, but oh so poisonous; Remington soared. That muscle of emotions wrenched in his chest, suddenly afloat on the sea of venom, the sea of her. His throat tightened, he couldn’t breathe, and all around the world faded to black. Lights, colors, people, it all burned to ashes when he was around her, he needed nothing else. And he couldn’t help himself when she complied, gave him what he had wanted most- herself. He couldn’t help but to swirl in place, holding her close to his heart- as close as she would ever be- before he gently set her on the ground with that signature smirk donned on his lips; as if he had won. When her lips had crashed on him once more, Remington had barely breathed out a devious moan, one that had pronounced him victor in this war they played.
When the creeping chill of her fingers snaked up his chest and when the absence of her warmth on his lips had dawned a realization that he truly wasn’t dreaming, he hadn’t even seemed to notice her jest. He hadn’t seemed to care. That smirk had widened, morphed into a ghoul of a smile that was reserved just for her.
”You can have me for now,” the sultry tease hadn’t gone unnoticed, simply ignored, he was already much to intoxicated by her to ever let her go now. He couldn’t breathe, but his lips stole hers with a feverish passion that had held every emotion painted in his eyes, the window to his soul. Love, and hate sat predominate forcing their opinions with the sway of his lips, rough and demure all at once. A passionate lust gently glided his tongue under the pout of her lip, begging for entrance rather than stealing it as he would for anyone else. A fear also crept to him, the flesh of his love trembled softly into the kiss afraid that she would vanish into the wind.
When she broke them apart, when Krina pulled away, Remington was lost. Emptiness shone within him, like he didn’t know what to do. But he knew what she had done to him, he knew the power she had, he tried to fight. He tried to fight it every single time, but every single time, he lost. But she was his! She had already said so, every muscle had tightened at this realization. He would not let her leave, not this time. His grip around her waist had tightened more so, jaw clenched, lungs frozen. What was she doing to him?
”Forever,” he whispered now, as he had whispered every time before. Each encounter meant another chance, another possibility that she would one day agree and then he could finally steal her away from Alfons- he would be the chosen one. Him.
”But you’re not going to stay long….” Remington interjected himself for the first time, the vicious steel of green and gold bore into her. ”Are you?” Not even that profound truth would bother him now, he was invincible with her- to everyone- except her. But none of that had mattered, because she was with him. And he was all but begging for the release that only she had provided, that burst of something sweet, something numb.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: Her
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 8:02 pm
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So wear me like a locket around your throat.
Ill weight you down.
Ill watch you choke.
╚══════════════╝
His thoughts were like honey to her. They pooled on his lips, making them sticky and so unrighteously delicious, and as she pressed harder and harder at him with the devilish passion, she fed off of it. Covering her tongue as she ran across his teeth and slipped down her demanding throat. It fueled her and she tightened against him, squeezing his mind further and ravishing in his memories of when she first twisted him so hard he received his first cracks. Came with perfect timing, perfect silence and perfect temptation and ripped him apart. Created him like a deity molding clay.
Krina slithered into him, as he himself held her close. He was so vulnerable and habit and dark temptation pushed her to strike where he was raw. She bit his lip, feeling the joyous light taste of iron on her tongue's tip.
"Nothing lasts forever, don't you already know that, my dear Nott?" a lesson he learned with bloodshed. A lesson that led her to him and made him into a monster that could never rise without the weight of its chains breaking its brittle bones. Only she held the key, regardless of what he told himself. Regardless of the dominance he felt with his many women and with the many whispers of rumors and knowledge. She was above him, so high he could only see the heel of her boot in the clouded mist as she pierced him with it in the eye continuously.
But oh, he loved it just as she did.
"So, better keep close what you have, for now."
She was tingling. All the thoughts were dancing and she couldn't hold in her teaming excitement and urge to cry with delight and clamp his trachea with an cold grip. He was so helpless and the woman he held to himself was pure poison that he knew had hurt him, that he knew would continue to bite into his felt until even the bone was burned. And yet, oh she could giggle like a school girl, and yet! He held her with such desperation as if he was Emilia. As if he loved her.
He was so darling. She delighted in ever moment she could torture him. It was sweet nectar.
A thought of Alfons passed and her green eyes suddenly darkened with a foreign emotion. One the Nott had never seen, one that lasted only for the pause of time for which a hummingbird beat its fragile wing. Krina forced herself on the man who held her again.
The depth of the kiss multiplied each time their lips crashed with the strength of thunder. Her own throat began to moan and her breath was rushed and shallow. Not wanting her lungs to be used when she could be fusing with the man's lips once more.
The cold, thin fingers that were trapping his throat rebelliously traveled down him. Teasing torturously they outlined his fit stomach and strong chest. Reaching down into the chasm of where she could feel him most excited.
"I will help you, darling Nott. I can help you fix this." her voice echoed in the defeatingly empty home of the broken man as he cried like a toddler in the shards of his past.
"Trust me. You always trusted me. Let me fix this, let me fix you." Her arms snaked from behind him and held him tightly. Claiming him and holding him like the chains he would soon enough feel always constricting his reality.
Her blazing hair tangled into his as she rested in the crook of his neck and nuzzled his strong jaw. Licking his ear. tasting her prey.
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 1:55 pm
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 ___________________,,-' { Arthur Zeek Doyle Findeler III }'-,,___________________ [ Slytherin-Alumni ; Unspeakable ]
[Enter from Knockturn Alley -> Diagon Alley -> The Leaky Cauldron]
There was a residual guilt nestled in the pit of Zeek's stomach that remained until he reached the stair leading to Knockturn Alley, but he could think of no way better to acclimate his son for the social-hustle that awaited him, then by putting him into the thick of wizard arcana. He knew his son well; knew how perceptive he could be when the chips were down. Thomas had the capacity to hold his own but nevertheless, a father worries. It would fill him with a darkness beyond reckoning to lose the last piece he had of Julia. The last link to the wife he'd lost; he'd destroyed. He would never willfully expose his son to the world Arthur lived in day to day. He was a remnant of Julia, and so had a responsibility to channel that beauty and radiance she carried; that goodness that always prevailed, and brought out the best in everyone. It was Thomas' responsibility to carry on her legacy not Arthur's; though he feared for the likeness they shared, father and son.
Zeek's thoughts lingered on their likeness as he decended the stairs, The mental imagery of a dark-headed version of his son standing on the cusps of this alleyway brought him to nostagia about his time at Hogwarts, and the slippery path that led him into his own oblivion. Never had a place exsisted in all the Ministry or any place Zeek had gone, that could compare to the splendor and grandeur of that castle. Stonework that brought new meaning to the word, mystery. His first year, he'd recieved the un-nerving but expected honor of being sorted into slytherin. His father was the example of pride when he recieved Arthur's first letter to home. The boy wouldn't bring himself to say in words, he wasn't thrilled with his sorting. Arthur had always seen himself as an intellectual, with no more inclination at breaking the flow of Order than Thomas was now, but it became clear to him in years to come why the hat seemed to overlook Arthurs wit and intelect for a much more daunting quality; mis-placed intrigue.
The dark arts; Arthur was living proof that Defence Against the Dark Arts could easily be a contributing factor in the joined statistics of Hogwarts alumni and Dark Wizard census'. From his first year, every facet of that subject tantalized his curiousity and mysticism to no ends, and by the time he reached his O.W.Ls, he not only knew how to defend against, but also how to cast some of the nastiest curses he'd ever heard of. Most of which, he'd learned in the forbidden section of the Library, rather than the approved boundaries of his Defence Against the Dark Arts class. In truth, he believed the rumors that the class was cursed; as so many before him, he had seen a new intructor each year. Two intructors came and went in his third year, though Arthur would be ashamed to admit, he might've had something to do with the first one's parting. Not that he ever told a soul. The concept of a curse intrigued him, and Zeek speculated that it had been Galatea Merrythought that cast the supposed curse on the position, since it seemed none since her retirement have succeeded in holding the posistion as long as she. Being one of many who had once taught the the Dark Wizard, Tom Riddle, a source of decades of grief for the ministry and wizarding world alike over thirty years ago; Arthur was just an infant when Voldemort's tyranny finally fell; she could've seen the connection between exposing students to dark magic, and the rise of evil in those over-zealous, and curious minds that eventually gave way to darkness. That notion, to Arthur, was as absurd, but he suspected it would've suited a deperate mind's reasoning. As a student, it was denial made him believe himself capable of examining the darkness without letting it in; now as an adult, he realized he was wrong... He had let that darkness in, the moment he had opened that door; the moment he believed himself mindfully capable of discretion in the dark arts, he became a slave to his own mis-placed intrigue.
It was why he was there, stepping through the stagnent puddles collected on the uneven cobblestone, as he neared the establishment of an old friend. He owed his position at the Ministry to what he'd accomplished as a student; he was an avid dueler, to no suprise, and it had been the public view, with all his interest in Defensive magic, Magical flora and fauna, and an aptitude for potion-making, that Arthur Zeek Doyle Findeler III had all the makings of an Auror, like the previous holders of his name-sake. Instead, the Ministry knew all too well the questionable depths of the boy's passions and sought to keep him in arm's reach, distracting him with enigmatic title and responsibility, in the hopes that Arthur would forgoe his practice of the Dark Arts for the alegidely honest work the Department of Mysteries possibly offered; it was a novel effort, that kept Arthur pre-occupied for a few years, but old habits were hard to break, as Julia paid her life in confirming, and now only the Department of Mysteries knew... No, there was no doubt in any mind that knew him; Arthur was obessed with researching, and by doing so, practicing the Dark Arts. The only real mystery was why he still retained that position, when lesser men might have seen walls in Azkaban for his crimes; It seemed an Unspeakable was doomed to unbreakable silence and absolute secrecy, even when things go horribly wrong.
Still, Arthur had work to do, which meant pretending like he didn't have work to do. How would he justify this visit? He hadn't seem Remington Nott since Julia died, and he recalled the encounter ended with Arthur waking up in the Hospital, nursing wounds from a curse. He doubted that the eighteen months since then had done much to ease the tension between them; then again Arthur knew Remington for the depraved swine he was. he might've let by-gones be by-gones, satisfied for the touch of another. Alive or Dead, he never deserved Julia, and the only thing that fullfilled Arthur more than his own daring and intrigue, was being able to open her eyes to his true nature; she chose Arthur over him, and that fact only served to exacerbate the bully-bullied relashonship the two shared as students. Arthur supposed it might have suprised Remy to see the kind of man he'd become in the time after Remy's tenure at Hogwarts was behind him, because he attacked the new persona with an all too familiar flair, once he had lost to the man, no longer the boy, at his own game. These thoughts continued to reverberate in his mind as he continued to walked the worn paths of Knockturn Alley, hood drawn, and cloak wrapped tightly around his figure. |
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 9:17 pm
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
When Remington sank into her, he fell like quicksand. The promise of constriction was a promised kiss, entangling him, suffocating him, until there was nothing else but her. Addicting, her kiss was very much the same, and at times, he often forgot the distinction between who was who. In his world, they had melted together as one and nothing could have separated that, not even Alfons. And then, all at once, the tease of her lips and the curves of her waist, dominance on her tongue and demand in her touch, he was addicted. No other word could describe the dependency that befell him, not one. When the familiar taste of salt and regret reached his senses, Remington couldn’t help himself as he smiled and a sudden brilliance of manipulated euphoria reflected against the gold. ”No, you’re wrong Krina, our names can live on, our triumphs, our legacy…
“This could be our chance.” That whimsical laugh erupted bold as lava, trickling past his lips with the undeniable charm of sweetly laced poison; he had learned that from her, after all. It had seemed as though nothing could hurt him now with his arms trapped around her waist, holding onto what he could never have with such blissful ignorance. But he didn’t care, he learned not to. Years had been spent to try and capture this fleeting woman, gone before she was ever here, but even so she had always been there when he had needed her. And he had always beckoned to her call, despite the day or hour.
This was the very woman who had even led him to the humble arms of Emilia, that could not be doubted. But after Emilia and even during, he had taken refuge with this damnable witch releasing every ounce of pent up rage against her, sparring. Remington had never come to win a duel against her, but that was never his hopes. Krina was the only at the time that had been aware with his curious disappearances, enigmatic acquaintances, questionable knowledge…
Before her, he had been an ornery man, within a constant duel and gambling away his soul, but after her?
He was no less than a monster, no more than a beast.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: One last chance
╚══════════════╝
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 9:53 pm
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So wear me like a locket around your throat.
Ill weight you down.
Ill watch you choke.
╚══════════════╝
His words were frozen rock.
They slammed her and the passion, the nirvana they were reaching. The joy that was bubbling in her and giving the all-too-real threat of bursting from her. It was all gone and she wanted to rip him apart.
Not in the shared exactly, in the rage and fury and demonic flare of what he had just returned to her.
His words were right, their names could have lived one, their legacy could have been written in the tomes of bloodied history.
All of his words, the chance of which he spoke, hand once been within their grasp. But he had slipped.
She had created the ideal opportunity. One to strike at and kill swiftly. Win everything. She had created it, set the plans. She had given him the honour of the committed action!
But it had been him, Remington Jagger Nott, that had lost their opportunity. Had lost their chance, had lost everything! All the promised power and all the promised glory.
He had been weak and he had caused the downfall of the plan she had flawlessly created.
"Kill him! You know it needs to be done, Remington!"
"Your brother, yes, but a traitor!"
"He didn't look for the murders..."
"I did!"
"Kill him!"
Krina had ripped herself from him and for the second where her murderous thoughts flashed in her demonic mind, her eyes glowed like wild fire with rage. She wanted to make him bleed. Punish him for failing then, punish him for daring to ask for a second chance now!
She wanted to see him truly suffer and squirm and cry and bleed and beg under her hand. She dreamed of it.
How she wanted to twist his emptiness into oblivion. Make him regret everything, regret existing.
Her mind held her. Krina stayed and her eyes and fury faltered. Her mind intervened. paused her just as her fingers had begun to tense up on his chest. She had a plan, she had a goal, and as pleasing as seeing him die with all the misery and pain that she had spared her other victims, she would have to re-schedule.
"And what, my dear Nott," she whispered, returned to the devilish witch he had held in his hands before he had spoken those blistering, cursed words. Returned to the Krina that lured, but did not kill. But not, returned to him, still separated. Cold and gasping, like a bullet hole." makes you believe you deserve a second chance at that?" she slithered and hissed. Teeth bared in a smile that seemed to open hell and eyes that flashed with such darkness it was amazing that they still seemed to glow in the dampness of the Alley.
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 11:02 pm
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
Those nights had once left him in disarray, battered and bruised, the thought of Krina was oxygen to the flame and he licked at her existence as greedily as any fire could. But he was different now, he was sure. But he hadn’t even been aware of the chord he struck, Remington had never been able to invoke the same sense of elated paranoia that she had done for him. And if he ever had, he was so damned by her that he had never even noticed it at all. Even when her presence seemed tensed, and when her sights seemed strained, in his eyes, she had never faltered. The resolute glimmer of defiance sat in abundance in the ferocity of gold strangled by green, and that pride sat adjacent his smirk even when his estranged lover had lashed out at him, soft ribbons gently caressing his neck and steadily, ever so steadily, getting tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe without her permission, without her will. He was much too proud to ever admit he had been at fault, ever since their youth, it had been an understanding that if he was ever wrong, it should go without saying. There were rare times when Krina had decidedly tested his limits, and she abruptly discovered just how tightly he could recoil from her breath of illusions. ”I wont fail you.”
But there it was, sure as the depth of darkness within him, he decreed his faults as an open canvas. But there was something more, there was always something more, and it would hit the surface with full force as it always had.
”We weren’t ready before, but this time, it’s different. We have contacts now we never would have dreamed of, Krina, there’s even someone that can take the blame for everything…
“I can’t do this without you.” Remington was quick to insinuate that he wouldn’t do this without her, this was their plan. A vice grip constricted her; the robust results restrained Krina from movement as he snaked around her form, ready to kill, veins bursting to explode with the amount of self restraint required to not break what he thought was his toy. The dangers of being denied what he wanted was seeping through, but he could never hurt her, and that was what had always damned him. She need only ask, and he would fall on his knees for her, ready to die for her, ready to kill. If she would only ask.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: Her
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 11:22 pm
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So wear me like a locket around your throat.
Ill weight you down.
Ill watch you choke.
╚══════════════╝
He continued to test her muscles from depriving him of air and watching him squirm. Her brilliant mind wondered where he had found the gall to continue speaking. How he had gambled and seemingly chosen to play the most dangerous game; angering her.
His eyes and the string of his stupid words told her he was unaware that he had just stepped where few had stepped. None of which were still living. Lungs crippled. All in graves and mourned. None-
No.
One was.
She mentally shook herself and dispelled the thought. Her fury was spiking even more that he had a second time reminded her of her husband. He alone had survived her wrath. And now, being reminded of the fact, she could very barely retain the tight self control to keep him as the only one. His throat looked like paper to be crumpled.
but she had a plan.
She had a purpose for why she had gifted herself to the roughed, pathetic man once more and allowed him to bask in his desperation.
"You will have to prove it, my dear." Krina leaned closer, painted lips teetering on the precipice of the man once more as he held her with false dominance.
"Because I was ready," she hissed and spit venom, the cold but kindly voice slightly faltered, "You were not. Prove yourself to me."
With one more lean toward him she connected them again. Fused them back with fire and they spilled into themselves continuously. The light of the street flickered as they grew together and let their passion seep into the air and their moans tighten the reality around them. Until she again broke away.
"Where is my wand, Remington?" she cooed like a mother over her young in the crib. Her voice so hellishly resembling that of one who had a heart and the capacity to care and to love. A light kiss planted on his cheek to fester.
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 11:55 pm
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That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
Draining him of his life, Remington could only watch, helpless. The shattered remnants of his soul felt whole around her, it was as if whatever wretchedness that still plagued her spirit could blend with his in perfect harmony, a haunting melody for all to hear. He had never seen his obsession falter, because she could only be perfect in his eyes. It was the mysticism she had over him; an illusion had forever blanketed his heart that it blinded his eyes from anything else. Lips parted to speak, but he found no voice to rise to the surface.
He couldn’t breathe…
”-yes, my dear, but not you.” Remington’s bite of laughter was suddenly caught in his throat and he dropped to his knees at once, the clatter of his fallen wand rolled away from him. He writhed, crumpled on the ground and gasping for a hint of breath, even a tease. But Krina didn’t care.
Their duels had always been a mock ritual of the display in her dominance over him, that carnal deviations whispered something to tickle down her ear as her wand remained fixated. He couldn’t breathe.
“Kri-“ Remington had managed, but it was all he could do while his fingers curled together, carving into the hardened earth below him, digging his own grave. Not even a scream could have afforded to leave his lungs, his vision had gone white, but he could faintly make out the point of her boots and its each impending step closer.
“Kri-“ He gasped, but to no avail. The seeming dawn of innocence had wrenched his features into something wicked as he constricted into a tight ball, just trying to breathe.
All at once, the plague had drifted. Her smile sat wretched. “Not I?” She mocked him with a smile so sweet, he tasted candy in his mouth instead of iron blood.
The memory of her test patience spun him tightly as he visibly flinched under the thought, but he tried to mask it with motion, so he drifted away from her, from the kiss that had sent him reeling under the train. To be honest, he had barely registered her voice against the ghost of her from inside, only barely able to comprehend the ferocity within her. A spirited new brash kiss had washed him with the comfort he needed, and large calloused hands lifted to grasp the sides of her face, entangling fingers within her hair.
”It’s gone,” Remington admitted carefully, quietly, fingers still tightly holding her. ”But I can get you another one.” He added just as quickly, the glaze of gray had finally departed with the last memory of her as he plunged deep within her as he had had the pleasure of doing so many times before. Even now it was clear, he wanted nothing more than to ravish the feel of her flesh under him, to steal her in a way that not even Alfons could. The carnal lust remained despite it all, wanton and hungry, he was the beast that she had deviated, untamed and reckless.
╔══════════════╗
Location: Streets of Knockturn Alley with Krina
Desires: Her
╚══════════════╝
I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care
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