The First Age

When this Voxel Adams finally listened Roza was inclined to please him and in hopes be returned the favor. Though Esper's plans were still distracted and she pushed a rush of emotions through her into the man she facilitated. He was spent in a rush and Roza own climax came upon the whims of her friends touch. It was euphoric and a little disappointing to be finished in such a hurry, but Esper was decidedly distracted and Voxel's apology only earned him a sly smile of sure, that's what they all say. But she said nothing of the kind as she took Esper's hand and followed her wherever she was destined to go.

Esper knew far more than what Roza did and she herself didn't understand exactly what her friend experienced only that it was intense. She turned and shot Voxel a charming smile. "Perhaps you'll find us again at The Carnival." She wouldn't know his face, his falsities rare as they were even with the removal of his mask. Illusion magic was not a rare thing, but to be done well -- that was different. Roza could barely conjure dancing lights, and illusionary dancing figures, nothing as elaborate as covering up her identity. That was what the carnival was for -- all sorts of things could be found in its depths.

Roza turned her attentions to Esper and hung on her arm and whispered into her ear. "Where are we going szerető*?"

[[* szerető → valentine, paramour in hungarian]]

Esper was transfixed, and once familiar fingers clasped around hers her pace only quickened, though neither would she have waited had Roza preferred to linger with her other company a while. Instead Roza soon nestled close and a whisper tickled her ear, a reminder of their earlier intimacy. “He still owes you service,” she said matter-of-factly, meaning Voxel, should Roza not wish to be done with him. Though Esper did not apologise for cutting the game short, or for putting her own interests first. She did pause at the top of the stairs, impatience humming through her limbs. Her eyes were glossed white with contacts, but the energy behind them was palpable.

“Death and birth and lust,” she said in a rush, as though that was any explanation at all for the torrent inside her. She reached to pull Roza into a dance, twirling her around before drawing her close. “We are going to find the one who commands it like a symphony.”

Her hand clasped tight once more as she pulled Roza onwards with a feral smile, but her pace slowed once they returned to the party. The moment she heard the singing. After that, Esper only stared.

It was always nice when a puppy followed willingly. Since he hadn’t yet tried to forcibly remove the keys from her, violence seemed an unlikely outcome. But one thing she’d learned from the women of her youth was that you never really knew a man, or his capabilities. With the party still in full swing there were plenty of dark corners he could have tried to corner her into in order to force her hand. No one would have blinked an eye.

Nesrin went retro for the communication – this wasn’t the sort of dress you could hide a wallet in, and even if she’d had the nerve to liberate his for the task, it would be drowning in security and as good as useless. She watched him curiously before she bent to write her message on one of the labels, wondering at his patience, noting his clenched fist. Her print was as plain as that of her own name sticker and said nothing of the hand that penned it. She was hedging her bets with the query, and reading a person to stay on the right track was harder when you couldn’t see their face, but then Nesrin was good at this.

His first answer earned a patient stare, though inside she smirked – apparently he had a sense of humour for all he sounded like a robot. But the real answer was strange. He shifted between pronouns, and she couldn’t fathom a reason why – though it made her insatiably curious for a glimpse under that neon mask. The fluttering could only really be one thing, though. Maybe he was a channeler himself. There’s no way she would know. But they'd all witnessed the lights.

I know what it was, she wrote. Her eyes upturned, watching him from habit more than any likelihood of a tell. And I know who it was.

They had followed the fluttering. It called to them. But it didn't understand why or how. Or even what it was. This woman seemed to know more. Seemed to understand what they did not. The body was not accustom to physical touch, though it had seen all variety of naked escapades on the idiot box it stared at when not doing their bidding. Studying human nature was not its greatest form of enjoyment. There was nothing to gain from manipulating outside the body. Yet they had learned a thing or two, and this party was not unlike the others they had been to.

They were too far to explore, though she was just a touch away. It cocked it's head to the side with an odd hidden smile. She could not see, but they were curious. They had nothing to offer this woman. If she had wanted recreational favors that was something, but she did not seem in want of those things. It could only ask in its gravely underused voice. "And what do you want for this "what"? Who we know."

The emissary's hand reached out and grabbed her elbow. The intent was not meant to be aggressive or a threat, but they stretched past the hand to tickle at the skin below. It could easily overwhelm her, push from it to her, to read and take what it wanted. They could do it. They wanted to do it. It had been a while since they had claimed a new reverent. She might make a good puppet. All that knowledge to learn from this Ms. Bode.

He watched the two girls leave. What a let down.

Jaxen decided to wander the basement a while, flipping through the bedroom, prying into drawers and searching for ports. The burner wallet wouldn’t be helpful here, but he did leave a few funny messages for Sage to find in his spare time.

Finally, the tug of the ancient power being used drew his attention toward the ceiling. When he wandered back upstairs, it was to find a bizarre and otherworldly scene. The kind that drew him in like a moth to the flame.

Lights swirled blue and green, casting everyone in a sickly hue. Half the people had doffed their masks, the other half had doffed their clothes. A wicked smile curled, matching the cartoonish one on his mask.

This was exactly what he hoped would happen, and it was the perfect distraction to explore. 

He found a door wrapped in the threatening aura of the ancient power. Jiggling the knob found it bound shut, but an equal push of the ancient power was enough to thrust it wide open.

And what he saw within, well, it lit a huge smile on his face. 

In a swift and easy motion, his heel closed the door, he crossed his arms, and leaned against its interior side. “You two make a cute couple,” he said, peeling out of his mask just in case they didn’t recognize the husky Jaxen accent. 

“Need any help, Nox? She can be a handful.” He chuckled.

Nox like this was her favourite kind of monster. A force to be reckoned with, and for the moment at least, utterly hers. They were a tangle of violence and lust, taking and giving and forcing. She wanted the frenzy; growls under panting breath, bruising fingertips, the slap of sweat-soaked skin. Ori pushed those buttons because she could handle the consequences. She didn’t fear taking it too far. She didn’t fear getting hurt herself.

The thump of the music was distant. And then for a moment it wasn’t.

She didn’t need to see the face to recognise the unwelcome voice as it slunk past the door. Fortunately for Jaxen, Nox was currently pinned underneath her thighs – which dampened any immediate reaction from the unchained beast. Her sinful expression darkened, eyes flashing venom, but it was Nox’s throat she leaned to wrap her palm around. Her body tensed for the possessive rage anticipated. Nox wasn’t himself.

“Better run, sweetheart,” she warned their foolish guest. She hadn’t forgiven Jaxen for his dismissal at Almaz, but it didn’t mean she wanted to see him hurt. Or worse.

Oriena's teeth and nails left marks on his body. She wasn't completely free of crescents marring her soft flesh. The murphy bed was off its hinge and wouldn't likely fold back up without being repaired. The bedding was tossed aside and a mess beneath them as the door burst open.

The familiar sound of Jaxen Marveet's voice pierced through the pleasure and Nox growled a not so friendly sound with the horde pushing his psyche. Ori sat atop him, her hand at his throat before he could move. Nox struggled to breathe as he stared at their intruder.

Oriena's hand collapsed around his throat as he tried to move, but she warned Jaxen. He wondered in his horde addled brain if she'd let him play. Let him out of his self imposed cage. Would she watch? The hunger the horde felt was being sated, but it hadn't been satisfied. Yet. There was plenty of time left in the night to draw out blood and pleasure and most importantly the violence.

Nox moved again but Oriena's hand tightened its grip on his throat. He was going red in the face, his breathing was labored. He turned his attention to her instead of the prey with which he was trying to get to. He'd have given her a smile if he could do anything other than try to get out from underneath her. His body ached in all the right places, and also in all the wrong ones. The newly formed scars hindered his movements, dampened his physical strength. There was no doubt in his mind if the fucking rougarou hadn't sliced into his core, sides and back that he could have pushed past this strain on his body even as breath left his lungs and his head grew light.

He glared at Oriena and lifted the mechanical hand towards her throat even as he tried to sit up still. He'd forgotten their prey, at least for the moment. His body was still rigid with their prior passions and he this was just another aspect to it. This time he did smile, dark and ominous licking his lips in want and need.

Roza only slightly acknowledge that Jaxen had failed in his orders, but it didn't matter, she was mostly satisfied with her own climax. It was less meaningful as it came through for another person more so than herself, but she could always find another, or even Esper might, they'd yet to finish what they started. Pesky mother and all that.

But they climbed the stairs with Jaxen on their heels and pushing into the crowd as Esper stood and stared at the man standing on the countertops wailing at the top of his lungs to a song that no one cared about. But they listened to him anyway. The frenzied calm of a riot steadied with his voice and Roza was inclined to listen too. A man (one could only assume from his build and stature, the mask gave nothing away) walked up to the man standing on the counter. His red mask never moved much to Roza's disappointment. His hands cupping to whisper through the mouth hole into the beautiful voiced man's ear.

There was a look of horror on his face. It distorted his otherwise beautiful features and he stood up again. The song didn't change, the words said one thing, but the feeling Roza felt as the words reverberated in her ear and her mind said get the fuck out. It was dangerous to be here. The crowd started to panic, but as the singer noticed the song changed yet again. Calm, leave. Danger, caution. Those were the feelings that reverberated in her soul.

Roza grabbed Esper's elbow as she stood transfixed by the man singing. The man in the mask had disappeared. "We need to go Esper. It's not safe." She tugged on her friends arm and tried to pull her away with the crowd who was also vacated the premises.

Sage watched the crowd placate when Ashton started to sing. That could come in handy, he thought to himself as he wandered off into the crowd to find something else to get into. It wasn't long afterwards that there was a blaring alarm in his head. It pierced through the dim of the music and Sage clutched his head as he frantically moved through the crowd. The alarm was loud because Nox had fled through it. And someone had just busted in the door. Though nothing was broken from the status report, just the code wasn't touched and Nox was busy -- he knew that much.

Nox was hungry if his mood could be gauged by the public display he and Oriena had put on before fleeing. The horde was dangerous and Nox and Oriena... that was a recipe for disaster.

He flung himself into the crowd towards Ashton.

The blonde stood and sang and when Sage tapped him on the knee he knelt down to listen, the pause in the song barely dazing the crowd from their lullaby.

He cupped his hands and shouted into Ashton's ear over the music. "Someone just busted in on Nox. You saw what he's capable of. We need to get these people out before he hurts someone. Then you keep the kids upstairs till I tell you otherwise." There wasn't much Sage could do if Nox went rogue. If only he knew where Nox kept his guns... In the Vega estate that had been easy, but here, and in his present mood. There was no telling. There might not even be a gun in the house.

Sage rushed off into the crowd, he had to at least try to keep his friend from doing something he'd regret.

The Emissary’s head tilted, and Nesrin thrilled at the moment she had him hooked. Negotiation was exactly what she wanted, and she was already calculating how to drive the bargain deeper. Yet the tickle of his fingers at her elbow sent a shiver of sudden caution through her. It felt utterly different from the behaviour he already displayed, and she didn’t like the anomaly. In her free hand she twisted the cap from the marker, using the gesture as a moment to think before she offered a response. It was only chance awareness that noticed the figure slipping past a door beyond the Emissary’s shoulder. Amongst the party’s general distraction it was insignificant, except which door, and who she knew was behind it. Her eyes widened. By now Nesrin had worked the floor at Almaz long enough to witness first-hand the carnage of one of its most renowned fighters. She was still smarting from where the force of his power had knocked her down on his way into that room. It didn’t speak well of his mood.

She dropped the pen and reached to grab the Emissary’s arm. Though her movements were controlled, it was clear something had spooked her. We should go, the tug suggested. They could discuss this somewhere else. Her dark eyes remained on the closed door a moment more before she looked up at the mask, but he did not move. Curiosity pulled his attention in another direction, the wrong direction, and she reasoned it meant there was a power growing which was beyond her comprehension. Fuck. Ultimately she didn’t care about his safety, but didn’t want to lose her chance at leverage with the most powerful of the m’Antinomian either. In desperation, power of her own fed into him, urging her will upon his, coaxing him to follow.

But he did not move.

She was both surprised and stung when more than that, he actually shifted away. Her grip released without protest. She slipped backwards, seeking safety. By now people had started to move, and while she was normally more mindful of her surroundings, she fell right into someone.