(no subject)
Thanks for the advice on the compact flash card, guys! ^_^ I at least have some hope now that not all hope is lost. ^_^;; I think I'm going to take it to work tomorrow and test it out on our picture maker and see if it works there. (I'd check it in the camera, but the batteries in the camera have corroded and corroded the battery compartment shut. So until I spend a bajillion hours some time carefully chiseling through battery gunk and cleaning out the battery compartment, the camera does not work.)
And if it doesn't work tomorrow, maybe I'll pull out the hairdryer and give it a good going over and leave it for another week or two and try again. ^_^
*glomps you guys*
And because I'm restless...a WIP! Because I've been in the mood to post those lately.
Irdu practically bit through his lip as the man behind him brought his arm up and wrenched it hard. A nice sharp wet crack preceded the pain, and Irdu howled.
“We heard the stories, beastie!” Another wrench and his entire arm felt as if it were on fire. “You lure men and then suck the life out of them.”
“I’ve never sucked the life out of anyone,” Irdu snarled back, but it was less than convincing since the end came out a squeak as nasty man twisted his arm once more. Nasty man’s partner seemed to be feeling left out, though, so Irdu got a kick to the stomach to go along with it.
“Jimmy’s dead ‘cause of you.” Fingers dug into his wrist, and a fist clipped him upside the head. “Couldn’t just take his money like a normal whore, could you. Had to suck on his flesh, didn’t you!”
“Jimmy?” Who the hell was Jimmy? Irdu didn’t have long to think about it though as nasty man’s partner delivered a series of sharp kicks to his ribcage.
“You killed my brother!” Another sharp kick and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Each breath was painful. “First you sucked out his soul, and then you sucked the flesh from his bones. There was barely enough of him to bury, you monster.”
“Hmm, that’s a Dreqi demon, not an incubus.”
Irdu tried to look up, but the hand nasty man had fisted in his hair made it an impossible task, not that it would matter, everything was blurry anyway.
“Lies. He was the last to see my brother alive. He did it!” Another kick. Irdu coughed and he could taste the blood dribbling out of his mouth.
“Why are humans so stupid?” Oh, now he sounded pretty. And yummy. Too bad Irdu was in no condition to proposition him. The only men who would be into him now were those into pain, and their souls were just icky tasting.
“Maybe not stupid, more like misguided. They dabble with things which they don’t understand.” A deeper voice. The kind that if you laid against his chest, it would vibrate through your entire body. “We’d really appreciate it if you released the pretty incubus. He has no idea why you’re beating him to a pulp.”
“He’s a killer!” Another fist to the head, and Irdu let his eyes slide shut. He was tired, and in pain, and maybe if he pretended to be asleep, the humans would leave and the pretty voices would let him feast just a little bit…
He was warm. Warm was nice. Alleys just weren’t all that warm, and he just wasn’t the kind of beautiful that it took to attract people instantly to him and convince them to pamper him. All some incubi had to do was open the door and people tripped over themselves to let them feast.
Irdu was simply not that kind of pretty.
On cold winter nights, he usually ended up begging.
The prostitutes hated him because he never charged. Plus, prostitutes that worked for bits of soul tended to give the profession a bad name. Well, worse than what it already was, anyway.
The demons hated him because he never went all the way to devour the souls he fed on. Why kill a meal that might feed him for months? Besides, the prettiest souls didn’t mind sharing a little. It would be cruel to kill something that kind.
There were uglier souls out there, too. But eating them was too gruesome to see it through to the end. And they weren’t exactly nice about letting him feast either.
But it was nice here. Silk sheets. A real pillow. Someone must have taken a liking to him, although he couldn’t figure out why. As far as incubi went, he was rather plain. He didn’t have the sunlit waves of blond hair or the glossy raven black locks.
His hair was just a plain brown. Maybe if the sun hit it just right, he could produce a red highlight or two, but mostly it was a mousy and utterly forgettable brown. Instead of the pretty violet eyes most of his brethren possessed, he’d been gifted with an ordinary blue.
Not pale or silver, nor a brilliant azure. Just run of the mill blue.
“He’s waking.” Ooh, he’d been right, a deep rumbly voice that vibrated through a person from head to toe when they were close enough.
For some reason, prying his eyes open took tremendous effort.
“C’mon precious.” A lighter, more melodic voice coaxed, and Irdu managed to crack an eyelid open long enough to get a glimpse of bright, white gold flaring in front of him.
“Ow,” he croaked the word, and as he did so he noticed that the rest of his body ached. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe and it hurt to think. He wasn’t opening his eyes again either until he prepared himself.
Bright shiny white-gold souls were not common.
And they’d never been interested in a bottom feeder like him before.
Stealing a shallow breath, he damped down his powers and tried again to look.
The room was richly adorned with thick, heavy drapes that had glinting gold tassels which were drawn in front of huge bay windows. The four poster bed he was lying on looked antique, and was made of an ebony wood that had intricate, whimsical carvings of lizards that stretched from the foot all the way up to the gold brocaded canopy.
There was a fire roaring steadily in front of him, and it backlit the man sitting beside him, holding his hand.
Even without the firelight glow, he was bright and shiny. His aura leaked past the controls Irdu had set in place, and made his bronzed skin luminescent. Irdu wanted to reach up and touch it, to feel the heat of it.
The only delicate thing about the man’s face was his thin white eyebrows and they arched slightly in concern as Irdu stared at him. Pure white hair hung over his shoulder in a thick braid, standing out starkly against the black silk robes he was wearing.
“Hi,” he croaked. Obviously, he’d never drawn the humans to him with his witty conversational skills either. It truly was amazing that he hadn’t starved to death long before now.
“Hi yourself,” the beautiful man smiled at him, “how are you feeling?”
He jumped at the hand that moved to his forehead underneath his bangs. The movement sent spikes of pain through his chest, but really, how important was being able to breathe anyway? “He still has a fever,” the deep voice rumbled against his back, and Irdu could feel his face coloring.
Really. A blushing incubus. Could he be any more pathetic?
“What’s your name, precious?” The beautiful man’s long and lean fingers met and then intertwined with Deep Voice’s against his forehead. Sparks flashed from their auras, momentarily blinding him.
“Irdu.” He sounded like a dying cat. Attractive, that.
A small half smile graced the beautiful man’s features at the sound though, so maybe it wasn’t all bad?
“Pretty,” Deep Voice purred against his back.
“Yes, he is,” he squeaked before he thought better.
“That too, precious,” Deep Voice murmured in his ear. “Iohe is pretty.”
“Balaur,” Iohe chided, a secret smile on his face as Irdu watched him dumbfounded. He was in way over his head. Sure, they were bright and shiny, and usually that meant good, but that wasn’t always the case. Some demons had bright auras. Dreqi demons, for instance, were particularly bright. Right up until the point where they picked your bones clean. “Are you hungry, precious?”
If they were Dreqi demons, this would be the point where flesh left bone. Although, given how much it hurt to breathe and the way that his arm felt as if it were on fire, maybe death wouldn’t be that bad of an experience?
“Um,” he croaked.
Smooth hands brushed his cheeks, and Irdu let his eyes slide shut. Ooh, they were warm. One finger traced the edge of his lower lip, and Irdu couldn’t stop himself from parting his lips and darting his tongue out to take a lick.
Shuddering, he savored the small tendril of aura. Oh, he tasted good. Cinnamon and nutmeg. A smooth and soothing burn as it went down.
If he was a Dreqi, Irdu would still die happy. “Precious,” Iohe whispered against his lips before surging forward and moving his mouth against Irdu’s. His tongue slid in, hot and insistent against Irdu’s.
So warm. The aura overwhelmed, pulsing heat through his veins and easing the pain in his ribs. More. Oh, how he wanted more. It was greedy, and if he were feeling better, he’d have stopped before even partaking.
An aura like that was downright addictive. One taste of that and it was virtually impossible to go back to the human filth that frequented his alley. This kind of kissing could cure anything.
He tried to lean into the kiss, to drink in more and simply bask in the sunny bright aura. Wincing, he was forced to pull back and a whimper worked its way up his throat as the movement sent sharp needles through his chest.
Well, maybe the kiss wouldn’t cure everything.
“Small sips, precious. You don’t want to make yourself sick,” Balaur vibrated against his back.
“Sleep,” Iohe whispered against his forehead.
When Irdu woke again, he was alone in the bed. Figured. He was pretty sure that he’d dreamed Iohe and Balaur. What with the broken ribs, broken collar bone, broken wrist. Hallucinations were to be expected. In fact, he was so good at them that he was still having them.
Any moment now he was going to wake up back in his cold corner in his cold alley ready for dusk and trying to tempt the pretty souls to give him a small snack.
“Awake, are you, precious?”
Or the hallucination could continue. He blinked, trying to dim the eye blinding white-gold of the new aura.
As if his imagination hadn’t already produced the wonderfully gorgeous Iohe, he had to tease himself with what must be Balaur.
He had to be taller than Irdu by at least a foot. Broad shouldered and muscled, Balaur’s hair was a fiery red that hung just past his ears. Pointy ears. Definitely not human.
Well, that explained the ultra bright aura?
Balaur’s robes were a pristine white, and Idru cringed as Balaur sat on the edge of the bed beside him, gently pulling him up against a warm thigh. Did Balaur somehow miss the fact that he was a hooker who got paid in soul? Dirty didn’t even begin to cover what he was.
Maybe he was dead and in the incubi happy ever after underworld? Because beautiful, pure sunny bright souls didn’t pay attention to the likes of him. Hell, his own family didn’t pay attention to the likes of him.
Homely Incubi were not exactly a blessing to any illustrious and prestigious lineage. If his father could have managed it, he’d have had Irdu’s name erased from the family tree. As it was, they’d chased him out of town and to the streets.
“Do you hurt?” Balaur’s light green eyes looked down at him in concern. Which lead to Irdu staring, slack jawed and in what he was sure was an attractive way.
If one was into drooling idiots.
“I’m fine,” he whispered. It didn’t hurt. Really. As long as he didn’t breathe, move or speak it was just like being perfectly healthy.
“Are you hungry?”
Irdu just looked at him. Was it really okay to say yes?
He was an incubus. He was pretty much always hungry. Was this a trick question? A little bait and switch? Because that, Irdu could understand. Humans didn’t have a problem with that. Demons generally found it pretty damn funny.
“I promise it won’t hurt.” Balaur laughed softly.
Mr. Pretty, Bright and Shiny soul was just going to let him take a couple bites?
This was a really great hallucination.
Irdu nodded slowly, watching the firelight reflect off of Balaur’s wavy hair as he bent over, strong fingers sliding lightly across Irdu’s jaw and tangling gently in his hair as they cupped the back of his head.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss.
Like Iohe’s, it consumed, drowning Irdu as it sparked through him. Instead of a smooth, slow burn, this was an electric surge that crackled as Irdu slid his tongue along Balaur’s.
He tasted just as good. Mint and champagne that tingled as it went down. Whimpering, Irdu lifted his hand up, twisting a lock of red hair between his forefinger and thumb. Ignoring the dull throb in his chest as he tried to move closer, he shivered as Balaur let him take tiny bites.
“Tasty, isn’t he, precious?”
And if it doesn't work tomorrow, maybe I'll pull out the hairdryer and give it a good going over and leave it for another week or two and try again. ^_^
*glomps you guys*
And because I'm restless...a WIP! Because I've been in the mood to post those lately.
Irdu practically bit through his lip as the man behind him brought his arm up and wrenched it hard. A nice sharp wet crack preceded the pain, and Irdu howled.
“We heard the stories, beastie!” Another wrench and his entire arm felt as if it were on fire. “You lure men and then suck the life out of them.”
“I’ve never sucked the life out of anyone,” Irdu snarled back, but it was less than convincing since the end came out a squeak as nasty man twisted his arm once more. Nasty man’s partner seemed to be feeling left out, though, so Irdu got a kick to the stomach to go along with it.
“Jimmy’s dead ‘cause of you.” Fingers dug into his wrist, and a fist clipped him upside the head. “Couldn’t just take his money like a normal whore, could you. Had to suck on his flesh, didn’t you!”
“Jimmy?” Who the hell was Jimmy? Irdu didn’t have long to think about it though as nasty man’s partner delivered a series of sharp kicks to his ribcage.
“You killed my brother!” Another sharp kick and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Each breath was painful. “First you sucked out his soul, and then you sucked the flesh from his bones. There was barely enough of him to bury, you monster.”
“Hmm, that’s a Dreqi demon, not an incubus.”
Irdu tried to look up, but the hand nasty man had fisted in his hair made it an impossible task, not that it would matter, everything was blurry anyway.
“Lies. He was the last to see my brother alive. He did it!” Another kick. Irdu coughed and he could taste the blood dribbling out of his mouth.
“Why are humans so stupid?” Oh, now he sounded pretty. And yummy. Too bad Irdu was in no condition to proposition him. The only men who would be into him now were those into pain, and their souls were just icky tasting.
“Maybe not stupid, more like misguided. They dabble with things which they don’t understand.” A deeper voice. The kind that if you laid against his chest, it would vibrate through your entire body. “We’d really appreciate it if you released the pretty incubus. He has no idea why you’re beating him to a pulp.”
“He’s a killer!” Another fist to the head, and Irdu let his eyes slide shut. He was tired, and in pain, and maybe if he pretended to be asleep, the humans would leave and the pretty voices would let him feast just a little bit…
He was warm. Warm was nice. Alleys just weren’t all that warm, and he just wasn’t the kind of beautiful that it took to attract people instantly to him and convince them to pamper him. All some incubi had to do was open the door and people tripped over themselves to let them feast.
Irdu was simply not that kind of pretty.
On cold winter nights, he usually ended up begging.
The prostitutes hated him because he never charged. Plus, prostitutes that worked for bits of soul tended to give the profession a bad name. Well, worse than what it already was, anyway.
The demons hated him because he never went all the way to devour the souls he fed on. Why kill a meal that might feed him for months? Besides, the prettiest souls didn’t mind sharing a little. It would be cruel to kill something that kind.
There were uglier souls out there, too. But eating them was too gruesome to see it through to the end. And they weren’t exactly nice about letting him feast either.
But it was nice here. Silk sheets. A real pillow. Someone must have taken a liking to him, although he couldn’t figure out why. As far as incubi went, he was rather plain. He didn’t have the sunlit waves of blond hair or the glossy raven black locks.
His hair was just a plain brown. Maybe if the sun hit it just right, he could produce a red highlight or two, but mostly it was a mousy and utterly forgettable brown. Instead of the pretty violet eyes most of his brethren possessed, he’d been gifted with an ordinary blue.
Not pale or silver, nor a brilliant azure. Just run of the mill blue.
“He’s waking.” Ooh, he’d been right, a deep rumbly voice that vibrated through a person from head to toe when they were close enough.
For some reason, prying his eyes open took tremendous effort.
“C’mon precious.” A lighter, more melodic voice coaxed, and Irdu managed to crack an eyelid open long enough to get a glimpse of bright, white gold flaring in front of him.
“Ow,” he croaked the word, and as he did so he noticed that the rest of his body ached. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe and it hurt to think. He wasn’t opening his eyes again either until he prepared himself.
Bright shiny white-gold souls were not common.
And they’d never been interested in a bottom feeder like him before.
Stealing a shallow breath, he damped down his powers and tried again to look.
The room was richly adorned with thick, heavy drapes that had glinting gold tassels which were drawn in front of huge bay windows. The four poster bed he was lying on looked antique, and was made of an ebony wood that had intricate, whimsical carvings of lizards that stretched from the foot all the way up to the gold brocaded canopy.
There was a fire roaring steadily in front of him, and it backlit the man sitting beside him, holding his hand.
Even without the firelight glow, he was bright and shiny. His aura leaked past the controls Irdu had set in place, and made his bronzed skin luminescent. Irdu wanted to reach up and touch it, to feel the heat of it.
The only delicate thing about the man’s face was his thin white eyebrows and they arched slightly in concern as Irdu stared at him. Pure white hair hung over his shoulder in a thick braid, standing out starkly against the black silk robes he was wearing.
“Hi,” he croaked. Obviously, he’d never drawn the humans to him with his witty conversational skills either. It truly was amazing that he hadn’t starved to death long before now.
“Hi yourself,” the beautiful man smiled at him, “how are you feeling?”
He jumped at the hand that moved to his forehead underneath his bangs. The movement sent spikes of pain through his chest, but really, how important was being able to breathe anyway? “He still has a fever,” the deep voice rumbled against his back, and Irdu could feel his face coloring.
Really. A blushing incubus. Could he be any more pathetic?
“What’s your name, precious?” The beautiful man’s long and lean fingers met and then intertwined with Deep Voice’s against his forehead. Sparks flashed from their auras, momentarily blinding him.
“Irdu.” He sounded like a dying cat. Attractive, that.
A small half smile graced the beautiful man’s features at the sound though, so maybe it wasn’t all bad?
“Pretty,” Deep Voice purred against his back.
“Yes, he is,” he squeaked before he thought better.
“That too, precious,” Deep Voice murmured in his ear. “Iohe is pretty.”
“Balaur,” Iohe chided, a secret smile on his face as Irdu watched him dumbfounded. He was in way over his head. Sure, they were bright and shiny, and usually that meant good, but that wasn’t always the case. Some demons had bright auras. Dreqi demons, for instance, were particularly bright. Right up until the point where they picked your bones clean. “Are you hungry, precious?”
If they were Dreqi demons, this would be the point where flesh left bone. Although, given how much it hurt to breathe and the way that his arm felt as if it were on fire, maybe death wouldn’t be that bad of an experience?
“Um,” he croaked.
Smooth hands brushed his cheeks, and Irdu let his eyes slide shut. Ooh, they were warm. One finger traced the edge of his lower lip, and Irdu couldn’t stop himself from parting his lips and darting his tongue out to take a lick.
Shuddering, he savored the small tendril of aura. Oh, he tasted good. Cinnamon and nutmeg. A smooth and soothing burn as it went down.
If he was a Dreqi, Irdu would still die happy. “Precious,” Iohe whispered against his lips before surging forward and moving his mouth against Irdu’s. His tongue slid in, hot and insistent against Irdu’s.
So warm. The aura overwhelmed, pulsing heat through his veins and easing the pain in his ribs. More. Oh, how he wanted more. It was greedy, and if he were feeling better, he’d have stopped before even partaking.
An aura like that was downright addictive. One taste of that and it was virtually impossible to go back to the human filth that frequented his alley. This kind of kissing could cure anything.
He tried to lean into the kiss, to drink in more and simply bask in the sunny bright aura. Wincing, he was forced to pull back and a whimper worked its way up his throat as the movement sent sharp needles through his chest.
Well, maybe the kiss wouldn’t cure everything.
“Small sips, precious. You don’t want to make yourself sick,” Balaur vibrated against his back.
“Sleep,” Iohe whispered against his forehead.
When Irdu woke again, he was alone in the bed. Figured. He was pretty sure that he’d dreamed Iohe and Balaur. What with the broken ribs, broken collar bone, broken wrist. Hallucinations were to be expected. In fact, he was so good at them that he was still having them.
Any moment now he was going to wake up back in his cold corner in his cold alley ready for dusk and trying to tempt the pretty souls to give him a small snack.
“Awake, are you, precious?”
Or the hallucination could continue. He blinked, trying to dim the eye blinding white-gold of the new aura.
As if his imagination hadn’t already produced the wonderfully gorgeous Iohe, he had to tease himself with what must be Balaur.
He had to be taller than Irdu by at least a foot. Broad shouldered and muscled, Balaur’s hair was a fiery red that hung just past his ears. Pointy ears. Definitely not human.
Well, that explained the ultra bright aura?
Balaur’s robes were a pristine white, and Idru cringed as Balaur sat on the edge of the bed beside him, gently pulling him up against a warm thigh. Did Balaur somehow miss the fact that he was a hooker who got paid in soul? Dirty didn’t even begin to cover what he was.
Maybe he was dead and in the incubi happy ever after underworld? Because beautiful, pure sunny bright souls didn’t pay attention to the likes of him. Hell, his own family didn’t pay attention to the likes of him.
Homely Incubi were not exactly a blessing to any illustrious and prestigious lineage. If his father could have managed it, he’d have had Irdu’s name erased from the family tree. As it was, they’d chased him out of town and to the streets.
“Do you hurt?” Balaur’s light green eyes looked down at him in concern. Which lead to Irdu staring, slack jawed and in what he was sure was an attractive way.
If one was into drooling idiots.
“I’m fine,” he whispered. It didn’t hurt. Really. As long as he didn’t breathe, move or speak it was just like being perfectly healthy.
“Are you hungry?”
Irdu just looked at him. Was it really okay to say yes?
He was an incubus. He was pretty much always hungry. Was this a trick question? A little bait and switch? Because that, Irdu could understand. Humans didn’t have a problem with that. Demons generally found it pretty damn funny.
“I promise it won’t hurt.” Balaur laughed softly.
Mr. Pretty, Bright and Shiny soul was just going to let him take a couple bites?
This was a really great hallucination.
Irdu nodded slowly, watching the firelight reflect off of Balaur’s wavy hair as he bent over, strong fingers sliding lightly across Irdu’s jaw and tangling gently in his hair as they cupped the back of his head.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss.
Like Iohe’s, it consumed, drowning Irdu as it sparked through him. Instead of a smooth, slow burn, this was an electric surge that crackled as Irdu slid his tongue along Balaur’s.
He tasted just as good. Mint and champagne that tingled as it went down. Whimpering, Irdu lifted his hand up, twisting a lock of red hair between his forefinger and thumb. Ignoring the dull throb in his chest as he tried to move closer, he shivered as Balaur let him take tiny bites.
“Tasty, isn’t he, precious?”