sleepytimejunction | ❧ oh but you taste exquisite

[A callous action, yet he finds his heart unmoved. When was it that he allowed himself to be comfortable with gore and cruelty? Sometime ago, surely, when he was trapped in darkness and pain.

Adrian has nothing to retrieve for himself, and instead watching Dimitri. There's unquestionable strength and power in each move, uncaring, unshackled. Not unlike Adrian himself.]

It may be unnecessary, now that I'm plenty full.

[Dimitri would not know of what he speaks, which is fine. Though it's hardly something he could see himself offering too many times in the future, he lets it be so here; having the prince's aid in fighting the Empire is necessary and keeping him placated would be useful.

So Adrian takes in a breath, then growls as he transforms. A wolf not unlike the other beasts that roam the country, but its coat purely white and Adrian's golden eyes.

He looks at Dimitri expectantly.]

[A lesser man, perhaps, would've taken a step backwards at the sudden sight of a bloodstained man transforming into a massive beast. Perhaps he would've, too, five years ago, when such things were still new and astonishing to him. Now, he only remains still and scrutinizing, eyes narrowed and fingers tight around his lance as the great white wolf appears before him.

He's seen men take on the shape of beasts, before. One even stands out strongly in his mind — the creature that the cardinal Aelfric became out of fervent desire to see the dead risen again. The Umbral Beast had even remembered the woman's name, in its shrieks and howls. What will Adrian remember, he wonders, as he finally lifts his gaze enough to stare directly into those waiting golden eyes?]

If you still have your wits about you, paw the ground three times.

[He's never heard of a demonic beast that kept the full capacity of its reason, but if this Adrian is an exception, then the sheer potential at his disposal is...astonishing.]

You invite me to ride, is that it? A Blaiddyd upon a great wolf — fitting.

[There's a snort from Adrian, but he understands the hesitance. This was just one of many years of experimentation, to see if they could have beasts of a sound mind under their control. A giant wolf is not quite a monster made out of crest stones and weapons, but it was the start of many things.

He paws at the ground three times, as asked. Then he tilts his head, as if to tell Dimitri to make up his mind.]

...Very well.

[So be it, then. Whether his death comes now, or later — no, he'll choose to believe in this strange creature's thirst for vengeance, and place faith in the notion that it matches his own.

He strides over, strapping his lance to his back to give him free use of both of his hands, and hesitates only a second over the prospect of mounting up onto a wolf's back before making the attempt in the same fashion he would a horse. It's slightly less practiced and less elegant, perhaps, but such things don't matter much to him, especially not anymore.

There's ample fur to hold on to, close to the back of the wolf's neck. He sinks his gauntlets in, finding purchase, and nods.]

Magnificent.

[It is not something he would grant easily, but he is determined to gain a bit more of this prince's trust. Even if it is only a fraction, then all the easier for them to cooperate and rip apart the Empire together. Once he is certain that Dimitri is on his back and steady, he takes off.

His paws pound against the ground with strength, and he leaps into the air to gain distance every now and again. Memories of the monastery are distant from his boyhood, but he still knows where to go.

It is, after all, the center of everything.]

So swift —

[It's astonishing, how fast this creature can move; he covers more ground than even a pegasus or wyvern could, it seems. What impossible strength, what speed, what murderous skill — how did the Empire ever manage to keep such a beast in captivity for so long, he wonders?

And he has time to wonder, with the trip to Garreg Mach being as distant as it is. Time enough to recall the unfolding of the events in the glade, in light of what Adrian had told him after. They'd had him in chains, and he'd chosen not to betray Dimitri's trap to them — but he hadn't started killing himself until the first man had died. On its face, that could simply have been a tactical decision, but in light of the blood...

They must have starved him of it, to keep him weak. Tasting it again is what has given him his strength and abilities back.

Dimitri wrinkles his nose, put off by the ugly recognition. Rumors of blood experiments have floated around the Kingdom for years upon years — Ashe would sometimes recollect some rather fantastical ones centered around Yharnam, if one plied him properly back in the old days — but to have real proof of it before him is something else entirely.]

Seeing you this way, I almost find it hard to believe you need my assistance in toppling the Empire. What aid can I possibly lend, next to powers the likes of yours?

[With enough numbers, most things will fall. Even Dimitri, even Adrian; just one of them is not enough to fight an entire army with all of its power. Two will probably hardly be enough, but they at least stand a better chance in this way.

The travel does leave him to dwell. To think of his days in boyhood. How he lived in his humble cottage with his mother and father, yet they seemed to be drawn away from the world. How curiously his father had taught him so much in the ways of science, his mother with medicine. They almost seemed to truly be departed in a lot of ways from the rest of Fodlan.

He didn't realize it then what it meant. Yet, he could not find it in his heart to be frustrated with his father.

They near enough to Garreg Mach that Adrian slows down. He walks in a tight circle for a moment before he stops completely, letting Dimitri find his way to slide off of his back.

There are rats to clear out of the prince's home.]

[His dismount comes easy, sliding off the wolf's back and landing in the familiar grass with a crunch of earth beneath his feet. They're close, now — close enough that the dead grow restless in his ears, drawn forth by the familiar sights and sounds of the monastery he's come to think of as his own.

Byleth's voice has yet to join theirs. Every time he comes back, he hopes this won't be the time it does.]

Bandits. Thieves. Looters. Whether common or wearing the colors of a highborn house, we shall slaughter them all for their trespass.

[He rubs his hand against the wolf's side, sunk deep into the fur.]

Are you tired, after so long a journey?

[The hand in his fur is... not unpleasant. Adrian lets out a huff of air, leaning against it slightly. The kindest hand he's had in years, to come from a beast not unlikel himself.

He only pulls away so that he can transform freely, back to his body of a man, deceptive in all ways.]

I will be fine. There is blood to be had, and it will strengthen me.

When this battle is through, you must advise me further about your needs.

[Perhaps Adrian won't want to, but maybe that's just all the more reason to ask it of him. Besides, the candor will make it easier to adjudicate his loyalty later. There must be trust, before he can offer trust in return.]

Now that we are allies, any vulnerability of yours is one of mine as well, is it not?

[For a moment, Adrian peers at him, his gaze a clear scowl. However... for as much as Adrian has offered him an olive branch, so Dimitri does the same in his way.

A unit is only good if they can protect each other's weaknesses.]

After the battle then, I will answer your questions.

Then let's be off.

[His eyes narrow slightly, his expression taking on a similar appearance to the one he'd worn back in the glade — focused, cunning, and perhaps even a little aroused.]

These rats defile this place every second they spend inhabiting it. It's time they atoned with their lives.

[The expression tells Adrian what he must know about this man, how allured he is to the prospect of bloodlust. At that part, they are hardly different; there will always be that part of Adrian who would gladly bathe in the bodies of his foes.

His claws extend and he tilts his head.]

I am with you.

[It is hardly surprising that thieves would be eager to find ways to make coin off of the sufferings of others. This is no different as they prowl and loot off of a place that is very likely beloved to Dimitri.

Adrian has no home to truly return to, but he thinks that if he had he would relate to that prospect.

He skulks around the walls, his nails digging into brick as if it were nothing. When one thief strays too close, Adrian yanks him up onto the wall with him and tears out his throat promptly. The bandit tries to scream, only able to gurgle on his own blood before drowning in it. The flesh matters not to Adrian as he indulges in burying his face into the wound and drinking heavily.]

[Walking the old familiar campus of Garreg Mach changes something in Dimitri, as it always does when he returns here. Cold, ruthless killing takes on a new character, for once lit with a strangely passionate fury. He was happy here once, for a time; he had a professor who supported him, a house that looked up to him, a dream of restoring Duscur to prosperity and acquitting them of their alleged crimes. The future was never bright and sunny, but it was a distant star to follow — a hope, a belief, a wish for better.

Look at it now. Crawling with bandits and blackguards like a corpse attracting flies. And with each one he kills, the more he hates them, the more he wants them to suffer for ever daring to set foot here, where part of him still believes that Byleth might return someday, while part of him still pretends she lives at all.

The first two, he kills with his lance; it breaks in the third, from being thrown too hard, but it's all the more satisfying to switch to close combat and simply brutalize the renegades with his hands. There are so many ways to kill men with just his hands and the strength afforded by his Crest; he can rip their limbs from their bodies, he can crush their throats and let them die strangling. He can cave their faces in. He can drive his fist through their hearts. After a while, all notions of strategy are gone. He simply kills, anything he finds, anything that moves, anything that breathes.

Soon enough, there are no others left, and he is bloodstained up to his elbows, stains of it in streaks across his face, rivulets of it running like raindrops down his armor. He is filthy with it, run red like the grass in the glade, and he stands across from Adrian, dripping with it, and takes silent stock of how his companion fared.]

[Adrian is no cleaner; he has relished himself in his prey, and it can be seen all over his person. Once more, his hair is stained crimson with blood running down his chin and arms. Fortunately, his clothing was hardly anything of note to begin with, so the sticky red means nothing to him.

When he looks at Dimitri, his eyes are glazed over with lust. The blood on its own had been enough for him, but to see the prince just as covered--

Adrian approaches him, sighing in pleasure.]

Marvelous...

[He does not ask; he reaches out for one of Dimitri's hands, sliding his tongue over his gauntlets.]

[There's so much blood; the amount spilled makes the air reek of it, copper and hot amid the fallen corpses that will soon bloat and turn rancid as they begin to rot in the sun. There's so much of it, they're soaked with it, and his mouth falls slightly open as Adrian approaches him with a gaze so potent, so hungry, that he can't look away.

How good it felt to kill; how unfortunate that there weren't more of them to slaughter with his bare hands. But it's almost as satisfying to watch Adrian's long pink tongue snake along his wet black gauntlets, filthy and indecent in the way he laps at the residual blood.

How he wants, suddenly, to hear him sigh like that again.]

What a creature you are.

[He feeds on blood, it's not natural, and yet witnessing Adrian's reaction to the carnage somehow leaves Dimitri feeling more understood, more known, than he ever has been before.]

Does it excite you?

[The blood of mongrels is hardly enough to satisfy him, but it is enough for what his body demands of him. He thinks, faintly, how Dimitri's blood must be so much more delicious. A Blaiddyd would be exquisite, but it isn't something he would ask for. He could not think to.

So he wraps his lips around the tip of a finger, sucking it off before he wetly pops off of it.]

Doesn't it for you?

[He says it, like it must be obvious for both of him.]

Yes.

[He can feel his heart beginning to race, his blood pounding in his ears at the obscene attentions Adrian pays to his filthy gloves. If only there were more of them, he thinks suddenly, as the notion makes heat stir deep in the pit of his stomach. If only there were more to kill, more lives to take, more blood to soak his hands. If only.

There is no one here to judge him for these feelings. No one here to feel ashamed before.]

I regret only that it was over so soon...

[It's terrible, isn't it? He could almost envision his mother's disappointed gaze, horrified at what her own son has become. She was so kind and beautiful, wanting only to help others. Here is her son, thrilled and excited with the prospect of bloodshed, sharing that with another who understands in his own way.

He drags his tongue over his other fingers with a sigh.]

As do I.

How fragile flesh is. Too easily, it rips like tissue paper beneath our hands. A fleeting moment of joy.

How beautiful you are when you kill.

[He turns his hand slightly, opening his palm to better allow Adrian to reach, and when he next allows one of Dimitri's fingers close to his lips, Dimitri presses it past them, taking liberties.]

Did those who took you alter your appearance along with your appetites, or were you always so beautiful?

[Instead of being offended, Adrian's eyes go hazy, and he sucks on the fingers in his mouth gladly, inviting. Absently, he scrapes his fangs over the gauntlets, letting them scratch.

He pulls back, a bloody strand of spit lingering from his lips to the fingers.]

You flatter me. My face... has always been mine.

It takes no particular skill to recognize beauty where it is surrounded by atrocity.

[How pretty, that shining strand that keeps them connected. A pity to sever it, however necessary to do so as he hooks those same fingers beneath Adrian's chin and lifts his face as if to appraise it.]

Blood clings to me elsewhere than just my hands.

[His voice is breathless, anticipatory.]

Or have you had your fill already?

[With a slow sigh, Adrian lets his chin rest in Dimitri's grip, a touch-starved beast delighting in the contact. He slowly licks his lips.]

I can always have more. And it is sweeter off of you.

[Adrian smiles, fangs revealing themselves behind his lips.]

Please.

Come and sample it, then.

[He moves a step forward, drawing closer into Adrian's space, his lone blue eye fixed on the blood smudged around the other man's lips. There's a glint of sharp teeth behind them that he hadn't altogether noticed before, not until his lips part and he bares them; they must have been made for ripping and tearing, like a wild thing's, and abruptly he recalls the way something had scratched on his gauntlets when Adrian had been sucking his fingers, a passing sound he hadn't really paid attention to until now.

Careless of him. He should pay much, much closer attention to this beautiful creature's mouth, and all the wicked danger hidden within it.]

Clean my armor with your tongue.

[Lips part once more, and he leans in, slowly sliding his tongue over a splatter of red across the prince's breastplate. It's terribly wonderful, to debase himself and chase after the hunger and lust he has, not just the blood.

So he laves at cold metal, tracing over the shape of the armor as he cleans it away. It takes him down a bit lower, lapping away at his torso, chasing after every drop he can find. It leads Adrian to kneel before him, appropriately.

Carefully, his hand cups under Dimitri's knee, encouraging him to lift his leg and trust him to hold it, to let him work there too.]

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distaster - 2021-12-09 00:54 (UTC) - Expand