REveler - Claiming (9/15) (CoI) (light nsfw)

[02:41] Reveler says, "Khiii. Valentine. Is of wanting to talk."
[02:47] Rea Valenta asks, "Hmm?"
[02:47] Rea Valenta says, "Ahh, alright."
[02:52] Reveler would guide away from the previous battlefield. Some of the Malefic energy used in the fight seems to have passed, anger worked through but there is still a bitter hateful tinge. It is only when he leads fully away from Azrael's lands, to lands clear of the pain of Necromancy does he seem more at ease.

Coming to a mountain, he turns. He looks at Rea, wide eyes.

"Two years and still of a million too soon. Said when was of last talking about us. Is truly how is feeling? Is of wanting to ask."
(Reveler)
[03:02] Rea is unsure as to here this would lead her, an invitation from the Dryad perhaps a little more sudden then what had become common as of late. A single hand runs through blonde tresses as she listens intently, her eyes coming to a brief close.

"Well, I believe that the sight of you is infuriating. You are something that I should have been given the opportunity to challenge in different circumstances. Yet here you are, with that disgusting collar."

She peeks with a single hue, her golden gaze ever focused onto the dryad's countenance.

"Really, I don't know how to feel. This obsession, is abnormal. I hate it, and I hate you..."
(Rea Valenta)
[03:09] His handsome hazel eye rests looking at hers. He does not speak until after she has. His hand rises, fingers finding a perch within the blonde locks and gently turning them inbetween his fingers.

"Is how is really feeling truly, yes?"

He leans close to her, stopping only if she pulls back or their lips are a couple inches away. His gaze does not leave her.

"If is of hating seeing Reveler? If is of hating with everything is having? Then how about is settling? For once and all?"

The hand not in her hair moves to the collar. The object is removed easily, having not been active for quite some time.

"Both of fighting with everything. Winner of taking all? And no other of knowing? Is of way to settle hate. Is of way to settle desire."
(Reveler)
[03:12] "Yes."

Because, there is nothing more than having an unpredictable aspect creep into one's life. Where she has been steeped in the blood of others since her desire for strength, there has not been anything more trivial than the Dryad which nears her person. She is not panicking, not experiencing anything that she hasn't before, yet it still feels unknown.

Her bright gaze is ever still.

"What does that mean? Taking all."

Her gaze narrows upon him, and the collar which is removed. It is quite strange that he lingers with something that malfunctions like so, but ever is the Azraelite intrigued.
(Rea Valenta)
[03:19] His hand gently strokes her cheek, pupils wide and dialting as his tone remained calmed. He breathed slowly, barely resisting the tongue dragging across his lips.

"Has of said it before. Is of wanting Rea to be mine. If is of winning? Will accept Conall. Will accept all of Conall. To hold, to kiss, to adore and look at. To never betray. Is of term that will be set.

And if is of winning? May be of asking Conall to be doing of anything. Can ask to leave and never see again. Can ask to die. Is of Rea's choice.

But winner takes all. Can be of sparring after. But will be of fight to determine who is leading. Will be of fight to determine who is moving the other.

Is of accepting?"
(Reveler)
[03:30] The girl's lips poke out softly, such a remark, surely does mean that he is truly considering the odds of whether or not she wins, or instead, he is so confident that there would be victory on his end, there'd be nothing worth worrying for.

Silence is all that escapes her person, a once thoughtful expression traded for the usual glare. Her determination has yet to be shattered, and even if the weight does not include her own life as forfeit, she knows that she must invite this discord.

She must control, all that she has lost in these last two years.

Not allow for a single moment to escape.

"Fine. I accept."

Where as he is eager, she is the eye of the storm, quiet and misleading, the discomforting tones of malice ever present as the slightest tinge of depravity is exuded midst the occult flames.
(Rea Valenta)
[03:36] He breathes slowly, in then out.

".. Have been wanting it. For a long time. Not of your hate. But of your love. But is of seeing it after has been of talking for a long time. That is not of loving Conall. That is not of willing."

His eyes are cold and collected. His fingertip trails down her cheek to her chin, cradling it. He looks at her quietly, gaze angled towards hers.

"Will be of fighting. But is of wanting to be of hearing your term if of winning. Is wanting to hear what will be of happening if is of moving Conall."
(Reveler)
[03:38] Rea Valenta asks, "Does it matter? The choice, you will know once the fight has been had. Or... are you worrying?"
[03:45] "Because then, that'd perhaps be the cutest thing that's ever come from you, creep."

Tired eyes filter emotion, and see that perhaps he is growing anxious, or simply agitated. It was no different than what she was experiencing, or at least, that is what she believes.

Even if the circumstances are different.

Her cheeks are warm, features ever soft despite the hardships endured. A calm glance is made once more, lips parting for the words which actually held weight.

"So, what will it be?"
(Rea Valenta)
[03:51] "Is of mattering. Is not of arrogant. Is knowing that power to be of moving is within Rea. Is part of why is such a precious gem. Because of power that is within." He leans his forehead forwards, pressing it against hers.

"Is of two ways can go. Either Conall is of losing and of what Rea will be determining will be of coming to pass, or Conall is of winning, and things will be of changing. Is of last moment like this. Is wanting to see all of Rea in it.

Be of telling term. Will be of accepting no matter what. But is wanting to know."

He inclines his head just a bit. If she does not move, a velvety kiss is placed onto her lips with baited breath.

"Is wanting everything from Rea.."
(Reveler)
[04:08] "Good..."

So perhaps, he isn't as one-dimensional as she thought, and the means to underestimate always leaves her speechless. Frustration can always take its course, and fascination can be expressed in the motion of how her hands frame his own features.

A touch of lips follows after their foreheads meet, a simple smile adorning the knight's countenance once they part.

"I will take everything from you. As intended from the start." She coos. "Good, no?"
(Rea Valenta)
[04:11] His mouth curves upwards, forming a malicious smile at the parting of lips. Red creeps in onto his bronze skin, and enjoyment wears on his features as he feels her hands. Slowly he bobs his head, moving southwards while holding the knight.

"Is of sounding good. If Rea is of winning, will be taking everything from Conall. And if Conall is winning will be taking everything from Rea.. And is desiring so much.

Come then. It is time."
(Reveler)
[04:30] ** Reveler has inflicted an injury upon Rea Valenta. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[04:41] The battle begun as normal, the malefic power that Reveler commanded striking out, the flowers casting their spores and the illusionary blows connecting with the knight. Time erodes at her armor and a blindness overtakes her as spores steal away air. He avoids her whips to the best of his abilities. And at first he succeeds.

The second round he is forced back. And that is where it changes. Heavy in the air, both from their previous talk and the battle, a desire swells. An arousal comes to all senses, as if the sleep focused spores became aphrodisiac. It blooms around him, all consuming.

"Today more then anything, I want you."

The world would seem to shake due to an illusionary blow connecting to Rea, and the Dryad would draw closer, the feeling only spreading as he did. Lust blooms, and swallows Rea within. Bark-covered arms reach forwards, placed upon her chin, onto her cheeks as his lips press to hers.

It strips away inhibition, in this moment aiming to weaken resistance borne within the knight. His kiss lingers, deepens passionately before he pulls away, sinful energy continuing to fill her.

"Be mine. Do not turn from me. Do not betray me. Do not tell anyone what I am. But be mine Rea.. I love you."
(Reveler)
[05:00] Everytime, she feels that she is closer, but what good does it matter if one could not achieve victory? It is so damn frustrating, to see herself falling for the likes of something that is simply impassible.

Yet, such is the least of her worries it appears, for what washes over her is no longer subtle infatuation, no longer a desire to simply indulge with restraint. The corruption of sin eases the mind, coercing forth emotions that were perhaps far too strong to be the quiet, and feeble ones once harbored.

Another kiss finds her lips, the Azraelite helpless as her tired arms seek to curl about his neck. Her strength and will were efficiently stripped, leaving the knight bare to a pure reflection of emotion, rather than the logical path which heeded caution above all else.

Rea, had successfully been captured entirely, a moment that had not occurred since her childhood within Pleure academy.
(Rea Valenta)
[05:12] The kiss is corrosive, constantly eroding away at both his restraint and hers. And far away from the cities it was unlikely the pair would be interrupted soon. Briefly his lips pull back, hands wandering her form, starting to pry at the armor that covered the knight's body.

"Relax. I love you. I want you. Everything, something shard for you and me that will not be interrupted by anyone. You are mine."

Vines rise from the earth, aiming to bind Rea to the dirt for the time being as more and more of his attention bore on her form. His lips are brought to her neck, beginning to leave small marks on her skin, marking her as his own. There was no restraint, only ever infiltrating passion.

"I want you close. And I want you to help with everything we do.. But Rea, never forget..

I love you. So you must love me too." His mouth travels once more to her lips, the ravishing notion setting off the remainder of his actions to be had in the night.

"You are mine, Valentine."
(Reveler)
[05:17]
{LOAD GAME}

[05:37] Plates of armor only bound by leather strappings would of course eventually give way were one determined enough, and given Conall's stature he would find a way if simplicity did not fulfill the necessity.

The vines keep her still, and so she moves less than ordinary, her arms simply withdraw enough to warrant that her hands brush along his arms, fingers finding the material of his clothing to tug gingerly, her knees slightly bending with what little space they had available, comfort perhaps not going to be found given the environment.

Passion took its course, actions followed, and in time her slender frame is made visible beneath the soft material of cloth, molded slightly by her form unlike the fitted armor which had been made only to protect.

"Conall.." A simple utterance of the name between weighted breaths escapes her, the pleasurable sensation of eager marks left upon clear skin made without warning wanted for more than she'd ever imagined.

"I am yours."
(Rea Valenta)
[05:44] Catharsis and first indulgences are taken in stride. Beneath the glowing moon, love is made, sweet and corruptive. Marks are left upon her skin, but he does not leave her afterwords. In the comfort of the grass, the vines ease and he holds her tightly to his chest.

Desire is borne and borne again in unending streams as his fingers weave through her blonde curls. Slowly he begins to redress, placing the more easily adorned clothing onto Rea's body as he slowly comes to a stand. His arms wrap around her and hold her as if a precious stone in his arms.

"Let's go home."
(Reveler)
[06:00] Exhausted, and in a manner entirely unknown to her until this very night, the Valenta rests quietly whenever given the opportunity, held close within a man's arms she'd have more than certainly insulted just as much as she'd grown interested in.

To bask in the aftermath is a gift, and to be carried home certainly a blessing, for there is little left within her to last before the night was over.

The Valenta was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and if the Dryad felt fine carrying her throughout, then not a single complaint would leave her lips.
(Rea Valenta)