InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I only celebrate achievement."

Lord Vaako (lord_vaako) wrote in mirage_rpg,
@ 2008-09-28 15:55:00

Entry tags:

complete, day 17, lestat de lioncourt, lord vaako, richard riddick, yvaine

Who: Vaako, Yvaine, Lestat, Edward, Riddick (Posting order?)
Where: Art Gallery
When: Afternoon
What: Come on and rescue me! /Aretha Franklin
Rating: R to NC-17 for sexuality and violence
Status: Complete

The man who had once been the First Commander of the most powerful and devastating army in the history of his universe, Lord Cylus Vaako, was barely holding onto consciousness. He could barely hold his own body up, even propped up as he was against the wall. He had a very dim view of his surroundings, but found that he was barely able to keep his eyelids open. His head hurt. That was odd enough in and of itself, given what he was. Necromongers barely feel pain.

He'd never felt anything like this, actually. Or not in so many years that he could barely remember what pain felt like. But then, in all the years that he'd been a Necromonger, he'd never allowed himself to go this long without the Purification. It was wearing off, that must be why he was feeling this. Damn it. It really wasn't all that convienant. Why now? He could have done without the splitting headache.

Of course, blood loss could have been a major part of it, too. The vampire Lestat had most definately not been keeping his hands to himself, nor his teeth. That was a good part of the weakness that the Necromonger felt, he was certain. Each and every time Lestat came to him, Vaako was convinced that somehow, this time, he was going to fend him off. And, predictibly, each and every time he failed, the vampire took what he wanted, and left him weaker than before.

Even worse, really, than the horribly intimacy of the vampire's touch, was the fact that he couldn't stop him from doing that, or taking any number of liberties with his body. There was a girl here, too, somewhere. He hadn't been able to talk to her. He didn't know what condition she was in. He couldn't, in fact, concentrate on very much at all. Really, it was all he could do to hold on to the semi-consciousness state he was in.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

fallen_star
2008-10-23 08:48 pm UTC (link)

Yvaine swallowed hard. This wasn’t amusing or fun or anything pleasant for her. She simply wanted it to end. She wanted her strength back. She wanted her dignity back. Now she knew how those people felt when a single event stole away their pride forever… Almost…

Suddenly Lestat’s face was filled with agonized fury, and she felt the warmth of her own blood mingled with his saliva coating her face unpleasantly. What did that matter, though? That disgusting leech was unhappy, and he was in pain. His torture was her doing. Perhaps this was why people sought revenge. It felt so wonderful. Even at this, she managed to shimmy herself in a way that allowed her unmentionables to be covered beneath her skirt once more.

A smile crept over her lips even as her blood steadily disappeared from her face as if it were absorbing into her body. Only the residue of the bastard’s saliva glistened on her glowing visage. Indeed, a new sense of strength was returning now that her blood could recover itself at a faster than it was taken from her body. Even her glow increased to a degree of which would almost make one think she was happy, but this was not joy. This was a satisfied glow, a vicious glow.

At first she was confused, but the sight of such a verminous wretch in pain- knowing she had caused that agony- had filled her expressive features with a dark glee, as dark as one who shone as a star could get. However, while she was tied up, and there was nothing to do other than watch helplessly as a pallid hand snaked around her fellow captive’s throat, she began thinking.

From the sky, Yvaine had seen vampires, but they weren’t common. She knew one thing, though: they were purely nocturnal like herself. However, the sun didn’t harm her, it harmed them. Her father was the Sun, though she had never met him. Her mother had had more a hand in the creation of the stars than the Sun. The Moon had raised her daughters night after night. They owed everything to the Moon, so the Sun was little more than an afterthought. It was no wonder Lestat hadn’t pricked it from her mind. She never thought of her father. He was little more than a distant cousin in her mind- hardly even that.

Her eyes turned briefly to Vaako, though they did not stay long. She couldn’t have Lestat thinking he was a part of the deception any more than he did. However, her face warmed slightly when she looked upon the other victim, and she did successfully read his lips. Yes. They were both going to be quite all right. The same could not be said for the unworthy-of-pity vampire, villain turned victim.

A wickéd grin spread across her cheeks, even as that damnable beast threatened her. Crystalline blue eyes turned toward their captor. “It is a pity you could not have known my origins better. Perhaps you will be more selective with your food choices. Even leeches like you have allergies to specific foods; sometimes you do not even realize it until you have had too much. You have drunken from your last celestial being.” Her tongue dripped with acid, though the vile amusement she felt at his plight was evident.

Suddenly, many things at once occurred. A man burst in carrying weapons and shouted a word, Vaako burst free of his chains and suddenly had broken hers, too. She leapt to her feet, moving behind Vaako quickly, lest Lestat lunge at her. True, this man had also played the part of the victim, but in the vampire’s agonized state with two larger men- one strong with all of his blood pumping through him- it was unlikely that she would be harmed so long as she couldn’t be reached before the men reached him.

Suddenly a grunted growl of sorts sounded in the air, and a priceless statue made of thick stone was hurtling through the air toward the unfortunate- but no longer ignorant- Lestat. If one were to look beyond Vaako’s shoulder they would spot Yvaine breathing heavily at the effort it had taken to lift and throw the peace of art that had once been displayed upon its now empty post. “I hope my blood makes you rot, you coxcomb!” The evening star shouted in a most unbecoming way.

(Reply to this)

(Read comments) -