Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
The room was in silence and only faint sound of small clock tickling by the bookshelf was heard. There Leon was, lying on the bed like a broken doll with Dante, who is sleeping ever so peacefully. The boy tilted his head, swiftly shifted his hand over the translucent image of the boy that looked exactly like him, but not him at all. Since when Dante existed in him, his mind and his life? What will his life be, if he did not exist, he wondered. The door creaked open as quietly as possible, allowing bright light from outside intruded the dark yet calm scenery inside the room. Leon sat up quickly and carefully. He thought by doing so, Dante will not wake up even though he realized he will not, if that was what he wanted in his mind. He did not exist physically and he was not real.
He's a creation from Leon's longing to be strong and dependent sub-conscious mind. His eyes glanced over a familiar face of a woman. Softly, he uttered the goddess's name, who had saved him from his misfortune. "Haine."
Haine looked at him and at his hand that was grasping something she could not see. The woman's eyes softened. "Sleeping?" She asked.
Leon was hesitant to answer at first but slowly he nodded. Haine was the other family members aside from Dante he has now. He considered her as his mother, and an elder sister, but he was not sure if she thought the same. She treated him cold but soft, rough but with passion; almost as if she was trying to protect him silently without damaging both of them. Fate somewhat turned against him once again when he was rescued by Haine and her pack. It was a little bit late, as he was already marked with different ownership. He was no longer under Rapture he was yearning to be part of.
He was part of the sinners. Synister.
"Leon, head to the store for awhile. Someone's coming over, so you..." Haine left the sentence hanging, not knowing how she should end it. Leon looked up at her and smiled calmly. Rapture's matter, again? She was trying too hard not to get him involved these days. He smiled more and looked at her. His eyes glittered innocently in the shade of night and as he got off from the bed, he spoke, "I'll go and buy some tidbits for us then. Call me when it's over."
With that, he passed by the female, headed down the stairs to the main compartment in Nightshade and left the building.
- - - x x x - - -
Crescent Moon. He experienced both horror and happy times in the district. Times when he was saved and brought into Nightshade and times when he was tricked to become a prostitute and...
And?
He held his head as he left a sudden thrust of pain. "Ah..." He groaned, twitching his eyes and ears at the throbs. What happened after that, he can't remember. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Past is past. There was no use remembering what had happened. Although he may not remembered, he knew Dante does. Every time he tried to ask him what happened, the other self of his would not not answer him. He did not budge an inch at his pleads for the memory, feeling somewhat remorse that due to what happened at that night, he was marked. His hand spontaneously reached up over his shoulder bone where the series of numbers has been tattooed. It ached.
It was full moon. The path seemed clearer in the dark as the white ray showed the way in the district. Lampposts enhanced the sight, not that he needed help with it. Leon was so used to being locked in a dark room that he could see through the darkness. His eyes wandered from one alley to another as he passed by them. His child-like continued to remain on his face, even though there was no one there to smile at. That's Leon for you. Dante appeared suddenly, looking at one of the dark alleys, with eyes of curiosity. Leon reached by his side and looked through the alley, blinking.
"What's wrong, Dant-" Before he could finish his words, Dante lunged in. He appeared to have shifted his posture as if he was walling Leon from whatever inside the alley.
"Nothing. Let's move." he urged.
Leon narrowed his wide green eyes and tried to see what or who was in the alley, only to notice there was someone lying on the tar. He moved aisde and ran towards the dark and narrow street, kneeling down on the body and started shouting.
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
moonlight crept into the alley as the full moon rose into the sky, and the pale light glinted off the dagger, drawing attention to the weapon. thin lips curved into a demented grin as the man twirled the weapon, displaying a chilling familiarity with the item. his prey struggled to contain their whimpers of fear, for the duo never expected to gain the attention of such a dangerous individual. blood lust rolled off his prone figure while the silence seemed to gain more and more weight, wrapping around them and eliciting a deep rooted sense of fear from the thugs. they were not on synister’s list, but they managed to target the wrong individual. crescent moon—after all—was a district for pleasure and for crime; however, few petty thieves realized the true hierarchy of the underworld, which often resulted in death. laughter bubbled to the surface, forcing the man’s lips apart as he pushed his body away from the brick wall. his free hand rose to brush against the uneven surface lovingly while emerald tinted eyes followed the movement of his captives, who scooted further and further into the alley in response to his movements. the laughter bounced off the buildings and surrounded the pair, driving them to their demise.
panicked expressions colored their rapidly paling miens as their backs connected with a dead end, the brick pressing against their skin and clothes. dimitri could barely contain his glee as he ambled closer, fingers gliding over the rough texture of the wall. his newfound toys decided to steal his wallet, and when he discovered their heist, they bolted, laughing as the distance between them increased. however, the pastel haired sociopath did not pursue them immediately. oh, no. he stationed guards throughout crescent moon and provided them with a description of his attackers, and if anyone spotted the pair, they reported their observations to him. the game continued for a month—by the end of which, the pair had forgotten about their confrontation with sin. unlike the duo, he never forgot and dreamed of his revenge for days on end. the crazed laughter continued to resound through the small space though each rendition gained volume and strength, yet when he stood mere inches away from his targets, the sound ceased, dying away like the gentle breeze from the afternoon. his expression shifted minutely as his hand dropped to his side. strands of jade green hair slipped into his eyes as he tipped his head to the side, listening for possible interruptions and then lifting his dagger toward the closest crook.
silver flashed as the tip of the weapon pressed against the terrified man’s cheek, force amplifying as dimitri subtly increased the pressure. a whimper tore through the man’s defenses and caused the dagger to fall away as a hum sounded from the psychotic man. his hands rose to his chest, the tip of his knife pressing against his palm as he debated his options. saa… you can produce quite pretty sounds, he murmured as blood appeared on his palm, evoked from a slight cut that traced the width of his palm. with a shrug, he lifted the bloody appendage and pressed it against one of the men’s cheek, watching in fascination as the blood smeared across the flushed surface. how shall i dispose of you? you can’t be left alive. no, we can’t have that. dark green hued eyes momentarily drifted away from his prey, watching the visible strip of the night sky and contemplating possible deaths. he knew they would die; they knew they would die. it was only a matter of time. only god could save them from the sadistic monster, yet god would never grace them with his protection. they had been tossed out of society and left to rot in an alley, forcing them to succumb to thievery and begging as a means of survival.
meanwhile, a cloud drifted over the moon, casting the alley in shadows and granting dimitri the perfect opportunity. his dagger left his hand, embedding itself in the chest of a terrified thug. a chocked scream sounded from the dying man as his body descended toward the ground, utilizing the dead end as a support, and as the moonlight descended upon them once again, it illuminated the nearly lifeless man, whose partner unleashed a shocked and heartbroken screech. the sound elicited gleeful cackling from the predator as the surviving thud dropped down to his partner’s side, hands reaching out to press against the other’s chest. the stranger tried avoiding the dagger, applying force around the weapon and vainly attempting to blink away his tears; however, in an unexpected motion, the night club owner wrapped a hand around his knife, pulling the object out of his victim’s chest and then idly cleaning the item on his jeans. how beautiful, he breathed. do you want to join him? i think hell’s ready to admit a few more patrons. wide amber eyes turned to stare at him—anger and fear mingling in the depths. oh, yes, that look. you’re learning. the thug’s lips curved into a frown as he rose to his feet, body shaking in suppressed rage, while his fingers wrapped around a metal pipe, which he unconsciously grabbed upon reclaiming an upright position.
dimitri blinked in surprise, momentarily astounded by the man’s nerve. his shock, however, washed away as he lifted his hands and applauded the other’s guts. ma… you won’t survive though the devil will praise you, but you’re trapped here. there’s no escape and no guarantee of survival. an enraged, mournful sound slipped from the thug as he rushed toward his killer, brandishing his weapon and preparing himself for a brutal fight. the expected fight suffered an anticlimactic end. the greenette sidestepped the blind rush and then plunged his knife into the man’s unprotected back, but instead of granting the man a peaceful death, he retrieved his danger and began skewering the man over and over again, aiming for nonlethal points and watching as the thug’s life blood stained the concrete and his hands. mindless laughter bubbled to the surface until he noticed movement near the entrance of the alley. with practiced ease, he slipped into the shadows of the alley, watching the youth approach his dying victim and then recognizing the figure due to a glimpse of startling olivine colored eyes. with soundless footsteps, he stalked toward the teen, unsheathing a previously hidden weapon and then tapping the boy’s shoulder with the unsoiled blade. good evening, ljubímets, he began, tipping his head forward in greeting. fancy a midnight stroll? after voicing his question, the laughter burst forth and echoed in his own ears as he tapped the dagger against the youth’s shoulder once and then twice, an unspoken threat and greeting.
"hey old man, what the fuck do you think you are doing?"
TAGS: @zeit00 || NOTES: WOOO DANTE'S SHOWED UP
Cold. It was cold, and absolutely wrong. The body, the air and the atmosphere; they were all too cold for Leon to sustain. He hated cold so much he was fine to have himself sunk in hot boiled bathtub. His hand was shaking over the heat that was leaving the male's body. His eyes wanted to see what was happening but he could not. No, it was his fear that disallowed his sight to be as sharp and acute as normal in the dark. He shouted, "Sir, please keep up with me! Are you all right?! You are cold!" He shook his shoulder lightly but the man was only to shift along with the small force applied. He did not make any more move until a faint voice began to whimper.
"Help... me..."
Help? Help?!
What should he do?!
Leon was panicking. His hands were shaking and before he realized, the palm that was resting on the man's torso was damp and sticky. Leon's breathing was heavy and shallow, as if someone had wrapped fingers around his neck and strangle him. Slowly but unsure whether he wanted to do this or not, he raised his hand up passing the line where light was ready to shine him on the other side. His eyes thinned and he screamed in shock.
"Blood! IT'S BLOOD! MISTER! YOU ARE BLEEDING!"
He was going hysterical about this, no doubt. The sight of crimson red on his palm made his head and chest throbbed in pain. Some was wrong about this. Something... from his past has slowly snickered in. What was it? What was it that he had forgotten?! Leon shook his head and shut his eyes tightly.
Dante, I'm scared! I'm scared!
While he was screaming in fear in his mind, he felt a presence nearby. What it Dante? In relief, he was about to turn for the person or the image of his inner personality; his brave and cool-headed self but then something tapped on his shoulder. Cold zapped through his spinal cord down, making his body jolted unwillingly. What...
good evening, ljubímets, fancy a midnight stroll?
Leon paused in silence as he sorted out his emotions. His eyebrows were screwed as his eyes glared behind. Dante appeared beside Leon, holding him with a hiss. The two eyed the man that showed up, believed in their hutches that this man was no savior. Leon had a frown on his face as his eyes noticed the sight of the shining and sharp object in his hand. A knife? He listened to his displeasing cackling sound and bluntly commented, "Why are you laughing at one's pain?! Help this man, instead!"
What a lunatic. He thought of ignoring him but slowly the pain throbbed more than he could handle. "Ah!" He shouted, holding his head with the damped with blood palm. His eyes averted to Dante, who had a very scary and serious face since the man showed up. He had never seen the 'older brother' looked so pissed but...
"Leon, sleep. I'm taking your place." He demanded, swiftly ran his hand passed through Leon's neck, as if he was scooping him out of the vessel body before him. The copper red hair flowed to the side as the body staggered. Slowly, the eyes revealed green color like olive. He hold the injured man with one hand and placed his another hand on the torso. It was holed, assumed that the injury was not meant for an instant death, but simply to let the man died dry without blood. He huffed and glared at the grenette.
"Hey old man," He started speaking. His eyes have lingering flame of rage. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
blood continued to ooze from the man’s body, desecrating the alley and filling the air with the scent of death. jade green hued eyes momentarily flickered away from dantalion to meet the dying man’s gaze, and within those pained eyes, he spotted a glimmer of hatred and a will to survive. pale lips twisted into a delighted grin as understanding dawned upon the injured thug. his survival depended upon dimitri’s mood; however, the green haired sociopath did not believe in mercy and rarely allowed his victims to live. oh, in his early years, he experienced a moment or two of compassion, driven by a desire to emulate human emotions and attitudes. his inhumane methods left many people questioning his sanity and ability to understand positive emotions such as compassion and gratitude, which those emotions continued to elude him. resignation flashed across the dying man’s mien, which sent a trill of delight through the psychotic male. his grip on the dagger tightened while dantalion’s voice dragged his attention back to the auburn haired male. the boy, however, lacked the aura that originally captivated the leader of synister; however, even the current display intrigued the man as his gaze slid to the hidden tattoo, which marked the brunette as his property and a member of synister.
in an instant, the aura surrounding the youth changed, and with his head cocked to the side, dimitri shifted his weapon away from the teen, tapping his cheek with the object and filing away the mysterious occurrence for later perusal. to him, a different personality seemed to inhabit the youth’s body, causing the slightest change in eye color and leaving the pastel haired night club owner entertained. he never expected to find a toy of such high quality. yes, he had been amused by the boy that night; however, he never extensively researched his chosen target. if the teen failed to meet expectations, he would slaughter the youth, drag a knife across his throat and watch him bleed to death. his grin gained a maniacal edge as he ceased the movement of his weapon, keeping the sharp blade pressed against his cheek and watching dantalion with half-lidded eyes. rage settled over the auburn haired youth’s visage and elicited soft chuckles from the greenette. the boy was simply delightful. do you remember me, ljubímets? the sociopath stated as he stepped closer to the teen, shifting his weapon and imbedding it in the dying man’s heart. the ragged breathing of the thug had begun to irritate him, which resulted in his unexpected and sudden death. to be frank, the russian murderer expected the man to die due to his plans, having decided to end the lives of the duo that robbed him before departing from blasphemy.
without the detestable noise, dimitri could focus his attention on his toy. in a lazy, practiced motion, he twisted his wrist, revealing another dagger to the moonlight. the faint light reflected off the metallic surface and danced upon the bloodstained alley, revealing the other body and eliciting a pleased smirk from the vice of synister. with a mindless shrug of his shoulders, he directed his attention to dantalion, stepping closer once again. the minimal distance between them hinted toward his intention to dominant the younger male. he wanted to see the defiance leave the olive green tinted eyes, and he was not afraid to break the teen. what am i doing? he parroted while tapping his weapon against the brunette’s temple. nothing of importance: taking a walk, fulfilling a revenge scheme, murdering pointless thugs. with each word, his grin grew wider and wider. but… i’m afraid my actions don’t concern you… unless—of course… you want to answer similar questions. i don’t mind playing that game with you, childe. his dagger moved from dantalion’s temple, tracing the curve of his cheek and then stopping underneath his jaw, gently coaxing the brat to raise his head by applying subtle pressure with the weapon. so… what are you doing?
"You are sick, you know that? Why don't you seek for help, for that hay-wired brain of yours?"
TAGS: @zeit00 || NOTES: You asked for it, mitya
Pupil thinned. Iris hued lighter than before. An annoyed facial expression.
His appearance was a sign of anger and danger implied from the host of the body, Leon. He was the other Leon, the older brother and the one who had soaked his hands with crimson red paint from countless bodies just to keep the one resided in the body safe and sound. Dante continued to fix his intense glare on the man, who had shamefully destroyed his pride by marking him as his property with something more permanent than a marker; he tattooed him and at a very obvious spot too. His mind began to put pieces around him together, forming a list of strategies to either win, or to escape from this man's presence. Aura emitted from the grenette was very unpleasing. It was dark and sickening as all he could sniff from him was blood. Dante shifted his body and had one leg knee while another leg bent like a pressed spring ready to push him away in case the man was going to harm him.
No, he was not worried about himself. He was worried about Leon.
"do you remember me, ljubímets?", the boogeyman spoke and his voice rang in his conscious mind like a siren from hell. Dante, with his teeth were gritted tightly, let out a 'tch' and replied, "There's no way I could forget you. Bastard." His eyes did not twitch a muscle but they did grow wider when he realized what the man had done. It was quick and swift, almost as if the time has taken side with the killer. Before he knew it, the man Leon was trying to save, who was gasping for the thin thread of life, has already died. His heart thumbed loudly as he slowly turned his eyes over to the man's chest. A knife was embedded into him and blood began to leak from the wound. A drop of sweat rolled down long his face frame.
"Damn it, Leon. We are in trouble now." He spoke in his mind, but he doubted the boy Leon could hear him. In a place where others will not understand and where only the two of them existed, there was a room formed from their memory back when they were young. Four walls- plain in white, two sealed windows with one facing the bed and a ceiling fan that made a creepy sound when it was switched on. On the bed was Leon, sleeping with his body curled to keep himself warm from the clawing cold and darkness in the prison-like room of the past. Dante returned back to the reality, as his eyes shut for a second due to dryness.
He watched him closing in, cutting the gap and intruding the safe zone he has mentally recognized. And so, he brought his hands back and hid one hand to the back, reaching for his cellphone as slow and steady as he could so he would not notice it.
"You are sick, you know that? Why don't you seek for help, for that hay-wired brain of yours?"He snarled, slowly standing up from his spot and took few steps backs in the same pace as him moving front for him. The alley was small, honestly, and he did not notice he was going to back a wall. Startled to find concrete surface behind him, he clicked his tongue. Damn it, he was now concerned with no where else to flee. Should he dodge him, he was not sure if he could win against the psychotic man's speed. He had even demonstrated his reflex and it was way above his level. Growling, Dante remained silent as his eyes fixed on him, glancing over the silver sharp weapon in his grip from time to time. His words came with an obvious threat as the dagger began to shift its position from his side to the boy's forehead, along his face frame and finally rested underneath his jaw. His chin was tapped upward in response due to the sharp tip poking his skin.
If it was Leon, he would have fainted by now; that pathetic persona. Dante's pupils began to thin as if he was a beast focusing his attention on to the man. He scoffed with a grin. Sweats began to accumulate and few drops started to roll down his pale skin. "Firstly, I'll fucking scar your ugly face if my face bleeds. Secondly..."
He made a swift swing with his hand towards the man's hand that was securing a dagger underneath his chin, closed in by placing one leg between his and brought himself front. His brows knitted as he raised his another hand. The fingers has curled into a fist, ready to land a punch on the man's face.
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
a pleased hum resounded through the tight space, mocking the youth and the deceased thugs. dimitri relished the thrill, the adrenaline coursing through his body, for he stumbled upon a true gem. his expectations had been shattered by the auburn haired youth, who continued to prove his excellence. pale lips curved into a demented grin as the moonlight disappeared, casting the alley in darkness. blood ceased seeping from his prey’s body, the steady stream slowly halting and portraying the finality of death. the light vanished from the amber hued eyes, and contentment settled over the pastel haired sociopath. death delighted the psycho. his hands were stained with the blood of innocents and convicts, highlighting his disregard for social norms. he understood the principals of society and often masked his sadism behind a charming smile; however, when faced with his toy, the mask fractured, shattering into a million pieces as he taunted the youth. in a sense, he could not secure victory until dantalion submitted to him, and he savored the opportunity to break the fascinating teen’s will. life was a game, the setting for the conflicts between ideals and the sounding board for war. chuckles attempted to escape the older man as his newest pet realized the severity of the situation, understanding dawning in his eyes when they latched onto the thug’s lifeless body.
the spoken words belayed his toy’s stubborn nature, undermining dimitri’s attempts to frighten the other into submission. their game had finally begun, kick started by their chance encounter. insular laughter burst forth, bouncing off the brick walls as the clouds continued to obscure the moon. without the moon, movement became perilous, yet the brunette managed to inch himself closer to the dead end, which resulted in his collision with the rough surface. both remained trapped in the alley—either by choice or by fate. dantalion would have to struggle for his freedom—fight tooth and nail to disengage the green haired male’s claws from his body. the synister tattoo claimed the teen as the sociopath’s toy… his belonging. the underworld remembered his wrath and would not contest his claim, meaning that his chosen prey would struggle alone. rapture abandoned him. wraith rarely stepped into the affairs of the crime organization. seven moons still fought to regain their former position in society. dantalion had been cast aside, left ripe for the pastel haired predator. his little puppy only needed to awaken to reality, and he delighted in forcing those olive hued eyes to open to the harsh truth. the laughter halted, stolen away by an unexpected movement and locked away for a brief moment.
silence settled over the alley like a heavy blanket, muffling the distant sounds of traffic, and above them, the stars twinkled, beckoning the moon out of hiding. seconds dragged by as the green haired male’s figure trembled due to suppressed laughter. dantalion continued to surprise him by refusing to yield to fear and by lashing out. strands of pale green hair settled in front of his face, casting the sharp features in shadows and leaving his expression a mystery to his cornered toy. help? oh, no. i think help would only worsen the situation, jade green colored eyes flashed as he lifted his head, revealing the emotionless cast of his features and the crazed gleam of his eyes. i’m happy to have made an impression upon you, dantalion; however, i think you’ve made a grievous error. a pale hand lifted away from his side, darting forward to grasp the dark haired youth’s wrist and subtly tightening his grip with each passing minute. your bravery could be considered stupidity, and i would hate to lose such an amusing toy. the apathetic cast shattered with the malicious smirk that surfaced upon his pale lips. shall i enlighten you, ljubímets? or would you prefer to remain unaware? emerald tinted eyes narrowed, falling to a half-mast as he tipped his head to the side—silently inviting the teen to continue with his reckless behavior. regardless of dantalion’s response, his night promised ample entertainment.
TAGS: @zeit00 || NOTES: I have nnnoooo idea what he was planning to do, I swear. QAQ SORRY IF IT'S HORRIBLE!!
Lashing out at him was a big mistake, he realized that. Still, it was better than not doing anything at all. He needed to break free from him and from his sight, as it sicken him down to his core. Was he an idiot for trying to lay a punch on the older man's face, knowing his reflex was better than his? Perhaps. He had already acknowledged the fact this masked human demon was quicker and stronger, and yet why would he do such a worthless retaliation? Easy; he was simply showing to him he was not going to give in to him. There's no way in hell or heaven he would bow down to this bastard who had stripped his freedom and pride by marking him as his belonging. The tattoo spot arched in his mind, the agony of being forced to become the madman's personal puppet.
Who the hell he think he is.
Dante flinched when the man avoided his assault ever so easily and even grabbed his wrist in one swing. He fixed his legs on the ground, scowling in pain when the older man applied more force around the joint of his. "Let go!" He shouted, trying to snag his hand off from his hold. The grip was too firm and too strong that he failed to pull his hand free. His fingers twitched little by little, a sign it was going numb. His another free hand reached up for his hand, trying to loose the fingers that wrapped securely around the wrist.
"your bravery could be considered stupidity, and i would hate to lose such an amusing toy." His voice heard, taunting his mind. Like a carving knife, the words carved themselves in his conscious with fear and force to have him surrendered. Hell, as if that would happen. The gripped wrist palm turned blue and he could not feel his muscle anymore. "Fuck fuck fuck!" He cussed in his mind, the agony showed clearly on his face as he knitted his thin brows to the middle. His teeth gritted tightly, trying to bear with the pain from his tightening grip. "Who... the fuck... wanna be your toy?!" He shouted, glaring at him as he tried to shake his hand away.
"shall i enlighten you, ljubímets? or would you prefer to remain unaware?"
Eerie feeling rushed in inside him. Dante went stiff and looked at him with a slow turn of his head to face him completely. "Wha...what do yo..." He did not quite understand what he was trying to do. His mind screeched for Leon, yet he wished not to ask for the innocent part of him to surface now. He was scared, but for Leon's sake he will hold on. No, he was not that scared.
It was more like he could not help feeling anxious over this excitement this bastard was going to lay out for him. Let's play your game, sin- we'll see who's the real demon here.
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
freedom—people preached upon the ideal, fought for the ideal, and died for the ideal. they never realized that they chained themselves to society’s rules. they submitted themselves to the whims of the populace’s sheep-like mentality. in the end, true freedom remained unobtainable, vaulted onto a towering pedestal and left to rot, but the oblivious masses cheered for their independence and allowed themselves to bend to the continuous shifts in regulations and in unwritten laws. conscious thought escaped them. they wanted an easy life, shoving aside their cherished freedom and accepting any boon that approached them, for no one wanted to struggle on the cold streets. envy and greed characterized humanity, painting them in dark hues. humane notions fell away when the fight for survival commenced, and dimitri relished witnessing their struggling and their wailing. everyone questioned their circumstances, rarely dwelling upon the possibilities and appreciating their lot in life. no, humans wanted more and more and more, never satisfied and always hungering for more. they fed into their own egotism, throwing away freedom for money and for fame.
it was a sickening, a maddening cycle.
no, only the depraved and the convicted understood the importance of freedom. they tossed aside society and lived without regard to their neighbor or to their fate. the idea of punishment did not phase them, and they became the outcasts of society. people turned them into pariahs, labeling them as psychotic and throwing them into a mental institution. they were not flawed beings. they had attained perfection by swimming through turbulent waters to reach freedom—the pinnacle of human desire. dimitri classified himself as a chainless individual. he existed on the fringes of society and partook in shadier businesses. he—like the rest of hardened criminals and sociopaths—was a creature of the night—of sensuality and of desire. for him, compromising and laws meant nothing. his word was the law, which his underlings followed without question.
jade green tinted eyes glittered dangerously as his grip on dante’s wrist loosened slightly, the blue color acting as a deterrent to the pastel haired sacrifice’s unconscious action. no, you can’t obtain freedom by simply shouting, he purred, voice soft and suspiciously gentle. the words hovered in the air between them, his carefully calculated silence reinforcing the impact of his statement. there’s a fine line, and you have to walk that line to survive. laughter bubbled to the forefront, issuing forth and filling the silence. his dagger rose into the air, blade pressing against the red head’s neck. i’ve granted you access to this world, and you must survive. dimitri leaned closer to his prey, strands of hair falling off his shoulders and dangling in the space between them. but… pale lips twisted into a cruel smile while the pressure subtly increased as he pressed the knife against the pale column of flesh, waiting to see the familiar rust color of blood. i’ll ask again. do you want to remain unaware?
His voice stroke like lightning in his mind, even though it was no louder than an eerie whisper. It made him startled and stunned, not knowing what he meant and what was in his mind. Emerald eyes read the other pair intensely, but he sensed nothing except cold and ominous feelings. His conscious screamed for him to react quickly to the threat that was about to leash him from his freedom; to react on behalf of Leon who meant a lot to him.
Being raised by a wild beast herself, Dante, more or less, inherited traits of Haine as he drummed his tongue and produced a sound of a growling animal. His finger muscles fidgeted when the man loosened his grip and let the blood flowed back in. The rush made Dante felt utmost uncomfortable, making him gritted his teeth. His eyes glared darkly at the man. He flinched as he felt a sudden rush of cold on a spot on his neck. "Damn it..." he cursed, as the knife made a cut and red fresh blood began to roll out and along the pale skin. It stung him, reminded him of the night he killed his own dad.
He killed people... So why bothered pretending being good boy? Is that what he was trying to make him remember?
A grin fleshed on his facial feature. Oh.
"Aha... Ahahaha!!" he suddenly burst into laughter with his eyes shut tightly as if he truly was laughing to his heart content. He began to reduce the sane-less laughter into dark gleeful chuckles. "Nah, if you are my dad, I'll be happy to send you back to hell," he said. His eyes rolled down to where the knife was resting, a 'tch' escaped from his mouth. "This is boring," he exhaled. He rose his leg, bending it close to his chest so he could lift it up and places its foot on him. "Don't get too high of yourself, you are just a nobody," he said. With snickers looped in the air, smirking Dante spoke, "Get the fuck off me." He channeled enough strength to his leg, pushing it front in order to push him away.
TAGS: @zeit00 OOC: Dante's gonna 'play' with him, don't worry. XP
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
restriction—dimitri delighted in the duality of the idea. people loathed being chained to an ideal or to an individual; however, the laws of society morphed into metaphorical bindings that protected the peace and the comfort of humanity. they wasted time arguing for and against regulations that served the purpose of dissuading criminals from action. the pastel haired sociopath disregarded their efforts and focused on the idea behind restriction. to him, the word transformed into the vivid image of a wingless bird or a crushed butterfly… animals commonly associated with freedom and beauty. his heart drummed in his chest—a steady rhythm that stated his existence, yet without his wings, the heartbeat vanished, locked away and ignored. the absence of freedom destroyed people… and he wanted to clip dantalion’s wings, see him shatter and break due to an unexpected crash with earth’s surface. restraining and dominating, he refused to release his tentative grip on the teen, knowing that the red head carried the potential to become great. it would only be a matter of time and of careful nurturing.
perhaps… dantalion would be his killer, would transform into the living incarnation of his nightmares and would sever his ties with reality. the idea amused him, for the fiery haired youth lacked the required knowledge to triumph over him. even in the distant future, his toy would prove incapable of triumphing over him due to the gap in their current abilities and in their experience.
one pale eyebrow rose as his prey shifted, leg moving upwards and balance situated on one appendage. thin lips curved into a demented smirk while maniacal laughter burst forth from his captive toy. the sound reverberated through the alley and mingled with the lingering traces of dimitri’s earlier display. to create a symphony, he only needed the moaning and groaning of his prey, and the cacophony of sound would appeal to his darker side. laughter bubbled to the surface, trapped behind his closed mouth and tempered with the ending of dantalion’s sudden outburst. bemusement graced his features as the brat’s words graced his ears, and the notion hidden behind the statements delighted him. his potential seemed immeasurable as he felt a shoe clad foot press against his chest. the greenette did not attempt to avoid the impending strike. no, he wanted to see the force that his chosen doll could unleash when cornered.
silver gleamed, sliding across dantalion’s neck as momentum forced the psychotic male to increase the distance between their bodies. his grip on the red haired teen’s wrist broke; however, he managed to stay upright due to a series of rapid steps. jade green hued eyes remained locked on his prey’s olivine gaze while he leaned forward, loose strands of hair swaying in the gentle breeze that raced down the alley. i applaud your bravery, dimitri began while shifting the dagger to his left hand, grip reflexively tightening and figure returning to an appropriate stance. his head shifted to tilt toward the deceased thug’s body, but the message behind his actions remained hidden and shrouded in mystery. as you refuse to answer my questions, i suggest we play a game. if i win, you’ll listen to my story and answer my questions. amusement sparked to life in his eyes as he shifted his weight to his left leg. and if you win, i’ll let you walk away… pretend that we never crossed paths. his smirk transitioned into a fanged grin. you could maintain your freedom… for a short while.
with his trap set, dantalion lacked the options to evade him, for the game would not end with the youth’s victory. no, there would be no hope of escape. dimitri planned to clip the fragile wings attached to the teen’s back. he, however, decided to provide the other with fool’s hope, desiring to entertain himself with his companion’s reactions. do you agree? he queried while subtly correcting his grip on the dagger and tensing his frame for combat. the dictator never promised to reveal the rules or the goal of the game before initiating the first strike. the red head appeared to be a quick study though, so he doubted it would matter in the end.
The sensation of taking one's life- how he had missed it. He never thought his madness entrapped by sturdy cage of humanity was about to break and it was all thanks to him. What will the female vulpine say if she knows what was going on in his head right now? Will she be mad, or will she lock him away like she usually does? The young boy stood with one hand covered one side of his face. Eerie chuckles escaped from his mouth. Red bang covered the other side of his face and as he raised his head up, he revealed his emerald eyes soaked with cold gaze.
Blood slowly trailed down from the cut on his neck. Goosebumps hit him from where the cut was and it spread through his body. The excitement was like fuel feeding the fire that began to grow in him. He continued to chuckle and spread his leg to support him standing- a gesture to show fearless and independent. he tilted his head lazily and brought down the hand that was covering his face over to where the cut was. Eyes lingered over the man's features and then looked down on the palm with red spots of blood. "And I praise your ignorance and stupidity," he muttered lightly, rubbing his fingers with his palm to feel the texture of the diluted liquid from his body.
Did he not warn him about leaving a cut? Surely this man was trying to test him. So, he thought a young boy like him has more to the bark than the bite, eh? He laughed behind the closed mouth. Amazing how a man can be this brave and yet foolish. Oh well, where's the fun if he was to agree to him without a fight, right? Dante's eyes moved away from staring at the palm to the man.
"Agreeing to a devil's wish. I am not that naive," He replied calmly. One hand dug into his pocket and remained inside. For some reasons he did not feel cold could outrun him this time. The raging flame inside him kept him from being indulged by the coldness of the night, and the sudden burst of adrenaline made him felt as if he could sprint for 200 meters. Silence spread its shade between them as he quietly analyzed his situation.
This man won't let him off the hook easily now, will he? And this game he mentioned, it will be played according to his wish. So he probably has no chance to beat him, after all. He should say no then, shouldn't he? A grin flashed secretly on the corner of his lips.
"But then, since I'm bored, let us play this game of yours, though I doubt you're going to play fair," he said, sort of announcing that he has no intention to play fair either. Who would, if the opponent was a carnation of evil?
TAGS: @zeit00 OOC: Pumping evil Dante. Bring it on!
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
disenchanted and abrasive—dantalion displayed personality quirks that few synister members could compete with. the underlings wanted his attention, and they preyed upon each other, hoping that their actions would garner a reaction from their boss. the pastel haired sociopath viewed them as imbecilic and easily controllable tools, translating into his complete disregard of them. in his mind, they lacked emotions, lacked substance and merely existed for his own entertainment. on the other hand, the red haired brat burst into existence, painted in vivid colors and imprinted upon his memories. dimitri attempted to dislodge the teen from his mind, but his efforts ended in failure. his thoughts constantly drifted back to the startling olivine hued eyes and the bloody scene that greeted his gaze. the image haunted his dreams while the desire to claim and to dominate consumed his conscious thoughts, so in the end, he hunted down the youth, ordering his capture and forcibly inducting him into synister.
malicious laughter bubbled to the surface as his gaze roved over dantalion’s frame, eyes boring into the hand pressed against the teen’s face. the thirst for blood existed within the red head, and the thought delighted dimitri, who wanted to see the youth transform into a mass murderer. in his mind, his toy existed as his apprentice—the chosen individual that would receive personal training from himself. synister claimed the teen, and synister refused to abandon the childe. dantalion would remain within the crime syndicate until his demise. his fanged grin shifted into a subtle upward tilt of his lips, and his features contained a maniacal undertone, cleverly hidden underneath the mask of apathy. jade green hued eyes gleamed as his fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger. his right hand curled into a fist, feeling decidedly empty due to the lack of weapon. mentally, he debated revealing his fourth hidden dagger, but he refrained, deciding that the surprise factor outweighed his momentary discomfort.
very, very brave, he commented while lifting his left hand, pressing the blade of his weapon against his cheek and applying pressure until the sting of metal slicing into unprotected skin reached his mind. his movements stopped as blood began to trace a path down his cheek, and with the blood seeping from the wound, he removed the knife, lowering his arm and allowing the weapon to rest loosely in his grasp. i think… stupidity proceeds brilliance. dimitri stepped closer, bending forward to level his gaze with dantalion’s. so i won’t take offense to your remarks. his free hand rose to brush against his forehead, shifting his bangs behind his ear and leaving his jewel toned eyes unhindered by the pale locks. on occasion, he loathed dealing with his hair; however, he did not see a viable reason to chop off the lengthy strands.
with a pleased smirk, he backpedaled, increasing the distance between himself and dantalion, and when satisfied with the created expanse, he pivoted to face the alley’s entrance. his arms moved away from his sides, stretching out and leaving his back vulnerable to attack. i don’t believe you’re naïve, ljubímets, dimitri stated while tipping his head back and staring at the night sky with wide eyes. stars twinkled overhead while the clouds shifted to reveal a portion of the moon; however, the revealed light did not pierce the gloom of the alley, leaving them shrouded in darkness. no, no, not naïve. pale lids lowered and blocked out the world, but with the absence of his sight, his other senses expanded to provide him with a notion of the current situation. and i’m pleased to announce that the game will begin shortly. i’ll answer… one question before we begin. his grip on the dagger vanished, allowing the object to fall through the air and collide with the ground. the greenette wondered if his prey would fall for the trap or not, but only time would tell.
The meeting in Nightshade was still on going, with three-quarter of the seats in the room belonged to Regalia and Rapture's founders and the rest were the guests. The vulpine took the seat closest to the founders, specifically her father. Her leg crossed over as she quietly watched the proposers voiced out their ideas. Her chin seek support from two fingers of the hand that elbowed the chair arm. Eyes did not move away from them even for a second and continued to focus on their body gestures of anxiety and fear.
Surely, they have come to realize that this room might be their burial if they ever made any of them flinch in anger since neither of them seemed interested to work with the authority. Jung-Ho reviewed the file for the second time and started speaking. That was when Haine was found glancing away from the desk and on her phone. Her eyes closed half-way. Just few more minutes, right? She began to worry about that baby lion of hers.
- - - x x x - - -
The red-haired boy rolled his out from the corner of his upper lip, licking along the surface and withdrew back inside. Finger that stained with his blood twitched from time to time, reminding him that this was real. This man in front of him was real. His nightmare was about to come back and it was real. The man's behavior was simply inviting the dark part inside him to leap out. His eyes twitched at the sigh of blood rolled down from the cut he applied to himself. With a grin, he scoffed, "indeed." How ironic, was he referring the sentence (stupidity proceeds brilliance) to himself? "I can see that," he said calmly. Only a stupid guy will cut his own face.
He raised his chin up so he could see him. The pairs of green eyes locked on one another. Although the situation remarked him to be afraid, he was not. Daringly, he looked back at him with emotionless gaze.
It was then the game began.
Dante turned his head aside slightly, and watched the man from the corner of his eyes. What was he thinking? Should a man simply let his back face his enemy? Oh wait, he was stupid after all. The teenager scoffed silently. He should stop calling him stupid, for that stupidity was simply a camouflage to trick him into believing he was indeed a stupid predator. There was no such stupid predator in this world.
Sly, but not stupid.
Sharp sound of metal collided with the ground pierced in the air into his ears. The sight of the weapon laid on the ground made the young boy knitted his eyebrows. "What..." he exhaled in disbelief. Okay, maybe he would be the first stupid predator he has ever seen. Rubbing his forehead, with his index finger, he started thinking options he has in hand. Trying to escape was not something he would do, and trying to reach out for the knife would be futile. He could trick him but that seemed rather unnecessary. For now, he decided to let the knife as where it was. He dropped his hand back to his side and looked at him.
"Why me?" he asked. He wanted to know about this boogeyman Leon was so afraid of, but at the same time he was more curious as to why he was marked. What happened that made him an interesting prey to this man?
HERE'S TO YOU, GLORIFY, MY DARLING, ARE YOU SATISFIED?
dimitri teetered on the brink of dissolving into hysterics. adrenaline coursed through his veins while laughter bubbled to the surface, fighting to escape the sadist’s iron control. thoughts circulated through his mind as his gaze bored into the black veil recognized as the night sky. the twinkling stars morphed into crystalline jewels while the hidden moon lacked the strength necessary to slice through the impeding darkness. danger lurked on the horizon, and an electrifying current settled across the island. for a brief moment, the tension increased, rising higher and higher as the silence reigned. the absence of sound heightened the nearly tangible unease that infiltrated the small space. desires clashed as strands of pale green hair shifted, moving in time with the subtle movement of the maniac’s head.
oh, dimitri never expected to gain such delicious entertainment from his toy. he spent hours dwelling on the possibilities, and with dantalion standing before his eyes, the red head’s potential rested heavily upon his tongue, increasing his excitement with each soundless ticking of the clock. his arms slowly floated back to his sides, resting limply for a brief moment. the tense cast of his shoulders evaporated as he crouched down, body low to the ground and fingers brushing lovely over his dagger. one hand moved toward his face, fingertips pressing against the self-inflicted wound. pain raced through his body. the sensation amplified his awareness of his prey as fingers wrapped around the hilt of his weapon, allowing the cold metal to press against his bare skin.
fingers trailed away from his injury, smearing the crimson liquid across his pale cheek, yet the movement halted as his fingers brushed over his lips. his expression twisted into one of sadistic pleasure while his tongue appeared, swiping at the bloody appendages and then retreating to the confines of his mouth. the silence continued to weigh upon the duo, for dimitri wanted to savor the moment. he believed that their fated encounter would result in the advancement of his plot; however, he needed to enjoy his time with the untarnished version of his doll. once again, laughter threatened to escape him, hovering near the surface and causing his teeth to press harshly against one another. words floated in and out of his conscious thoughts—snippets of possible retorts and varying expressions meant to convey his amusement.
regardless of dantalion’s actions, the greenette recognized his victory. the sweet taste hovered upon his tongue, taunting him and begging him to obtain his desire. jade green hued eyes reappeared as he pushed himself into an upright position, back facing his toy and body lacking the tautness of a prepared fighter. ah, dimitri breathed while tipping his head back and letting his gaze stare into the endless sea of bright lights and of darkness. such an unoriginal question. my heart bleeds. pale lips quirked into an absentminded grin. i thought my motives were obvious. you amused me, so i claimed you as my toy. in an unexpected movement, he pivoted to face dantalion, easily destroying the created distance and leaning closer to the youth. shades of green clashed as he reached out a bloody hand toward the other’s injured neck. my reasons were simple and entirely selfish. does that ease your troubled mind, ljubímets? chuckles issued froth from the man—brief and bitter, which contrasted with the warped smile that graced his features.
God, this man was the first guy who ever made the dark persona rolled his eyes out of disgust so many time. He shook his head lightly as he considered this boogeyman was nothing more but a sickening and twisted man. His fingers began to trail along the cut he had made earlier on his neck. The wound dried itself quickly, surprisingly, and so as the blood that seemed remained on his skin as red dirty smears.
"So," he tried to pick up where this bastard dropped, trying to understand what he had said earlier as a very reasonable excuse as he can for abducting him- a young boy he has no idea about- into his little insane parade. "I amused you huh?" he muttered, nodding his head slowly. Amuse sounded rather bogus to him since he was pretty sure he did not do anything special in his past. His eyes then widened slightly. Could it be he was referring to the night he killed the man he was escorting years ago? It can't be. Dante gritted his teeth and held himself from laughing but in the end he burst.
"You are damn funny, you know that?" he said, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. Heavy breath was inhaled as he straightened his body and a heavy huff escaped to end the forced morph out of him. "You don't even know me, and you claimed me as your toy? Who the fuck agreed to be your toy?" he spit the 'toy'word as if it was a poison and with disgust. His eyes glared at him with such hatred. The man approached him back but this time he did not budge. He stood still, calmly waited for the so-called predator of his life came closer to him. Dante gritted his teeth and bared his canine teeth that pointed out through the gap of his pale lips. Thin scent of blood layered in the air slithered into his nose as the man's bleeding hand reached out for his skin where the drying cut was.
"You don't know what's going on in my head right now," he said glaring at him and the knife that rested on the ground. He needed an opening to dodge him and reach for the sharp blade. He needed to get out of here before things get ugly and he has the feelings it might. With his eyes drawn back to the man he scoffed, "My mind will be at ease once I get rid off you, bastard. You humiliated so bad I live a miserable life. I haven't thank you for that shit yet."
What a lunatic.
