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Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation -> Colosseum -> Home is Where the Heart Is, part 2.
Post Info TOPIC: Home is Where the Heart Is, part 2.
beauty and grace


È una musa che ci invita

Posts: 8
Date: Jan 16, 2009
Home is Where the Heart Is, part 2.
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The Colosseum had not changed much in the time she had been absent from her city. Perhaps a few rocks had been knocked loose here, and the scents of new creatures and vampires lingered there, but for the most part, it was just the same as she had left it before departing on her sabbatical from the city. It was a structure in which she felt the most at home, both outside of it and underneath it within the chambers that had onced housed renowned gladiators. Those were before her time, surely, but she could still taste the sand being whipped up against her lips, could still hear the shouts of the damned -- those to be torn to shreds at the whim of an emperor. Aside from her own ability to picture the scene, Valentino had given that to her, once. He had painted the picture so vividly, that if you asked Nemesis to sit down and draw a gladiator, she would probably do it with expert ease.

It was Valentino that she had come home for. There had been some answers she had been searching for; he'd understood. But then, it had been three centuries all told, since she had come to him. Surely such an amount of companionship afforded his respect and understanding.

Breaking her mind from the thoughts, pale green eyes stared off into the distance, beyond the tops of the highest part of the legendary arena, places she adored sitting atop of in the middle of the night. She had pulled her hair back for the occasion, setting it in place with a clip that Valentino had once given to her, ornately decorated with ancient colors. The placement of such beautiful silk strands allowed the arch of her elegant neck to be revealed, and for a vampire, that throbbing vein at the base, to be witnessed. Having fed only an hour or so before (he had very much been a willing participant, for those who might have worried about the Sicilian angel's scruples), her person was thrumming with vibrancy and vitality. She could feel the blood humming quietly within her veins, and for some time, it gave her enough peace to just sit and wait.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In truth, Nemesis had no concept of how long she had been standing there. Gloved hands were slightly chilled, but then .. vampire, hello. She could withstand a slight chill in the air. The cloak that she wore over the disgustingly modern clothing ensemble of jeans and a silk shirt was enough to keep the rest of her presence warm. Still, just because she could tolerate a chill, did not mean that she particularly enjoyed such an endeavor. So with one final look at the night's horizon, she made her way back down towards the depths of the Colosseum, wondering where it was that her sire had gotten off to. And if there had been any tourist to sneak into the arena after dark, they would have seen the ethereal beauty floating, gliding against the backdrop of it.

Her shields were still up; she had forgotten that. It had been awhile since she had let them run out freely, since she had flexed the wings of that ancient power. So as she was making her way down towards the innermost workings of the Colosseum, Nemesis willed herself to drop those shields, searching for her beloved sire. And letting him know that his muse, his 'daughter' had finally, at last, come home.


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beauty never dies


il morte fa parte

Posts: 72
Date: Jan 19, 2009
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Like he wouldn't know that the prodigal daughter was not in Rome?  Tsk tsk.  He had eyes and ears everywhere.  He might not be as visable as he used to be, not so out in the open, but he still knew what was going on in his beloved city.  Valentino knew her first stop.  If she had learned anything, the Colosseum was a home away from home.  To find him would be simple, for this was the heart of all of what Valentino was.  How he missed the taste of such proud blood on his pallet.  The flavor of sweat, blood and tears often lingered like a ghost when he stood in the massive crumbling stadium like a statue of a prominant Caesar or Senator. 

But hadn't that been what he was, after all?

That night had found him thoughtful, standing like a lone figure under the pregnant moon, the illuminant beams casting an ethereal glow about the Adonis.  Bare torsoed, nothing more than leather pants adorning him, his body fit for a God.  Eyes were brighter than normal, having fed just moments before, the woman passed out in the shadows, languid from the tremors of sexual heat that had coursed through her body, wave after wave of such pleasure, it nearly killed her.

Now he moved.  A ghost like figure, moving with lethal grace through the arena, listing to the echos of the past, the clanking of swords, metal hitting shields, mens cries of valor and pain.  He breathed in, as if taking in every memory that what ever dead roamed offered up and put it close to his heart.

Then she moved.

He had felt her there, allowing her to just be, but when she let her shields down, he could only sigh contentedly.  Was he ever whole without his creation around?  He was not so sure.  He still wasn't so sure as to why he gave in to her.  That was a lie he told to himself for centuries.  He knew exactly why.  Because he was selfish and wanted the Principessa by his side for eternity.   She had been such a beautiful child, who grew up to be a breath taking young woman, and into a deadly vixen.  Qualities he held dear to him, proud of the way she blossomed, just like he thought she would.  Si, he missed the other five, and they would return in due time.  But Nem always came home first.

He never turned down his power, leetting it flow through her, beckoning her to him, lighting her way with that feel of sexual desire and lust, needing to be fulfilled... and would she feel that way once she was by his side...?

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beauty and grace


È una musa che ci invita

Posts: 8
Date: Jan 19, 2009
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It had never been her intent to hide her presence from his many informants throughout the city. In fact, the very fact that she had stepped back onto the ground of the Colosseum was proof enough of that. But that was neither here nor there. They both knew she would never try to hide herself from him. It would have been as though she were tearing out a piece of her own heart, if she did that.

No, as she walked freely down towards the lower areas of the arena, she felt his presence wash over her .. deep, sensual. This was a game they played often, though she wasn't entirely sure either of them ever recognized it as such. In all of the centuries that she had been with him, Nemesis had never given in to her own desires where her sire was concerned. And she was positive he had no idea she'd felt that way, too. So though she often held back when he beckoned with that desirous calling card, she still came to him every time.

Over the centuries, her power had grown and matured some. It was still nowhere near that of her savior's, but then .. it had never been a competition between them. It contained its own sultry flavor to it, complemented by the graceful air of her very presence. And that power reached out to him now, her creator. It mingled, then danced slowly against the need to be fulfilled as she came around one of the corners, stopping finally to behold him.

He was still her god. Still the perfectly sculpted adonis she had met all that time ago. The twelve year old had been in awe of his magnetism. The three hundred and twenty-eight year old vampire was more in awe that he never changed. Always so perfect. She stilled for a moment, just breathing his scent in, lids partly closed, barely revealing those pale greens.

"Mio cuore," she whispered quietly as she moved towards him. My heart. "Mio amore," came the sultry, if not cheeky words for my love, in Italian. "Mio padre." The latter finally uttered with such pure reverence as she closed the distance between them, leaning in to brush her cheek against his, softly, stilled. It wasn't the customary greeting between shepherd and sheep, master and ruled. But then, it had been a long time since she had been merely customary with him. In public, yes. But when it came down to these precious moments shared between companions who had that common bond, she often deferred to the familiar. Her neck was bared to him in that familiar pose, enough that if he had wanted to, he could have leaned in and ripped her throat out like the very beasts that were his to call. She knew he wouldn't.

But she also knew he could.


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Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation -> Colosseum -> Home is Where the Heart Is, part 2.


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