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Post by proserpine on Sept 24, 2010 0:18:51 GMT -6
Proserpine Adremelech Kozma. Each ring of the hammer as it struck the delicate blade she was working on seemed to repeat it, echoing it into the dark forge. A smirk came to Kozma's face as she stilled the heavy blows. It was almost perfect, slim, light, and yet it was strong, with a hilt that was balanced perfectly for both throwing or wielding. A work of art, and one of her better pieces. Only fitting for one of her better customers. Andras, he was more than just a customer. He was her longest returning customer, and a friend. Someone she trusted with her pieces, someone she knew respected the blade.
Now it was time for the finishing touches. A fitting inscription, and an edge sharper than a vampire's fang. They were the finishing touches on all blade's for him, and this one was extra special. Death's Lover, it said, the lettering beautiful on the blade, ready to be accentuated with blood, yet she new few could read what it said. It was a skill for that calligraphy that brought many to her shop, human and vampire alike. The other reason was because she made some of the thinnest, sharpest blades around. Carefully she etched the letters, taking painstakingly long to get them perfect. With a final brush of cloth over the thin grooves of the letters, she grinned, only one last thing to do, and, if her sense of time was correct, he would be here any minute now. She started the whetstone turning, bringing it up to speed before placing the edge of the blade against it. A charmed whetstone, that was her secret, saved up for for years and years, charmed to make blades sharpened on it stay sharper much longer than any normal blade would.
Wordcount: 298
Tags: Andras/Tomi
Notes: starter post xP should get better as we go
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Post by nyx on Sept 24, 2010 15:31:49 GMT -6
Every drop of blood that stained Andras' hands seemed to have less and less of an impact on him as the day passes. Lately he hardly flinched, when back then, he would at least stop and paid respects for them- even if they did the wrong thing. It was a time of war, and to be honest, he didn't show as much mercy as he did when he started out, that is, if he showed any emotions at all. It was one of the reasons why he honestly didn't favor war. What actually caught sparked an interest and made him take the leap was the thrill of the hunt. Most of his prey lately had been getting a little more difficult, sometimes he was even able to grace himself with a traitor vampire, sometimes a simpleton of a human. Despite it all, he found something to occupy his time with, and to be honest with himself, it was something he found himself liking to do; however rare it was. He hated many things, and didn't really like anything in particular.
But that could change. He does have an eye on someone. Someone that he was on his way to keep as of now, in fact. Tucking his silver dagger back in his boots, he wrapped the cloak around himself and moved with sure and swift steps. Ah- Proserpine Adremelech Kozma, how he loved to say her name. It was so easy, the way to rolled off his tongue, as if only he was meant to say it, and no one else. More then once he found himself inclined to protect, keep her safe because of his job. And more then once, she had proved him that she could fend or herself. A trait that he particularly liked about her, if it wasn't her striking personality and sultry demeanor. There is just something about her that made him do a double take the first day they met. He only came to order a set, as usual, there was no weapon maker that he really favored, but he was recommended to see her, since she, supposedly make the finest in the land. But upon meeting, something inside clicked, maybe it was the skill she used for his weapons, maybe it was something else, something he couldn't put a finger on. But ever since, he had refused to use any weapon unless it was the ones she often favored to make for him. He never trusted any blade to touch a hair on his victim's neck unless her hands had created it. True and fast- he never was seen with his old items anymore. Perhaps he was getting too dependent- but she often thought of him enough to make another set once she believes that his had become dull.
His lips twisted into a smile as he rounded the corner, and entered the shop that she resided in. The smell of fire and the sounds of another weapon forging hanging in the air like a thick cloud of smoke wafting from a pipe. His eyes landed on the redhead, her back to him, showing him her slim figure, her curves, her back, moist as she worked. Brown eyes flicked to her hair as he spoke, trying to be a little classy around her. It was difficult, they have known each other for so long, Andras once and a while finds himself to feel a little attached to her. More then he would like to be.
'Proserpine, I hear you are looking for me?' he spoke up, his tone smooth, formal, and soft as it always was. But his eyes sparkled, a unreadable expression fluttering across his face before disappearing. He clasped his hands behind his back in an effort not to go poking around and looking at the various blades scattered across the tables and such.
 NOTES:Weekend. I got carried away! You don't have to post half as long. D= WORDS: 0 6 4 9 TAGGED: P R O S E R P I N E CREDIT: StELLA ! at EVANESCENTLULLABIES ! |
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Post by proserpine on Sept 25, 2010 22:32:15 GMT -6
Fire, one of Proserpine's main addictions. The heat, the danger of it, it was almost magical, she thought as mesmerizing as the whirl of the whetstone she used to sharpen the blades. But even as mesmerizing as it was, she never missed a thing in her shop. The thin lines of sweat, now cool, rolling down her back, the slight ripples of heat coming from the still burning coals, and the breeze that stirred the sir when someone entered her shop. It was a still breeze, soft and gentle, almost as if speaking for the silent guest, “I'm sorry to disturb you”. Only one person could walk so softly into her shop that she could only tell he was there from the breeze, not the sound of his steps. She smirked, still not turning as she finished her work as she was proved right. His voice nearly sent shivers down her back, but she was better trained than that. For years she had kept her emotions in careful check around him, for years she had managed to go without showing outwardly how much he was progressively affecting her, she wouldn't start showing them now. Taking the blade from the stone, she turned toward him, smiling, eyes giving a return sparkle as she examined the blade, looking over it at him. “I made you something special.” she said, running a finger down the edge of the blade, yet not touching it because it would cut her. It wasn't that it would really hurt, but she never liked having blades mar her skin. It was what had made her practice so hard to master the weapons she made, that and knowing her blades were used by many trained to kill. Of those, Andras was her favorite. Such a thrill knowing the man before her could have killed her a thousand different ways, surely. Yet he didn't. He never tried to harm her. Instead, what had started out as a mere mutual respect for weapons, had turned into a friendship, close companions almost. He was the only one she made blades like this for. She smirked as she walked over to him, eying the hands behind his back. “Not going to be snooping today? Good. What I have here,” reverently she held the blade, displaying it for him, holing it out for him to take, “Is far better than any of the other trinkets around.” The pride in her craftsmanship shone in her eyes as she waited for his response. It was perhaps her best piece. Pure silver, yet strong as steel. A blade sharper than any other she had yet made. A blade she was unsure she could make one that was its equal ever again. Not even her personal blade, tucked up in a garter under the long black skirts she always wore, could equal it. But not an ounce of her wanted to keep it for herself, she had made it, put all of her craft into it, for him. It was made to fit in the palm of his hand, made to answer his every need for it. If anyone else had come in, she would have hidden it away. Only two pairs of hands were to ever hold this blade, this work of art, this vehicle of death. Words: 554 Tags: Andras Notes: almost twice as big, getting better already!  |
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Post by nyx on Sept 26, 2010 10:31:35 GMT -6
Andras watched when she turned to face him. Taking a moment, she admired her work, while he admired her. Though they met often, it was usually within her working space, he would pick up what he needed to, chat for a bit, and he would depart for work. They never had a midnight debauchery or anything of the sort. But it seemed every time he looked at her, he seemed to have this feeling; as if they had met before, or they were meant to meet. His eyes roamed down her slimming body, her perfect curves, the way her clothes hung off her in such a manner. Brown orbs eventually moved up to her face, her red hair like crimson ribbons that framed he pale face. Those ruby red lips, the color of blood. She was the embodiment of blood and lust in his eyes. She held this beauty that he hadn't seen before.It made him question why she was working here, rather then somewhere more fit for her. But she seemed content, and he didn't want her to leave, call in selfish, but he would need to find someone to make weapons for him- and none makes it as well as her.
He looked at the blade when she looked up at him, she was closer, but not close enough. He kept the hood on his face, covering most of his face and leaving his defining features shadowed as he stayed silent. The way she said the words caught his interest- not so much as the words itself because she always used those words when she made him something new. But her tone hinted there was something more to this blade then what meets the engraved blade, and as his eyes drifted across the length of it, he noted that it was, indeed, more then just a normal blade. She didn't touch the sharp edge as she did with others, and it was much slimmer, be it any blade, it would simply break once it his its target, leaving a mere scratch. One slim, pale finger ran the pad over the words, gleaming with glee in the fire's light, ready to be played with, and instantly, his other hand twitched in excitement. He took both hands and gently lifted it from her hands, examining with with slight interest. To his surprise, it was perfect, unlike anything he had ever seen, and already, he knew what the use of this new blade could be.
'You have, outdone yourself, Proserpine,' he whispered lightly, not in a rude, unkind way.And he raised the silver to his lips, kissing the spot she was holding it a few seconds ago, almost like he was touching her skin, like he was kissing perfection. 'I am... honored,' he murmured smoothly, his eyes raising to her as he flourished the blade before holding it still once more. He took a step closer to her, the fabric of her outfit, just brushing against the cloak he was wearing, his fingers ran over the smooth silver before twirling it around his fingers and tucking it into the sleeve of his robes, fitting right into the sheath that held two daggers. He wasn't greedy, when she made something, he would put it to good use. But there was nothing he could return to her, besides little trinkets that he could buy for her once he got his money. 'There must be something I can do... to repay you,' he uttered, one hand reaching up to ghost over her temple to her jaw, not even touching her stainless skin before he dropped his hand and watched for a response.
NOTES: Dunno if I like this post. WORDS: 0 6 1 5 TAGGED: P R O S E R P I N E CREDIT: StELLA ! at EVANESCENTLULLABIES ! |
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Post by proserpine on Oct 9, 2010 11:21:17 GMT -6
It would be a lie if Proserpine said she didn't like having time with Andras, even just the meetings in her forge and one or two times they ran into each other at the blood bar or somewhere else like that. They never seemed to be really alone together, they never had times when passion overruled sensibility, and for that she wondered if she was starting to regret it. Perhaps this blade was the embodiment of her secret desires. Perhaps it was a piece of her soul she was asking him to take with him everywhere he went. A small shot of envy went through her as he kissed the blade, the tiniest thought of wishing it was her, not the blade that felt those lips. But it was gone in an instant as his eyes left the blade and went to hers once more. He handled the blade so well, she knew her mission with it had been accomplished. It was a perfect blade for him, the way he made it move, the way he looked at it told her he saw it too.
With a small, prideful smile she bowed her head in acknowledgement of his praise. Her eyes held with his, the one thing she could see of his face, the one thing she could always see, those dark, shining eyes, even hidden in the shadow of his hood. He was closer to her now, close enough a small step by her would put her in his arms. And the blade was put in a sheath, hidden away in his robes. Her eyes had followed that movement before she looked back into his eyes, just in time to nearly feel his delicate fingers brush over her skin. He was teasing her, today. Being so near, almost touching her, kissing the blade. It made her speechless as she looked into his eyes, her own hand reaching to mirror his action, almost touching that skin hidden in the shadows of his hood. “Perhaps... perhaps there is.” she murmured as her hand slowly withdrew.
“Do you have time, tonight, to stay here and rest?” it was a simple enough offer, one she had told a few other of her faithful customers before, but never had she invited a man into her home. “I would be glad of the company, and perhaps a tale or two. It has been too long since I heard the heroics of my blades.” She wanted to hear his stories, hear of him more than her blades. The little pieces of it he had told her before were amazing, and truly, truly she wanted more. It excited her, the stories he told, the way he did things she only dreamed of. Yes she hunted at times for her meals, though more often then not, these days, humans that wanted one of her blades were more than willing to part with their blood instead of their gold. More than his stories, though she wanted him, she wanted time with him, alone together. She licked her blood red lips absentmindedly as she waited for a response, gazing into his eyes, almost finding herself lost in them.
Wordcount: 531
Tags: Andras/Tomi
Notes: finally
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Post by nyx on Oct 12, 2010 16:37:52 GMT -6
Andras looked at her. There had always been something about her that he never really could understand. Beautiful, perfect, and a master at her craft, it was regretful that work always seem to go first for him. When they met- they spoke of his work, and then her job- and if she needed help in anything. They would then part ways, and continue with their lives, never taking a moment to stop and let the world go by so they could speak of something else, something different, something out of the ordinary- or rather- what they called ordinary. He wanted for once to sit and say what they were thinking of the exact moment they met. He would know what to say, but he would never voice those opinions. What they had were strictly on knives and blades, nothing more, right? She made him the finest weapons he could lay hands on and he would, in return, give her some of his shares that he made. Both of them had a profound interest in weapons- something they shared, something (and sadly, the only thing) that brought them together. It was the same talk they would talk, never once did he consider anything more.
Did he regret it? As his lips kissed the silver- he found himself not enjoying it. It was cold, he would much rather feel warmth, maybe the leftover wisp of heat that gathers around her; it was hard, when he enjoy skin simply sinking into his touch; it was emotionless, when he would much rather feel her reaction to his movements under his lips then have to look up and see those eyes- and eyes can hold back emotions, but in a stir of a moment, one can't help their actions. It would be tempting, to see what would have happened, if it was her he was holding-
And he immediately rejected the idea from his head, he wasn't one to think about thoughts unless he was willing to take the risk or was able to make it come true. Would it be worth it- to risk their relationships over small feelings? In fact- he wasn't even sure she felt the same way as he did- he was- regrettably someone who held a lot of connections, bonds, relationships. It probably isn't the great idea, but he wasn't willing t risk it, at least not yet. He had to be sure of his actions before he did them, around her- he was never sure. Much to his frustration, he hardly could keep his head leveled around her, though on the outside it never showed his inner struggle.
And eyebrow quirked at her request. It was safe to say that he didn't expect it at all. But he wasn't unpleased by it- far from it. His lips curled into a smile and he nodded his head [/color] he said respectfully, dipping his head for a quickest of seconds before meeting her gaze once more. It gave them a chance to talk but be alone together for the time of that night- he bent his head, his hands reaching up and pulling his hood away from his face, letting the firelight illuminate and accentuate it, the shadows dancing on his high cheekbones and distinguishing sharp jaw.
'If it's not to much- I would love to,' he murmured, his tone smooth. [/size] [/blockquote] [/justify] |
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