It's just the beast in your head

Sand like blood had been beneath her, this she was sure of and yet that was not where she was any longer. There was a sensation of floating, as if wings of her name sake grew from her shoulder blades and carried her far away from everything she ever knew. Away from the past she did not ask for, Away from the only home she very knew and yet.. did not know any longer.

Those feathered wings set her somewhere new and with their departure they took her memory of everything before, they left her in a strange land with only a whisper. A quiet answer to her only question of who she might be, Dove, was all she got and yet she knew she was more than that. Ivory feathers scattered in her mind, revealing small parts of knowledge. Her abilities but not her past, she personality but not what made her this way.

It was then slanted eyes opened, thick lashes of white lifting to reveal two colors of fire and ice. What would they see first, who might they meet in this strange old world?

Ah, but what her eyes landed on might have struck terror in those that were not her. Instead a throaty chuckle came from her lips as she lifted her skull clad head off of her paws, this was a fitting place for her to land. Fog curled around her prone form, caressing her like a long lost lover found. Tombstones littered the grounds, a place of death, sorrow, and interesting possibilities.

@Alduin

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Alduin has made this gloomy place his own. Scent marking the entirety of the land, but not on his precious castle. No, not on the graves either, the spirits would bang him upside the head for that one. This place would strike fear in the hearts of the weak and cause those strong enough to question their sanity. A perfect fit for the Saints — a perfect fit for him and his ill temper. A perfect place to blend with the shadows and disappear into the fog. The perfect place protected by those long gone, protected by the precarious sea of frozen ice just beyond his borders.

The perfect stronghold for his people.

With these thoughts of reverie in mind, the World Eater saunters down one of the empty hallways. His claws tap tap tapping on the stony floor as he moves to a shattered window to look over his kingdom. He’s eyes roam aimlessly; over the far away sea frozen in time, over the crumbling bur strong walls, over the tombstones that jut out of the unkempt and very much dead grass. I’m between all of that, he spots white. And no, it’s not snow, snow doesn’t move like that. Despite the places being covered in it, he can make out the shape of another. Another in his paradise — his nirvana.

Alduin doesn’t move yet no matter how strong the urge is. The spirts touch him — whisper at him,

Make her one with the castle. Make her one with us.

The brindle giants brows furrow at their words. He has become one with the castle, never to leave now. Cursed more like — as if he wasn’t already cursed before. He would listen to them though. Bring this being into the castle — he’d curse them too.

It’s then he moves. Moving into an unhurried but purposeful walk, he makes his way down to the graveyard. The World Eater’s form would appear from the fog like a demon in the night — all red eyes and dark ominous fur. Setting his ruby gaze on this wolf, he would stop altogether. The land is eerily silent, as if the ghosts and animals alike are waiting for him to speak. So he does.

“You find yourself in an unknown place. Do you not?” It’s an avid assumption, but he’s run into many others just like this.
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Darkness was coming and yet the priestess was not afraid, instead she gave another chuckle as she let the fog continue its caressing over her pale fur like she was apart of it. Spirits clung to this place, this made those jewels of fire and ice glitter with delight. She always had a way with such things and these were no different, they whispered to her many things. She closed her eyes and let their words of sorrow and belonging sooth through her mind.

Ah, then they gave her a nudge. Thick lashes lofted once more as she turned to the one they nudged her to, though she was the color of the thick fog and covering of snow she was easy to spot with her smattering of feathers and bone decoration. He appeared like the proverbial hellhound but this did not frightened her, his dark fur reminded her of someone but that thought was gone as quick as it came. Something about a kitten, what? Ah, no matter. Instead she looked over this man, his fur brindle and dark, his eyes red as blood.

It was then she stood, slowly and non threatening but stood she did. His words rang true and yet strange nonetheless, rhe priestess stretched out her body before she shook her ivory fur to rid the slight dusting of snow that has began to gather. Her tail curled as it always had, was that right? She was the angel to his demon, light to his dark. The irony was not lost on her as she dipped her head to the man that entered like he owned this castle and perhaps he did.

"What you say is true, is this how you arrived here?" Not here as in the location the stood but this place, this land. Her voice smooth and sweet as if it was made of silk and honey, those two toned eyes finally meeting his own.

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She seems to already be looking in his direction when he appears. Maybe she heard him. Maybe the spirits told her. But does she have the way with the spirits he does? Can she hear them? Speak to them? Feel them? This he knows not.

What he does know, is that her stunning beauty is much more apparent now that he’s this close. Not like it wasn’t obvious from the high window in his tower, but now he can see her more finer details. She where’s a skull of a canine on her head. Her pale, silky fur is full and decorated with bright feathers. Her eyes — so beautifully mismatched and entrancing. And lastly, oh is that what he thinks it is? Her tail, it curls over her hip just like his own. So pleasing to the eye he can’t quite get enough of her, especially as she stands.

She is not fearful and this he likes. This woman, a light in the dark, she whispers to him just as the spirits do. Her voice is like honey — like music to his ears. Oh, yes the spirits pick well. Anyone with eyes could tell Alduin is horribly intrigued by her. The way he takes his eyes over her every feature and stares brazenly into those bicolored eyes is a giveaway.

Still, he’s satisfied he’s right once again as she confirms his question. He nods once in return, but the spirits but into his thoughts,

Take her. Take her. Keep her. Keep her. She is like you — gifted. She can hear us. She can hear us.

He doesn’t quite acknowledge them, but his ears flick back as if he’s listening to something behind him before cupping forward again.

“The spirits,” He begins deeply, that rumbling voice of his seems too loud in the stark silence of the graveyard. “they say you can hear them. Is this true?”
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Oh, these spirits are adamant. They danced around her with eager words, starving touches. They had been alone for so long, without ears to hear them, without eyes to see them. She obligated them, letting her two toned gaze dance over their forms just to see how happy it made them bit they were not the only ones here.

They whispered as the demon looked over her, and she had to admit that she did the same with him. His coloring was unique unlike her own, the stripes broken and yet drawn along his body in a great pattern. Again she was struck with a form of familiarity and that word again, this kitten but he was not so little and meek as that type of creature. How strange. Why would this keep appearing, this feeling? It was beyond an attraction, it was a knowing and yet that did not seem quite right.

She gave her mind a mental shake as her eyes trailed down his back to find something that intrigued her more, his tail was like her own. Tightly curled and obviously not fully wolf, just as she was not fully wolf. She let's her gaze remain there for a heartbeat longer than was polite before she touched everywhere else with that fire and ice look, yes, she did like what she saw just as he seemed to as well.

Their eyes met again now that this part of their dance was over, more was to come, she was sure if it but that would wait as they acted like civilized adults. He nodded to her question and it made another piece of the puzzle click, was this how everyone ended up here? Taken from their life, whatever it might be, and placed in this dreamscape?

Ah but that was a question for another day, instead she watched him with open interest as his ears flickered. She moved her head slightly in acknowledgment to the spirits as they spoke to her, did he hear what they said?

His words, loud and deep, came with an intriguing question. He could hear them too, ah now that was too interesting. She felt like she had been the only one in so long and yet all she knew was this place now. She nodded and confirmed this with a audible answer, with her voice as soft and as sweet as before.

"Spirits? Ah yes, I don't know if they are the same as you hear but.. so lonely these beings. So eager to be heard, to touch, and to have us near them. " she spoke as if they were old friends, the demon and the angel, plus their ghostly companions. Yes they all tasted the same, touched by something different.

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He doesn’t mind the way she stares back at him. Eyes roaming over his own muscular form and stopping especially long on his tail. Yes, they have many things in common don’t they. Especially the curious and demanding ghosts constantly whispering in their ears. He doesn’t hate the near constant chatter. They need company and even though Alduin doesn’t often desire such company, he finds them different. There but not there, only chiming in occasionally. Expect for right now. They’re talking his ear right off and judging by the other woman’s expression they’re doing the same to her.

Only she confirms his internal monologue with her words. He lets out an amused huff of breath through his nose, but no smile comes to his face. The only things that light up with what could be humor are his usually expressionless and dead eyes.

“Indeed.” He rumbles out his agreement. “They’ve not had any such company in many, many years.” His gaze shifts from her to the castle. “I couldn’t hear spirits until I discovered this place.” His eyes mischievously catch Dove’s own once more. “I believe I’ve been cursed. They cannot confirm or deny. Or should I say will not confirm or deny.”
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Her eyes trailed to that appendage again. That curled tail tipped with white that was so much like her own. For a moment she let her own tail wiggle slightly, just a small sway from side to side to see if she could catch his attention with its motion. Was he as intrigued as she was, so curious about this new canine that was not whole wolf? Maybe it was her own fancy, maybe she was fooling herself when his eyes roped over her ivory frame that he was merely assessing her. Maybe that look in his eyes was just curiosity about how she came to be?

Another mental shake and the whispers stared up again, repeating his words in a spooky surround sound. Curse, curse, cursed. No, she did not think of it as a curse. She felt that she had always heard them, something within this mind void of memories told her that. She knew how to bind them but only for her own amusement, they were never helpful when it came to gathering information about others. Such a pity but what could she do? They were nice company when she was all alone, a nice reminder that she might not be truly sane.

"Interesting to simply aquire this talent a curse? I would find it a gift, something tells me I have always heard them.. though my memory feels like this thick fog but unmoveable.." she revealed with a dip of her head but her eyes slipped back to his own. What a beautiful shade of ruby his eyes were, a blood diamond that shined with fire and something dangerous. Oh how she liked that, would he be willing to have her as company? What they could do.. ah, not that road just yet. No. Right now they would play their twenty questions, little games then maybe later.. ah, who knows.

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The pale, feathered woman seems to have a thing for his tail. Perhaps she’s still stunned to find it so alike to her own. While he’s watching her face, her own tail swishes behind her. It’s elegant, long and more tightly curled than his own. It catches his attention, allowing his gaze to flick that inch or two over to watch it do so. It’s cute, but the ever intrusive thoughts in his mind butt in — I want to bite it. What if he accidentally bites it off? He couldn’t let that happen, he likes it too much.

Still, she indulges his conversation. Offering her piece by saying she considers it a gift. He cannot agree. He wonders if she feels the same dark energy shrouding this place as much as the lighter, less intrusive energy. There’s something bad here and it’s clutched Alduin in its demonic claws. He’d gotten sick to his stomach the first night he stayed here. That’s when the voices — no, no, the spirits — started whispering to him. Yet, she offers the fact that she thinks she’s always been able to hear them — the voices. Not his voices, but her own.

He hums low in his throat, expression pensive from his darkening thoughts. “My memory was foggy as well, but I’ve caught a glimpse of my past.” His eyes peer to her with fire and determination. “And now my future. Here. Forever in this castle.”

He raises his chin higher then. Eyes expressionless, all except that same fiery determination. ”The castle wants you. I want you. You will stay — become a Saint, cull the weak, sway others to our rule. To make this world a home for only those who deserve it.” A pause ensues, his strong voice seeming too loud for the eerie silence around them. “Will the white witch accept?” Comes his inquiry with a single raised, cream brow and a hint of a smile on dark lips.
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Ah, so he was fascinated but tried not to show it. She watched as those deep ruby eyes flickered to the swaying of her tail, the white witch almost asked what he was thinking. What was going through his head as he watched it move from one side to another? Why was she so curious about this, so fascinated by this man that she knew nothing about?

Maybe it was this place that caught her in its spell. It's claws digging into her pure white fur, piercing her flesh with the intentions of being a gentle caress. Oh, that had to be it. A shiver seemed to trail down her spine but this did not cause fear to spike, no, it caused a pleasure response from her. She liked the things that went bump in the night, the beasts that showed their fangs in the dark.

He too had a fogged memory but he at least had a glimpse of what he once was, all she had was a feeling, an inkling of what she could have been. She nodded elegantly to his speech, this was his future. This was his here and now, this was his home. Then he directed it to her and a sultry smile seemed to curve her lips as she took a step forward. She would become a Saint, that words sparked something in her. A recognition, a soft sound falling from her lips. Oh, this man would take her in and help build her up but what was in this for her.

Will the white witch accept?

Ah, yes she would but she wanted things to be a little sweeter. She moved closer still, moving to brush her angelic coloring against his demonic brindle. "Oh, I will accept but I want to be more than a simple peon.. what might I do to be more to you than another brick in your castle?" It was a reasonable question, but with her voice it became more personal. The silky smooth tones caressing the words, oh what was she to do to be more

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Alduin is a fascinating man, he can’t help it really. Yet, he finds himself fascinated by this ghostly woman before him. Clad in a skull and feathers, he vaguely wonders if she is merely a spirit — one of the many dead he’s seen wandering this land, stuck here for good just as he is now.

And she seems just as interested in his speech as she had been with the other focal points of their odd conversation. Nodding, gaze unwavering, she seems impressed, a smooth smile coming to her beautiful, round face. Satisfied, but searching he assumes. His assumption would be right as she moves towards him, shifting to brush her pale body against the start contrast of his darker one. Such a sickeningly sweet and devilish contrast they have.

She desires more he realizes and the spirits grope at his mind relentlessly,

More, more, more. She wants more! Give it to her. Satisfy the wicked witch and she will become one of us. One of us. One with the castle. One with the castle.

He lifts his chin higher, but looks down at her down the line of his nose, considering her. Until he lowers his head, closer to her and gazes directly into bicolored eyes.

“You will lead beside me and my Harbinger of death. My Priestess. Does this satisfy your wicked tastes?”
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My Priestess.

Oh, yes, this was exactly what she wanted. The power to control, the power to lead along side the man beside her. One might cry out but you don't even know his name. Ah, technicalities. Why let something like that change her plans, why should it mattered when she got the things that she wanted without it? A sultry purring-like sound came from her chest and throat as she pressed ivory fur against his coloring of charcoal, did this answer that it satisfy her wicked tastes?

If not she looked up at him, her lashes lowering only slightly as if she were a lazy cat that got her cream. "Why yes it does, my Lord, you have satisfied some of my wicked tastes." Her voice caressed him, as she rubbed her side against his own only to come up the other side as if she were a feline marking her territory.

A soft whisper came then, something sweet and lulling that seemed to come from the very ground. It was accepting, happy that she had joined with the man before, overjoyed that she would be staying. This caused a rather evil smile to spread over her lips, what he thought caused it was his guess but she was pleased with this arrangement

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He extends his olive branch and she takes it right away. Perfect. She’s clearly happy, purring against him like a privileged house cat. It satisfies him well enough to darken his eyes with what could be a pinch of primal lust as she slithers alongside his body and deposits herself on his opposite side.

Why yes it does, my Lord, you have satisfied some of my wicked tastes.

She’s all too satisfied with herself as she peers up to him promiscuously. Her intriguing gaze makes it hard not to stare back as he hums out his approval low in his throat. A smile overcomes her face and the slightest quirk of his lips would show in return. Dipping his head to settle his muzzle next to her ear he allows his lust to get the better of him.

“Good.”He breathes. “Perhaps the e could satisfy your other wicked tastes sometime soon then.” It’s said slow and confident, but low, almost hushed as that deep voice slinks seductively into her auds.

With the intention of teasing her and making her come back for more he huffs out a breath through his nose as he softly and silently pushes past her. Offering a look behind his shoulder as he extends another olive branch to his Priestess.

“For now, allow me to show you around this forsaken land.”

With that, he would offer his own promiscuous look before sauntering off, expecting her to follow. And follow she does. They trail off into the fog, a silent agreement settled, and they don’t even know one another’s names.
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