Lé Prince/ess

[Maí Lé Rosà]

The seasons had changed quickly, and a chilled breeze sent long sugar-white hair around the demoness' body, tangled in it's midst but flicked out at the tips. Her snow-coated complexion was in shadow, giving it a dull shade of grey, the kind one can see on a photograph when it hasn't been completely developed to reveal all it's secrets.

Stalks of ash were bent out under ebony material, illuminated by the quarter moon only just, and seemingly a crooked branch on a paperbark tree. These legs were ever so agile, strong too, despite their currently lazy and somewhat morbid demeanor. Those ebony skirts fell in ripples around cut thighs, streaks of rusty maroon blood painted smudged patterns on her outer legs.

The rusty colour would have matched her eyes, had they been open, but instead a heavy cloud of shadow rolled over the outers of her eyelids, veiling them in black so the demoness could dream peacefully. Yeah, right.

She turned on the tree branch, pushing pressure on the deep slit down her left forearm with the fingers of her other hand as her eyes remained closed - tight in an expression of pain and anguish. "Eurus.." She continued to murmer, shifting her head to each side constantly.

Finally she let out a roar and her eyes flashed open with a wild rage in them somewhere. This soon enveloped into sorrow, thank heavens for the forest inhabitors, and she curled her knees up to her chest and lowered her forehead on them, tucking her arms in between her thighs and corsét as snug as she could. It didn't matter that her skirts had fallen askew and her undergarments were visible, it didn't matter that she bled from the limbs of trees in the forest scratching her as she ran, and it didn't matter that she couldn't fall into a peaceful, or at least deep slumber.

The demoness bit down on her emotions, banishing tears and frowning back an explosion of fury that would most likely end up with the entire forest set ablaze. Instead she uttered a name through cracked lips; a name that would hopefully wake a little mister, a name that would call a little horror to most, but a little shoulder nontheless for her to lean on.

"Laharl.."

[Laharl]

Fluttering folds, a wind cut short.
Strained and cracked eyes, fatigued blood sport.
A hideous sight, I'm sure you'll agree,
My dearest sister, this was something that you were never. Meant. To see.

The scent of stagnant blood began to float in, perhaps ushered in by a passing breeze. Or perhaps it had been there for a while, but it only allowed itself to subtly settle inside the senses of this gorgeous demoness. A pair of eyes floated briefly in the canopy, though only remained for a moment before darting to another vantage point.

The scent grew stronger now, though it wasn't harmful to the nostrils. Rather, it had a stronger tendancy to tear at the esophagus. As if to take every concievable salt that one could conjur in a labratory, create a watery solution with those minerals and force a person to down it in one gulp. The blood of dozens upon dozens of various animals, every one of them sullied into death in the most miserable and horrifying ways imaginable. So many rare, mystical creatures that would otherwise be of use to the researchers at the school. So many of them, torn to silly shreds so meaninglessly.

By This Thing.

At a centerpoint in the canopy, no more than 40 feet in front of the crouching demoness, an ominous and abnormally large shadow appeared upon the forest floor. Was it a giant buzzard with a renegade thirst for indiscriminate carnage? Close.

The shadow turned smaller as the object floated to the ground, and it certainly was not the most graceful landing ever, as the thing landed with a clumbsy thud on its side. It was infact no carrion bird of any sort. From that distance, with its tattered and utterly ruined cloak, it appeared to be more like a ragdoll ravaged by a neighborhood dog.

Without needing to use its hands, the thing bent up inversely from lying on his back, all the way to standing upon his feet. Tilting his head towards the demoness, the mutant turned towards her with a single eye. No longer were his dirty locks pure indigo as they wetted themselves solidly upon his face, obstructing one of his eyes. What was he wet with? A hint, it was not water. And he was splattered with it. Wearing it. His locks even bore the ruined crimson in certain spots.

[Maí Lé Rosà]

The smell of gruesome murder - several upon several times - sent Mai's mind into a sickened frenzy of whirls and twirls. Her imagination made her dizzy with ideas of hallucinations, dillusional disfigurement, erupted patterns and shapes of a swooning grey. She felt sick to the stomach, and not even a second passed before she lurched forward, dry reaching.

Something was nearby, and she should have guessed it to be Laharl, but in her weak state her garnet orbs darted frantically this way and that, left, right, center, up, down, and there it was. One blood-coloured eye looked up at her, and she couldn't help but shiver, whether from the cold, or from his hidious appearance would be left to one's own decision.

The smell. It was horrible. She choked back the urge to vomit, and her hand clamped itself over her mouth as she straightened her legs out and hung them over the side of the branch. Swallowing regurgitation, the pink rims around the demoness' eyes caught the moonlight, and her teary eyes gazed down longingly at the figure below.

The blood must have been on the demon for countless days, months even. Shivering again, Mai wriggled to either side like a human would, just before jumping off a height, only when Mai left the branch, her wings unfolded, catching her and easing her to the ground gently, before folding back up and disappearing into her scapula's.

"Laharl.." She sobbed again, scrunching her face up in tears again as the blood shifted from the scent of Laharl, to those many animals, people even, and Eurus. Suddenly enough, Mai's knees buckled and her arms enveloped the grotesque demon-boy before her, she buried her face in his carmine shoulder and her body wracked with sobs.

It was a hopeless mess really, the two of them.

[Laharl]

The demon boy's claws sprang out, every bit as reflexively as drawing in breath. It was true, this little lordling really had outdone himself in terms of needless killing. Deep in his subconscious, the boy would have been the first to admit that he's done his share of bullying, both of the local creatures and the deserving fool students that occasionally crossed paths with him. It was a stepping stone for him, though, as each victim allowed him to sharpen his claws more. And now look, they had all but dulled themselves to worthless stubs refined from his body's dead cells. Instruments that would otherwise be useless if not wielded with such a mercilessly vicious intent.

This creature though, was exceptionally beautiful. Her ebony hair floated all about her as her black wings soared her over the running distance most creatures would have to toil with. Every action she conducted showed the greatest in meticulosity and care as she neared him. Memories began to trickle into his subconscious, locked away by the base instinct to destroy all that which lived, and particularly all that which was beautiful. This was not the first time she leapt at him thus.

/~/~/

Le-Splash!!!

"Awww sis, not another stinking BATH!" whined the demonling as he squirmed and thrashed violently to escape from Mai's knowing grip. This was one of the many occasions where she entrapped him like this, mainly because she couldn't stand his stench. It was so very sneaky of her.

"But Laharl, you look so cute when you're all sudsy!" Giggled the demoness, one of the scarce few moments she even felt the urge to do so. Her fluid movements to escape his legs and claws were almost as if forseen in his movements as she cooly scrubbed at him and took away the dirty. This was one of the mystical rarities of the forest, to see a creature more beautiful than all the fallen angels of Hell, or the soaring angels of heaven, simply giggling. It was something that Laharl never noticed, something that never mattered to him. But all the same, there was always an inate drive inside him to protect gifts like that. Gifts which were his alone to treasure. That was why he infact lashed out at almost anyone.

Another painfully sweet memory stabbed into the back of his brain, each moment growing more susinct as it progressed. The little fawn Elise, whom Laharl had also met upon first arriving here, also held a large place in what one dared to call his heart. As a young girl, she was always so quiet and reserved, somewhat difficult to talk to. After a while though, Laharl's air of nervousness desolved when around her. He found that eventually the two were holding hands while walking and talking, even though she would scarcely ever talk. She became an outlet for the boy's heart. And she always firmly believed in his aspirations to dominate the Netherworld; Elise's leafy green eyes said it all. And Elise's sudden growth spurt into relative womanhood and shedding of her childhood shyness......well, that's a story to be saved for another time.

Each memory, despite how warm and inviting, only tore at the boy's ignorantly pure black heart. Two pairs of fingers already digged into the crusted meat of that now slowly pumping muscle; next came the perverbial thumb. And this was what was was to soon push the Demon Prince into a seizure.

The impish demon's time in captivity at the BFC was a long-drawn blank. None of the scientists dared to release him from his stasis like the others; they knew every one of them would die if that happened. Despite this however, a cold presence neared the boy's containment area one day, and unleashed a sea of fire upon his icey prison. Stinging from the torturous flood of cold burns that riddled his body, the incomplete prince made a desperate bid for freedom that cost him a few lives, granted that the ice prison had nearly killed him.

/~/~/

Laharl stood there, frozen yet again in place, only this time Laharl was pinned in place by the merciful flow of heat that began coursing through his body. The freeze burns that all but incapacitated his body still bore a sluggish handicap upon the prince; Mai probably would not have been able to tell from all the blood that caked his extremeties. Laharl wanted to speak out, wanted to cry out to the demoness that clutched him so tight to her. The woman was so very soft, her gentleness was choking him. His head tilted upwards, almost erect as his breathing became strained, and eventually stopped. The boy's heart was broken, because his mind was very lost. His pupils disappeared in the back of his eyelids, leaving only the choked sounds of his straining breathing as his mind struggled to reaqquaint itself with his newfound heart.

(OOC) Whooo.....that was a tad lengthy. Mai, really, you dun' have to reply to this immediately. Take all the time in the world you need. ^^