Post by Kesterel on Oct 7, 2006 19:05:04 GMT -5
The slow deep red of sunset
The rosy gold of dawn
The icy glow of starlight
The moon, alone, forlorn.
Forlorn. Not a word one would immediately jump to mind at the sight of the most glorious of that ancient and cursed race the Nephilim. It was night, and the thin sliver of moon was already drifting rapidly toward the western skyline, but there was one small alcove of the wood that was still bathed in light. Deep in the heart of the forest, by the plunge pool fed by a cascading stream that in turn tumbled down from the mountain that rose almost sheer from the midst of the dark green of the trees, was a sight to entrance even the most hard-hearted and world weary, ready to capture any that chanced there like a moth in a glistening spiders web. The pool, usually dark and still, shaded and secluded, hidden from the little moonlight there was by the overhang of tree branches, some bare, some over-laden with dense and heavy green-black leaves, was lit from below, ghostly white. No man-made underwater electrics could replicate the sheer magical aura given off from this spot; the light seemed to ebb and flow and flicker whilst all the while burning with ceaseless vigor and ferocity. If it were possible to set a blazing fire, nay, inferno, under water any passer by would attribute this inconceivable phenomenon thus, but of course it was not so. For endless minutes the light continued to burn, but in the next something even more heavenly appeared that would drive all thought of the previous beauty clean away.
At the very centre of the pool, well away from the rocky shore, something erupted with the force and grace of a leaping dusky dolphin. First a face emerged, high cheekboned and with eyes closed, followed by bare shoulders, taught muscles covered in loose droplets, her long golden hair - usually an impossible combination of sunlight and moonlight - darkened with the weight of the water that soaked her. Next a voluptuous breast emerged, almost slow motion and perfect against a backward arching spine. In what seemed like an eternity the creature came to a standstill, all at once relaxed and tensed, her muscles like those of carven white marble, and the source of the light was revealed in full magnificence. It was indeed the figure of a woman in all her curvaceous splendor, but there was something in the way she moved that spoke of animalistic origins, primal and predatory, a rippling flowing motion that was almost akin to the water that lapped softly at her perfect hips. An ethereal light seemed to emanate from her very skin, a fire that was both kindled by her nature and which consumed her soul, eating away at whatever parts of her had once been human. Below the water's surface the glow continued, spreading forth from where she stood, magnified and expanded by the properties of the pool, but above it was just her star-bright skin, a force of nature in itself.
Or perhaps one about to be unleashed.
The image of allure that currently inhabited the forest pool was not the only inducer of lust in the water that still and noiseless night. Not too far away, at almost exactly the same moment as the exquisite figure had erupted from the shimmering surface, another individual of note, this time male, though no less in physical perfection, stood beside the shining lake of Firefox watching the fog of his creation roll over the ground, laden with subtle proteins and strongly woven spells that would send the entire mortal population of this particular locality to the brink of insanity, fill them with the madness of desire. This woman too – if such a mundane word could be used to convey the majestic nature of the creature in the pool – had sowed the seed of lust in the waters, her own vial of liquid love, more potent than any created by man or wizard during any age of the world, now mingled with the essence of the forest. The water would seep into the roots of the trees, which would then exhale through their stomatal pores a concentrated form of the potion, which would drift through the air, filling the skies with that most addictive of draughts. Any who smelled it, who inhaled it, would be struck down with the inescapable disease that was love. Oh yes, some would contract undying love, feelings that would be bestowed upon them upon their first sight of another of their sexual persuasion. Others though, those not attuned to that weakest of emotions, would merely become infected with physical lust and the urge to go forth and spread their own seed in whichever manner suited them best.
The creature in the pool was a Nephilim, the other, her dearest kin, and they were the truth bringers. The thing which they had unleashed upon the world was merely the beginning, a means to bring the human populace to its wanting knees. They had removed the barriers to love, to lust, to want and desire, and mortal drives would now be laid bare for all to see in their infinite detail and folly. For those who could find love in this new atmosphere, it would be a utopia, paradise, an Eden on Earth. And this time, no God, however mighty or righteous, could through them out. This time, the Nephilim were the gods. While the human race was occupied, they could take their pick and choose from life. Take whom they wanted, go where they pleased, and all mortals would bow before them in gratitude for the gifts they had bestowed upon them.
Still with eyes closed the naked picture of feminine radiance relaxed her backward arched spine, long fingered white hands coming up out of the water, glistening with new formed droplets to stroke down between the inner curve of her breasts in a long sweeping motion, long nails trailing over her nipples and down to the hourglass curve of her waist and hips, back into the water with not even the faintest splash. The eyelids, traced with the pattern of the soft blue lines of veins, fluttered open to reveal eyes of palest violet, crystalline in their formation and predatory in their nature, hooded and cool. She waded to the edge of the pool, to the rocks where the water was shallower, barely concealing now the shadowy space between her legs. As she moved the water made no noise, and she moved as though she were a part of it, just as in tune with the element as would be a naiad of the stream. Unsurprising now, for the potion she had laced it with was based on the proteins in her own blood; she was not so much a part of the water as it was a part of her; blessed be the waters for her generous touch, unworthy things they.
Now she rested, reclining upon the smooth stones of the pool’s edge, bare breasted and at home, safe in the knowledge that soon, her blood would be used to send countless mortals running into the arms of emotion and longing. Perhaps some would be drawn to the Source of the power, to her waiting arms, her beating breast and her tingling thighs. Perhaps the curse of her loneliness might be lifted for a spell, her solitary confinement relinquished, if only for a while. She closed her eyes, arched back her neck to let the silvery beauty of the moonlight bathe her cheeks – thereby exposing her plentiful breast even more to the whispering breeze that would dry and chill her burning skin– and waited.
The rosy gold of dawn
The icy glow of starlight
The moon, alone, forlorn.
Forlorn. Not a word one would immediately jump to mind at the sight of the most glorious of that ancient and cursed race the Nephilim. It was night, and the thin sliver of moon was already drifting rapidly toward the western skyline, but there was one small alcove of the wood that was still bathed in light. Deep in the heart of the forest, by the plunge pool fed by a cascading stream that in turn tumbled down from the mountain that rose almost sheer from the midst of the dark green of the trees, was a sight to entrance even the most hard-hearted and world weary, ready to capture any that chanced there like a moth in a glistening spiders web. The pool, usually dark and still, shaded and secluded, hidden from the little moonlight there was by the overhang of tree branches, some bare, some over-laden with dense and heavy green-black leaves, was lit from below, ghostly white. No man-made underwater electrics could replicate the sheer magical aura given off from this spot; the light seemed to ebb and flow and flicker whilst all the while burning with ceaseless vigor and ferocity. If it were possible to set a blazing fire, nay, inferno, under water any passer by would attribute this inconceivable phenomenon thus, but of course it was not so. For endless minutes the light continued to burn, but in the next something even more heavenly appeared that would drive all thought of the previous beauty clean away.
At the very centre of the pool, well away from the rocky shore, something erupted with the force and grace of a leaping dusky dolphin. First a face emerged, high cheekboned and with eyes closed, followed by bare shoulders, taught muscles covered in loose droplets, her long golden hair - usually an impossible combination of sunlight and moonlight - darkened with the weight of the water that soaked her. Next a voluptuous breast emerged, almost slow motion and perfect against a backward arching spine. In what seemed like an eternity the creature came to a standstill, all at once relaxed and tensed, her muscles like those of carven white marble, and the source of the light was revealed in full magnificence. It was indeed the figure of a woman in all her curvaceous splendor, but there was something in the way she moved that spoke of animalistic origins, primal and predatory, a rippling flowing motion that was almost akin to the water that lapped softly at her perfect hips. An ethereal light seemed to emanate from her very skin, a fire that was both kindled by her nature and which consumed her soul, eating away at whatever parts of her had once been human. Below the water's surface the glow continued, spreading forth from where she stood, magnified and expanded by the properties of the pool, but above it was just her star-bright skin, a force of nature in itself.
Or perhaps one about to be unleashed.
The image of allure that currently inhabited the forest pool was not the only inducer of lust in the water that still and noiseless night. Not too far away, at almost exactly the same moment as the exquisite figure had erupted from the shimmering surface, another individual of note, this time male, though no less in physical perfection, stood beside the shining lake of Firefox watching the fog of his creation roll over the ground, laden with subtle proteins and strongly woven spells that would send the entire mortal population of this particular locality to the brink of insanity, fill them with the madness of desire. This woman too – if such a mundane word could be used to convey the majestic nature of the creature in the pool – had sowed the seed of lust in the waters, her own vial of liquid love, more potent than any created by man or wizard during any age of the world, now mingled with the essence of the forest. The water would seep into the roots of the trees, which would then exhale through their stomatal pores a concentrated form of the potion, which would drift through the air, filling the skies with that most addictive of draughts. Any who smelled it, who inhaled it, would be struck down with the inescapable disease that was love. Oh yes, some would contract undying love, feelings that would be bestowed upon them upon their first sight of another of their sexual persuasion. Others though, those not attuned to that weakest of emotions, would merely become infected with physical lust and the urge to go forth and spread their own seed in whichever manner suited them best.
The creature in the pool was a Nephilim, the other, her dearest kin, and they were the truth bringers. The thing which they had unleashed upon the world was merely the beginning, a means to bring the human populace to its wanting knees. They had removed the barriers to love, to lust, to want and desire, and mortal drives would now be laid bare for all to see in their infinite detail and folly. For those who could find love in this new atmosphere, it would be a utopia, paradise, an Eden on Earth. And this time, no God, however mighty or righteous, could through them out. This time, the Nephilim were the gods. While the human race was occupied, they could take their pick and choose from life. Take whom they wanted, go where they pleased, and all mortals would bow before them in gratitude for the gifts they had bestowed upon them.
Still with eyes closed the naked picture of feminine radiance relaxed her backward arched spine, long fingered white hands coming up out of the water, glistening with new formed droplets to stroke down between the inner curve of her breasts in a long sweeping motion, long nails trailing over her nipples and down to the hourglass curve of her waist and hips, back into the water with not even the faintest splash. The eyelids, traced with the pattern of the soft blue lines of veins, fluttered open to reveal eyes of palest violet, crystalline in their formation and predatory in their nature, hooded and cool. She waded to the edge of the pool, to the rocks where the water was shallower, barely concealing now the shadowy space between her legs. As she moved the water made no noise, and she moved as though she were a part of it, just as in tune with the element as would be a naiad of the stream. Unsurprising now, for the potion she had laced it with was based on the proteins in her own blood; she was not so much a part of the water as it was a part of her; blessed be the waters for her generous touch, unworthy things they.
Now she rested, reclining upon the smooth stones of the pool’s edge, bare breasted and at home, safe in the knowledge that soon, her blood would be used to send countless mortals running into the arms of emotion and longing. Perhaps some would be drawn to the Source of the power, to her waiting arms, her beating breast and her tingling thighs. Perhaps the curse of her loneliness might be lifted for a spell, her solitary confinement relinquished, if only for a while. She closed her eyes, arched back her neck to let the silvery beauty of the moonlight bathe her cheeks – thereby exposing her plentiful breast even more to the whispering breeze that would dry and chill her burning skin– and waited.