Description: In a desperate attempt to save her lover from death, Kiyomi seeks out the help of the Dark Messiah to heal the lethal injuries of Lune.
Celle Ligure's gorgeous Mediterranean beachfront has quite the reputation among summer vacationers: it's a popular getaway for students of the nearby University of Genoa, and a great place for Savona locals to get away.
But right now, it's a hole: literally. At roughly four in the morning, local time, a pale crimson shaft of light descended from the heavens, expanded into a perfect column of light, and shoved Celle Ligure down into who knows where. Even the light of the sun on a cloudless day was not enough to cast light onto the mysterious crater. The media has pulled the "sinkhole" term out of its magic hat of words, but it's not a sinkhole.
City streets go right up to the hole, before stretching down into the gap, as if the street itself were made of taffy. Buildings on the boundary have been distorted, neatly shorn off as if caught in a guillotine.
In all actuality, Celle Ligure is perfectly fine. It's just on the other side of this anomalous crater. A faint scent of blood is in the air -- those with more discretionary senses might be able to associate that scent to one individual in particular: Jedah Dohma's mark is all over this anomaly. The very wound in the countryside seems alive -- time and space seem to bend at regular intervals, the air pulsing with energy.
Suffice to say, there aren't any people in this area. Those who had been here... left out of fear for their lives. But those who remain are either dense, stupid, or newscasters in helicopters.
Kiyomi was always on the look out for supernatural events such as these : she had grown old and wise enough to know that they are often created by creatures much like herself, though that sometimes possess far greater power than her own. The news about this sinkhole brought the vixen to Italy...
It was a potential glimmer of hope and it was enough to soothe her rage and give her some clarity of mind.
As the vixen grew nearer to Celle Ligure, her senses allowed her to pick the scent of blood. It was something familiar that she recalls from a previous encounter with someone of her kin.
Kiyomi was unlike all who were still in the vicinity. She studied the crater for a long moment, staring at it. It might be enough to scare most, but the vixen had to draw closer if she wanted to find him.
Tails swaying gently behind her, arms folded in front of her, she slowly approaches the mysterious spacial distortion.
Among the many buildings surrounding the spatial distortion, there is one in particular that stretches four stories tall. Painted a pastel shade of pink, the building facade matches the beachfront's festive attitude. Completely nondescript to those of mundane senses.
But to Kiyomi, it would stand out as a beacon. For there is one extraordinarily pale fellow, leaning in the shade of said building. Perhaps he's been standing here a minute... perhaps for hours. It's hard to tell, as he shows no sign of exposure to the sun.
The man, dressed in dark violet hues, is also holding a rather large walking stick. And he turns nonchalantly towards Kiyomi as she approaches. His gaze roams down for one look at the eye-catching tails, before those red irises focus upon her delightful facial features.
"Lady Renard... I had a feeling you might be stopping by." A warm, languid smile crosses his face, as he gestures towards the perimeter of the anomaly with his long fingertips. "Do you like what I've done with the place? It was so... noisy before." The faintest hint of a chuckle can be heard from him, as he keeps an eye on the vixen's expression.
This special insight Kiyomia has : she calls it instinct. Her senses drew her to this particular building and she felt there was something strange about it. The woman is wise and cunning enough to associate it with a part of the phenomena going on around here, though she couldn't quite tell what was the link.
Her eyes catch the silhouette atop the building and she narrows her eyes a bit, until she recognizes the man who has, likewise, spotted her. Her lips curl into a gentle smile and she turns her eyes off into the distance to stare at the anomaly he had created.
"You have done this?" She asks, though her intonation shows she's not surprised he would be the one to pull off such a feat. She hums softly, her tails swaying behind her as she admires, "Remarkable... I had to see this with my own eyes, it is magnificent..." She admits.
He made it sound like it was so easy, so simple for him to crush this city. "Why did you do this?" She asks. Mere curiousity. "And why did you think I would stop by?" She adds.
Jedah is a braggart, that much is patently obvious. But he's got enough experience to be smooth about it just the same, like someone taking a draw from an elegantly long cigarette while striding past a 'no smoking' sign. Hence -- his enthusiasm is kept at a pleasantly amused level, rather than obnoxious.
In a sense... it -was- easy for the bloodweaver. And he's pleased at what her tone suggests, and how it differs from the way she crafts her response to placate his ego the most. Good manners go a long way with the self-anointed savior.
"I'm delighted that you agree. What we have here is but an experiment of mine. Those residents of this fair city have been invited to step into a larger theatre. Instruments, if you will... of a grander scope."
He raises a long fingertip to his forehead, brushing loose strands of his golden hair out of his vision. The wind around the anomaly is beginning to pulse a bit more. He begins taking long, purposeful strides away, motioning for Kiyomi to do the same.
"I've been following your adventures with interest. You've been winding your way into a great number of human organizations... making yourself out to be quite the champion of their ideals." A misleading turn of phrase to anyone who isn't aware of Kiyomi's past, to be sure.
"It seemed appropriate for you to be concerned about the potential loss of life, but I assure you... no one who lived here has truly been -harmed-. Yet."
The woman remains silent and observes the anomaly for the time being. She feasts her eyes upon it, like one would in front of a piece of art, as if trying to understand the deeper meaning behind all of this. The mystery only thickens with Jedah's explanation and Kiyomi arches a curious brow in Jedah's direction. She does not voice it, but her expression cannot conceal she thirsts to know more about all of this.
The woman turns on her heels and she follows after Jedah, taking long slow steps by his side, her tails waving idly behind her. "Is that so?" She asks, her lips curling into a smile, "I suppose I should feel flattered you have kept an eye on me..." She admits with modesty.
"Do not misunderstand me, Lord Dohma," The woman replies, "I careless for the lives of humans, and would not bulge a finger if you were to slaughter them all," She admits, "All I care is for the safety of our kin -- those humans you talk off have proven to be a good way to protect the weaker Darkstalkers against humanity... For now,"
Heaving a soft sigh, the woman lowers her gaze and says, "They have been more active at trying to destroy us, and I have been exorting my revenge on them on many fronts..."
The woman's stride slows down a bit and she bites her lip, "Milord, if you would..." The woman says, her intonation pleading, almost begging, "There is something I would request out of you if it may be within your power..."
Lord Dohma pivots on his heel and stops a fair distance away from the anomaly, gesturing to it. "Watch, for just a moment."
The air around the anomaly grows thick, takes on weight and mass all its own. Time seems to slow down for a moment -- and then the cylinder of oppressive force grows larger, swallowing the salmon-pink building whole. It is not a loud occurrence -- there is only the sound of plaster crumbling into dust, of asphalt being ground into tar.
This was the reason for retreating from the edge of the disaster. For, much like a poorly-positioned sandcastle is swept away in the face of high tide, the anomaly swallows more and more of Celle Ligure into itself.
A feral glee crosses his features for just one moment, before it's replaced once again by mild temperance. Lord Dohma finds Kiyomi's curiosity intriguing, even welcoming. But when she begins to plead him, an eyebrow is arched in her direction.
"Ask your request," he continues, winding his fingers about his walking stick. Not for support, but as a simple reminder that the limits to his power have not yet been reached.
The woman remains silent as she stares at the anomaly as it engulfs the building they were near by. It was hard not to conceal the awe in her eyes at the power that Jedah possess : unlike anything any of her pack has. Unlike them, he might have a power to actually change things and bring ruination to mankind.
The woman lowers her gaze and she bites her lips, "My pack has lost many in our struggle against humans, but..." She lifts her gaze up at him, her expression meek and vulnerable as she speaks, "One of my fellow has been critically wounded.. I tried to tend to his wounds, but his condition kept getting worse,"
She lowers her gaze, a shiver running down her spine, "I have tried many things, but I fear he lost too much blood, and his wounds too deep to heal..."
"Lord Dohma, ye who possess this innate power over blood, might you be able to help him?" She begs softly, a sob making it harder for her to finish this. She controls herself for a moment, regaining her composure but she clears her throat, turning her gaze away, as if she was afraid to hear the answer, dreading to let her hope enthrall her.
Dohma is not ignorant of Kiyomi's skills in telling listeners exactly what they want to hear. While he was perfectly amenable to listening to her speak to him in a level-headed fashion, the notion that he would give her preferential treatment for flavoring her request with her own salty tears is laughable at best.
But the bloodweaver is reassured that the emotion is heartfelt, and not a transparent attempt at manipulation. His guarded, neutral expression takes a brief upturn towards reassurance as he turns to her, offering a simple nod of his head. "Of course, Lady Renard." His pale face tinges crimson with light from another surge, as the anomaly settles into its new radius. "For... you see... this experiment is one of many that will... add to our numbers."
One spindly finger reaches out to the tip of Kiyomi's chin, in a kind suggestion that she should not fear the bloodlord. "Lady Renard. You have done so much for our kind. It's clear that you care very much for this one, so it's only natural that I do what I can to help. Where might we be able to visit him, and restore him to his full strength?"
His red irises have never been more focused onto Kiyomi's than they are now. It is not the fires of rage, but the gentle hearth of compassion that burns within.
The emotion was heartfelt : Kiyomi attempted to conceal some of her emotions, in fact. Lord Dohma did not need to concern himself with her emotional turmoil, after all, even less know about all the trouble she went through.
When he touches his chin and lifts her gaze up to meet hers. Her lips curl into a gentle smile as he acknowledges her efforts even if all of it seems vain compared to what he could do. "More than you can imagine," She murmurs softly.
Her expression seems to brighten with hope. A shiver runs down her spine and she bites her lips, "Do you think you might be able to help him...?" She asks.
"South of Russia... I've kept him hidden there, and have been tending to him but..." Could he actually do this? She regrets delaying Jedah's plan, but to Kiyomi, nothing was more important to her. "Can you come with me, to him?"
Jedah nods slowly, carefully. He may be callous, cruel... any number of words which might be listed as synonyms for 'mean' in the thesaurus. But for those who serve him well, he is willing to listen. If good help were easy to find, he would not need to expend effort creating his own, after all.
He holds the expression for just a moment more, gauging whether or not Kiyomi has more to ask of him. But as she does not, he nods quietly. "Worry not... I've no particular need to stay here tending the fire -- it will grow completely on its own, as surely as an unwatched pot will boil." He offers a comforting smile, in complete honesty.
Drawing in his breath, Jedah places one hand on the vixen's shoulder. "Time being of the utmost importance, I believe it best if we take to the skies." It's necessary to explain the gesture before he performs it -- for the next thing is for him to step behind Kiyomi, placing his other hand on her other shoulder.
And then, she may have to rely on the sensations felt through the slender bones of his fingers, as he's behind her when his demonic wings unfurl. The pressure he applies to Kiyomi's shoulders is so delicate that it should be woefully inadequate at lifting her into the air. And yet, that's what happens, as the sound of leathery wings beating can be heard behind her.
The reassuring tone yields to a more playful jab, as the pair begins to ascend. "Unless, of course, you have a faster method I'm not aware of."
Kiyomi would have not dreamed of something better. Her eyes follow Jedah with her gaze as he circles her. She seems surprised at his offer, her eyes widening.
Flying : returning to her beloved. "Yes, we must make haste..." She replies. She had no way to go faster and in the skies they would reach her hideout much faster. Her tails lower down to let him reach out for her shoulders and hold her tightly against him.
"I will guide you, when we'll get closer..." She says as they take air, "Thank you, Lord Dohma.." She whispers in gratitude. For him to follow her across countries and probably give a the breath of life to her beloved Lune... She would have not expected him to be so compassionate.
"Of course, my lady." The soft warmth in Jedah's voice suggests a special kinship with Kiyomi -- an attachment that few would be able to claim. But that is why Jedah is respected by some -- and not merely feared by all.
Flying is great -- you get to marvel at all the familiar sights and sounds from an entirely new perspective. In the literal sense, one is moving so fast over the ground. But without anything to collide with, a thousand feet in the air... it's hard to really be concerned with any of it. As the passenger of a great and powerful being like Jedah, with the gentlest of touches being all that's necessary to keep one safe, one can simply enjoy the ride.
That's the thing, though. Jedah barely needs his hands to touch Kiyomi -- in fact, his hands are only gripping her shoulders for her peace of mind. If she were to think further, she might realize that the bloodweaver is actually holding her aloft by subtly influencing the blood pumping within her veins. The comprehension that she's being levitated may become somewhat more dramatic once combined with the sheer altitude -- the cognizance that, barring some dramatic use of those foxtails, the vixen is one hundred percent at the mercy of the demon lord.
- - -
"Over here, then...?" The silky-smooth voice of the Savior asks, as it has occasionally throughout the trip. Despite the precariousness of the position, never once has the bloodweaver's control faltered in the slightest -- ensuring Kiyomi's safety is of utmost importance, especially given the speed of their flight. But now... the destination is nigh. Wings spread out, providing resistance against the wind as he flaps to the ground, the pointed toes of his boots reaching towards the ground. Only once he sets down does he motion to allow Kiyomi's feet to reach as well. "He is... close, then?"
Being a part of a pack has taught Kiyomi many things and amongst them is to respect power. It is the natural order, after all, for the strong to rule and the weak to serve under them. This was no exception, even to an outsider from her pack and Kiyomi has long acknowledged Jedah's power. The anomaly in Italy was just another proof that she was not mistaken by their first encounter. True dominance was something that could be felt in one's behaviour and posture, not only by the sheer amouth of power they possess, after all.
It wasn't the first time Kiyomi had to fly : some Darkstalker were able to carry her, though Jedah's flight was more graceful than the others that is for sure, as if Kiyomi's weight barely hindered his capacity to fly. She doesn't realize Jedah's grasp on her blood, though she feels his enthralling presence weighting on her, mistaken it for something else entirely. Her tails lay low and flat on her back to allow him to hold her more easily through the long travel.
She guides her through the sky, and a bit more once they grow close from the secret lair.
- - -
"Yes, just over there... There's a cave near the waterfall..." Even if this spot was south of Russia, they fly over a snow covered region filled with many pine trees. The current of the river is the only thing that keeps the river from totally frozing at this part.
Once her feet touches to the ground, she moves once more, not realizing she can only because of Jedah's will as she stayed still through all the trip mostly. "Yes..." She says, a bit of worry in her intonation.
Kiyomi hated to leave him alone, though her obligations with her pack left her no choice, and she knew enough about the laws of the pack that a wounded leader like he was would end up killed to end his suffering. Yet, Kiyomi couldn't and she clinged to him, refusing to let him go. Everytime she came back to tend to him, his situation seemed to get worse and she dreaded the moment where she'd return and find him lifeless.
Fortunately, today was not this day. A dozen feet into the cave, the large beast lied on a bear pelt. Bloody bandage seemed as dark as the rest of his furr and Kiyomi brought many things for him to feed himself and survive in her long absence.
She approaches him with care and she gingerly kneels at his side. One hand reaches over to caress his mane, to wake him from a painful slumber. His breathing was slow and ragged, opening his eyes seemed to require every ounce of strength he had left.
Seeing him in such a state caused Kiyomi great grief. One hand comes to her mouth, as if to cover her sobs. Powerlessness : the worst human emotion. It tore her appart and drove her mad from the inside. She manages to control herself after a moment, her hand reaching out for his to squeeze it. She glances over her shoulder at Jedah, "Please, I beg you... Save him," No fancy words, nothing.
Powerlessness. It's not an emotion Jedah longed to experience; far from it. But that is the reason behind his constructed reality, only barely glimpsed at through the junction point left behind in Celle Ligure.
But for the time being, he is content to allow Kiyomi the illusion of control. He is content to follow behind her, as if Lord Dohma were the servant and not Lady Renard. Hands fold behind his back as he casts his red-irised gaze across the features of the cave, before finally laying eyes upon the blood-caked fur of the subject of discussion. He glances at Kiyomi, once -- not seeing her eyes, but sensing her pain all the same.
Jedah Dohma finds it necessary to bite back the urge to smile at the misery -- something which an observer from behind would notice takes him driving the nail of his thumb into his forearm, drawing blood.
"Yes, I can see the disorder here..." he begins cooly, stepping closer. He may be illustrating his proper place to Lune, as he does not kneel as Kiyomi does -- remaining standing, looking down at the battered leader. "Tissue has healed, bones have mended, but the patient's protests have... complicated matters." The voice is clinical, like that of a disapproving surgeon.
Kiyomi states her request, plainly. He does not look at her -- his attention is on the servant who has -not- proven himself to the bloodlord. His voice rises in volume, the voice expanding to fill the silent void of the cave. "I am Jedah, Lord of Majigen and the House of Dohma. Mending the weak and feeble is beneath me." His voice echoes, hanging there for a moment as he focuses his gaze squarely upon Lune.
"You, sir... are far from weak." The statement comes after a delay, and it's followed by a long delay, such that the gravity of the statement can reach home properly. "But your pride is what brought you to this state. Your humility will redeem you."
Jedah arches an eyebrow. Is the man able to respond... or not? It does not matter -- for the bloodweaver has focused upon the fingernails of his right hand instead. Thinking, contemplating... and narrowing his eyes.
Have you ever experienced a heart attack? One never feels the passage of blood through the arteries until it stops, and the entire body wants to shut down, cease operating. At such moments, the absence of the beat that fuels every waking moment is a fatal omission.
It will be the most excruciating five seconds of his life.
But when it is over, the blood will begin to flow, as it always should have.
The reaper's embrace was long overdue for this werewolf. The only reason he had been clinging to life is Kiyomi's insisting cares and denial of the inevitable. He endured this pain and suffering, if only to ease and soothe her aching heart and allow her to move on, giving her the time to mourn his loss. It was only the natural order of things, and his acceptance of this fact was more out of his philosophical conviction than weakness.
He gives Kiyomi a feeble smile, rubbing her hand gently. His eyes rise up toward the other figure and he stares at him as he assesses his situation. Despite his wounded and pitiful state, there was only pride in Lune's features : the pride of a warrior who fought for his ideals. His pride was pure, impossible to mistake with arrogance as he nods solemnly to Jedah's words, showing he wholy agrees. The weak and wounded as he is should be left behind no to endanger the others. A lesson he thought Kiyomi had learned, yet she can't bring herself to apply it with him.
He barely has the strength to say anything to Jedah, and before he can muster enough strength to say anything, it is all sapped from him as this sharp pain paralyzes his whole body. His muscles stiffen, his body arch back slightly. A loud and painful gasp escapes his throat Jedah manipulates his blood and stops it within. His eyes seem blank, almost lifeless for a moment, and Kiyomi bites her lips to conceal the pain she feels for him, as well as her worries to see him in such a state.
A howl escapes his throat : the breath of life filling his entire being as the blood starts to flood anew with renewed vigor, multiplying and filling his veins rapidly, restoring his vitaly with this incredible surge of life within him. The tissues that had yet to heal fully seems empower by this sudden shift in his body, increasing his own regeneration as the wounds close though not without actually splashing and soiling the bandages further.
He curls over and moves, lifting one arm up as he feels the strength coming back to him. A bright smile curls over Kiyomi's face, dispelling any doubts she might have had. The shift in his expression showing his recovery was well on its way, thanks to Jedah.
The moment he seems to struggle to straighten up, Kiyomi lunges at him to wrap her arms against his neck, rubbing her face against his mane, sobbing in pure joy. "Thank you, thank you..." She mutters repeatedly.
The werewolf manages to recover from the sudden assault and he lifts one hand up to caress Kiyomi's hair slowly. He closes his eyes and holds her against him a moment, though he lifts his gaze up to Jedah and gives him a slow nod to acknowledge his presence, showing his gratitude with his posture. This mysterious man who came with Kiyomi and gave him a second chance at life...
Pride is the deadliest of the Seven Deadly Sins, especially in a modern society that rewards personal achievement above all else. Left unchecked, Pride can lead to the fall of entire civilizations, flush with enough hubris to believe that their beliefs and values are paramount and unassailable. Pride can be a powerful motivator. But pride before the Savior of the earthrealm is not permitted, only humility.
Though the full -pain- was only of a short duration, the process of transformation continues unabated. Thus, the Black Messiah's words are slow, as he is speaking them while concentrating. In comparison to mending poorly-repaired tissue, modifying them to suit his needs is child's play.
"I do not... often... have a schedule that permits me to make housecalls. This is... an exceptional instance." He draws in his breath, focusing on the task at hand. "As you have accepted my blessing... you accept the contract that comes with it, my child. The flesh..."
His brow furrows, as he finds another source of injury. The wounds are not as severe, but the aggravated tissues may cause slight discomfort to Lune as they are repaired. And augmented. "... The flesh is malleable, like clay, to one such as myself. But all of my work with the flesh is for the benefit of the soul."
Lune may not understand the true extent of the changes. Initially, he will feel fine. Back to proper form. But he will find himself faster and stronger than before, and more resilient to damage. Lord Dohma's fingers tense, and Lune may find his body aching to react similarly, long claws extending. "Souls are eternal. A pure soul can outlast any hardship, overcome any obstacle. A clouded soul, full of turmoil and doubt, can accomplish nothing of worth."
As Jedah's tampering with his accursed body's matrix draws to a close, his eyes open more widely -- the end of a trance. "Of the two... it should become clear that I have judged your souls worthy of the Black Messiah's blessings. Lady Renard's faith in you extends to me, as well." Lune's strength comes with an added cost, it would seem: the contract, the expectation of obedience. And quite possibly, the consequences for disloyalty.
Jedah Dohma folds his hands behind his back once more, baring his teeth in a smile as thanks are offered. "Your thanks are welcome... but ultimately unnecessary. Continuing to do acts in the service of your kind is thanks enough."
He glances at Lune and Kiyomi in turn, not rudely, as he closes his mouth to a more reassuring (and friendly) smile. "As I have done what you have asked, Lady Renard... I believe we are overdue for an introduction." He can tell the two were close. But pride... may be an obstacle that he would like to eliminate.
The werewolves days had been numbered and his beliefs lead him to accept his inevitable fate. He held on to life only for Kiyomi, though in the end, she had managed to achieve the impossible and turn the tides of fate it would seem. As his blood flows with renewed vitality in his veins, Lune can feel his entire body burns with life.
He slowly caresses Kiyomi's hair and holds on to her as she cries in happiness, though his attention is divided between her and the one who managed to change his fate and give him a second life. When Jedah finally speaks to him, Lune shifts and slowly pushes Kiyomi away from him. Unlike Kiyomi, Lune seemed to be a man of fewer words who weighted every word he spoke. A wise, old and experienced Darkstalker. He lifts one hand up to brush away tears from Kiyomi's eyes and a gentle smile curls on his beastial lips. No words had to be spoken and Kiyomi returns the same smile : she meekly lowers her gaze and lets go of Lune as he turns his attention to Jedah.
The werewolf slowly rises to his feet. He finds relative ease in doing so, in spite of his extended rest, thanks to Jedah's tinkering with his body, which allowed him to recover so swiftly. He bows his head low in obvious sign of respect, wholly agreeing with the overdue introduction : "My name is Lune," He says with his deep voice, "... Former pack leader of the Children of the Night."
"I owe you my life and will be forever in your debts," He bows his head a bit lower, an act of submission toward one he recognizes as stronger as he is. His only knowledge about this man is through Kiyomi and what she has told him. If he had any doubt about his power, his blessing and ressurection of his body was proof enough of his might.
He spares a glance in Kiyomi's direction as she slowly rises to her feet and Lune straightens himself, "... Renard shouldn't have asked you this," He says. There was obvious disapproval in his intonation toward Kiyomi, though now was obviously not the time to argue on this. "But I am grateful you came to me, and offered me a second chance at lift," His words sound honest and true.
He straightens himself up and says, "I cannot return to my pack," The news seem to obviously trouble Kiyomi, "However, shall you see me worthy, allow me to join your cause," He offers. From what he had heard from Kiyomi, his interests and Jedah's one might be relatively close.
Jedah can sense the unrest within Lune, a marked conflict with the rejuvenated energies within his body. He can sense the dynamic between Lune and Kiyomi -- love. A powerful motivator in itself, to be sure, but fraught with peril. Separating the two is not advisable, he notes, but the love can definitely be a wedge if needed.
With the tension of reconfiguring a living, breathing being having passed, his analytical eyes pass across the two darkstalkers. Lord Dohma can sense that the two have much to discuss and might rather prefer so without his presence.
But it will be at his leisure, not theirs. He bows his head subtly -- almost imperceptibly -- at Lune's submissive gesture. His acknowledgment carries much weight -- despite the werewolf and the kitsune being of different species, their pack hierarchy transcends species, and the injury is likely to have been what threatened it. Likely to have caused the unease.
"Lady Renard assumed control when you were too weak to," he states crisply. The disapproval is meant to belittle the female, to make her feel doubt in her own decision-making abilities.
Doubt is intolerable. The command structure of a hierarchy is paramount. "Her judgment saved your life, and you are as indebted to her as to me. Do not impugn her in my presence again." His voice is cold, harsh... and yet, not judgmental. He stated what he felt needed to be said, letting his words hang unanswered in the silence as he keeps his cold gaze upon Lune.
His expression softens, as he turns towards Kiyomi. Lune may have misstepped, but up till now, she has not. "If you agree to take responsibility of caring for this Lune, then I will be taking my leave. There is still much work to prepare for the coming weeks, and I've tarried much too long."
Crimson irises flicker back to Lune, along with an accomodating smile. The warmth from before has returned: his correction conveyed, the Black Messiah sees no need to continue being a stick in the mud. The contract should be sufficient to ensure loyalty, after all.
There were a few members of the pack who doubted Kiyomi's leadership : those who were mostly jealous of her position and power and how Lune had prepared her to eventually take his place to carry on their ideals and dreams once his time would have come. There had been plenty of doubt in Kiyomi's life since Lune's injuries, yet she came out of this ordeal stronger. After all, she did not defeat Lune and had to establish her dominance, but it had come with its share of doubt and stress which she had been alone to handle.
Her decision to tend to Lune's injuries was going against everything the werewolf had taught Kiyomi about the laws of nature, about the pack spirit. His reasoning was simple : by trying to safe him, she ended up endangering her life and stalled the pack somewhat. Were it not for Jedah's interference, her efforts would have been vain. In spite of this, he had not shown his disapproval up until now.
The werewolf bows his head and accepts silently Jedah's reprimand without flinching. His silence speaks for itself though, acknowledging his words that he owes his life both to him and Kiyomi's care.
The kitsune still seems a bit troubled by Lune's sudden offer to Jedah. A part of her hoped he would come back as if nothing had happened, and it might take a while to accept his reasoning but the two would have a lot to say to each other... Though not in Jedah's presence. His time was too important to deal with their conflicts.
The mature woman conceals her surprise, her stern expression growing on her face. Putting a strong front was a necessary trait for one who wished to achieve high ranks in the hierarchy, never showing any sign of weakness, "I will take care of him, Lord Domah," Kiyomi answers to him, bowing her head with gratitude. "Thank you for your time," She says again.
Kiyomi and Lune both straightens themselves and glance at each other. Their gestures almost symmetrical, staring at each other for a moment before they both glance back at Jedah as he announces his departure. He acquired both of their loyalty and it shows by how they stare at him. Through his actions and his obvious display of his immense powers.
Jedah seems satisfied at Lune's response. He was prepared for a fight from Lune, but is pleased that he hasn't needed to bare his talons. Kiyomi's tacit response does draw an arched eyebrow, but little more. Pinning Lune under Kiyomi's command is bound to be a source of disquiet for both of them. But he's already seen how Kiyomi has taken charge, used her wiles to gather a foothold where none previously existed. Ideally, she'll rise to the challenge and the pair will grow stronger. Less ideally, the two will fight to the death. But he doesn't know Lune.
And despite his words, he doesn't care one way or the other. The two are clearly lovers -- getting between the two is not worth the Black Messiah's trouble.
Though the staring is... unnerving. "My apologies," he begins, expression softening from that of a marble statue into one of a more amused nobleman. "There is much going on, and I needn't trouble you with the minutiae. Suffice to say that I am glad to see you both well."
He pulls his left sleeve up, baring his pale wrist to the light. One thumbnail flicks across his wrist, an urgent spray of blood of spattering red upon the cave wall.
He smirks, confidently, back at the other two. "I'll be in touch." Pulling his sleeve back down, he violently lashes his talons against the bloody smear in the wall. Four slashes are carved into the wall, and then four more perpendicular to those.
The blood peels away as if made of paint, and what's left behind is not the cave wall, but the multicolored walls of Celle Ligure. The real city, not the crater left behind.
"Try not to get eviscerated again before my return," are his final words, delivered with a low chuckle as he steps into the portal. His form can be seen striding through the Celle Ligure for a few moments, before the image flickers and shimmers into nothingness, leaving behind nothing more than rapidly drying blood.
Log created on 17:44:56 04/02/2015 by Kiyomi, and last modified on 03:12:02 04/06/2015.