Tsesaria De'qiray

[*NightWisp]

Amarthiel looked around the dark room, the sense of dread crept up her spine but she had to comeÂ… had to see him again. This was against everything she believed in, everything she stood for. Her mind was screaming for her to get away, to leave while she still had a chance. But she did not listen, she NEEDED to see him again.
She heard him before she saw him “you came… MY angel. I told you you would”. That teasing and playful voice with its dark undertone, his voice a strange mix of mockery and fascination and was there something more? She had always been good at reading others, knowing their intent before they did but not with him. His voice made the hair stand up on the back of her neck but it also sent a chill down her spine like electricity tingling in her groin.
She had never felt like this beforeÂ… But she had come to say NO, that what had happened would never happen again and that they would part tonight and she would never leave mount celestia again.

He came out of the shadows standing his 2.18 m. His upper body was bare with the runic tattoos caressing his broad chest, lazily wrapping themselves around his crimson red skin. On his back was folded a large pair of batlike wings seemingly torn and shredded. His piercing yellow eyes felt like they were looking right through her into the dark corners he had awakened in her soul. He had a mischievous smile upon his lips that make his eyes seem to flair with a dark desire and hunger… A hunger that scared her more than anything. A strand of his long silvery white hair with the dark streaks, had fallen down over his eye and she wanted to reach out and hinge it back behind the pointed ear, brush along his ivory colored horns… She shaked her head slightly to get the images out. Was he smiling? As if the images was placed there by him? She could not help but to cringe and he burst out in a playful laughter after which he said, “So defiant.. even now.. Fascinating”. His long whiplike tail was darting behind his ankles.

Untaramar regarded the angel, he had spent millenias pursuing this beauty standing timid before him. At first it had started as a game, just another holy being to corrupt but she was not like the others he had corrupted or killed, she had resisted his every attempt, both his charms and his skills in combat but she kept coming back. The thought of her enjoying their encounters thrilled him, a feeling he had not felt since he was a very young demon and had started his path of tutoring through fear, the sound of their screams. Oh how he would love to hear her screamÂ… again.

His eye ran over her as she stood there in the dim light of the tavern room. Her large snow white wings, her long platinum hair and her large sparkling sapphire eyes filled with such innocence it made his manhood twitch and the hunger stir in him. She was not dressed in her blinding white armor; a white so pure and bright that it hurt his eyes to look at it, seeming to glow even in this darkest of nights. Nor did her hand she grasped the silver sword with its golden runes etched on it that seemed to move and glide along the flawless blade. When she was in her armor she was a picture of perfect beauty, and deadly grace but this night
she was wearing only a simply elegant gown to hide her body from his view, but he remembered every detail as if it was scorched into his memory; The feminine curves of her body, her slim waist and rounded hips that lead to those long legs. Her full breasts with the rosy buds, almost tasted sweet to him and her firm heartshaped ass that fit perfectly into his clawed hands. He remembered the thrill of seeing the blood trickling out onto the golden hued flawless skin as smooth as silky.

They regarded each other for a while no one saying anything both lost in their own thoughts.

That was a long time ago now, when time was still new, when the darkness and the light had hard drawn linesÂ… Now everything was gray or was it?

Tsesaria looked at herself in the mirror. Her appearance like most of her new kin; stunningly beautiful. Her slight frame with a curvaceous and lustrous body; light and inviting.
Her body was taut with muscle. Her waist tiny, leading to beautifully rounded hips and long shapely legs. The long dark hair pooling down her back like a mix of petroleum and blood. Her iridescent white eyes, set deep in the perfect pale oval of her face, surrounded by long dark lashes. Her full blood red lips that almost seems black as her fangs are slightly barred in a mischievous smile.
Her skin a fair purple in color and smooth like silk. The scars on her body, not visible to the eye but she could still see them, whiplashes, cuts, bruises and burns, all healed now leaving her skin flawless. And on her back a large pair of black feather wings were folded. Her appearance and clothing perfect and flawless to behold like always. She remembered the change from her former angelic self, so pure and bright, to what was now looking back at her in the mirror. As she had come to enjoy the torture, love his perverted games, her appearance had changed slowly but undeniably. She was now the fallen one; a dark angel, another denizen of evil.

She felt him watching her... always close physically or mentally...

Untaramer regarded the dark angel as she looked upon herself her natural aspects implied a feminine but feral grace and her aura showed a bearing befitting with the highest of status. She held an almost predatorily stance as she walked proudly with agile catlike moves towards him. Her demeanor sometimes made her seem distant almost arrogant, but he knew she was mostly teasing and playful of nature.
She looked young in body but something in her eyes betrayed a wisdom of ages past.
When she opened her mouth to greet him, her voice was like always soft and alluring her words always sending a pleasurable feeling down his spine. “Good evening my master… What do you wish of me this night?”
He had won their battle millenias past but she had changed something inside him. He might have made her fall but they had both changed equally. She was the one he had kept at his side, she had never just been a toy or a slave. Their long battle and her strong will had made him work harder at corrupting her than any other and it had become an obsession made him do things he would never have done; made him give of himself to get her.
As he looked into her eyes he still saw that spark of defiance and he still knew that he would never truly break her. But did he even want her fully broken anymore? Why would that thought not give him any pleasure?
To inflict pain was all he knew and still it was his one goal.

Tsesaria had been his slave but not for long as she had quickly become his student with a lust for pain rivaling his own. From student she had become a master of the art and a constant companion. The closest he would ever come to a mate.

Memories flooded her mind as she looked at Untaramar remembering that night where everything changed.

Waking confused to the sound of water dripping. She werenÂ’t able to open her eyes at first because they were crusted with tears. She didnÂ’t even remember crying. The second time she tried to open them she met with more success though she might as well have kept them closed. The cave was dark almost pitch black.
It was dark and cold. And damp. Very damp. The place felt earthy and she didn't like it. It made her feel cramped.
"I see you're awake my dear," said a voice from the darkness.
A candle suddenly burst into life, all on it's own.
The face of the demon was suddenly visible. Candle light flickered over his face ... his perfect face. Perfect except for his eyes. Hunger and evil stared out from those twin yellow orbs. They burned with a bright yellow light and they looked hungry.
She backed until back she was pressed against the rock wall.
He gave a little smile, as if amused.
"My dear, you have nothing to fear from me," he said, his voice comforting, like a priest giving a confession. He sounded understanding, and calm ... he sounded like ... safety?
He began pacing the small cave. The candle still flickered, making him look like a big black shadow going back and forth.
Back and forth ... it was hypnotic...
He suddenly spun around.
"I know," he said. He reached for a whip that hung on his waist. Quick as a cat he sent a whiplash down the side of my face, fire igniting it.
He was smiling smugly. "That sting a little?"
He was laughing now ... a deep and somber sound. "We are going to have so much fun" He was beaming at her as he stood in front of her, with eyes glowing with glee.
Then something in her head snapped and she spun on her heels and she punched him with all her might. But it was no use, on this unholy ground she was weak and he just sent her a wicked grin before he punched her and sent her flying backwards into the cave wall again dropping straight down onto a stalagmite.
There was a wet sound, and the pain was excruciating. Her torso was impaled about the sharp rock. She heard his dark chuckles.
Blood slicked the stalagmite, and crimson was spreading onto the dark cave floorÂ…
She had only had the “pleasure” of being impaled once before. And that was on a battlefield during the Dawn Wars, when a lord of the abyss had run her through with an unholy sword dipped the blood of sacrificed angels.
Needless to say, landing on a stalagmite was nowhere near as dignified. The pain, however, was excruciating. She blacked out and when she came to he was standing in front of her and shaking his head chuckling overbearingly. “Foolish… look what a mess you made”
She tried to move around the rock, making her groan. Nothing, it was firmly stuck. She looked up at the demon feeling the anger burn in her eyes but for some reason she couldn't help laughing, even though most of her diaphragm had stalagmite through it. "You think this will break me?." She said with a sneer. "You will never have me fall again.. i would die before you hands touch me willingly.. demon!" She spat between moans of pain.
The candle had almost burned down. Leaving the cave in a faint orange light. Water droplets pattered down the rock walls. It made her shivered for some reason as cold did not normally affect her.
With one last effort she pulled herself free of the stalagmite, however, her weak knees promptly deposited her onto the cave floor. She grunted as her back met the ground.
He looked at her with a smug expression. "You know, for a angel you're pretty patheticÂ… I had come to expectÂ… more" He teased as he snapped his fingers and a pair of bright silver manacles with red pulsating runes were around her wrists, they had a chain leading from each wrist and were attached to a small metal ring bolted into the wall above her head.
"Get me out of this unholy place and I will show you pathetic." She said, trying once again to get her footing. She managed it this time. But she leaned against the cave wall to catch her breath.
She looked down at the dinner plate sized hole in her stomach and it suddenly made her coughed, and spit up a large amount of blood.
He turned his head slightly so he could make eye contact. His yellow eyes pulsed with displeasure.
"Oh, I'm sorry my lady I would not want to ruin a perfectly polite conversation," he said. He apparently hadn't lost any of his sardonic charms.
"Sorry," She replied. I could hear the irony in my shaking voice.
He smiled, "Don't be like that my dear." He said mockingly.
She blanched. "Why?" She demanded.
He paused. Then a big canine grin appeared on his all too perfect face.
"My dear," he began, "tell me you do not enjoy being down here... with me." His smile was positively evil now.
She did want to be close to him and he knew it ever since that nightÂ… that one night. He had gotten close and under her skin. His charms had this one time gotten to her. The kiss had caught her off guard. The rest of the night he had awakened her most deep and dark desiresÂ… Desires she had not known she could feel.
She put her hand against the cave wall to steady herself trying to shake the images of that night from her mind.
She glared at him ... And it almost made her throw up again. The demon was practically giggling.
"Let's try not to do that again, my sweet." He said playfully. "This cave floor is already filthy enough," he said, eying the circle of blood around the stalagmite.
She was beyond furious now.
"Fight me demon!" She screamed. She was balling her fists and carrying on like a little girl ... but she didn't care. He knew her dark secret; her sin and she wanted him dead for it.
The demon grinned almost menacingly as if he was reading her mind. He walked over and collapsed into a black armchair. A chair that she was sure hadn't been there before. He put his head in his hands.
"This is more trouble than I thought it would be," he said with annoyance in his voice. “And it doesn't seem to please me nearly as much as I had hoped, to inflict pain upon you…”
"Why? Am I more effort than you thought I was going to be?" She growled..."Don't want to put up with me anymore?"
He looked up at her with his burning yellow eyes.
"No, it's not you," he said. "Though you're certainly not behaving yourself."
"What then," She said sarcastically.
His head returned to his hands. "Well it seems I want you to do this willingly" he said in a monotone voice.
"Never" She spat through clenched teeth.
"Such a shame" he said as he rose to his feet again and walked over to her and opened her manacles “then what need do I have of you”.
He leaned back in his chair and glanced at his defiant little price. She was crouched in a corner, staring at her feet not saying a word. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaving her free to leave.

Untaramar was in her mind and the memory sparked his own...

He awoke to total darkness. The cave smelled foul. Blood and vomit had mixed in the air, creating a putrid odor. Water still dripped from the ceiling, and the cold was fierce and biting.
He stretched and yawned. He felt muscles uncoil as the fog of sleep temporarily lifted from his mind. He held up my hand and concentrated.
Red sparks danced across his fingertips, sending a lurid red light dancing across the cave walls.
He quickly turned my attention to the squalor he had to endure while his magic was depleted. With a sweep of his hand the blood and vomit disappeared. With another wave he removed all stalagmites. He wasn't taking any chances with those pointy bastards seeing what they could do.
He then focused on making the place more livable. He replaced the cave floor with a plush black rug. Created a dinner table and chairs set with silver plates and cutlery. In the corner erected a marble fireplace complete with fire. Then he moved his comfy armchair so that it faced the hearth. Finally to round off his new luxury accommodations, he created a king sized four poster bed, with red silk canopy and red silk bedding.
He stretched again and threw himself onto the bed and sighed. No matter where he was he always created the same room, with the same furniture. It felt very ... comforting.
He yawned. The fog of sleep was resettling
He was tired enough to sleep for a year and still not completely recovered, and with his new furnishings he felt very contented.
Very contented indeed ... He gazed at the crackling hearth as he drifted back to sleep, with flames dancing before his eyes.

As she was leaving the cave she felt a strange pull and her body seemed to defy reason. She wanted to run away butÂ… she also wanted to see him again. The closer she got to the entrance of the cave the harder it was for her. When she stepped out into the darkness of night every fiber of her body was screaming for her to return to the cave. She walked until she could no longer deny the burning agony in her body. The trip back was horrible. With every step she took she felt like she was damning herself. Her footsteps grew heavier and heavier, and she felt like a great weight was being pressed down onto her shoulders. As she returned to the cave it had to her great surprise changed, but that was not what caught her eyesÂ… Sprawled on a four poster bed was the demon. His silvery hair a tangled mess around the ivory colored horns and over his perfect face. He was shirtless. His body was well defined, and his crimson chest was hairless. She edged closer to him, trying to get a better look. While sleeping he looked utterly harmless. With his taunting yellow eyes closed he seemed more like a boy of eighteen-years, rather than the mid twenties-year old she had mistook him for. She slowly reached out a hand, and brushed his hair out of his eyes. His eyelids fluttered, but he stayed asleep. He was so beautiful.
She quickly realized what she was doing, and yanked her hand away from his face.
This was getting out of hand, She thought. She was starting to feel like a mindless animal lusting for this vile creature, and the first thing she was doing was starting clucking over him like a mother hen.
She made her way through the opulent decorations to the fire place, and eased herself into the the plush black arm chair. She gazed into the hearth.
The chair was warm. Either from the fire, or from ... him.
The latter gave her goose bumps ... and that worried her.

He woke with a start. He had been having the most erotic dream. The dream starred a white winged beautiful. It had been a gripping fantasy. A sheen of sweat covered his bare chest.
He was almost sorry he had let her leaveÂ… Almost. He rose from the bed, and summoned his black silk sleeping shirt. It materialized around his body.
The cave was warm. The fire had burned down to a low ember, setting the cave in a calm dim glow.
And there she was in his chairÂ… He blinked.
There, curled up like a cat, was his little angelic price. Her platinum blond hair fell in disorganized waves over the arm of my chair. Her slim delicate face looked stunning contrasted with the firelight. Its dull light played off her high cheek bones. She looked innocent, she looked peaceful. The sapphire eyes that looked upon him with such hatred were closed.
He watched her for a minute. Her breathing seemed to get faster. Her cheeks flushed, and her bosom was heaving.
With a wave of his hand another black armchair appeared. He turned it so it would face the sleeping angel.
All the while he pondered the most entertaining way to kill herÂ…

Consciousness returned to her slowly.
She stretched out on the black arm chair, and sat up. The room was warm, but the fire had all but gone out. A few smoldering coals provided nothing but a dim light to see by. A faint outline of a man was visible.
Sitting on an identical chair was the demon. His glittering yellow eyes were trained on her.
"Glad to see you in the land of the living," he said sarcastically.
She blushed, she couldn't help it. "Umm, good morning," She said awkwardly.
He smiled.
"Actually it's evening, my sweet," he said lightly. He continued unabated. "So, why did you come back?" He said with wicked glee. "I thought the little fairy that came and visited would have spirited you off to the land of eternal sunshine...? Or are there currently no vacancies?"
His words rang in her already muddled head. She could feel her body's' desire to give him an answer, even though her mind was loath to describe her situation.
She never saw him move. But suddenly his right hand was around her throat, and her legs were dangling in the air.
"I'm going to ask you again," he said. "And I will be very displeased if you don't answer me."
Her mouth started moving, even though she didn't have enough air to talk. He set her down. "Try again," he said.
“I cannot leave… please tell me why?” Her voice was pleading as she looked into his yellow eyes and saw surprise turn to grim satisfaction.
The beautiful silver haired man returned to his seat, and put his chin in his hands.
She curled up on the chair again, and watched him like a dog watches its master.

“I was not sure what effect our night together would have, but to it mortals become physically dependent, they body is forced to follow our commands. It seems you might have a lesser version seeming as i cannot control you… yet…” He couldn’t help but grin wickedly at how pleased this made him feel.
She blinked rapidly, looking confused up at him.
She curled up into a tighter ball on the chair, and hugged her knees. As he regarded her he noticed then how dirty she was and the faint odor of musk. He winched his nose and concentrated as a red glow enveloped her body
She looked down at her clothing in alarm. The blood soaked clothes began to change ... the glowing red cloth twined around her form like a serpent. When the change was finished, she looked like herself again with a little personal twist.
The clothes had changed into a frilly black and blue satin outfit, with frills and a built in corset.
In his moment of generosity he had also fixed her hair. The matted tangles that her platinum blond tresses had formed were reborn. Her hair now fell in silvery curls all the way down to the small of her back. He had also made her hair a bit longer, but he didn't feel like it would be a bad thing.
She was looking at him shocked ... then she looked down at herself ... she touched her outfit, her hands dancing over the smooth silk. Then she reached up to her head, and felt her smooth curls.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked, her voice holding an edge of suspicion, and confused.
He smiled. "I take it you like it," He said.
She nodded slightly."Yes" she stuttered, "thank you..."
He gave a courteous nod from his chair. "My pleasure my lady," He replied.
He read for close to an hour, till his attention was once again taken. She had begun to fidget. He could tell she was working up the courage to say something. He still didnÂ’t know why she stayed with him even though she was obviously terrified and he didn't send her away because he would enjoy killing her later.

She remember asking a quiet simple question but fearing the answer...
"Do you eat?" She asked. His smile turned dark. "My dear, it would be best if you didn't know my eating habits. I eat some strange things..." he said mysteriously.
For some reason, she desperately wanted to know what he ate.
"Please tell me," she said.
He smiled, and held up three fingers. "I can eat three things," he said.
"One," he ticked down a finger, "I can devour the soul of a human."
"Two," another finger went down, "I can consume the flesh of any sinner"
"Three," the last finger descended, "I can drink the blood of a willing host without sin."
She was slightly uneasy about his answers, but they raised more questions than they answered.
"Why would someone allow you to drink their blood?"
He sat back in his chair. "One wish," he said. she was confused, "Meaning ... what?" she asked
He smiled and rolled his eyes.
"Meaning I am compelled to use my powers to grant a desire of theirs that is within my abilities."
"Oh," she said. She paused; her mind continually scolded her wayward body for even contemplating this. She looked up at the demon. "I want you to drink my blood," she said and was pleased to see him double take in shock.
"Really, do you have some wish that you want fulfilled?" He asked mockingly.
She nodded.
Suddenly he was standing right next to her, on her side of the long table. He was holding a silver knife and offered it to her.
"You have to cut yourself," he said. "I can play no part in the breaking of the skin."
Without giving herself time to think about it, she cut across her wrist.
The demon was eying the blood hungrily. "Now say these words," he said. "I freely give my own blood to fulfill my own desires."
She repeated his words.
His mouth descended upon her wrist so quickly that he was a blur of movement. She felt his lips latch on, and began to feel him draw blood from my body.
The first draw stung, almost like a bee sting.
The second draw felt like a warm fire after a cold day.
His third draw from my body bordered on ecstasy.
She began to writhe and moan under his iron grip on her arm.
Her mind was delirious with pleasure ... all she could do was wait for him to take his next sip of her blood with baited breath.

Her blood was like liquid pleasure slipping down his throat. His ears were pounding,
Finally, he tried to take another sip, but no more came.
Her corpse was still in his arms. Her cut wrist dangled between them. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't breathing.
He didn't understand. he had killed her, her lifeless body lay in his hands, and yet, he wasn't bursting into flames. he wasn't slipping back into the abyss for breaking the contact.
He was so preoccupied he didn't realize that her wrist had healed.
He quietly brushed her platinum blond locks from her face, had they become darker ...? He felt quite strange. It was almost like he was sorry for her death. This sentiment confused him. He had spent the last two days thinking of inventive ways to kill her.
Her eyes snapped open. They locked onto him and he watched as her pupils dilated.

Before he knew what was happening, She was on her feet. She grabbed him and threw him so he went sailing through the air and landed on the bed with a thud.
In a blur of motion she was kneeling above him, with her legs straddling his.
Her face was determined even though her eyes had tears in them.
He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to keep her from moving. She struggled and wiggled like a hellcat. She was surprisingly strong, but then again, she did just throw him across a room.
"STOP!" he screamed.
Surprisingly, she suddenly froze in place. Tears still streamed down her face, but her eyes were looking at him hungrily.
She was panting, her whole body was shaking just inches from his, but still she did not move.
"But I NEED you," she said, her voice pleading. "Please, please. I'll do anything..."
He looked at her puzzled. He wonder why she didn't just continue trying to undress me, was it just because he told her to?
"Why'd you stop?" he asked, curious.
Confusion played against her face, before it too was swallowed by lust. "But, you told me to stop."
He nodded. He was having fun with this game. "But why did you? You look like you're going to lose your mind. So why'd you stop?"
She whimpered, her body was shaking more violently now. Not only from passion this time. He smelt her fear rising.
"Don't make me tell you..." she whined, the blue silk outfit was torn in several places.
He gave her his best evil grin.
"Tell me," He said. He nodded, smiling.
She sighed defeated and looked at her hands, her shoulders slouching, her voice monotone.
“I am compelled to… I need to follow your commands, as I cannot suppress it any longer”
She looked at him nervously, "So, what are you going to do to me?" She asked.
He thought for a moment.
He remembered the nights he spent dreaming of killing her. However, he also remembered his regret, when he thought he had taken her life.
He looked at her panic stricken face. "I'm supposing you couldn't leave me if you wanted to."
She nodded pathetically
"Then I suppose I'll have to take care of you," He said simply.
She looked relieved, and buried her head in his neck, crying softly. He stroked the back of her head absently, marveling at his own behavior rather than her own. He was doing a lot of unselfish things lately and he didn't know how he felt about that.
“Tomorrow night we are traveling to my house," he said calmly as he felt her slipping into slumber.
"I guess that squalid cave isn't where you live," she mumbled snottily before she dozed off.
-------
She was here. He could sense her. It felt strange to have her in this room. It somehow felt very personal, as if he was sharing an embarrassing secret. His chambers were furnished exactly like the cave was. But here, in this house, the furniture was original, and not the product of unholy trickery. She was now in his most private of sanctums. He had trusted a member of the Light with the one place on this Earth he felt safe. But she was HIS.
His to control. His to ... love? No! a demon has no soul. One with no soul cannot love of that he was sure. There was no hope for one such as him.
She still stood there. Unsure ... and just a little bit scared.
He smiled slyly, and called to her. “Will you stand there all night or come give me a kiss?”

She hesitantly tested myself, to see if she was compelled to kiss him, or if she could choose. To her surprise and delight, she was under her own will.
She walked to him, pretending to pucker her lips. She then drew back her hand and slapped him as hard as she could. His head snapped around, and fell back onto the bed.
Her hands were shaking with embarrassment, and seeing him look so smug and possessive had driven her over the edge.
Suddenly in blurring motions she was somehow under him, with her arms once again pinned above her head. His blazing yellow eyes stared into her.
"What was that for you ungrateful wench?" He said, with anger evident in his voice.
She hissed at him, which she admit was rather childish.
"You!" she shouted. "You and your damned control over me, makes me so furious."
She struggled and kicked from under him in rage.
Understanding dawned in his stupid stupid perfect demonic eyes. "You mean, when I...?" He trailed off.
"YES," she shrieked. Spittle flew up and hit him on the cheek.
"You stupid bastard, my life is ruined thanks to you, and all I can think about is YOU! I feel uncomfortable when I'm not near you. Which is pathetic.”
She took a deep breath after her rant. The she tried to surprise him by yanking her head up and tried to bite his face.
He was ready for her.
"STOP." He yelled.
She could feel herself losing control over her body. Her muscles would not obey her commands, her bones felt frozen.
She viciously tried to force her body to attack him. But it simply lay listlessly on the bed, waiting for the next command.

She looked so beautiful. She looked so fragile. She looked so hurt ... and he was the one hurting her.
He moved away from her as if burned.
He walk to his desk in a daze, and sat down heavily. His hands cradling his head.
He didn't know what was wrong with him. That damn ball in the back of his throat Â… Was that guilt? and he still couldn't bring himself to look at her.
He did this every time he had a mistress. Slowly he'd enslave her using either his magic or his blood ... and then he would treat her as chattel ... until she bored him.
Then he would savor killing her. After which he would moved on to his next tryst.
This time felt different though.
All he knew was the guilt. And it consumed him.
-------
The angel calling me him, wanting the fallen one.
His sneer turned into a full blown snarl, his yellow eyes flashed, sending a lurid glow across the field.
"She is MINE!" His voice sounded inhuman. Like a mix between a wild animal and a vengeful spirit, bent on enforcing its will.

"You will fall to my might demon," The angel shrieked.
The angel suddenly became a blur of silver, as she streaked towards him. he raised his sword, and grinned the grin of a mad man.
Just before their swords clashed his eyes met hers.
He awoke beaded in sweat.... A nightmare? When had he ever had a nightmare?


Tsesaria shakes her head in union with Untaramar and they locked their gazes. Their world was different nowÂ… She had risen in power among the denizen of the abyss and she had made him proud. Almost no fallen angels could hold such a status in the abyss.
His mistress of pleasure and pain rivaling the strongest of Lilitu or succubi.
He remembered back when he had thought her of no useÂ… Again her defiance had proved him wrong...

Tsesaria rests a hand on her hip and a sultry and malevolent smile plays on her full lips.

The world is filled with pain and torment, and the best that one can do is to suffer those blows that cannot be avoided and deal as much pain back to those who offend.
Kindnesses are the best companions to hurts, and increase the intensity of suffering.
Let mercy of sudden abstinence from causing pain and of providing unlooked-for healing come over you seldom, but at whim, so as to make folk hope and increase the Mystery of your Mercy.
Unswerving cruelty will turn all folk against you. Act alluring, and give pain and torment to those who enjoy it as well as to those who deserve it most or would be most hurt by it. The lash, fire, and cold are the three pains that never fail. Pain tests all, but gives strength of spirit and true pleasure to the hardy and the true. There is no true punishment if the punisher knows no discipline. Wherever a whip is, I will walk, Fear me—and yet long for me.

[*NightWisp]

((Hope you will all enjoy this little piece of biography/short story))

[*NightWisp]

Ohh and as i cant be bothered to remeber updating more than one place for any with interest and who can sort ooc info from ic.. Saria has a journal she writes in from time to time about her life since comming to sigil...

BUT THIS IS STRICKLY OOC KNOWLEDGE! Enjoy :P

Mémoires of the fallen

[*poststructuralism]

Ohh and as i cant be bothered to remeber updating more than one place for any with interest and who can sort ooc info from ic.. Saria has a journal she writes in from time to time about her life since comming to sigil...

BUT THIS IS STRICKLY OOC KNOWLEDGE! Enjoy :P

Mémoires of the fallen

((Enjoyed this! Have not RP'd with you but I have enjoyed meeting Untaramar, and I have seen your Tsesaria around. Keep up the RP!)) :)

[*NightWisp]

Once upon a time.
I found you and I made you mine.
We dance the night away my love.
I took you to Shendilavris land
And held you laugh in my hand.
I could form you as i pleased.

I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper you belong to me
I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper for eternity

I awoke one day
To found you had slipped away
I'm so proud you break the hedge
But I will come for you
And I will make it through
And drag your ass home back with me

I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper you belong to me
I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper for eternity

Now you found a place
Inside of Sigils cage
And you've made friends and enemies
But come to me my love
My only little dove
Please dont make your keeper wait

Cause I am not sure
How much pain you can endure
Im gonna break you this time
Never forget your mine

I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper you belong to me
I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper for eternity

I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper you will never be free
I am your keeper la da da da di
I am your keeper you belong to me