[for Iris] And if the paths that I have travelled have tread against the flow
'Verse: Wingverse
Time: April 28, 2012, evening
Place: The feral portion of Grant Park
Character: Mio Hongo, formerly a Teme, now a newly-resurrected vampire
( There is no need for sorrow; I am coming home )
Time: April 28, 2012, evening
Place: The feral portion of Grant Park
Character: Mio Hongo, formerly a Teme, now a newly-resurrected vampire
( There is no need for sorrow; I am coming home )
She's not here, exactly, to pay Mio any respects. Mio's spirit has long ascended to a more perfect place than this; if anyone needs the blessings here, it is Iris, not Mio. She is the one, for the moment, earthbound. Not that she particularly minds, right now: she enjoys her Calling, enjoys sending others on, the biting thrill associated with having released another spirit to wonder.
It's this that she comes to feel, here in Grant Park. The still-lingering energy traces of a spirit sent on, the unmistakeable tang of death that scars this ground. It's a beautiful scar, like Iris' hand scars. Like the several jagged scars that now run across the bridge of her nose, under her eyes, from one cheek to the other: marks of a conflict with a sturdier demon than she. She took her down in the end, though, and gave her peace. Some scars mean things. She treasures them for that meaning. The scarred land here is no different.
Except... something's not right.
The scar of death is... gone?
That doesn't make sense. People don't un-die. Unless... unless....
She hears a familiar voice call out, from somewhere within the ruins, and answers back before her mind realises her mouth's formed the words.
"...Mio?"
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If this were a movie, Mio and Iris would be running into each other's arms in slow motion right about now. But this isn't a movie, it's Chicago, and Mio's spirit is still reintegrating back into her body, so the reality is quite a bit less dignified. At least on Mio's side of the equation, what she is doing more resembles wobbly stumbling more than the graceful bounding you always see on TV and in the movies.
The act of talking also means that some of the blood from where she bit her lip has gotten into her mouth. It tastes so good, and she wants more of it. But not her own blood. Her own blood won't quench her thirst.
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It really is her, she thinks, as the familiar thrill of her energy soaks into her awareness-- an energy with which she's been, as the Charun who took her life, as intimately connected as any two people can be. But how? And why? Mio shouldn't be alive... or, as seems to be the case right now, undead, a new thread of energy twisting through her soul that screams vampire to her demon mind.
She was meant to send her on. Did she do her job wrong? Has she failed as a Charun? Of all the people she's given peace over the years, Mio is the one whose ultimate fate she cared for most of all. She wanted her to have rest, to be free of her mortal trappings. But now she's here again, still to suffer, still to regret, and all the joy that comes with seeing her again can't quite make up for the feeling that she failed her.
Tears begin to well in her eyes, and when she speaks again, it's in a wobbly sort of croak.
"I... I'm sorry," she whispers, almost inaudibly, now embracing Mio in full earnest. "I promised to-- I... I let you down. I'm sorry." She shakes her head against Mio's shoulder. "I don't know what went wrong."
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With Iris so close, Mio's thirst is almost unbearable now. She can feel the beat of the little Charun's hot demon blood running through her veins beneath her fingers, and all she wants to do is...and suddenly Mio can no longer resist herself and her fangs are digging into Iris's neck and she can taste the blood in her mouth--so hot, so delicious, and she can feel Iris's beautiful soul in the blood...she never wants to stop, but she forces herself to pull back.
"I'm sorry--I didn't mean--" Mio apologizes, Iris's black blood dripping from her mouth. "I don't want to hurt you."
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But she has little time to think on it more, as a sharp pains pierces her throat and-- she knows it's Mio instantly, can feel the energies running between the two of them, and a second later it occurs to her that Mio is drinking from her, drinking her blood, and, and....
She clings to Mio with clammy hands, her knees and wings trembling violently. It's okay, she tries to say, the thought of what if she makes me a vampire too? What if I lose my demon powers? not making it quite far enough into her conscious mind to be expressed.
But her mouth isn't capable of even the simpler thought, and instead she manages something like "ungh", followed by a series of small mewling noises. It's unclear, exactly, whether she's hurt or happy. Even to herself.
She raises a hand to stroke Mio's hair, in wordless communication.
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Mio wipes the blood from her lips, and licks it off of her hand. It's undignified, she knows, but right now, she doesn't care. Even the little bit of blood she's had has begun to energize her, and with every drop she feels more--well, not alive, precisely--but stronger, steadier. She shudders in near-ecstasy as the blood trickles down her throat. She wants more--needs more. But she won't take any more from Iris; not without her consent. The young demon is far too dear to Mio for her to want to risk violating her like that.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes again. "I should have asked you first. I can--I can find someone else if you prefer."
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There's so much she wants to say right now, now that it's sinking in that Mio's back.
I kept all your things, so you won't have to buy them again. I took up training with the sword, like you said.
Did you really mean it, when you said suki desu?
But the thoughts won't linger long enough to form, pushed away by the rushing of blood in her temples. Blood, she thinks with a pleasant shiver, that's feeding straight into Mio's veins right now. Or, at least, what Mio drank is doing so. Her blood's still pouring, trickling down the front of her throat and into the swell between her breasts, sticky and warm. Going to waste, she can't help thinking. Mio's a vampire now. And this-- this could be hers.
She shakes her head at Mio's apology, running a finger over her blood-slicked throat and rubbing it against Mio's lips. "This won't-- this won't make me a vampire too, will it?" she says softly. She has to check. But her eyes are full of wanting.
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"I don't think so," Mio says. "Things work differently in every world, but from what I've heard...it's rare that a vampire can turn someone by only drinking their blood. There would be too many vampires created that way. Normally some kind of ritual is required, usually one that starts with draining the vampire-to-be of all of their blood." Mio doesn't even have to mention how risky that sort of thing is. She doesn't want to take the chance of losing Iris, not after she just found her again.
Acting upon a whim, Mio leans forward and pulls Iris into a kiss.
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Iris whimpers against Mio's lips, tasting the traces of her own blood that linger there, her knees buckling and wings flapping to steady her at the headiness of it all. Mio's back, and then there's this, something she's dreamed of for so many nights now and never imagined could be real-- and then there's the taste of death-laced blood on her lips, and the dull throb in her neck, the wetness on her skin, that reminds her--
It's safe now.
She breaks the kiss breathily, hands still tracing patterns over Mio's back, and turns her head slightly to one side, presenting her bleeding throat to the vampire.
Take all of me, she wants to say. Take everything.
But what comes out is, "...You can call me Ayame if you want to." An indirect acknowledgment, of a note shared literally a lifetime ago.
And then her eyes slip closed, only the soft beat of her blood indicating she's still there. Waiting.
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She places her mouth up against Iris's bleeding throat and begins to feed, this time not trying to hold herself back. And as she does so, she can feel her mind reaching out to connect with Iris's. It's unlike anything she's felt for as long as she can remember. There's no fear, no anger, no hate--only love and wanting as her thoughts and emotions flow through the blood that is running between them.
Can you feel this too? she tries to ask.
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Yes... I feel this. Feel it. Want it. Need it.... Her fingers grip Mio's skin more tightly, feeling the cool flesh enlivened by the hot blood running through her. Her own blood, now in Mio's veins. Bridging the aching chasm between them, making one what once was two, washing away the boundaries between body and mind.
This is better than kissing, she thinks, this deep vampiric kiss, this sinking of Mio's fangs into her very heart and soul. The only thing she can compare it to is the death-bond, the sacred link between Charun and Mark; and when she put Mio to death, she thought she'd lost that forever. For all the joy there was in seeing Mio again, there was something achingly lacking. Mio was no longer her Mark. That sacred connection was lost.
But this... this... this is almost that good. The blood draining out of her makes her feel so heady and dizzy, like she's dying herself, brushing that tantalising edge of death, and she shudders and cries out from the sheer thrill of it, clinging to Mio yet tighter. And through it all, there's the unmistakeable energy of love, of Mio's deep and abiding caring, and it feels like her heart will break. From the beauty of it. From wanting to know if Mio feels her love, too.
I knew-- your soul was beautiful, she mentally gasps. But-- never knew it was so, so, beautiful.
It's not exactly poetry, as declarations of emotions go, but her mind is too far gone for poetry now.
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Iris's declaration momentarily stuns Mio. No one--no one has ever said anything like that to me before, she replies in wonderment.
Eventually, Mio breaks away again, although somewhat reluctantly. Her thirst is barely sated, but she doesn't want to drain too much from Iris and weaken her. There was no rush; there was time enough to do this again later. Next time...now, they had plenty of opportunities to make a next time. Tentatively, Mio leans in again, but instead of sucking hungrily she begins to gently lick up the excess trickles of blood, her mouth and tongue travelling down Iris's neck towards her clavicle as she does so.
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There's near-silence, for a time, only the soft sounds of Mio's lapping and the rapid pace of Iris' heated breath disturbing the nighttime peace. The occasional rustle, as flesh too weak to bear the joy of this trembles against the leaf-strewn forest floor.
At last, her eyes look up in wonderment, and she forces words.
"...probably shouldn't stay here," she squeaks, surprised at how thin her voice sounds. "You-- need a place to go back to, right?" You can stay with me, she's offering, unsure whether it's heard or lost in the dim lingering buzz of connectedness between them. So strong a moment ago, and she wanted it to last forever, but she can't tell whether it persists. So much is buzzing.
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