Topic: The Dark and Twisting Path

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-22 15:23 EST
She had found him. Alive and unmarried but still there was the bitter reminder of his own proposal to her. How they were to be wed and she had run from it. Not from fear but from shame.

She turned to face the mirror in her room, lifting the length of charcoal tresses. Where the old brand from when she'd been taken as a slave, the crescent moon curling about the star rested on her neck... there was now angry jagged thorns of black about that brand. Demon mark.

A wince as she dropped her hair. Would he understand? She had to tell him, confess. She had to know that he would still love her even if she had been near drained by a demon and his own energy fed into her own.

She curled into the blankets of her bed hoping for the sweet relief of sleep. Instead only to find nightmares in the thick of night.

An assumption of dreams till the thick smell of rotting, burning flesh near choked her as she swallowed down the scent. A searing pain lancing across her side. Jagged lines that clawed like poison into her flesh... and a slow lapping course of a razor sharp tongue into that gaping wound cut out of her flesh. Lapping at her blood like kitten would at milk.

She woke from the nightmare hoping to free herself from it but only to find it was not nightmare at all. She screamed but nothing came out and the demon smiled at her with jagged teeth as his clawed hand curled intimately at her thigh. He remembered the gypsy well.

"Christian wants you back. We want you back, little witch."

Gravel and metal was the demon's voice leaving her to shudder. His fingers drifted where they should not and she trembled, claimed in his spell. Unable to move. To fight off his advances. She found her voice only because it was allowed.

"I am not his..."
"Indeed, but you are bound to us now... demon energy has leaked through your own magic has it not? Finding that you are a pretty prize... one who can bring life as much as death."

A growl at her throat lingered in an echo of the demons own growl of pleasure as he lapped at the bleeding, gaping wound of her belly. Tongue like a knife to cut her deeper.

Her fingers outstretched then, a twitch of energy allowed as she was freed a bit from his claim on her soul. It was enough. She knew it only would be a matter of time before they hunted her again.

Nails raked his flesh and drew jagged lines as her energy poured through her palms like dark fire and poison rivers. The demon screamed as if burned and withdrew from her. His rough hand slapped her across the face even as she struck out with her magic.

A whisper of words, a curse on her tongue woven and weaved a dangerous pattern as the peridot shade of her aura and magic was tainted all the more with blotches of onyx. The price of using the darker side of her spirit.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as that energy executed the demon. Tore out his eyes, severed his head from shoulders. Clawed out his heart. His blood coated her like crimson paint.

When it was done she sank to her knees, fingers covering that wound at her belly as she sent a silent request for Bey to find Kusinage. The truth would be revealed soon enough as blood spilled a fresh design on the floor,... the question lied in her mind like a sickness as she slipped into the dark despair of unconsciousness. How could he love her now?

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-02-23 10:04 EST
Tonight he didn't sleep.

Rona. He never thought after several years of solitude that when he kissed a woman again it would be her. Perhaps it was not so strange that they reconnected. Perhaps it was for a reason.

With Mr. Chewy asleep and his home still not fully furnished, there was still an empty air to his home. With company, with lovers, came the clutter of belongings mixing and organizing themselves in respect to one another. Here was the evidence of a single person whose lifestyle was only influenced by a rather large rabbit. He was comforted by the physical remarks left behind by her. The ribbons, the gypsy items he might never understand-- the papers he couldn't read, the lingering smell that infected clothes and air like incense. It was overpowering if one was quiet enough to feel it.

On the porch, why was he feeling it now? She wasn't there, she hadn't even visited this new established home of his. Was it possible some part of her lingered on the jacket? Did his mind just flood him with that impression because he was thinking of her curled up at his side. Bey certainly seemed to agree. Wait, Bey? The crowd was there, just at a branch overhanging near the porch. Black, shiny, surreal. It's warning, it's call he go to Rona fierce and definite. Bey had also brought the means to speed his stride. Her horse, Shadow Veil.

The horse had come up at a slow, fearful walk. He'd known Rona's ride for years and it was only coming out of his thoughts that he realized Shadow Veil was not an absent thought of the past but an actual presence. He got to his feet, taking her by the reins, eyebrows lowered.

"What are you doing here? Rona would never..." The horse's head swerved with a tug against his hands to tell him that the ominous feeling was valid. It was time to go.

He ran inside, grabbing the taught essentials. A small bag of food. A knife strapped behind his back. Was Rona attacked or kidnapped or had she fallen ill somewhere? He took what little things he had to help her if it was that maybe she'd fallen somewhere. And water. Then he ran outside, not locking his door behind him, and quickly mounted Bey.

He didn't have to dig in his heels for the two of them to get going. His hands rested on the horn of the saddle, behaving there as Bey directed the way. His mind went over the conversation they had had, trying to figure if she had said something offhand that would account for this. It was so early in the morning that the world seemed oblivious that anything was wrong at all. It was just him and Bey.

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-23 19:52 EST
She managed to stumble to her feet, swaying woozy as the poison of the demon's licking tongue trailed through her body. She was sick with it.

Stumbling to the basin, the contents of her stomach were released. Grunting as the tears filled her eyes.

This was how it was going to end? With her coated in demon blood and her own blood... after she had finally found him.

But then look at her now. Who could love someone that had done this. Murdered a demon with a mere thought and a twisting of words. A tap of ley lines.

She screamed then... a sound of anger and fear and pain so easily lost in the banter and music of the dock bar below her room.

She collapsed to hands and knees, indifferent to the blood that soaked in her skirts.

This was how it would end...bittersweet darkness and she gave in to that sweet release of unconsciousness.

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-02-23 22:16 EST
It seemed that years had passed.

When she woke up she wasn't in her room. It didn't sound like the docks. The bed was tall, the sheets clean and smelling of the soap they had been scrubbed with. White sheets and a soft blue feather comforter. There were two windows in the room, one of them was cracked. The hardwood floor was shiny, spotless but without feeling sterile. It was midday.

She was wrapped expertly with bandages. There was a glass of water on a stand by the bed. That's all that was in the room-- the bed, the nightstand and the glass of water beside it. Quiet sounds from outside were enough that the world was there, though muted.

A soft brushing noise. At the doorway a furry creature appeared near the threshold. A large rabbit-- only half indifferent to her, approaching with curiosity at the creature now stirring in the home.

The sound of a door, the front door, opening and gently closing. Was it possible that she could recognize still the pattern of behavior, the way the man moved and carried himself at home? Was it familiar, was it a recollection of how things were to be as they were now?

After he'd found her, he moved swiftly. He took her to Dr. Figmund Sroid, who helped him care for her as best as he could understand it. Help give him whatever they guessed could alleviate her symptoms. Still, she'd slept. Dr. Sroid told him that she lost a remarkable amount of blood, and that that was a great worry. That her body needed a great amount of rest to even have the hope of recovery. It was with that situation that he immediately found a suitable bed and nightstand, so that he might take care of her in his own quarters. Was he selfish... was he wrong to think that if she were to die, it was better that she do it near him?

He was shrugging off his coat. From the doorway she could see to the entrance room where he stood, taking off his coat and walking into the kitchen. After the sound of several things being relocated, he appeared in the doorway. He wasn't looking at her, he wasn't expecting her to be awake.

He looked like Hell.

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-24 06:25 EST
Her body had felt like it was on fire. A writhing flame as her body had fought off those demon toxins that poisoned her blood. Maybe it was simply the demon energy in her that had fought it. She'd never know.

The first awareness when conscious was pain. Blistering pain within... and a stiffness of limbs that hadn't been used it what felt like days... months. Perhaps years.

Head turned to withdraw from sweat fevered locks of charcoal. She noticed the ribbons were gone. Leaving her vulnerable and exposed. The thought left her shuddering and grimacing in pain. A slight sound moved through her senses. Quiet and near foreign to her.

Those night emeralds snapped open as a gasping breath was drawn in. So this was what it was like to live again. Alive. The thought relieved her even as she was wary of where she had ended up. Then a blink, was she hallucinating or was that a rabbit?

A mumble of words in Romanian as she took in her surroundings. The glass of water, the stand...the bed. How did she get here? She didn't remember...

The door opened then and she froze, easing back down on pillows and playing off that she was still asleep as those dark eyes watched from their hooded frame of lashes. Watching the approach of Kidnapper or one who had saved her.

When she saw him the pain became terrible. A horrible wrenching pain, but this time ... the pain of the heart. She ached to see him looking so horrible. He should never have to look like that. Tears slipped down her cheeks, voice husky and ragged from lack of use. Near breathless.

"Kusinage..."

How could there be so many emotions in one word? In one name? Love. Sorrow. Pain. And Fear that one might turn away after they had seen the monster she had become...

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-02-24 09:18 EST
The day was a long one, but that's how he liked his days. He woke up at six in the morning to take care of Maranya's horses. The doctor allowed him several days off to take care of her. She'd been sleeping two days, breathing so quietly he thought too hard of a breeze could stop it. When he walked in the room he thought she'd been asleep and he sat on the edge of the bed. When she spoke it nearly caused him to fall to the floor.

"Rona?"

He'd hoped what the doctor gave him would alleviate the poison. They had just been guessing, shooting in the dart for what to give her. When he saw her feverish sweat and the agony, he realized that they hadn't done enough and perhaps, perhaps, there wasn't any more that could be done.

"What do you need me to do?"

Kusinage was torn between worlds. His experience with life made him an atheist. Afterall, he'd been taught that the utmost importance in life was to die for a cause, because life was what it was when you were alive. There was no afterlife, no Heaven to hold him forever and ever and ever. Now was the only time he had to establish himself. His forever was now. The concept of demons implied a greater scope of existence than what he'd known. He grasped at the idea of it, but reconciled himself by considering them a strange, immortal and magical breed. What then? Good and evil were boiled down to notions relative to each person and while he could say certain things felt like sins, he could not claim that they were absolute sins which applied to everyone. Thoughts like this had been on the forefront-- it was only a couple days ago that he had spoken briefly to Tara about her temple.

So what was the context now?

The question loomed like a giant and the only answer he held for it was that he would do the best he could for Rona. If she could be saved, he would ensure it. There was no other choice when it came to the woman he loved.

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-24 12:39 EST
She turned to him, gently and slowly in order to not draw forth a greater bit of pain. The inquiry of what was needed had her laughing softly as she pressed her fevered brow against his thigh. Closing her eyes.

"Nethin'... just stay. Please."

A whisper. So tired. Such a struggle she had been through in order to save herself from that prison and torture again. Those night emerald eyes lifted to him, blinded with tears that threatened to fall.

"You saw, yana... it be ne excuse but it be why... I ran... though' you would ne love me... if you knew... what had become of me..."

Somber, those words were broken, rasping between gasps of pain and the tearful agony of the awareness that easily could flee. He had the free chance to leave her, condemn her and forsake her after he saw what she had become. Why did he remain still?

Love certainly, but was it enough. Fingers curled into the sheets as she closed her eyes, cheek pressing into his lap as she rested there quietly.

"Had te give you the chance to escape... te be free of what I had become. Was terrified... of what would happen once you saw."

She remembered the blood, the dismembered body of the demon... her covered in it and in her own blood. Of course he had seen it all when he had come. There was a part of her that was relieved there was no dark secret between them now... relief in knowing that perhaps he might understand now why she fled after their engagement and after that brutal attack by the Demon. Never had she meant for it to be so... but she feared drawing him into her world, which anymore held so much darkness.

But still... he had come back... those eyes opened and she looked to him and wondered...

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-02-25 11:34 EST
She looked to be in too much pain for her motion to cuddle with him. He reached down, stroking her dark hair, gently at the tips, working his way up to the base of her hair. Dark eyes set low as he studied her when he listened. When she had said her previous few words he smiled, slowly, but it faded gradually.

"Rona, I do not know what to make of it."

Did she have any answers? With so gruesome a scene, was she able to do to him what she had done to the demon? Certainly she hadn't any animosity for him but the truth of a relationship was that there would be anger and frustration. If there was? Was he to be similarly dispatched?

"Rest, it is still too much for you."

It was better they not heavily discuss it this day. Just moving over to have her head against his leg had caused her to make a face of pain. There was no sense in upsetting her about these matters and talking them out. She was alive. That meant there was time for these discussions to happen as they rightfully should.

"You must be hungry."

Wasn't she? He'd only been able to convince her resting, worn out body to take in some water. Now that she was truly awake, did she crave anything at all?

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-25 12:36 EST
His words cut through her far worse then the pain her body was in. A rough shake of head as she sat up, those night emerald eyes fiercely intense, seeming to glow with peridot gleam and black fire in pupils.

A curling of hands into fists. "I was captured... and tortured... and... changed... when I escaped they hunted me. He was going te kill me."

He had to understand. A close of eyes as palms rubbed over her face. A whisper as shoulders slumped.

"I would neve hurt you... Kusinage... you have te believe me."

Lips twisted in a frown. It was just as Christian had whispered of when he tortured her. That she would be feared and all she knew would be changed... all that she loved would turn from her. A strangled sound came out of her as she shook her head.

"Ne... not hungry. Not now."

Even the idea of food made her stomach clench and twist. Head bowed as she stared at her hands as they twisted in her lap. Monster. Freak. These were the things she had become. If she could have read his mind she would not blame him for his concerns. The worst nightmares ever to come to life. Rona was the one that never would hurt a fly, always searching for the next option. Defeated that whisper came, soft and broken.

"Help me."

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-02-27 12:55 EST
There was so much she was going through that he didn't understand, that he was sort of grasping at with vague and slippery hands. With her curled and asking for help, he could not deny her. The ingrained instinct to look after the people close to him-- nevermind that for so many years they were always the clients he was bodyguard to. She'd been that, and at some base of their relationship he'd always appeal to that bodyguard instinct for her.

"Rona, please, rest and get better." The more upset she got the more he imagined the delicate lines of muscle in her stomach in their fresh bonds of healing breaking and bleeding again. That she could bleed out on his bed just from emotional distress alone.

"There is plenty of time," at least, he thought there was. He moved to adjust the pillows around her, to make her more comfortable. The thumb of his hand smoothed over her cheek to reassure her. Eyebrows arched upward and he looked towards the door, "Get some sleep."

He rose up from the bed and went to the door. He pulled on his jacket and slipped his shoes back on. Once outside, he looked down the road. What he needed to do was some research. What he needed was a library. And someone else who could tell him what the books were saying. Hands dug deep in his pockets, feeling the weight of the money he'd managed to save. They say anything is possible with a little coin.

Rona Deykar

Date: 2009-02-28 06:33 EST
Her eyes closed, wary and wild with the panic of it but his calmness was something that ever would get through to the gypsy.

Hand smoothed along her her face to rub away the tears, the faintest smile upon lips with the simple touch along cheek.

Raw and exposed as she watched him leave she couldn't help but loathe what she was. He couldn't love her like she was now. Demon killer. Ruined from the torture of Christian's hands. If not for Ariahn... well who know what might have happened.

She listened to his words. It was best to rest. To sleep and heal. The day had drawn out so much on her. Before the darkness of exhaustion claimed her mind she could only dwell on the notion that she had to find away to lose near everything she was... in order to keep a hold of everything she wanted...

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-05 21:14 EST
The road was a long and twisting path and he wasn't sure where he was suppose to be going.

He had hung around the marketplace hours and hours until he had heard about it. Seen someone with a relic that looked relevant. The book she carried was sewn with so many charms and marks that it had a great deal to do with the extraordinary. He approached her with a lot of apprehension and asked her about the book.

"This book?" she said, surprised he was pointing her out and looking awkward that he had.

"Yes, you see I need a library. A library full of unusual information?"

She hesitated, then seeing that his eyes were pleading, instructed that he go along a certain road, take a certain turn or two, and it would be there, "Are you sure you want to go there? What are you looking for?"

He blinked at her and said, softly like he were afraid she'd think him crazy, "I need to know about demons. As much as I can."

"Oh," she nodded curtly, "then that is the library you should go to."

Now he had been taking this path and he was losing the metal of his confidence the more steps he took. What could he do to help Rona? What was she, really? Was it just better that he stay ignorant of the gravity of the situation? So often he had learned that the more he knew about someone the more ultimately disappointing they became. What if this really did alter what Rona was to him?

When he stopped infront of the library, he became all the more certain that whatever the books had to say that Rona was who she was, and no scribbling in the books could change that he loved her. He swallowed hard and opened the door.

"Hello?"

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-06 19:53 EST
The mumur and beckon a calling out of welcome like a question and greeting had her lifting her eyes from the busy work of alphabetizing and categorizing of the books of the library of Dark Lore.

A hand smoothed the black and white coils of hair from her face as she readjusted the clip that held her hair and pulled it back.

Those Oil slick eyes with their marking of strange colors drifted over the library before she was heading towards the expected sound of greeting and the entrance to the library.

A light smile touched her lips, tempering the razorblade nature of its sharp angles once seeing the agitated state of the man that had entered the library.

"Good evening, is there something I can help you with?"

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-09 12:13 EST
When he heard her, saw her, it seemed he corrected his demeanor to one with greater purpose. That he returned to a polite calm with eased shoulders and a chin up.

"I am looking for information," he felt like he needed to let her know he was a valid customer. He wanted to impress upon her that he wasn't there to pull a trick for laughs when he added, "but I'm not so good at reading."

Actually, he was horrible at it. Beyond the staple words that bars and restaurants used, there was very little he could decipher on his own. He had tried several times to learn but learning that sort of thing had been so much easier to do in his youth. These days, he was satisfied at making small, embarrassed confessions to his shortcoming.

"I want to know about demons. I want to know everything."

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-10 20:59 EST
His words caught her off guard. Surely he did not seem the sort for keeping the company of demons. Oil slick depths slitted as those strange colors played a dangerous dance in dark pools that had become thin rivers of sight.

"You are not planning on summoning one I pray."

A murmur that was smoke and sin as she looked to the young man, seeing more then what common sight would see. No there were no dark smudges upon his spirit. Thankfully.

"There is a lifetime of information on demons, what exactly is it that you are looking for?"

She watched him with thoughtful consideration. Arms folded across her chest as the bone hilt of hip took to leaning against one of the book shelves.

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-12 21:12 EST
"Summoning? No."

The man looked torn. That he wanted to tell her of his situation, but also that his private nature wanted to reveal to her as little of himself as possible. Kusinage was a man that took years to get to know anything about. He had never been nicknamed gabby. Ever.

She, however, looked as though nothing was all that surprising. He thought he could have told her that vampires were ravaging his house and she wouldn't have blinked painfully at all. What was the use in being discrete? Rona wasn't well, at home and waiting on him.

"I have a friend," he paused, his eyes going to the ground and his eyebrows knit, "a lover who... seems to be infected by demons. I do not understand."

Irises, such a dark brown it was hard to tell the distinction from the pupil, lifted back up as his eyes roamed the books, "and I look for it here. I do not know what it means that she is involved with them."

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-13 20:49 EST
"Infected? By Demons. Hmm." Those Oil Slick depths shifted, colors changing in their depths as if a dark mirage had found a crystal to reflect glimmers of the rainbow within the dark depths.

"Well if she was infected per se... she wouldn't be consorting with them. "

Lips pursed thoughtfully as brow dipped in consideration. It'd be easy to see the woman to know what she was dealing with. To know what books to offer... or just in general to handle it all herself.

Hand shoved through the twisting coils of soot and snow as she frowned lightly.

"If she was infected it means that she's something they want to be rid of... or change over to their side. To control her. Mostly those that work in demonology summon demons, they exchange favors and thus gain curses. Dark smudges you might say on one's spirit. They don't get infected."

A pause as she nudged her form away from the book shelf.

"Take me to her."

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-16 20:58 EST
At the thought of bringing a stranger to Rona, on her beside, ill as she was, made him pause a great deal. After all, what if this angered Rona? What if she foresake him for meddling? He had never meddled before. Infact, he had always been passive, always allowed her to do exactly as she was want with little or no consequence from him. Now? It felt like he'd taken up the reins.

"She isn't well. It isn't far from here."

The woman didn't look like she was afraid of him, or afraid to travel with him. Could it be that the woman who sold books on these oddities was one herself? It would have made very little difference to him except to understand, perhaps, her ease at traveling with a stranger. Perhaps he had a demeanor which was unthreatening and behaved in such a way that she felt sympathetic.

"My name is Tag. She is in my home." With that small introduction, even if it was a repeated one, made his connection to her feel less awkward and more purposeful.

It was walking down the path of things, now the moon high-bellied in the sky that he lead her to his home. Where the windows were calm and it was clear that the woman he tended to wasn't well.

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-17 17:43 EST
She watched his hesitation and then the gradual acceptance before she saw that hidden need, the touch of desparation. Brow creased briefly as she nodded lightly. Emotions she could not read but expressions such as his painted a thousand pictures.

The man loved this woman of his.

Simple as that. Sigh exhaled a hand shoved through her hair, mussing through bone fetishes and silver trinkets adorning her wild mane.

"It is a pleasure. I am Saga de Deso."

A bow of head in greeting as teeth were bared in that razorblade cut of a smile.

"And you have nothing to worry about, I am no demon... though I have dealt with them. I'll be able to tell if your woman be one herself...or merely... troubled by them."

On their way then she was a silent sinuous creature behind him. All dark movements and smooth enchantment. Prowling in the shadows of his wake.

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-19 09:38 EST
The house is one story. There is a porch in the face of which is only about a foot off the ground. Perhaps the reason why there was no railing. Nothing was decadent, just well looked after. The wood looked scrubbed and repainted, the colors a soft consideration of spring. The porch was where two sets of his shoes were, work shoes that looks like the sole wanted to peel off the bottom. There were trimmed bushes and some small, newly painted things. It looked like a new home for someone with a new beginning. At night, even at night, it was not foreboding.

The way he angled his body when he opened the door spoke of a certain worry. And there it was. A large rabbit at his feet wiggling his nose and poking his head as much as he could out the doorway. He used the side of his foot to shove the rabbit back in a bit before he took off his shoes, picked up the furry thing, and signaled for Saga with a nod of his head towards one of the doors.

"I'll light some candles. I'm sorry it's so dark. I'm sure Rona is resting."

Once the door was shut behind her he set the rabbit down and went, maybe fumbling for a place here and there, to light several candles so that she could see her way around. There wasn't any furniture she had to navigate. Outside of the kitchen and bedroom there were scrubbed floors, freshly painted but bare walls. He looked old and tired in this light.

When he situated himself, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack, he went to the threshold of her room, looking down at her then turning so that Saga may enter. This was one way to find answers.

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-20 10:18 EST
She moved around the room with the sinuous grace that near could seem serpentine or feline. Even if there had been furniture it seemed the woman would be able to navigate with ease.

Candlelight for a happy little cottage. It was different from what she was used to. Nostalgia twisted her spirit as she shut her eyes against it.

She moved with a trace of respect to the man to calm his noticeable nerves when the room to the sick woman was given direction she stepped over the threshold. Breathing in the woman's presence as she closed her eyes.

A soft frown twisted lips better made for razorblade smiles. The gypsy in the bed was unconscious again but alive.

She turned to look over her shoulder to the quiet man. Voice hushed to near tender whispers.

"She is not a demon... but her gift has been altered. It is killing her slowly. The magic within her has become a war and she in the center of it, struggling to find harmony."

Fingers touched to her temple, running lightly over those ancient markings.

"I can cease the war within... but it will come with a price for her. All things ... for a price."

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-22 00:53 EST
"Do it." Said in a way that was almost too quick for a man like him. For a man that seemed to often way his words and now a phrase just burst from him.

"I am fairly sure she'd want it-- and if not, I am fine with being responsible for it. She just can't go on like this. What is the price?"

Had he taken her too literally? Was it that there would now be a large debt he owed Saga that he would send most of his money toward paying off? Or was the price something Rona would pay for, something not fiscal but that other, that confusing other. How was it Saga, the librarian, was also skilled in these things? He did not have this straying attention to press her for details so he hung onto the discussion of Rona's emancipation from the smudge on her spirit.

Saga de Deso

Date: 2009-03-22 10:15 EST
"Her magic is tainted. Causing those dark smudges on her soul. Slowly it will kill her."

She knelt beside the woman's bed, silver adorned fingers extended to smooth a sweat damp brow.

Those oil slick eyes shifted to Tag, lips pursed as she exhaled silently.

"The price. She will be void of her powers. Her gift. That which she is. Save for what is in her blood as a gypsy, she will be all but human."

Those night emerald eyes had opened then staring up at the strange woman before her, the gypsy shifting a gaze to her silent guardian. A moment of acceptance.

It seemed enough to the witch. One hand rested on the gypsy's brow the other at her heart.

There was no dark swirling energy. No sparks of magic visibly as Saga silently whispered. Those words inaudible.

The only communication of exchange was the outspread of irises to spill, devouring the white of Saga's eyes briefly. The shaky stand to feet even as the gypsy in the bed seemed to collapse into a peaceful slumber.

If Tag did check he'd seen that wound on the gypsy's abdomen had healed. Nothing more then a smooth scar.

"It is done... I will show myself out. She will be awake soon."

She left before there were options of giving thanks. Moments of ill thoughts, ill words, and ill deeds. It was time to be rid of that demonic curse...

Tag Sentry

Date: 2009-03-23 17:05 EST
He steadily watched her move over to Rona and when Rona looked at him he smiled.

The thing about Tag was his smiles tended to be faraway, like they were distracted or that something was privately nagging at him. On rare occasion he flashed his teeth. It was as though there was something guarded to it, hesitant and formal. It was how he always smiled, unless he was smiling for Rona. Then it was broad, full and happy. He only felt like that without her when he'd been helping the orphans and then it had been bittersweet when they left the home to their new families to love and grow with. Now it was only for Rona. Where he significantly brightened in the most subtle way. He did not have to kiss her or hold her, only smile to convey their intimacy.

He had turned to tell Saga thanks but she was gone, like a ghost with the door shutting quietly behind. He removed his shoes at the door and moved to lay at the other side of the bed so that he could shift into place behind her. One arm beneath her neck as a pillow with the other around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek and fell asleep there, at her side.