Red Psalm

[Vicious]

Closed to melancor, Pm if interested

Vengance is a dish best served cold, and never served by another's hand. That was why there was a smile on her face. Her ghost like skin spotted with the blackest of crimson life. The choir sang on, echoing through the halls like the music in a mob movie. However there would be no savior for these men and women, only the other side.

Silent drops fell from her blades as she caught her breath, it was not so easy to carve through a wall of five men, even if they were unprepared. The metal of her boots clicked on the ancient tiles as her eyes glanced to and fro for anyone else. Twas only a bit past two in the morning, so not many were about, but in times like this it was expected that there would be guards.

Bloody 'ell...would have figured there would have been at least....Oi.

It was such as things were, the moment you think of things, she turned a corner, right into a whole unit of armed warriors.

“uh...I take it this isn't the way to the bleedin' crapper is it?” It was more out of hope then anything.

There was a long moment of silence as they blinked at her, their cognitive abilities short before they saw the blood on her shirt and skin. Glancing one last time as she began skidding on the floor, headed back the way she came. A good score of armored warriors came clashing behind her, their armor sounding like a crashing wave behind her.

Fuck me...

-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@-<-@

what ever it was that helped her, the bloodied ice elf had made it out and to the assigned safe house for the mission. Vicious's breath was ragged from the long run in the blizzard like conditions outside. Granted it was only her genetics that saved her from freezing to death in those below zero temperatures of the Salvarian nights.

The fire was roaring and the lights were on as her hand pressed the door open. To turn back and not enter or to continue onward into what could be an ambush. Her stuff was in the nearest room, already packed and ready to go. She slid her boots off at the door before entering, her bare feet making almost nay a sound as she crossed the room, her blades drawn and at the ready.

The chair that blocked the fire from her squeaked, clearly her guest had been waiting for her.

[Melancor]

Salvar, such a lovely place to meander about, through the woods over the white where the scarlet vile human liquid shows the most clear. Melancor shook as the thought of defiling his hands with mortal blood again crossed his mind. Getting filthy was just an inconvenience, after all, he would have fun. Three tick trunks crackled before him as a dim, yet warm, orange fiend went about crawling over their rustic surfaces. Someone had been candid enough to fetch them from the woods outside to accommodate some future guests.

Melancor found it unfitting to seat before a flame, though the cold did not bother him at all, he wondered about his companion. Melancor did not know much about this person, other than it was a ‘she’ and was not so well trusted to carry out the errands. Alas, Melancor was here for back up. His body sunk in the large chair as he thought of his position. Damn it. His forehead frowned and his front teeth bit on his lower lip.
Sheesh, being bossed around by humans, but what will we do, we are hosts in a house of our own creation.

You know, I’ve never heard you complain before.

Bitch.

Neletia had been whispering crap all day from inside the ring. What she said was true non the less. Salvar, such a pretty place, yet it’s volume falls heavy with pestering fanatics. Worst offense? Pray in the dark to false gods while the real ones walk amongst them. But it was all good, for he would take back his credo by force or consent. Though tonight, it was only passing sweet judgment upon the gullible souls, the money he would get was just a little bonus. Already tasting what you have not even smelled?

“That reminds me,” answered Melancor, now speaking in his stoic tone, “will she be one of them?”

You will find soon enough.

The door creaked, and the thudding naked steps pressed the floor.

“It was about time you showed up,” Slowly Melancor recovered from the comfort of his chair. There, before the door stood a woman, pale as snow, and with a vicious look mounted upon her face. Pink hair sprouted from her shrewd head, a blade hanged from her hand, still holding the crimson life and the vile pulp. “You’ve been playing around.”

[Vicious]

Her heart had jumped, even though it got mixed when she laid eyes upon the, well, rather handsome male that stood before her. The blade in her hand whipped up, leveling with his throat, even though they were a good yard apart.

“Who the bloody fuck are you?” She hissed.

With the outmost serenity that the situation required, his eyebrows lowered from his forehead, and a pitting smile was carved in his face, an expression that by other means must have seen as one of relief. His arm was drawn to his back holding vertical to his body, the other rose, and softly pressed its finger upon the sharp blade. he began toying with it, vainly moving it to and fro as he spoke.

"Ahhhh, I would have expected our common employer to be more professional when it came to issues like these, particularly when it comes to a lady such as yourself. Although unfortunate It seems I have to introduce myself, let alone of any written formalities. My name is Melancor, it appears I will be your new partner, though don't fret, I believe I’ll enjoy myself.

a dark sneer grew upon her face as she let the blade fall, but not her guard. There had been mention of such “Insurance” by Teric when she had taken on this job. It was just smack in the face that whoever it was figured that she was somehow incapable of killing six plus none combatants.

A growl escaped her lips as she stepped back, sliding her feet back into her boots as she kept her eyes in a stark glare at this arrogant man. Then again, most of this was some sort of primitive association of just who the alpha was between them. Here we had the just over five and a half foot tall ice elf and the nearly foot taller godling vying for dominance over the other. Clearly Melancor was already winning by angering her.

“So Melancor, was it?” she didn't pause for answer,” How am I expected to believe you? And why shouldn't I just turn you inside out and throw your ass out into the snow?”

[Melancor]

Melancor places his hand upon the other, swiftly removing the leather gloves that pretended to interrupt his touch. He crossing his arms still holding the pain in his hand.

“As I didn’t expect a document to be written before hand my introduction I didn’t believe I would need some sort of fancy paper, so, mind you…”
Melancor paused as his left hand began rubbing his face, trying to wipe away the effects of sleep. Having to make his way through so much snow to get his way in here had not been easy, even if he liked the snow it was some bothersome inconvenience. Again his hand reached for the safety of his arm, and so he resumed.

“… I don’t think you would expect one either anyways. They sent me here to aid “some girl” kill a bunch of priests, as all these mortal quarrels, and the silly fates have decided, the war or whatever is going around these places. Honestly I am here for my own accord, killing believers of a false faith with their own blood Is as much as a pleasure as is visiting Salvar. I hope providing our common mission will avail your doubts. In any case…”

Melancor’s foot stopped upon the solid ground, and from this place a sleek blade of sharp yet solid ice sprouted from the miniscule cracks of the dark bricks, breaking some off their position and carrying with it the permafrost and mud from the cold land. It broke from the floor and violently rose up before him, perpendicular to his face, and menacingly swinging, taunting to be shot against the woman.

“… It would be hard for an Ice Elf to turn me inside out, don’t you think?” the blade lowered to just the center of his belly, “That reminds me, I have not yet asked your name”. His face loosened of his grim expression, and his eyebrows lowered as he waited for the answer.

[Vicious]

His display was flashy at least, though to someone who had grown up around cryomancers, it really wasn't all that grandiose. With a labored sigh of being unimpressed, Vicious sheathed her blade.

“It's Vicious.” Her words were sour as she stepped past him, “and you would have to give my your back sometime love.”

As if it where some indirect tug-o-war Melancor allowed for the long blade of ice to fall into the floor where it shattered into gleaning crystals with a grave sound. Fear did not run in his eyes, but so did a severe glance of scrutiny. His legs recalled three steps and he promptly found his way into a long chair. His arms rose again to cross before his chest, his legs followed in a similar manner.

“A quarrel of tongues is fun once in a while, though this is now just plain boring,” Melancor closed his eyes as he yawned, “I did not come here to injure a petty ice elf, nor do I feel the necessity to dirty my hands with your blood. I’ve come for that of the misguided, not the impious .”

A growl grew from within her as she made her way past him, the door to her room slamming shut as if she were trying to break the hinges. Already she had botched the first attempt, now she would have to deal with a partner that would just as likely try to cut her throat and take it all.

“Fuck this bloody day...”

[Melancor]

Melancor inserted the key through the small orifice of the front door. He had been out since morning, taking a walk through town, searching for something… anything. Perhaps a frivolous act to stare at, or maybe a fancy charm to buy. In vain he crossed the streets of the town from east to west, passed the plaza and the market. The sun had already reached it’s apex in the sky, and Melancor wasn’t up to walking through a boring pit of humans any more, specially on an empty stomach.

*klutch-klutch* Open.

The door slid slowly inside the joint as Melancor rubbed some dirt off his shirt. Taking the key out he pushed it back and closed with another klutch. The room was still silent. The sun was yet to have risen when he had left this morning, the blue hue had already occupied the streets. He had not seen or heard Vicious, the girl must have went out earlier than him.
“I guess she is still out then.” Melancor murmured to himself as he moved into the kitchen to look for something to eat.


The countains where still closed from the night before, placing his hands between the cloth he allowed the light of the bright day to pour in. Atop the counter he found some fruit, he picked an apple and sat in one of the chair while simultaneously placing his feet on the table.

“I wonder what that Vicious girl is up to” he gave the apple another bite. It was juicy.

[Vicious]

After a few moments, the sound of the bedroom door sounded, followed by the bathroom, a flush and finally the sink. A groan sounded as Vicious emerged into the light of the kitchen.

“What time is it?” she mumbled as she searched around for something to drink. Her throat coarse and raw from the fifth of vodka she had dropped back for her nerves.

After a quick search she found a bottle of milk, popping the top off and taking a long drink strait from the bottle. Her hair hung wild and unkempt in a single long ponytail.

She turned, glaring over her glasses as she stared at Melancor, her body leaning against the cold counter.

“ I see you're still here...” she spat, before feeling a slight chill.

Her eyes drifted down from her partner, slowly realizing the facilitator of the symptom.

“I thought I was forgetting something.” she said softly, realizing that she was only adorned in her mesh shirt, leaving the naturalness of her body completely bared to her “partner”.

[Melancor]

The sound of a door that that swung open finally broke the silence in the room.

"It's cose to noon, have you be-"

Melancor saw as two bosoms came forth from the dark and into the light of the kitchen. He had been to stupefied to react, as their arrival was to swift for him to properly realize they where there. Her hair was wild, and her eyes where still heavy, she spoke with a groan, it was obvious she had just risen from sleep…She dug around the kitchen half-naked; it was not until when she must have felt a breeze that she noticed.

“eh…” The crimson apple escaped Melancor’s grip though he did not budge, “you… forgot… your top?” Melancor uttered, not being able to look somewhere else. He sat there for what felt as an hour, but only seconds had passed and his body was hot already; only thinn threads covered her pale breasts. Like these, ecounters had been many, but all of which had been too long for him to remember what the beautiful anatomy of a female resembled. His eyes bled aquamarine in colour.

"Say..." He uttered "Do you usually work in that outfit?"

[Vicious]

The haze of sleep was nearly gone as she watched this male, seeing his eyes take in her form. She felt herself getting one of those dark ideas that seemed to brew every once in a while, which as always, made her hot. The feeling of the cool air reminded her of the exhibition of his powers the night before.

His words were like those of boy, tumbling from a tongue that refused to work. It was always a theory she had that when that sort of thing occurred it meant that their tongue wished to do...more useful work thank speak.

After but a moment to take in his words she spoke “frequently,” She was blunt, her eyes peering into his from across the room before she began her slow, deliberate steps towards him. She gave a little bit of emphasis to the sway of her hips, those many hours of practicing belly dance showing in the subtleties.

Without a pause, and never a break in her stare she shoved his legs from the table, righting her partner in his chair. The familiar smile of her soul spread across her lips as she straddled him, pressing her chest against his and finally stopping to take a drink of the milk, making every movement exaggerated as she let the milk over flow her lips, and down her neck to her bust.