The pull

[Marjorie]

The air was thick with heat and humidity. The market was dense with people, and a cacophony of sound drowned out the the sounds of the near-by jungle. There was a whips of smoke, and then Lama'ashta appeared. She was short, at only five foot, two inches, she appeared around the average hire of the natives. Her skin was fair, but with honey gold in it. She near sparkled in the sunlight, from the gold in her clothing. Whips of white fabric, bound only at her hips by gold fabric blew in the gentle breeze, showing flashes of skin as she walked. Covering little more than her breasts, she wore a top that was laced up the front and beaded all the way around with gold beads and jewels. She wore a head dress, lined with round flat gold peaces hanging from beaded cords, which looked almost like coins, and a sheer vale that hung down the back of her head to her waste. Her hair was long and dark and fell well past her shoulders in soft waves.

Lama'ashta smiled, something entirely all too pleased. There was some suffering here, some decay -- and not the sort she expected. Usually she was drawn to the outskirts, to the untouchables, the downtrodden who she held dominion over. However today, there was someone else she felt the pull of... She just couldn't quite put her finger on who it was yet.

[Draconian]

Was this what the end felt like?

Nail could barely hold the form. He knew his horns and ears were tenting the hood he wore. He was so warm, too.Too warm. He knew he was dying and he also knew that there was nothing to prevent that from happening. It was hard to avoid attention here, towering over the locals like some sort of old tree. His breath was hot in his mouth while he walked around, hated the feeling of sweat dripping down his neck under his cloak. Under the cloak he wore little. A simple pair of breeches. Nail had bare feet covered in dust that he was trying desperately to keep from going puppy. He didn't need to spout a tail and paws in the middle of a group of people.

The last thing he wanted to do was die. He was already headed there.

Though, it was like a pulse. A fresh breeze. A throb through the wind that washed over him and it felt like he could finally take a deep breath. His ears twitched when he spotted her. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, Nail taking a step closer with each pulse of strength he felt from her. Power. Raw power and it was untapped and just for him.

There was no thought in the process. Simply instinct and urge. Nail didn't hesitate before he kneeled down in front of the woman. Cold clammy hands reaching for hers before he brought his hand to her mouth to press a gentle kiss to the knuckles and hold it to his forehead. "It's you," Nail whispered, looking up at her, silver eyes glazed over and tired looking, "please accept me as your Bound." He didn't know if she knew about hellhounds, "Please. I'm dying. I can explain but... I don't know how long I have. I can already feel it. Please," Nail ducked his head down, moving over slightly to press his head to her thigh, "Please," He begged, voice rough, "please."

[Marjorie]

She felt the pull, like magnets aligned with opposite pols, the slow steady pulse, the need, the hunger - it wasn't her own though, she felt his pull toward him, and she could near taste his suffering on the breeze. Then the sad creature knelt before her, that action pulled a wicked grin across her lips.

"Mmm... delicious..." Such sweet, sweet suffering. Silver eyes, and he begged beautifully, desperately. The demon made an indecent sound of pleasure as she looked him over. She reached down and pulled back the hood of his cloak to get a better look. "Your suffering would not end, for I am sorrow," she said, he voice low, soft, like a lover's purr, "though your life may be restored. I would own you." Her fingers brushed along his cheek - she could feel it, burning with a fever.

"Say it," she snapped in a sudden demand, yanking his chin,  forcing him to look up at her.

[Draconian]

Nail made a little bit of a face at her noise. His head was full of fuzz and he couldn't focus but he'd spent enough time in the human realm to know that you didn't just orgasm in the middle of the road without some looks. Of course they were getting looks. He was a strange looking beast-person kneeling on the ground in front of... Whatever she was. Well, half-beast now. His control had slipped and a long red-furred tail slipped out behind his cloak, curling around his feet in the dust.

"I..." Nail gave a frustrated noise, eyes closed and looking up at her when she tilted his chin up. His eyes were near reflective in their silveryness and his cheeks flushed and lips pursed. Nail clenched his teeth and for a moment, just a moment, considered turning away and telling his only chance at living to eat dirt and pound the ground.

"You own me," He whispered, eyes on hers, lips parted and he licked them frustratedly. That's what she wanted to hear, right? "Just..." Nail moved to pull away for a moment, "Are you going to help me or not.  I just... I need your blood and then I'm attached to your lifeline. In exchange I'll be your servant. Please... Mortality is deafening. I can feel myself dying and I'm going to go crazy if it continues." Nail reached up to grab the womans wrist before he held it and pressed a kiss to her palm, "You own me, body and what little soul I have left, if you would do me the service of giving me your blood." Nail's breath was hot, cheeks were flushed, "Please."

[Marjorie]

People were looking at them, and she was looking at him rather indecently. She liked her lips. He shifted forms, half way - she didn't even know what he was, but she could sense him slipping away, the deepening of his suffering, the nearness of it's ending. Well she couldn't have that. Such a sweet treat at this had to be kept.

"Beautiful," she purred, "you're so beautiful, down there, on your knees, suffering, begging... loosing control of yourself." She took in a sharp breath, the way one did when a lover touched a sensitive spot just the right way. Let them look. She didn't care.

"Such a good boy," she grinned, and then lifted her free hand to her lips and bit down on her finger. She drew blood, and then she lowered her hand down to him, little droplets of red preceding it.

[Draconian]

Yes. Perfect.

Immortality was right there. Dangling on her finger tip. Nail watched her for a moment before he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth. He sucked on her finger, letting the coppery tang of blood wash over him. It was a balm on his heated flesh and it smoothed through him like a gentle sweet breeze.

Nail popped her finger out of his mouth and remained on his knees for a moment, savoring.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders before he stood up. Nail was under no disguise then, having pulled back the hood now that he was 'better'. His ears poked out up above his head and the crown of horns grew in a moment. He flicked his ear and stood to his full height, a far cry from the kneeling weak beast of before.

He smiled down at the lady who'd he'd bound himself to and extended a hand in greeting.

"My name is Nail," a collar rested on his neck, easily seen now that the hood was down off his shoulders. A single jewel glowed faintly on the crude looking thing and he raised a hand to pet it affectionately. "Who are you? Exactly."

[Marjorie]

"Mmm..." Lama'ashta closed her eyes while he sucked on her finger. She could feel the change in him though, the way his suffering left him, the way the fire burning his blood cooled. She tisked and shook her head when he released her finger, the wound healing instantly. He had been so beautiful in his desperation. Now... now he looked vibrant and alive, and it displeased her. She frowned softly and then smacked his and away.

"Nail," she said, cocking her head. The fact that she was shorted than him did not bother her, however the idea that he spoke to her as if they were equals did. "Like a nail in a coffin?" She chuckled softly, "Funny that you should ask that only now, after you gave yourself into my possession."

The demon didn't answer his question though, instead, she reached up, growing taller, but keeping her proportions as she did so, until they were nose to nose, though his horns, she supposed, made him technically still taller than her. It happened in an instant. Her fingers finally reached their mark, a second later, curling around the collar about his throat. She pulled him closer by it with a tug, so their lips were almost touching. She brushed her thumb over the faintly glowing purple stone on it.

"I am you suffering," she whispered, her breath puffing lightly against his skin, "and I am your Mistress, and you will address me as such."

She pushed him back, with her hand at his chest. "What are you?" She looked him up and down, he sure was a pretty thing, whatever the dog-looking-boy was.

[Draconian]

That was a neat trick.

Nail flicked his ear and tilted his head, looking the woman up and down after she got taller. To his height even. Hmm. He flicked his tail back and forth and took a step back, rocks crunching under his boots. She wasn't an unattractive woman, but now that she was so large she'd be harder to protect.

No matter. He'd sniffed her out fine, and while he was a little weaker for the absence of a Source for the Binding, if she were to die he'd he'd survive a littlr while longer. Fill the cup first, before she died. Sort of.

Nail smiled at her, a wolfish grin, his canines long and teeth sharp.

"Mistress is a boring name," he said simply, voice a purr. "What am I? You can't ask me that." Nail grinned before he leaned in to give his new 'Mistress' a loud kiss on the lips.

"I am a Hellhound. Basically, I leech off your life force to keep myself alive and in exchange you get a meat shield. I'll protect you. In any way I can." Nail shifted his stance and crossed his arms, "That's about it though, if you thought you were getting a drooling pretty slave... Well, you should have gotten me to explain before you made the blood pact with me." Nail smiled and then added on, "Though I'm not adverse to using my services for other things."

[Marjorie]

Lama'ashta bit his lip, rather hard, when the dog-boy-creature smacked a kiss on her lips. It had been a long time sense someone had treated her as if they were anything other than her subordinate. She kind of liked it and she kind of hated it. It was a lot more interesting to have someone defiant, who didn't just grovel at her feet or beg and piss themselves in fear. 

"I already told you my name, you were not listening very well," she said with a sly little smile, "Lama'ashta means suffering decay in the ancient tongue. That's who and what I am." She licked the taste of him off her lips. She fed off of the misery and suffering of others, the same way, she supposed, he now fed off her life source. The irony of that pulled a smirk to her lips. 

"Drooling slaves are useless," she countered, "and there are a lot of things much worst than death in this world. " Protection? She almost laughed, he really might turn out to be useless. "Oh don't worry," she said, "we will find some used for you." Protecting her wasn't likely going to be it. Lama'ashta couldn't actually even remember the last time she'd needed any kind of protecting.

She reached out a hand toward him then, entitled, and pulled his cloak off. It wasn't as if he needed it for warmth here,  and she wanted a better look at him. She walked a circle around Nail, watching him, something predatory in the way she looked at him. She clearly considered herself at the top of the food chain.

[Draconian]

Hm. Nail leaned back after she bit him and chewed on the spot, replacing the sharp pain with something familiar like the feeling of his own teeth in his lips. There was no blood drawn so quickly the pain ebbed away. Without the headache and feeling like dying, simple pain was a welcome change. Well, as welcome as any pain was.

"There are lots of ancient tongues," Nail quipped, "and" He placed his hands on his hips, giving her a look, "You said 'I am your suffering,'. Who would name their child that?" Nail waved a hand by his face dismissively, "Lama'Ashta is fine. Your Suffering is awful." He smiled, ducking his head down when she started to remove the cloak. The strange crown of horns made removing hoods difficult and he watched her watch him.

Nail was an interesting looking man. In a sort of in between form, his hair was tied back in a long pony tail that reached his hips. His ears were furred and long and they reached about the same point as his strange crown of horns, short at his forehead but longer at the back, framing that long length of hair. For the most part he appeared human, broad shouldered with a narrow waist. Dressed the part of a working man, he wore a loose white shirt tucked into brown pants. Regular boots and, the only thing strange with his body now was his long red furred tail, waving behind him not unlike a ribbon.

And now his cloak was gone.

A flash of silver before his eyes turned simply to grey and he smiled, "That's the deal, Ash, though, if we're being honest, I'm sort of just a parasite until you die or I find a better meal." He winked at her and tilted his head and lifted a hand to tap at his lips, pondering, "Though I can do heavy lifting." He looked around for a moment before he rested his hands on his hips again, "What were you doing before I wandered by, Ash? Maybe I can help with that."

[Marjorie]

Lama'Ashta touched his hair, ran a finger along the curve of one of his horns, caught one of his ears gently between her thumb and finger, curious if his fur was soft or not. He was a pretty thing to look at, at least.

"I'm the physical manifestation of suffering, death, and decay... so long as these things exist, so will I. In some form or another." Parasites were a form of disease... that seemed almost fitting.

"Don't call me that," she said, expecting to be obeyed, and annoyed. "Call me by my name or call me mistress." What had she been doing here, before they had met. "I was drawn here by your presence. I was feeding off of your suffering," that was a statement rich with irony, "and it was delicious. You really were beautiful, the way you begged." She rested her hand on his cheek, and then let it fall away from him as she turned to walk away. "Come," she said, "I'm still hungry."