Roleplay City
Infusco => DOMICILES => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => Parlor in Purgatory => Topic started by: Black Philip on May 04, 2019, 05:38:08 AM
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Tess had cast a proper circle.. Black salt and candles of various colors created the large perimeter she needed, and inside the circle various bones, blood, entrails and other ingredients had been balanced out and measured. Astral projection was a difficult enough spell, but what she had planned would take even more skill and power. She had done the actual casting moments before, and now laid back onto a pillow, the circle large enough to hold her whole body. In one hand was a knife, and in the other a crystal black as death. She held both tight as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Her undead dog, Riley, yapped in the other room of her one bedroom apartment. She’d tend to him after this was done. It took only a few minutes to drift off, the spell helping her along. Once her breathing slowed, she began to levitate off the ground. She rose within the circle, her face now just an inch from the ceiling. Her eyes shot open and were as black as the void itself. Her lips formed a single word. “Wren,” she called out, or Black Philip called out. It wasn’t exactly clear who was speaking.
The magic weaved through the city, finding the Parlor of Purgatory with ease. Tess had visited the outside of the building just the night before. It was an impressive magical fortress, but even the mightiest of castles had weak gates, and the magic she was casting tonight was one such weakness. Dream Tess managed to slip through the complicated and ancient magic, her exact wording of the spell allowing it to be perceived as harmless. Once inside, the sleeping magic found her intended target, and Tess’s soft laughter was heard by the walls of the Parlor. The house moaned in protest at the intrusion, but now inside it was powerless to stop her. Wren’s sleep became unnatural and deep, and the black dreamless sleep he’d been in before was replaced by something far more sinister.
Wren’s eyes shot open and the druid would find himself in his room at the Parlor. Tess’s soft laughter could still be heard, and the door to his room creaked open. The laughter called to him, and by the nature of the spell that was cast, he began to follow. The laughter led him all through the house until finally they were in a bathroom with an oversized clawfoot tub, and an old radio. As Wren opened the door, hundreds of lit candles littered the room, and in the tub with bubbles up to her neck was Thesdea Thane.
“I’m so happy you came,” she said with a mockful meekness, her naked body hidden beneath the liquid and foam. “Don’t you think we need music,” she asked the room, and pointed a finger at the radio cabinet. While a loose boom toob or two started up, she turned back to her intended lover. “Well are you just going to leave me in here all alone,” she asked, pointing to the tub. Her arm was thin and milky white, and a powerful feeling of softness imminated from her. The radio finally worked itself out and a song began to play in the background. While unsure if he’d ever heard it, the tune was designed to feel familiar, and she smiled wickedly as she beckoned the handsome Druid to join her in the tub, a crooked finger guiding him closer and closer.
[[OOC: Donovan's Season of the Witch (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAzTnsSgs2s) plays from the radio.]]
“Strip,” she commanded, and watched as her target took off whatever clothes he was wearing. His body was hard, well trained, and undersexed. She could fix that last part. Once nude she pointed again to the tub and he slowly got in, unable to speak for some reason. Back in her apartment, Tess’s clothes melted away, leaving her floating nude in all her glory. The candles shot up high, and the song filled her apartment. Back at the Parlor she now shared the tub, a girlish mix of intrigue and mischievousness crossing her face. She wanted this to avoid looking like a two dollar porno, and so didn’t use any silly voices, or play some bimbo character. She was herself; a woman looking for sex from a man. She asked softly, “do you want to kiss me?” The dream druid nodded, and moved through the water to wrap his strong arms around her back. If there was any resistance to the spell, Tess didn’t sense it, and so she used her free hand to guide Wren to her lips. The warm water and closeness made them both start to sweat, and she took her lover’s hands and ran them down her body, letting him explore her curves and the plumpness of her flesh in erogenous locations. She kissed him eagerly, and harshly, biting his lower lip and moved her hand under the water towards his rod.
She began to massage him, watching his poor dumb face for every pleased reaction. Men were just tools to her, and this new one was by far the best one she’d seen in years. His soul reeked of conflict, and she was as attracted to his darkness as she was to the light within him. She wanted him to be with her, to join her in her unholy cause. If she could only show him her’s was a righteous one. Well, all things would come in time, and tonight was about something far more carnal then the nature of his soul.
Once he was hard, she moved his hands to her opening, guiding him inside and towards her mound. Her head tilted back and she placed her hands on the edge of the tub. She began to moan, letting Wren work her over and stimulate her to the point where she’d want more of him. Wren was looking at the witch’s face to see if she was pleased with him, and she wondered if this was his genuine feeling or perhaps the dream taking over for her too. Whatever the reason, she liked the worship she was receiving, his fingers tickling and stimulating her in all the right places. She could sense his eagerness, his lust and perhaps deeper down his anger. She liked that anger, and wanted that to be within him as they took the next step. To that end, she slapped him with a free hand, laughing darkly as several of the candles in the room puffed out.
His hands were around her throat now, and she climbed on top of him, finding his erection and guiding him inside her. Even within the dream it took her a moment to accommodate him, but very soon she began to ride, his hands squeezing her throat as she moved slowly up and down. This rhythm continued for a few minutes with kissing, hands, nipples and hot breath filling in the gaps as the rest of them moved in tandem. She was doing most of the work, but it was her spell, and he didn’t seem to mind. In another situation she’d want him to fuck her with all that anger he felt beneath the surface. Yes, it was his lust and his anger that pulled him closer and closer to her, and similarly brought him closer and closer to his climax. She felt her cliamx coming as well, pleased that Wren inside her brought such strong physical pleasure.
However, something began to change. The song now sounded like only an echo and the remaining candles fizzled out one by one. The room grew darker and darker until only a single flame illuminated the room. Wren would see Tess’s eyes reflect that light like a beast’s. He begin to panic, but supernatural and strong arms pinned his to the tub. When he looked to them he’d see not the thin, milky white arms of the fair maiden, but the black hair and hooves of a goat. He looked next to her face and saw it was still her own, her coy smile confusing him even more. The final light went out and he began to feel himself climax, releasing his dream seed deep inside her. All the candles suddenly relit on their own and shot up high, threatening to light the very parlor on fire. Wren wouldn’t notice any of this, for as he looked upon Tess - half way through his orgasm - he saw his lover was a black goat, it’s hot breath on his face.
An evil and deep voice, the same one that had demanded the treacle, whispered to him, “Your soul will be mine.” The goat head moved closer to lick his face, but a strong hand entered the dream and pulled the goat back, ripping it from Wren. The goat’s scream turned into Tess’s scream, and back at her apartment she dropped to the ground, smacking her head on the ground, the pillow just an inch too far to the left. “Fuck,” she yelled, upset she hadn’t finished. On the positive side, her master was pleased. She could sense it.
Back at the Parlor, Wren would awaken, naked in an empty tub. He’d slept walked there, and he could feel his erection shrinking. A pile of seed stained the tub. Tess reached inside herself and pulled a small amount of the milky white substance from her and placed it in a crystal vial. She’d acquired her first ingredient.
Thanks Wren, she thought, wondering if her partner could hear it.
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The house awoke Sabrina the second the intruder slipped through her defenses, and she sat up in bed with a harsh breath. Beside her, Tansy murmured and turned over, curling in on herself. Even awake, however, the witch couldn't stop the vision flooding through her head; the same Tess forced upon Wren. Her guest. Whom she'd promised to keep safe. She held he heads in her hands as the Parlor’s distress rang endlessly through it, an impossibly loud klaxon she couldn’t shut off.
The moment it was over, she was up and out of bed, feeling the perimeter of the house with her mind as she tied on a silk robe. "Come back to bed," murmured Tansy, "I'm cold."
Sabrina leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, "Soon, my dear," she assured her.
And she meant to return to bed, truly.
But Wren would find Sabrina in the dining room the next morning when he came downstairs for breakfast. She sat at a corner booth with a large book open in front of her and a few others stacked beside it, two long-nailed fingers pressed to her forehead. When he entered, she looked up and beckoned.
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After finding himself in the bathtub he cleaned away the evidence of what had happened from the tub and then took a shower, the chilly water forcing the last remnants of the dream from his mind. Shivering, he dried himself and left the towel to dry on the rung then hurriedly left the bathroom into his bedroom.
Wren selected some cotton shorts and a singlet to wear then pulled a woollen jumper atop that. He wanted another layer on his legs and hunted around until he found his pyjama pants. He put them on over the shorts and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He stared at the ceiling and then at the wall when haunted by the memory of the black goat.
Only a dream, he told himself, though he suspected it might be more. It was hard to know considering he'd been thinking of Tess off and on the days previous since meeting her. He'd even used his hand once while thinking of her and the smell of her when she'd sat beside him in the back of the van on the way to the cemetary, and the feel of her when she'd been thrown against him - soft, warm. Perhaps it really had been a dream and his mind was trying to warn him of the darkness inside her. He'd never been in a battle before. PTSD? He didn't know what it meant to have such a thing.
He eventually slept.
In the morning, the dream felt surreal and distant. He all but laughed at himself when he peeled off his extra layers and dressed in tan hemp pants and a light cotton shirt. Leather sandals on his feet and his protection beads around his neck, he moved downstairs and found Sabrina at a table. He intended on letting her know that he would be apartment hunting soon. He didn't feel comfortable staying here, surrounded by magics much more involved and complicated than his own.
When she beckoned, he felt a hard lump forming inside his throat. He smiled in spite of it and bid a croaky good morning before selecting a chair adjacent to her to sit on. Worried fingers played with the beads.
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Sabrina smiled as he sat across from her, and her hand drifted from her forehead to the pages spread out before her. “Wren, it’s good to see you.”
She was still dressed in the back silk robe she’d left her bedroom in, pulled close over a set of sky-blue silk pajamas. Her white-blonde hair fell loose about her shoulders, soft and stick-straight.
“Tess...visited you last night.” It was not a question. She cleared her throat, and aimed her eyes at the table briefly, before fixing them again on Wren’s face, “I saw - I think - what you saw. I’m concerned about what it means, and that what she gained from it may be more than, ah, psychic.”
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He was horrified and felt
violated
vulnerable because of her words. He tensed, muscles bunching up and betraying his discomfort at the topic. It was bad enough that the dream was not a dream and what he'd seen had been real
no no please
not real that goat was not
did I have sex with Tess or with that thing?
who was it with me?
Did it matter what had stolen its way to him? Sabrina was telling him the dream had done more than just used him, it had... gained(?) something. He didn’t understand. In truth he didn’t want to. What had it gained? Not knowledge. They’d hardly spoken. The realisation of what he'd left behind in the bathtub had him frowning darkly and he reeled back from the witch who was trying her best to look compassionate. His cheeks coloured but he had important questions.
“What can be done with it? Am I in danger?”
Will she come to me again? He didn’t voice this last, not trusting himself to keep a tendril of hopefulness out of his voice. A lot of him had enjoyed the dream until it had soured with the goat. He didn’t want to share that with anyone.
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As he reeled back, Sabrina's teeth clenched behind her lips, and her brow furrowed. She should have realized how difficult this might be for Wren. It was a gross violation, both physical and psychic, and he was unlearned in other schools of magic where this sort of practice was common.
But the door was open now, and there was no way out but through.
"A lot of magics use physical...remnants, of a person to influence them," she said this as gently as she could, knowing the information could not be easy to hear, "But awareness is half the battle in these cases. Knowing makes it easier to resist that influence."
She tapped her long, pointed fingernails on the book in front of her, and a glowing message appeared on the outside of the door to the dining room, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed by other tenants: Privacy Please.
She reached a hand across the table toward him, palm up, offered for holding. She wanted badly to comfort him, but understood that touch could be difficult in these situations, so she left it up to him. "Forewarned is forearmed. We'll gather the others soon, and see what they've found out."
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Physical remnants. Hair. Fingernail cuttings. Semen. It had been easy to lead his dreaming self along. It had felt like a dream - he wouldn't have behaved the same way if it hadn't been his dream self. Or had it been him all along, helpless under her control? He'd left his bed, undressed and hopped into the bath for real, not just in the dream. Now that she'd had him inside her, was her hold on him greater now?
No. He believed it would be easier to resist Tess' influence because of what had happened. All he had to do in his thoughts was to superimpose her pretty face with that of the bleating devil-goat. There would be no further attraction between them, he was sure.
Mostly sure. Maybe half-sure.
Wren's eyes widened at Sabrina's suggestion of discussing matters with the group. "You're not going to... tell them?" he asked, embarrassed at the thought of all of them knowing. If they had to be told, then so be it, but he didn't have to be in the room with them during the telling.
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Sabrina shook her head emphatically, “No, never. Especially not if you don’t want me to.” Untaken, she withdrew her hand from across the table. “I think it is important for them to know that she has a piece of you, so they can protect themselves in case this isn’t...isolated, but I see no reason anyone would possibly need to know why or how.”
A thought gave her pause: would he have told her if she’d seen nothing? No. He wouldn’t have known to. Wren really was a babe in the woods.
She sighed, looking back down at her book, “In the meantime, I’m going to work on the wards on the house so this can’t happen again. Let me know if you see anything else, or begin to feel not yourself. If you lose time, even an hour, tell me immediately — we may have to take additional steps.”
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Just as he didn't notice her hand extend to him (other than it being an offer of compassion), Wren also didn't take note of its departure. On some level he was aware of what happened, but he was still reeling from the discovery that last night's dream was a reality.
He respected her enough to listen, if not to accept her touch. It occurred to Wren, as Sabrina spoke about strengthening wards and losing time, that there would be no apartment hunting in his future. Of course he could take the risk, but the witch would strongly advise against it and he would be a fool to even want to.
He was a fool. He wanted to. But he was not fool enough to try.
"Very well," he said, his speech stiffening much like the muscles in his shoulders and arms. He could feel them going tense and didn't know how to relax them other than to force his fisted hands open upon his lap. "Is anything required of me?"
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Sabrina looked up at the stiffness in his words, a pained expression on her face, "I'm sorry for all of this, Wren." She couldn't imagine this is what he'd wanted when he moved to the city, Circle or no.
She watched him for a moment, sitting there like a caged animal, radiating tension, "If you'd like, I can teach you some ways of protecting yourself. It will be outside the scope of your normal practice, but ––" she shrugged. She didn't really have a follow-up, "There's also the Academy. A witch named Astrid teaches there, and her methods are a little less --" Horrible? Dark? Likely to turn your blood to poison? "-- Arcane."
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Wren had heard Astrid's name come up a few times. They seemed to be in similar areas but were missing each other by minutes at a time. He would meet her soon enough, but he didn't want to approach her with a request for a favour. Also, he had no idea if she would need details as to what he needed protection from. It made sense that she would. He preferred as few people to know what had happened (or what was happening) as possible.
"You," he said sharply. "Please," he added, relaxing himself with great effort. "I would be grateful if you could teach me."
Her talents were far superior to his own. He knew very few magics without his Circle, and what he did know was limited. Even though being a druid had widened his scope of understanding, he was aware that his focus was still very narrow.
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“Very well,” Sabrina nodded, smiling wanly, “We can meet back here tomorrow, after you’ve had a proper night’s rest and I’ve had time to get a message out to the others and check the wards. If you have any blessed or sacred weapons, I suggest you bring them.”
A beat, and she added, “Thank you for talking with me, Wren.”
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He thought of his staff when she mentioned weapons. It wasn't so much a weapon anymore because it was only imbibed with his own magic instead of his Circle. It used to do glorious things, but now he could only charge it to a small percentage of what it was. Perhaps Sabrina could help him with it... but now was not the time he wanted to ask.
"You're welcome," he said, and found he had the ability to hold her gaze, finally. If he'd had to choose someone to find out about the dream, he would've admitted it to Lacy, but now that Sabrina knew, he could go to her instead. Lacy would be untainted from the knowledge. She wouldn't look at him differently.
Or suspiciously.
He left the table and then the room, moving to the kitchen in a daze to prepare himself some breakfast.