She shakes, swallows, clawing ragged nails down the headstone in front of her. Her glowing eyes flick from the dying tree, to the cliff's edge, and back again. It's becoming difficult to move. Difficult to breathe.
Where is he? Where is he?? He said he'd never leave me, he said...he said...and I can't find him, I can't...I've looked, and...I'm so tired.
She shudders, falling to the side, pressing close to the cool grass, inhaling, shuddering, all her muscles clenched. Two days in, being past that point of needing to feed from him, feed the addiction he's given her, the demon in him's given her, and...nothing eases this hunger, nothing but...him.
And he is not here.
It's easier lower to the ground, but the ground here is tired...still, no one comes here, not even him, and...it's so quiet. I can barely hear the other lives in the land, everything's quiet, and still, and only the faint wails of the dead distract me at all.
She wraps her arms around her torso, clenched and shuddering around the hunger that seems larger than she is. Becoming the succubus wasn't this bad. Being addicted to him before wasn't this bad. This is...everything, this is...alteration, this is...too much.
Drinking of him, did I think it would have no consequences? He's already changed my genetic code, and how was that possible, how did I even think to guard against that eventuality? Nothing has been able to change my changeability, no life in the womb that shifts, no stability in the shifting bones...not for me.
But he did, the demon within the boy, he found a way...oh, I hide them, those...extensions of me...everywhere, or nearly. But I have them. I know they're there. And they carry through, form to form. Lucky me...
Her hand is trembling but keeps seeking out the heavy glass vial around her neck. The boy gave it to her a fortnight past, said it was his blood, the energies of his demon within, bound in place, to keep her when he could not be there. She thinks he was thinking of, one day, two days, and he would get a chance to refresh it...but he's been gone four, now, and she's been draining off the energies trapped behind the glass. Little sips, now and again, just enough to keep her going...but now, it's very nearly inert matter, and there's barely any of the demon's energy left. Nothing to sustain her. Nothing.
It's no good even going through the village, seeing who's about...oh, I can hide the shaking hands, the new gaunt face, I can hide the desperation in my eyes, make my voice pleasing...these are tricks of the Sidhe ancient of days, and though I'm not their caliber, I can still cast glamour.
But it won't help. I don't want them, mortals to feed the succubus side, sex and adrenalin and their small little lives to feed my fire. I need a taste of the demonic, cable-thick dark energy, moving through me, moving in me, not slender little threads of human life. I want...
I want...
...him...
She swallows, keening on the night air, fog rising around her, sinking down...the ghosts of the dead crowd around and she's unable to push them back far, they're drawn by weakness. She waves her hands, then looks at them, trembling as she holds them out, and shakes her head.
How could I have been such a fool...how could I possibly have believed him...lad or not, human or not, he's human no longer, not since the demon moved in...All that sweetness, all that gentle nature, it's all a front for the demon's wiles, and I have been well and truly trapped...
She stands, shaking, rising to her feet, hiding the tendrils with effort, stretching against the cold stone of yet another grave...it hurts, everything hurts, and no one to ease the hurt, and where is her Raven, how could even he abandon her like this...
And no one to hold me, even hold me, and nothing to do but live with this sharp ache, and I'm not strong enough, I'm not, I cannot do this...
She kneels, breathing in the night air, trying to compose herself. She can wait. She's learned on waiting. Waiting for her wandering Queen, waiting for her Raven love, waiting for...him. She can wait longer.
While the knives tear her belly and her shoulders shake and her hands tremble and her eyes drip with red-tinged tears...
But she can wait. She will wait. It's all she can do now.
It's all I have left...and nothing left of me, soon...just empty echoing space and the hunger within...
...and what happens then?
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[[Personal note: Y'know, I didn't want to do this again because of what happened the last time with this player--he got busy and, what with the timeline and all, I had to cold-rip an addiction out of my character. Much lack of fun at all, btw, playing these scenes out, and trust me, I had no want to do it again.
[[But here I am, and he's off, and who knows when he'll be back, and the little phouka is having to break the addiction again, and it's stronger this time. This...is going...to SUCK.
[[That's all there is to it. No more pretty demons. Demons bring the pretty, true, but they also bring the pain, the torture and the angst. Even in RP, I've had it.]]
[[Also--I've added a new tag for these, 'roleplay'--not that anyone's going to need to go through everything but me, but now everything RP should be neatly behind that one tag.]]
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