Impervious Ice

[Xailyn Rose]

Bleed.
…no longer white, a bloody Rose…
Demoness.
…she comes straight from hell…
Fall.
…feathers have fallen; wings are torn…
Down.
…she comes, a blackened soul…

Revenge taunts one’s tortured mind.

It felt something was amiss; something was incomplete. She felt incomplete. An itching feeling tormented her entire body, causing her to succumb to a numbing feeling. It froze her; her whole form was becoming frozen. To touch her you would cringe away, for the feeling of ice, and despair would flow through your veins. You would feel how the demoness did always. But the hard part was to pull away, once the overwhelming feeling of numbing sadness hit you, sometimes you couldn’t stop. It could be the fact that the one who touched her almost liked the sickening depression, or they just couldn’t pull away from the force of attraction.

The only thing to warm the demoness was blood; as soon as the warm, crimson fluid washed down her throat it filled her with a sense of normality. It was then you could touch her, when the lively liquid pulsed through her veins she felt alive. Other then that, a simple poke to the demoness’ flesh slowly killed you, freezing your insides until there was nothing left.

Fallen from Heaven, and pushed up through the ground from Hell. A torturous experience it was, though endurable. The demoness was cursed with the power to kill, and she enjoyed it. Thus giving her the name of a demon. She was, Xailyn Rose.

Pale complexion, ruby eyes, lime hair low lighted with black streaks made up her appearance. Black, satin gloves sealed her power, and a mid-thigh black dress adorned her body. Pale blue lace accented her outfit, some rimming the gloves, the rest outlining the dress. Her hair rested gently upon her shoulders, creating an odd contrast with her pallor.

Scarlet eyes were outlined in heavy kohl liner, and opened with mascara. Her bow-shaped lips were glossed with a mahogany lipstick, enhancing her beauty.

Xailyn’s heeled feet cautiously stepped through the forest, dodging massive trees with ease. A timid expression was shown on her face as she battled to feel confident about striding through the unfamiliar place. The demoness stopped dead in her tracks, a noise causing her to be alert. The 5’2 demoness felt really small amongst the greenery, and perhaps compared to what was stalking her.

[Mikayla (back <3)]

((If I am not welcome, tell me and I'll go....))

BLIND

The world echoed through a mind so confused, so jumbled, that it seemed to shatter the very walls holding that fragile mind from breaking to pieces. How long was she haunted? How long did torment follow her by foot, by air? Since Mother and Father first left. Since it first found itself among hostility, pain. Since death flowed through its very essence, the torments dying at the tearing of fangs to become ghosts and further their purpose. And it was very clear, their purpose was death for the young one. After all, it was she, the hated one that had survived. No more fitting a scenario could be played than her death by the hands of those she was too late to save. Those she could not have saved even if she had been there on time. Those who haunted Mikayla.

It is a fool's quest to find a home that loves you.
Are you a fool, Mikayla?

"No." It was a whisper, no more than a whisper uttered between frightening trees among a more frightening night. A girl, no, a young woman stumbled in the darkness, her soft jeans torn, the only protection for her pale feet blood. Her shirt was in no better condition, ripped across the stomach as if some great beast had shredded it. Her honey hair was in a tangled mess of a ponytail, bobbing slightly with her irregular steps. A dirt mark smeared across her cheek, emphasizing swollen lower lids of electric blue eyes. Was this truly the beauty who had entered the tunnels seeking a home?

Mikayla snarled quietly, softly, wishing she had left all alone and allowed herself to be miserable among humans and humans alone. Instead she sought another home, one not the tunnels that rejected her, but one now in the forest. She had alliance to neither, although that could easily change. Her mixed gait, however, ended as she caught scent of something...something she had never smelt before. Someone who was different, not human, not lycan, not faerie, but...something.

She followed that something, curious, hungry, without any sense left in her battered mind. It seemed to know she was there, to hear her on its tail. It smelled...dangerous.

Mikayla paused where she was, having tripped on a branch, paused to hear the something stop too. It must have heard her slight slip in the woods. She moved forward until she could see what it was in the silence of the night, under the soft spill of moonlight. The creature she saw caught her breath in her throat.

It seemed to be a woman in the night, one with hair bright as grass streaked with a color dark as night. Her eyes were the color of fire itself, glowing against a backdrop of pale skin. Her lips were a rouge of sorts, her eyes seemed to be framed with more of that night color. She was like nothing Mikayla had seen before. Sure, she had seen colored hair, and strange eyes, but never eyes of fire and hair that seemed so bright even amongst the barely lit forest.

"I...I am Mikayla," she mumbled, the only thing keeping her unafraid being the amazement she held for this creature of the night. After all, she was only a lycan, only a werewolf, and this was something she had not seen in her entire life under the moon. "What are you?"

[Xailyn Rose]

OOC: Of course you are welcome, and beautiful post. ☺

The cool, serene night air wisped past her form, causing her hair to flow delicately in the breeze, her dresses to move in sync with her silky strands. The green haired woman sensed confusion in the air, ones mind seemed clouded. The feeling completely took over the calm the forest had to offer, it was the only thing the demoness could undergo. It caused her porcelain features to collapse into a frown, her fiery eyes scanning the area before her, trying to find the source of the corrupted mind.

She brought a silkily clad hand up to her head, pushing back the strands of her hair, allowing them to fall back and frame her face. Her eyes now moved frantically about the forest, the feeling clogging the forest was unnerving to her. Thud. The demoness’ form whipped around, turning to the source of the sound. It sounded like someone fell, then tried to silently recompose themselves, trying not to be seen by the demoness’ icy glare.

I hear you
Don’t walk away
Come out and play

Thoughts resounded in her head, her vision finally finding a human form. The girl now approached her, seemingly confidant, though an aura of doubt and interest held her, the demon could tell by simply staring in her direction. A silent sigh fled from her lips, this girl was not human at all. She instantly told herself that this was a lycaness, cautiously stepping towards her.

Xailyn couldn’t suppress the chuckle that spilled from her mouth as the girl stuttered, what was there to be afraid of? A lot. But, still, she was a lycaness was she not? Did she have no confidence in herself? It almost felt good to know she was feared from another creature. Her eyebrows rose lightly, eyeing the lycan’s tattered figure. She looked like she had been caught in battle, but her beautiful features still shone.

“I’m a demoness, darling, and, I’m Xailyn,” the icy demoness didn’t know why she chose to throw around her name, though it should be known. Everyone would soon know the ice Xailyn could bring, how cold she could turn somebody. A twisted smile weaved its way onto her lips, before returning her attention to the lycaness. She stepped closer to her, her arms folded across her chest.

[Mikayla (back <3)]

((thank you, and same back. propz for us both for being so keenly aware of descriptions of eachother ^.^))

The creature whipped around, confronted Mikayla, and it was all she could do not to shudder under that icy glare. The woman was so cold. There was no comfort to be found for a freezing heart in the artic...was there? She could not help the feeling, the small sing-song voice that said this creature, this demoness as she called herself would cause her no more pain than she already felt. In fact, she felt deliciously of acceptance to Mikayla. Cold embracing cold, confusion embracing confidence, the rebuilding of a broken mind found in the twisted one of another. It was only fitting, and it did fit. This could be the only reasoning for why, when the demoness took one step toward the tattered lycaness, the confused wolf did the same, closing the distance more.

Did Mikayla not feel the ice, the death that seemed to emnate from that beautiful demoness before her? She seemed as beautiful as different as... "Myself." Another whispered word, said only because mind and outside, fantasy and reality had become one. It seemed as though this demoness was everything Mikayla had been in her own way. Where there was confident ice had there been confident fire, a dominance conquered by none. How could it have come to this?

The wind whispered soft nothings, soft words in Mikayla's sensitive ears. Her nose twitched, the clearing smelled of leaves, of earth, and of that demoness, that scent of...cold. It struck Mikayla. Everything about the demoness was so cold. It meant nothing to her, however, and she smiled, a shadow of the radiance that had been. "Its a pleasure to meet you, Xailyn. I've never seen anything so...so..." Beautiful. Free. Amazing. "different."

Why are you like this?
So beautiful, so free,
different like a rare flower,
dominance is your plea.

You cry to a world,
it doesn't understand,
you are who you are,
and you are grand.

"I was once like you," Mikayla stated calmly, although her mind never told her to say it. It just felt...right. More right than anything had been going lately. "They hated me for it. It doesn't matter, though. They're dead now." Dead now. Dead and haunting. Shattering. Destroying. How much more could she take?

[Xailyn Rose]

I am ice
I can shatter
I can melt
But… I thought I was untouchable

Playing ‘follow the leader’ the lycaness mimicked the demoness’ step, making the distance between them lessen. No definable expression played across her face, except for the same examination that the lycaness put upon her. Crimson eyes continued to run along her form; secretly trying to read the girl, for the question lingered of what the she-wolf was all about. Now that there bodies came closer, the demoness knew the lycaness could feel the cold radiate off her pastel form. She didn’t hold the normal warmth that most did, simply ice, ice cold. It could be a gift, and yet such a curse.

“Myself”

The word could scarcely be heard by most, but the demoness picked it up amongst the wind all to easily. A frown furrowed her brow, what was this about? Why did she study her so, reciting ‘myself’ she was not this girl, how could the girl know? She didn’t know Xailyn; she couldn’t read past her wall of ice. Impossible. “Pleasure to meet you, too…” The demoness said, her words slightly slurred, her mind trying to capture another hidden word from the lycaness. Different? That wasn’t a compliment. The demoness had never considered herself normal; she wasn’t, so this shouldn’t faze her.

“How were you once like me?” The demoness demanded, however her voice came out passive. It troubled Xailyn while this girl studied her, calling her different, thinking Xailyn was like herself. It almost angered her. Why? She felt the need to be answered while confronting the lycaness. Her pearl shaded teeth grinded, her look deepening, trying desperately to see through her own block of ice, and finally think of another.

“You…you don’t know me,” the demoness uttered out, biting her lower lip to keep her voice steady. The worst thing that could happen to her was for someone to understand her, relate to her, fill her with any bit of warmth.

[Mikayla (back <3)]

Save me from myself
Only you could have been trusted

Dying is now my hobby
I don't believe in happiness
For once you meant the world to me
For once I needed you to fix me
Entitled to my own needs
Rolling to my knees before you
Enraptured by your presence until
Noticing that we were the same
Too bad before you could fix me, you needed to fix yourself.

[/i]

Wind met Mikayla's face, calming her slightly as she watched the demoness with the same fascinated look upon her face. She obviously had not liked what Mikayla said. Only...she had been to busy to notice the snapping together of Xailyn's eyebrows, or the suddenly terse way she was addressed. The cold, even that cold did not seam as biting. When had the shoes switched from foot to foot, so now Mikayla the unbalanced was tad bit sure and the confident demoness was stumbling?

How were you once like me? You...you don't know me.

Now it was the demoness stuttering, but, why? Mikayla closed another bit of the distance, tilting her head as she would have in wolf form. Her hair swung to the side even in its tangled mess, making her eyes look larger...somehow clearer. She noticed the way the demoness bit her lip, noticed how she seemed nervous. And she knew that there was no good answer to the question the demoness asked, no way to bring the situation back to terms.

"Well...I mean...I was once so confident. Your eyes...they are extraordinary, they seem so...icy." Her head tilted the other way as if the movement would help Mikayla grasp what she herself meant. "Mine were once like that...only with warmth. They were unnerving, what people always thought made me...dominant. You could break me, but you couldn't break my eyes." And how true that was as her charged gaze looked at the demoness. Sure, it wasn't as bright as before, but her eyes...her soul, and the window to it, could never be dimmed.

Mikayla stopped giving Xailyn the force of her eyes, looking at the sky instead. "You also seem to belong wherever you are just as you are, but not belong with the place. You fit here in the forest, but your eyes...your hair...just, the way you stand seems to not particularly fit it like a-a-" She stopped. Choked on the word that meant so much to her and could never be hers. "Like a........" Her second try was not much better. Gathering her courage, she focused on a particular cloud and let the word roll off her tongue in a whisper. "Home."

A bird fluttered to the center of the clearing, drawing Mikayla's narrowed eyes to it. It chirped, hopped a bit, then flew to a near-by tree where it landed in its nest. To her, the chirp sounded like death. Of course, that could have been that she was just a tad bit jealous. Her mind was uneasy, tottering from side to side, tilting after she spoke the cursed word. "I am no longer that person, however, so you can rest assured you are yourself and no one else is like you." Despite the cold, brave words, Mikayla's arms snaked around eachother, holding herself close. She would not-could not-meet the demoness' gaze now, and so she looked anywhere but at Xailyn, following the life of the clearing instead of face one who now knew her secret.

[Xailyn Rose]

OOC: I’m so sorry I took so long!

The wind that probably felt cool to Mikayla hit Xailyn, making her feel extremely warm. The sensation was odd, not usually did warmth touch her frozen skin. The demoness silently recomposed herself, the girl wasn’t about to figure anything out, she just somehow could relate to her. That shouldn’t scare one as powerful as her, her ice was far too thick for one to even dream about getting close to Xailyn. For one to think they could comment on how they were once like her, could she be read so quickly, like child’s book? The ice demoness thought herself more deceiving.

She entwined her own fingers, loosing the nervous exterior, only to play the look of power, and hold an elegant confidence. Mikayla tilted her head to the side, glancing at her in a wolf-like gesture. She was being studied, great; the girl could try and relate more. An icy breath escaped almost too heavily from her taut lips.

“My eyes, icy, well, I tend to fall around the category of ice…” She spoke, her voice holding a hint of amusement. After she replied, the lycaness said how her eyes held warmth, as the demoness’ held cold… It was odd, Xailyn’s eyes were fiery, a scarlet red, while Mikayla’s were icy, an ocean blue. So they did hold differences, but almost alike differences. She brought a gloved hand to her chin, propping her right arm up with her left arm. The demoness’ gaze settled on her eyes, understanding what Mikayla was saying. But she’s not like that anymore…what happened? The green haired woman decided to press the question later, if she dared.

Their intimate gaze broke as Mikayla brought her eyes skyward, again parting her lips to speak. “I don’t fit anywhere,” the demoness said, the lycaness seemed to show difficulty to say the word home. “I don’t belong anywhere, where can you go when you are untouchable? You are always distant, I could be in a room full of people, but I wouldn’t fit because I can’t feel, all I feel is a numb, bitter sensation. I only get cynical satisfaction and sometimes that’s not enough, so how am I like you? I know you can feel, can’t you?” The words seemed to flow from her, her voice becoming slightly hoarse, she didn’t mean it to be, what she said, it was how she really felt, most times she felt like she was apart from everyone, everything because she couldn’t feel, even other demons could feel. Other demons could have the ability to touch, without their skin having to be covered.

“Well… If you aren’t like me, then you are lucky, you shouldn’t be like me,” she said, her voice coming out in a dull hiss, it was so true, who would want to be like the demoness?

[Mikayla (back <3)]

That soft wind became harder, pushing against Mikayla with force. It sent chills up her arms and down her back, causing an involuntary shudder. Xailyn's words ceased the shudder, however, as Mikayla concentrated on what was being explained to her. Of course, there was more than just the words, her electric eyes sliding to take in clasped hands, yet still avoiding the demoness' eyes. The look was enough to notice composure so quick, so extreme could only be a cover.

There was amusement in the demoness at her words of ice, and Mikayla's hands involuntarily clasped eachother. Her eyes darted to meet Xailyn's without being bidden to do so. She had known what it was like to be fire, but what, she wondered, was it like to be ice? "That must be interesting..." she murmured, instead of asking about it. A question passed through red eyes faster than blue ones could follow, and so another question was disregaurded for the rest of the explanation.

I don't fit anywhere. "And yet you are so steady where you stand..." Mikayla stated absently. I can't feel...so how am I like you? She fell to the ground without grace, sitting in a heap of comfort as her eyes continued to stare at Xailyn. "Well, you can't feel and you want to feel. I can feel and I don't want to. Isn't that enough to make us alike? Or must we both be the exact same to find ourselves in the same gray area of life?" You are lucky, you shouldn't be like me.

Mikayla laughed then, abruptly, enjoying the feeling of pure amusement corsing through her. "Lucky? Me?" Her voice did not become bitter until the next words. "I lived for years a hated in my 'home.' Vampires killed them all, freed me from their bodies. And yet, know what? People don't need bodies to haunt. In fact, haunting works so much better without bodies attatched." She toyed idely with her hair, voice sliding into the matter of fact tone. "I'm barely sane. Its pure 'luck' that I'm not insensible right now, seeing the world through broken eyes."

"And yet somewhere, somehow in all this, I'm lucky to be me. Well, hell, Love, just point out the luck and maybe all my dreams, everything I've ever wanted will come through you, because it hasn't come to me in eighteen years of life."

[Xailyn Rose]

OOC: Wow, I am sorry x100, I got grounded for quite awhile...

BIC: The wind toyed with their forms, sending hair flowing, and various pieces of clothing moving gently against the breeze. Her cold gaze now rested confidently on the lycaness, all though many of her secrets were out. That mischievous, icy smile still lingered at the corner of her lips, threatening to twitch into that sinister grin that was so familiar to the ice demoness. Alas, she kept her face plain, taking in all that had happened, contemplating it in her mind.

Almost nervously Mikayla’s eyes darted towards her own, that was when that grin slipped, her moment of nervousness caused a shiver to drive down her spine. “Indeed, interesting,” Xailyn said, turning to a tree, she slipped a glove off, placing her hand against the lively bark. Immediately the bark was covered in ice, slowly dying from the dropping temperature. Branches cracked, and a few leaves shed as a thick layer of frost overtook them. “Icy,” the word was uttered simply, her glove slipping back onto that porcelain hand of hers, the one that contained the powers to a chilling death. If you looked close enough, you could see her breath clouding in the air, that’s how cold she was.

“Steady where I stand,” the demoness repeated, taking in the lycaness’ words, watching as she fell helplessly onto the ground, staring up at her from her sitting position. “You’re right,” the demoness said simply, taking in what Mikayla said, nodding solemnly. “We are alike, our differences are alike,” she said, trying to get it into words, the idea was well formed in her mind, but she couldn’t quite get those words she was looking for.

A bitter laugh escaped the woman’s lips, words following, bitterness shining through evidently, some twisted amusement she spilled out into the open. She seemed to loose her sanity with every word, saying that she was barely sane. The demoness understood the effects of torment, understanding what the lycaness was going through. But not completely. Because they were different. Alike.

“Well luck hasn’t come to me in 900 years, or how ever old I am, I’m just a block of ice, count yourself lucky, don’t say you aren’t, being numb is no treat, I’d die to feel. Scarcely can I feel any emotion, you can heal, you can feel whatever the hell you want. You can feel…you can feel love. Bliss, all those emotions can come to you if you want them, or if you don’t want them. At least you have a choice, girl, why don’t you consider yourself lucky?” She now spoke more so than before, a powerful tone emerging from her throat, the scarce tinge of anger welling up inside her. Didn’t she get it?