See, I gotta hunt you
I gotta bring you to my hell

Possessed of the night, of the wintry frost lacing its webbing chill across the vast valley of her spine, of moonlight flooding radiance across her phantom figure; Idhrael, a revenant beauty. Ghoulish and elegantly cruel - tight, rippling sinews pass in heat and furor, what glassine art of fatale splendor makes in tender footfalls, the ease of slender rolling muscle. Obscure femininity for all the harshness of her roving stare, for confidence that otherwise would seep of virility, haughty assurance. Too untethered to the manifest world of Amaryllis, too untouched by its rotten indulgence, by its souring rind of ceaseless ache and hunger.

Hunger yet is not unfamiliar to her blood, the weight of her bones, perhaps called by that withering heart inside this home that is not a home.

The cold is all that welcomes her, and it is all she cares for. What more rests beyond it waits for another eve - tonight she belongs to the shadow of a new mountain and its toothy crags washed in the full glow of a waxing moon. Tonight she is moved by those winding paths of the labyrinth that are left exposed to the blanket of snows and the perusal of starlight and the ache of her journey and the want for what knows no end.

Hers is the crown of frost and shadow.

It dances delicately across her brow - its angle cut to the fire of her eyes and marked by the rise of her high, hard cheekbones that know no smile finer than divine rapture. So her lips curve, too empty, too soft and yearning, to the night that greets her with the coming curse of morning. But before the scald of daylight she would find her resting chaise - seeking those cavernous halls of the labyrinth for a quiet, quaint chamber as sweet as a tomb.

Desire, I'm hungry
I hope you feed me _{BG — REF — CODE}

The night calls to him. Lingering in the back of his mind, causing him to have a sleepless night with nothing to count for. So instead of laying there - wide the fuck awake - Adeodatus traveled out of the Mire's territory with the moon at his back, casting its ghostly light upon his scarred and torn back. A sign of the fights he had been in but whether he had won or lost was for his own knowledge and not someone else's. For now, his mind wandered and his large paws carried his silver form further and further away from the Mire's borders and towards the caves.

Adeodatus had been watching the moon carefully, knowing when to strike again was the best option here and he had been training more and more. However, he felt that he needed a sign to make his move again and as he found himself going further and further into the labyrinth of caves, the cold finding its way and biting at his fur, tugging at it until he found himself shaking away the feeling of numbness. His bloodied jewels flashing with the moonlight that did flash between the cracks in the ceiling. With the cracks brought a slight breeze and on that breeze was a scent that caused the silver demon to move towards it and follow it, not caring if he was heard or not.

@Idhrael

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus

See, I gotta hunt you
I gotta bring you to my hell

Thank gods for the existence of men and their deplorable plodding gaits, their indiscriminatory boldness of entering a room unabashed, certained with a ripe, curdling audacity. Idhrael paused to confirm it were not the echo of her own soft steps but the oncoming lumber of another - unapologetically heavy, selected. The hair stood as needles up the ridge of her spine in the anticipation of being followed, too aggravated by the many potentials that came with the assumption. She hooked a narrow passage from her intended path: one blindly steeping its way into what sounded like a chamber filled with water deep enough for an unpicky vagrant's bath. This new passage routed up and curled tightly into darker crooks unladen by any pass of light, and a step that emptied sharply into a grand nothingness told her more than she cared to explore further.

She turned as quietly as she could, despite the garble of a many unkind words rose and died within her pale throat, and returned to face the coming brute. The sloughing rifts of moonlight greyed and darkened over his silhouette until they were both left to the welcoming dark of the plunging caverns. It was a small vantage she'd found, to be poised in the shallow crack of the raised duct like a leering gargoyle, but it was enough to comfort herself with the height, to have a literal jump on whoever chose to trail her.

At first is rage, as is her natural founding in most situations, to crutch on fury and viperous fire for the lack of overt brawn - coiled tight, insistent on strategizing each coming move and exit, each shining possibility that would lurch from the inevitable. But then, as a shifting breeze swept through the humid corridors, amusement instead spiraled over her features. It was different, altered perhaps by time and circumstance, but she felt confident that the high note of that scent meant too few uncertainties.

A child of Daarius. Her blundering, tyrannical uncle, mad with his power and the hungry pursuit of what he considered deliverance, what her father quietly considered absurdity. Madness; yet unchallenged. The only question now was of which of his brood had roosted in these lands, when it was a pawful of them that scattered off in the name of conquest or boredom. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in tsking fervor, delighting how the sound scattered and bounced from one corner to the next.

Idhrael is attempting (temporarily) to remain hidden. Though she can still be spoken to. Just not seen unless rolled for.
@Adeodatus

Desire, I'm hungry
I hope you feed me _{BG — REF — CODE}

Tick Tick. His claws clicked against the hard surface of the Labyrinth floors. He followed the scent until it had brought him into a bigger area and though his jewels scanned the area around him, Adeodatus did not find her. A grumble formed as he moved further into the area as he looked about his surroundings but found nothing but the shadows. So instead the Devorre beast would stop in the center and let out a grumble.

Adeodatus liked to think he wasn't like his father. Gone mad for power. Yes, he wanted it but it wasn't something he needed to require his own conquest in the future. I can smell you. He would state bluntly, letting his jewels flicker from side to side. Come out of the shadows little viper. Words were meant to be a tease but they were the truth in his own jewels.

@Idhrael

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus

See, I gotta hunt you
I gotta bring you to my hell

She breathed the cool air that filtered through the humid spaces beyond, their recesses distantly flooded with fresh mineral waters, cloying darkness. Against the hard slab of rutted granite she leaned, squinting to peer through the shadows for this hulking silhouette risen from the damp filth. I can smell you, he says, and Idhrael snorted softly at the callous assumption that she smelled, hopefully not as anything other than those low-growing beach flowers, those mountain florals, or the hard withered passages of rock-dust.

She had done her best to avoid temptation in her travels - to sacrifice days of weariness without giving in to jeering passerby and her own growling thirst. The only downfall to blood was its unmistakable scent, and a vagrant knows this best. A smart vagrant avoids smelling like a raw wound in the company of predators, and Rael is no fool-minded child naive to the workings of hunger among strangers.

But one devil is keen to another even outside of hell.

They had all grown together in the tumbling dust-scrub of the wastes, in the blissless purgatory of bygone terrors beneath the creeping shadow of the mountains. They were roiled in its ilk, scraped from the stitchings of its faraway desolation, the boreal fringe, the white-capped freeze of their cold-blooded veins. Its sense, from one to another, is as the tremble of a web beneath a spider's soft touch.

Idhrael grinned wide as he demanded her subjection. How bold, how imperial, to command her of all creatures like a simpering cub beckoned to heel. The low, malicious cut of her laughter filled the crevasse and its joining chambers, resonant and cruel. Perhaps her brother would have obliged meekly, albeit elegantly, scarcely imposed upon anything but the courtesy of one cousin to another.

How dare you, she chided amusedly, returning the tease with venom, and slipped along a ridge enshrouded in pitch darkness. Sightlessly swallowed by another niche with naught beside her voice but the sound of shifting pebbles to announce her movement, she dove within the intersecting tunnel, seemingly turned to a detour on to her previous destination. Turned away from him, the lilt of her saccharine tones swelled into the chamber beyond them, the hallways that knitted one hollow with another: The shadows are too comfortable. Înafară, nu m-am hidratat. The horror.

She giggled in spite of herself, though she had expressed her distaste in the lack of self-care with the utmost seriousness, as it had been nights since her last proper bath. The moons had not even been the best for travelling, as clouds obscured its path for much of it, and the rains shifted to snow and sleet all too frequently. It had been a hard road as consequence. She was positive that she was filthy from the inside out, and her skin crawled with the heinous trappings of unsanctified grounds well due to be consecrated in the name of Higher creatures such as herself. By a true artist - by a savant in all things of grotesque beauty. Of Devorre craftmanship and divinity.

Her eyes scraped the blackness that greeted them both, imagining his shape beyond the solid walls of the cavern tunnels, peeling stone from an imagined sight. What have you found here worth staying for? Have others stayed? Has the father-murdering miscreant come scuttling through? The latter a casual small-talk at this point among the fractured remains of a political chaos in-family. Vicarios accused of bad blood, the Devorres accused of madness, Elders accused of softness, younger generations accused of barbaric naivety. Idhrael supposed they were blessed with Anchiale finesse - she and her littermates sat back and watched it all crumble, unfettered by the squandering obsessions. They had finer tastes.

@Adeodatus
Idhrael is attempting (temporarily) to remain hidden.
Romanian: Besides, I haven't moisturized.

Desire, I'm hungry
I hope you feed me _{BG — REF — CODE}

A demon can smell a demon. Or in this case another devil. Adeodatus doesn't try to find her. Doesn't go looking for her in the shadows but he keeps himself alert for any movement that could indicate that she was near him. It was the constant flicker of his ear that moved in his long silver locks that proved such motion. On occasion, Adeodatus would move and turn towards the walls where he looked into the shadows but saw nothing, though he heard the snort coming from her throat, it didn't give a pin point of where she was.

Adeodatus sometimes forgets that his cousins aren't like Astarte or Gauthier. That they don't come to his ever call and command. It was a nice change in pace. A smirk formed on his features at her remark. He shifted slightly as he heard her voice echo off of walls and his bloodied jewels glanced back the way he had come from, unsure. Arătând niște scale off suntem? He would muse at her, glancing around to any of the other tunnels that she could have possibly gone into.

Finally he moved towards one of the tunnels, unsure it was the one she had gone into but it was known that each tunnel eventually connected to each other. There is plenty here to take if we so desire. A mountain that is much better than the one we left behind. He planned on taking it for himself eventually, but he was still training before he failed again. As far as him. I followed him here but he has disappeared again like the coward he is. Astarte is here however. How would that effect her now?

@Idrael

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus