Topic: The Untamed Call

Wandering Touch

Date: 2010-05-22 14:10 EST
The dreams infiltrated her senses, woke her in the middle of the night as she took in a shaky breath. Thankfully the room was empty as her eyes glittered like bright jewels in the dark of the room. Quicksilver blue eyes rather then the normal serene blue.

"Wolf."

A quiet breath of the word, called like a summons as the dreams began to finally dissipate from her thoughts but the bond did not. She had led herself to meaningless distraction to take her mind off the fact that the bond between herself and the Slaver had not been severed. That it still remained.

In her head she could feel, sense, even hear that low gutteral growl that stirred something wild and untamed within her.

Before the dawn broke she dressed silently and swiftly, stealing out into the night to do the least unexpected thing. She went to find the Wolf.

Wandering Touch

Date: 2010-06-16 21:50 EST
A hand pushed and moved through the albino-white curls as she near dropped to her knees in defeat in the booth he left her alone in. He hadn't quite left her. He couldn't. He wouldn't. She knew he didn't want to. Could feel it in her soul.

She shuddered when she closed her eyes and felt the muzzle of a gun pressed against her skull.

The imprint of the mind share, the memories. Proof that neither was pure....so far from it. Perhaps the Slaver...her Wolf more so.....but still Jessamyn understood through that addiction, through that claim.

He was hers. She was his.

It was the way it worked.

Of the four that had felt her Touch, the Wolf was the one that had bonded and fed into that power and addiction of her touch the fastest.

Truth be told she had fell into it just as swift.

She needed to see him again.

Needed to see him without interruption.

She needed to see him, have him, know him alone...

No matter the consequence.

Wandering Touch

Date: 2010-06-20 19:13 EST
The change had come, crawling like hunger in the soft of her belly as she stirred restlessly. The Touch was becoming a rampant beast with a mind of its own anymore. Ever since the contact with the Wolf. His touch, the taste of his mouth on hers. It had altered her, fed her as much as drained her. Still she craved more.

Jamo, Kali, Jason, and the Wolf. A close of eyes and she could feel them all. Some more prominent then others.

It didn't matter, Jessamyn still felt like it wasn't enough to sate the nature of what she had become since the Soul Project.

More then ever she wanted to speak the names that had been given to them all when the Project had changed them.

It was forbidden though. She knew that well. Just as she knew she needed a change. Something different.

The combs were pulled from the albino strands, the curls smoothed out and done into a vision of something more savage and wild.

Blue moon born eyes were untamed, she couldn't help but feel restless.

You need to feed...

She closed her eyes as her fingers touched to her temples.

Don't call it that, it sounds vulgar and violent and wrong. But you do...if you expect to sustain and control it....it must be fed.

A sound of frustration tore from her lips and she smothered a scream as her body shook with the emotion. Trembling with that suffocated scream.

The pale ivory of her clothes was discarded, the shining fabric slipping away from moon pale skin.

It felt good on her skin when the new dress was pulled on. It soothed her and for the moment at least....tempered the hunger within.

http://theworldsbestever.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/jessica-stam.jpg

Wandering Touch

Date: 2010-06-25 21:59 EST
The touch know could feel herself captivated in the Sandman's grasping claim. The solace of the dark hours and the interactions with the Slaver she claimed as Wolf had left her confused and wounded in the way that one cursed with skin hunger would be. Jessamyn had suffered with it for as long as she had been changed, the skin hunger and the emotional feeding had been nothing more then straining upon her spirit and body.

She had found comfort in Kalinda in the night to quiet her restless spirit but she found that sometimes even her spirit could not stray from its imprint and the bond that she had been bound and twisted into through her contact with Jamo and the visions he brought to her upon the first touch.

The Sandman's touch was on her soul that night when she slept like the dead in Kalinda's bed, but even in that dream scape she could smell the salt in the air, the hot sand beneath her feet and the gentle ocean waves lapping at her ankles. Jessa saw him as she had before, devastated and alone after the loss of his wife and she felt that agony as much as if it was her own.

She remembered vividly the first touch they had shared and how she had gone to him and saw in his mind that beach when the moment became so intimate and consuming between them. In that moment Jessa had no other choice or desire to do anything more then love Jamo.

His touch still lingered with her, the emotional connection she felt to him like he had ever been a part of her still remained even when he seemed so lost to her and the loss was something she felt deep within. It was a pain and a loss she could hardly stand and the misery encompassed her soul as she curled back against Kalinda even as in her dreams, as it had been so many nights before she whispered out his name as if a silent beckon for his return.

Yet still it never seemed enough, he seemed so distant to her? far more distant then the Wolf, and that made all the difference to her spirit.