To throw my appreciation hat in the ring. Wow. @Chakrasul. Just. Wow.
This is a continuation of the 'Bene Corruption Logs' in The Chronicles of Benedicto directly leading on from New Page, Same Chapter
A piercing scream heralds the arrival of a cacophony of duskywing butterflies that quickly coalesce into the form of Chakrasul.
You have emoted: Benedicto nods tersely, his expression flat with dread. "She is in my mind. I do not know what comes next." He warns Zaila quickly, but it is too late. He plants his hands and slides himself free of Zaila, backpedaling away from Chakrasul.
She is an Immortal, emanating an emerald glow, the light serving to accentuate Her sharp facial features. The green coloration originates from the pair of jade orbs inset Her face. Lacking pupils, the verdant green of Her eyes compliments the smoky hues of black painted on Her eyelids. Her dark hair, masterfully intertwined, crowns Her head in the form of two thick braids that create a makeshift circlet. Living Duskywing butterflies are pinned intermittently to Her jet hair, their wings offering the occasional, helpless flutter. Finally, dwarfing Her pale body is a set of onyx, feathered wings that arc gracefully away from the muscles of Her back.
(fitting perfectly to Her form) : a shimmering white gown
(resting snugly upon Her brow) : the Circlet of Corruption
(danging from a chain on Her wrist) : an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly
"I decided I didn't care," Chakrasul announces as She reforms and Her jade eyes wander Her surroundings with slow leisure as a sadistic grin begins to turn Her lips upwards.THINK - "If she had just left when I told her. Now we're both unicorns."
You have emoted: Benedicto reaches a corner of the room, his pearl-white eyes glazed with terror as he regards Chakrasul. He pushes himself as far into the connecting walls as he can go, almost willing himself through the framework in an effort to put as much distance between him and the Goddess as possible.
Scrambling similarly back from you toward the far ledge of the pillow-filled depression, Zaila's retreat is halted at Chakrasul's arrival, the steady beat of anxiety that has kept with her for the entire conversation rises only higher to pound relentlessly against her chest as she stares wide-eyed at Her form, clearing her throat with all the confidence of a mouse and trying to force a casual tone into her pinched voice as she asks, "Ah. Our.. favourite Goddess... I presume? So. Honored to meet you."THINK - With the swiftness of a bolt of lightning, he mentally checks that the bindings are secure and in place. Satisfied that they are, he allows his attention to drift towards his companion.
mind hallucinate zaila "For whatever it is that She may make me do. I am sorry." If the words had been spoken aloud by him, there would have been a sob to his voice. A sensation, like clasping the hand of another in the face of fear, fills your mind.
You project the hallucination into the mind of Zaila.
You have emoted: Benedicto gathers himself and directs a meaningful look towards Zaila.
"It delights Me that you feel so," Chakrasul replies on a dry tone and Her bare feet create a whisper of a sound as She moves to the pile of pillows in the center of the bungalow. As She reaches the edge of the plush pile, She drops Herself into the middle of it all. "Did you know," the Goddess begins as She wriggles to make Herself comfortable, "That there is an interesting little triangle going on here that I find -very- intriguing," She continues and She drops an arm to the side to drape lazily over a pillow nearest Her, "My little monster," She uses Her free hand to gesture loosely to you, then Zaila, "Delightful lady Tenor AND her father - ALL of you have approached Me." As She finishes, Her hand drops into Her lap and She pulls Her wings forward to allow Her the room to recline with the appendages draping over the rest of the pillows like a dark pool of feathers.
As if in response to the thoughts and emotions shared between you and Zaila, Chakrasul snorts in amusement.
You have emoted: "You make it sound like we come willingly." Benedicto croaks in response, his pearl-white eyes snapping back to Chakrasul. With each passing second, he seems to get some small shred of himself back. There is no doubt that fear strums through him like the plucked string of a lute, but he manages to gather enough of his courage back that he pushes himself upright to face Her.
"You don't?" Chakrasul quips as She pins you with Her stare and a knowing smile pulls on Her mouth again.THINK - The words "my little monster" resonate unpleasantly throughout his consciousness. A cacophony of violent and disturbing images flit through his mind as a relative blur.
"Don't blame him, every Tenor is a sucker for a head covered in dicks," Zaila attempts to excuse flippantly, though her expression twitches and catches with every few words in a myriad of fear, curiosity, concern and just a dash of excitement. Her shoulders remain stiff and limbs wound tight as though preparing to spring free from an imminent attack.
You have emoted: Benedicto closes his mouth with an audible clack, his jaw working furiously as he stares over at Zaila in shock.THINK - "Don't try to play games with this One, Zaila. There will be no positive outcome."
"I would correct you, Benedicto," Chakrasul picks up casually and Her head turns so She may regard Zaila as well, "Each of you approached me of your own free will and THAT is what is interesting. I did not need to put any effort into it," She cocks Her head to the left, "Regardless of the Tenor taste for a head covered in dicks, as you so eloquently put it."
With a mocking pout, Chakrasul says, "Please let her play games with Me, little monster. I enjoy it so."
You have emoted: A frown furrows Benedicto's brow as he considers Chakrasul's words. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I did not come to You, I accused You certainly but it was a mistake and I apologized for th--STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Frustration gets the better of the man and he leans forward, his neck corded with the effort of his bellowed words.THINK - "Thinknothingthinknothingthinknothingthinknothing".
Dark, alluring whispers that promise malice lift away from an ironwrought cage and the metaphysical insect contained within the tiny enclosure fans its wings as it alights one of the cold, black bars.
Her quip taken in relative stride, Zaila flips her gaze back over to you with a faintly apologetic flip of her lips before returning her attention to the lounging Goddess at the large man's sudden rise in volume. Snapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Zaila raises a single hand in a poor attempt to deflate the rising level of tension, "In my defense, I thought I was just backing Dad's play there."BENE POV - "I know how badly you want to be free," She croons against your conscious and a tender fabric of Her essence drags along the mental shackles that clamp down on -it-. "Soon," She promises on a whisper so soft, it is near impossible to pick up the underlying lace of malice as it wraps around your mind.
You have emoted: Benedicto whimpers as he claps his hands to the sides of his head, straining to bring them together. "No!" He whispers hoarsely.THINK - The strain. Even this faint promise awakens the captives within their bindings. They howl and bellow, yearning for release, "Mistress! Mistress!" They call with eager voices.
"Your father grumbled something about you being helpful, though his language was far more colorful," Chakrasul replies to Zaila and Her wings drag forward as the Goddess straightens to stare at you, "Come here," She commands on an enticing tone as She lifts a hand and crooks a finger, beckoning you.
You have emoted: Benedicto shakes his head, his hands still clamped on either side of it. "No." He denies Chakrasul.
"Tch," Chakrasul waggles that finger still hovering in the air between Her and you, "That was a mistake," She announces and with fluid grace, the Goddess untangles Herself from the mass of pillows to rise.THINK - Internally, he strives to quieten his mental prisoners, shackling them more tightly.
You have emoted: Benedicto leans back and away from Chakrasul as She rises from the sea of pillows. Now he lowers his hands and stretches them forth, palms extended outwards in a halting gesture towards Her.
"Sounds like Dad," Zaila murmurs under her breath first, trying to force an unaffected gaze as she watches the man nearly cowering and springs to her feet with a sudden, hasty and noisy proclamation, "You know what we all need to do? We need to play a game! I know - just- the game. Iosyne loved it."
"I am playing a game," Chakrasul snarls and She steps over pillows that are between Her and you, slow and tormenting. Once the Goddess reaches the edge of the fluffy nest, She surges forward, Her body blurring with the movement with speed so akin to the Consanguine - or them akin to Her. Butterflies trail slowly in Her wake as She appears directly in front of you, "Let Me remind you," she growls as a hand caresses along your jawline, the touch a severe contradiction to the cruel glimmer in Her eyes, "That you are Mine for as long as you have something that belongs to Me." The Goddess sneers as Her fingers slide up and into your tentacles, which is when Her entire demeanor changes. She grips onto the flailing 'hair' and pulls, "I will find a way to release him from those shackles. Before you reach My Brother." Her promise rings through the bungalow as She stares openly at your face, waiting, -craving- your next response.
BENE POV - Wherever there is a point of contact with Her skin against your own, a phantom pain manifests, as if your flesh is decaying away from Her touch.
You have emoted: Benedicto startles at Chakrasul's speed, his feet working beneath him to try and drive him back. Despite his honed reflexes, years of experience in combat, he is naught before Her. He screams in agonizing pain at the touch of Chakrasul's hand and this persists throughout the darkly uttered warnings. Between his tortured yells, his lips move and form words, echoing the Goddess. "Him?" and "Brother?" His lips form a question of the words but his voice cannot utter them.THINK - Pain. It encompasses every facet of his consciousness. Nothing sane, no logical thought can penetrate the sheer overwhelming nature of Her touch.
A quiet shriek choked down her throat at the Goddess's burst of speed, Zaila's eyes cling to the pair, her chest a rush of anxious breaths as she watches on, terrified and useless, but unwilling to run, dipping down instead to grab the nearest pillow, hands shaking as she remains quiet. For once.
"Look after My little monster for me," Chakrasul calls over Her shoulder to Zaila as She finally releases you. Stepping back one, two steps, the Goddess pivots and begins to stalk towards Zaila, however, with each movement She simply unravels, the last image offered to Zaila being Her lips twisted into a cold smile.
Shattering into thousands of duskywing butterflies, Chakrasul's body unravels and as the last insect leaves, no trace of the Goddess remains.