Lethal Eloquence (Freya) Jan 29, 2013 0:17:36 GMT -4
Post by Tobias 'Hybris' Kipling on Jan 29, 2013 0:17:36 GMT -4
Hybris was a creature who reveled in feeling superior, though the difference between him and many other pride Overminds was the fact he didn’t let it control him. Instead of a sin leashing his will and thoughts, he enslaved such emotions, reprogramming them to work for him as an advantage rather than a stereotypical Achilles’ heel of a B-movie villain. There was a stark difference, he had come to realize, between being proud and being big-headed, and as the rather regal interpretation of the sin of pride itself set loose on this dystopian world, he was not willing to let such things bring him down. His proud nature snarled and twisted within him now though, muscle, bone, flesh felt as if it could not hold him from lashing out, punishing, exacting his anger upon his kin. Her blood felt like a poisonous monster, telling him he had failed, laughing in his face for believing he had succeeded in quelling the insurrectionist qualities of the human disease. It took everything he had to not spill her blood in a moment of anger, and as he expected, it faded, clearing his mind once again but leaving him with a tingling atrophy of his pride to crawl deep within him and lick its wounds.
Though a vicious pride and tenacity acted as the skeleton that kept the rest of his roiling spirit in place, rigid and undeviating from a learned set of behaviors, his dark eyes were softened and almost languid like a snake lethargic from lack of warmth. The fingers lying across Freya’s cheek had transformed from claws to the caress of a very convincing nature. He saw in her eyes a battle being waged with sticks and stones, the fire of passion wanting to find an inkling of truth in his actions, conflicted by the intelligent criticism of who he was to her. Hybris had never made a claim of being someone who could be human, not even the notion of blending in and sabotaging the race crossed his mind past idle musings. He had cultivated his choice of battle with the human race with blade soaked in blood, not cloaked in skin that was not his own. Love, affection, did not describe him in the least, but his fabricated projection of it was a weapon all its own, poised against an Overmind who had won his respect and had always been loyal to him as a fellow sister of fiery origins.
As she said his name, stammered like a dove’s wings unfurled into sudden flight, soft yet hesitant and completely understandable for the situation she had found herself in. His smile turned from blank rage to a dark smile, eclipsed with a hint of demonic fury. The expression was akin to glimpsing something out of the corner of one’s eye, barely there but leaving the imagination to rip and tear at its own sanity with the possibilities undefined in such a gesture. Nothing was said as he wrapped the hand that had laud across her lips around the locks of hair covering her smooth temple, tangling in his grip her luxurious hair. There was no indication physically that he held her with the intent to cause her harm. No, what he felt, what he saw in her blood was now more of an offense than something that elicited his wrath. Now was not the time to lash out at her, instead, it was more logical to start fresh, a new hunt for old prey. What he did, instead of harming her, was pull her closer, with her wrist still held fast in his grip. It would have looked looked like they were frozen in a silent dance, the music of their breathing filling the vast space with ghostly echoes. Both knew this was not a dance, but a careful series of movements to avoid falling into a rather large abyss.
“Is James one of these, enemies, you keep so close? Dead men tell no tales; at least, this is what I thought until now.”
Hybris’s teeth snapped together next to her ear, his dark eyes lost and unfocused in the pulsing haze of her blood thoughts, gaze drifting towards the stained glass windows unblinkingly.
“I don’t understand love, the need to preserve another if they themselves cannot. I do, however, know such a thing when your heart all but sings it. You will not come to harm for having kept this from me, I am not your Kakai, I am not an individual in which you owe such unadulterated information.” His whisperings were half true, he felt wounded in his confidence of her, that James still lived and she kept it quiet. Such an unfortunate turn of events, that a former human enemy of his had found his way into her heart, only for the Kakai of Pride to find out. Loose ends such as James made for nasty retaliations, bad reputation, the illusion of weakness. Above all, it created a sort of self loathing, regretting that he had not been able to kill James the first time, so that Freya’s lust and love hadn’t made her so blind to the will of their Lord. Now, the implications in her blood wove a rumor in his mind that she didn’t know James as he did. Instead, he pieced together that James had been reborn as a vampyre; despite blood being a less than descriptive medium for information, but it allowed Hybris a starting point all the same, to fill in the blanks at his own pace.
“However, you’ve made a mistake with me, but it is fixable by some means. I require everything you know about James Carrison, where you last saw him, who made him, everything. If you can oblige, my dearest Freya, I will forgive you. This will not be your fight, and he will be ended painlessly. You can spare him so much pain, if you can simply atone for the weakness of the love you feel for him.”
It would be a shame if he had to break down more walls of trust with one of his most prized allies by forcing this information from her, but then again, it could be categorized as a causality of war, something Hybris would not lose sleep over.