IC Contact Post for Ryslig

[godofthemachine]

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Comments

[marcato]

That's what makes it so beautiful.

[Speaking of beautiful. It's almost entrancing, the way AM turns to look at him. He finds that he prefers the other man as an angel, that he does a better job fitting into Aunamee's vision of beauty. All of the other monsters are dingy in comparison.]

When you have someone's life in your hands, every decision you make is the right one. We're like gods.

[He leans in close.]

And people still worship the cruel ones.

[godofthemachine]

[AM smirks in contentment at Aunamee when he affirms what he says. Turning toward the other nephilim, he reaches to take Aunamee's head in his hands, and sink his fingers into his hair. (After all, AM hasn't seen Aunamee with hair since that stint in the past.)]

We are gods.

[And how sweet it would be to crush Aunamee's head between his hands right now. But no, they're "even", aren't they? At least, the episode in the past doesn't count.]

The lord giveth and the lord taketh. The cruel ones are worshiped even harder in a sad attempt to appease them.

But we both know that only works so well.

[marcato]

[He moves quickly, almost violently as he pushes himself forward to kiss AM. It's been far too long since he's felt someone else's lips against his own.

(Let alone lips that called him a god.)

Romance has always had occupied a curious niche in Aunamee's mind. He's never loved or trusted another human being, and yet physical contact like this leaves him uncharacteristicly euphoric -- and thereby exposed. For a man who prides himself on perfection, there is nothing deliberate about his decision to court AM. He hasn't fully considered the risks. The danger.

All he wants to do is get close to the flame without burning up.]

[godofthemachine]

[It seems that AM has said the magic word. Aunamee's demeanor lights up to match his halo. He eagerly takes the other, pressing their lips together. They never really kissed before now, did they? Not like this. Not when they were both beautiful angels as if written out of a fairy story.

Like Aunamee, the physical is what AM is after. He feels no romance, no compassion, for anyone, but he can feel attachment, certainly. And Aunamee is a fun distraction, a fun toy who had once been a thorn in his side. But his passion can easily be channeled in the right places.

There is a soft warmth between them, a beautiful scent that rises, masking the damp, dreary odor of the castle. A hand reaches to feel the soft feathers of Aunamee's wing, internally comparing it with his own.

Funny indeed that they both have become angels.]