Sunday, March 25, 2007

I hear the voice of rage and ruin

((RP MODE))

Never save an incubus, man. Pour all that energy and life and drive into them, and when they heal, they come right after you. Why am I even surprised at this?

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Met with the monk in Lumindor. My demoness had gotten somewhat irked with him, and had partially torn out his spine. It was the sheerest act of will he was able to leave the sithen at all, and it took him hours to drag himself the few scant yards to my tree.

But he did, and collapsed, and when I returned to Lumindor early this morning, there he lay. Broken. Helpless. Half-alive.

Well. I could not leave him so, could I? Bite your tongue, of course I couldn't.

So I...bit him. Now, now, don't be that way--I had to. To heal him. Hurt him terribly, nearly beyond all bearing, but...it had to be done. It was that or chop off his head, and...I don't think I could have done that.

For all the First Claw would have been overjoyed to have her trophy.

At any rate, the morning advanced, me pouring in all the energy I had, all the energy I knew how, into healing the incubus. It took a very long time. Drained me nearly completely. But at the end, he stood, stretched, reached for me...and locked his hands around my throat, squeezing.

Ungrateful wretch. See if I save *his* life again...

Something brought him back from the killing rage, who knows what, and he carried me up to the tree, where I just *knew* something terrible was going to happen.

But he tucked me in, and carded through my hair, and bid me to sleep well...for the most part, it was innocent.

Well.

As innocent as an incubus and a new succubus can be, really.

Which...well, isn't very.

But he left--ran screaming, actually--into the predawn air, and I, myself, chose to collapse on the bed.

What else was I supposed to do with a nearly-crushed throat and still-leaking wounds? Please. I'm not even *nigh*-invulnerable. And by all the gods, I'm too tired to shift...

Goodnight. Maybe a day's rest will make it easier to breathe.

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