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Tweak says, "Batskates!"

Armand (vagabond_child) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-03-14 19:11:00

Entry tags:

armand, arrival, complete, day three, schuldig

Who: Armand and Schuldig
When: Day Three, early evening
What: The Vagabond Angel Child of Satan wanders into the Underground
Where: Near the entrance to the Labyrinth
Rating: NC-17, clearly.
Status: Complete

It was all too much. The small televangelist who had somehow gotten a hold of the icon held it up, and Armand saw the very face of Jesus blasted into the fibers. Dora, her name was, but he didn't really care about that. She could have been anyone. The veil was the important thing. Just a simple piece of white fabric, but the face of the savior... Nothing he had made in his mortal life was anything compared to what the woman held in her tiny hands.

Of course it would have had to be him, the Brat Prince Lestat himself, who had gone down into hell itself. He'd brought the Veil from the very grasp of Satan. Armand couldn't stop staring at it. His mind slipped back more than five hundred years to when he'd been the one creating religious imagary. He could smell the paint. And then, to see that his best work was thrown in the mud when he was kidnapped, and he had failed. He hadn't protected the icon. He had allowed holiness to become tainted. In a real way, he would never forgive himself.

This one, though, was a million times more precious. A real relic. Not made by human hands. So many had said that about his work, but it had been him all along. This one was the real thing. The sun was going to rise soon. Any sane Vampire would be safely inside by now. But though Armand felt the drowsiness of the coming day, he didn't seek a resting place. Instead, he stood where he was, on the steps of a church, and waited. Amadeo, he'd been called. Beloved of God. He would become that again.

It had been so long since he'd felt like this, that there was anything in the world worth sacrificing himself for. So long since he was last filled with this religious feeling, this faith, this hope. It was overwhelming. But it left no doubt to him what must happen. He was evil, the Veil was good. Therefore, to sacrifice himself to the power of the icon, that would be a good thing. It was the only tribute he had left to give, his immortal life. He would give it gladly, with no regrets.

His eyes hurt. The sun was starting to lighten the sky, though it hadn't made its appearance yet. It wouldn't be long. He looked to the East, waiting. Others pulled at him, told him to stop, but he pushed them away. Soon enough, they had to go into their resting places themselves, and left him alone. Only mortals would see him die. But, since it was to them that the world belonged, maybe that was fitting.

As the sun crested the hills and sent it's first rays shooting to the steps of the church where the vampire stood, he saw his first sunrise in over 500 years. How nice, that he would die in beauty. His skin started to smoke, and the pain shooting through him was unendurable. But he did endure it, and even somehow remained on his feet. The only unbearable thing was that nothing was unbearable. He was going to die, nothing could prevent it now. His pain would be a tribute to the holy relic.

Something was wrong, though. Flames should have been shooting out of his skin by now. He'd been so sure his death would be quick. But the minutes passed, and he just smoked, blackened, but didn't burst into flames. His wild mind, crazed by the warm, early-morning sun, remembered the story of Those Who Must Be Kept. Put into the sun for a whole day, and they survived. He wasn't going to die. He was too old. The Blood was too strong in him. He had made his sacrifice, but God, it seemed, did not want him yet.

He fell onto his knees, screaming in denial. He'd come here to die! His sacrifice had been rejected. But not by everyone, it seemed. Maybe the sun didn't want him, but someone did. A burst of golden light shot out of the sky, illuminating the vampire, and when it lifted, he was gone. To a mortal watching, it would have just seemed another miracle. They had been quite common since the Veil had been brought to earth.

Armand, however, nearly passed out. An unusual thing for a vampire to do, but he wasn't fully himself from the sun. The light, he was sure, was God's wrath shining down to kill him after all. So when he found himself deposited onto soft grass, his skin still smoldering and blackened, he was shocked. Was this hell? It really didn't look like hell. And it couldn't be heaven, not when he was in so much pain. There were walls nearby, but the air here didn't taste the same as on earth.

He'd landed on his knees, but fell over onto his side. The sky was darkening here, it had barely set and it's rays still stung him. It was nothing compared to the mass of pain he was in. He had walked through fire, and survived. Why? So many questions, and all he could do was lie on his side. Tears came to his eyes, but he blinked them back. He didn't have the energy to cry, as much as he might want to. So instead, he tried to focus his mind, tried to make himself think. Surely he could figure this all out, despite the pain, despite his body being burned a pure charcoal black, if only he could make his brain operate.

Where was he? Where had his sacrifice taken him? Who had rescued him? Why? He needed the healing blood, and yet, all he could do was lie where he was, on his side, still smoking, and in pain. So much pain. When he was approached, he didn't even notice at first.

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sweetlikehoney
2009-03-24 03:59 pm UTC (link)

Schuldig gave a sharp gasp, almost a whimper, really, and his arms enclosed around Armand, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Whether it was a reaction to hearing his name so sweetly cried, his true name, and with such emotion, or whether it was a reaction to the pain from being bitten, it was hard to tell.

He began to move up into Armand, moaning at the pleasure he was receiving from seemingly all directions. The tight heat and friction around him, their two bodies, Armand's warmed from the sun and blood and his warmed from the passion, moving together, these, even when they seemed all the more intense with Armand, for reasons he couldn't understand passed knowing that there was far more emotion and connection than he'd ever experienced, he was used to.

And then, the images and sensations started up again, and Schu started the loop again, and soon he was lost, crying out and then biting down on Armand's shoulder to try and muffle the sounds he made. He couldn't decide whether to focus on the physical or the mental, and so he did both, feeling the movement of their bodies just as intensely as Armand's pleasure from drinking from him, from the loop of euphoria, and from being fucked, with abandon. It became less himself and Armand and more them, one combined unity, locked together in hopeless ecstasy.

He wasn't going to last long, at this rate. It was too powerful and too intense. He couldn't remember when exactly he started murmuring Armand's name, intermittent with swearing, but he did, sometimes a moan, sometimes a cry, and sometimes almost a sob, more and more desperate and urgent as time went on. "I can't..."

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vagabond_child
2009-03-24 07:46 pm UTC (link)

It was all a big, confused blur, but in the best way possible. By the end, he had no idea where he ended and Schuldig started. It all seemed to mesh together, his teeth penetrating the redhead's neck, even as he was, in turn, penetrated. If it wasn't the most incredible experience of his life, it was way up there.

The mental aspect was what made it so different, he supposed. This was a human, who had all the qualities of a human, plus he was a telepath. Games that could only be played with mortals could be played with Schuldig. Games that could only be played with telepaths could be played with Schuldig. So, in the end, the whole package was compelling... not that Armand was thinking on anything near that coherent a level.

He couldn't speak out loud, but then, he didn't need to. His mental voice was available, though somewhat blurred with passion. Wordlessly, he let the other telepath know that, yes, he knew that Schuldig was close, and that he was close too, so that was more than okay. Words could have made it awkward, but this was graceful, almost.

The sheen of blood sweat had broken out over Armand's face, making him look flushed with the reddish liquid. Without warning, he thrust his fingers into Schuldig's mouth, making him taste the blood that was coming from his pores, wanting to share this in some way. And then, with his fingers in Schuldig's mouth, Armand came to his climax. The waves of pleasure swept through them both through their connection, and the vampire almost forgot himself in it.

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sweetlikehoney
2009-03-29 06:32 pm UTC (link)

The way that pain and pleasure and blood and sex all mixed together with vampires was amazing to Schuldig, and it seemed Armand was helping him bring out a part of him that really, really liked it. So much was new and that he barely thought about what else the vampire might do, but he definitely wasn't expecting fingers in his mouth, and the taste of sweet and salty blood, or to find it so damn erotic.

And then, the was the rush of pleasure from the other, and Armand tightened around him, and he was gone, giving a muffled cry around Armand's fingers as he came, his own orgasm rushing through their connection and adding to Armand's.

The intensity was overwhelming, and when Schuldig finally came down from his high, he was panting deeply, his head falling back to rest on the wall behind him. The exhaustion from being fed on twice, the adrenaline from fighting off a vampire, and intense, passionate sex that was not only physically, but mentally taxing, had finally set in.

"Mmm, sleep, love." He sat up one more time, kissing Armand surprisingly sweetly, in a way that he would not have if he was fully conscious, before rolling them over and only managing to curl up with Armand, pull up the blankets, and then fall asleep.

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vagabond_child
2009-03-29 07:40 pm UTC (link)

Oh, right. Humans and the sleep thing. It was, of course, still the middle of the night. Armand was nearly useless during the day, but didn't need to sleep at night. Which meant he had all sorts of time, now, while Schuldig slept, to go explore. He still hadn't fully processed what was going on here, and now would be a good time to look around and see what was what.

Only, he found that the last kiss that Schuldig had placed on his lips seemed to linger, and though it would have been very easy to break out of the human's grip, he didn't seem to really want to. He rose up enough to look down into his sleeping lovers face and tuck some of that long hair behind an ear affectionately.

The realization swept over him quite suddenly, and he shook his head slightly. "No, that's Lestat's thing, not mine..." But it was still true, he realized. And so soon. He sighed and settled back down, nuzzling his head against Schuldig's chest and just lying against him. He didn't sleep, of course, but simply just studied what he was feeling.

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