Reviewing the Situation.... (Dimitri)

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

It wasn't even her. This couldn't be happening to her, could it? Somewhere between his words and the pressure of his thumbs against her orbs, fear snatched her voice and dragged her way from him. Things were going to happen to her. Maybe he'd take her sight, maybe kill her. She lidded her eyes and waited, not wanting to hear his words even though they rained down on her and injected themselves into her awareness. It was as if she couldn't shut the words out nor could she shut him out. Dimitri had killed. Dimitri had raped. She knew it, even without his pride at his own actions. And now, she'd allowed herself to come to a place he'd have power over her... all for a dead woman she didn't even know.

Avrie could only back away deep within her mind, not physically, no... and she couldn't reach the Ambarando... not here, not so far from the life giving force in this deep cold mountain city. Silently, she vowed she'd never leave it ever again... not its comforting blue-green fold where someone like Dimitri would never touch her. Silently she vowed she'd learn it better, work harder, make it more a part of herself so she could always protect those she loved... and herself. If she lived... and by Carmelya she wanted too walk away from this alive.

She wanted to reach for the Ambarando's power, and dissolve her awareness deep into its blue-green comfort... phase away, and never rematerialized. Luca would understand. Luca never left the Ambarando. It was something she'd never talked to Venn about. Venn.... would he miss her when Dimitri killed her? Did he even miss her now? Avrie clenched her teeth and came back to herself. It was Venn, the thought of her life mate and what he'd think or do seeing her in this situation, that drove her back to face it. Thoughts of him gave her strength, and she fought.

Then she opened her eyes and started to scream... some of it was fear, but most of it was rage. They were carrying her somewhere... Dimitri was still speaking. She struggled, shrieking again, tossing her head and trying to bite the orcs on either side of her. The slap stunned her again, but didn't stop her struggling. She felt her legs bound, her arms stretched, and her head locked. Baring her teeth, Avrie spit her rage and fury at Dimitri even as her head pounded and blood flowed from her broken lip. She heard the water and Dimitri's words and didn't understand. He was going to drown her? Wash her? She remembered his words about what he'd do before he used her and Avrie arched her back, finding the words to Song but having no vis to mix and create mana, and no hope of reaching Clara to do so. It was sad in a way, the bard struggling and mindlessly panicked. Over and over she attempted to cast... as if she had a hope of it working... shrieking the words to a song with no power behind it, almost mindless as her rage turned to terror. In a way, she was singing for him, but it was a desperate empty song with no power behind it. If he hadn't have tied up her arms and legs, she would have been okay.... but bound... and unable to reach the Ambarando...

... was a new form of terror. One the bard felt all the way to her core.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Dimitri carefully raised a finger, upon it was the signet ring of the one church, a ring he enjoyed wearing despite his actions. It showed an image of Diana in brilliant red ruby. Carefully he moved his hand about before her face, "May this child of yours, kissed by the sun you move and the sky you populate with bright stars be cleansed in the holy waters I give to you." He paused and smiled, "Time for you to be cleansed Avrie, appropriate for a gypsy filth like yourself, lets see if we can was some of it away and some cheek alongside it." He smiled and nodded to the orcs who each gravved a handle by her legs and lifted it. This motion sent the girl down headfirst into the water keeping her head still under it.

Dimitri crept his hand into the water and with something approaching affection massaged her scalp as she was held under for no more then ten seconds before being raised again.

"Do you feel clean Avrie, have my waters of glorious rage cleansed you of the horror you contain within your soul?" He smiled and stroked her prone head confident now she could not bite, the power engulfed Dimitri and he forgot himself, perhaps now he was at his most dangerous.

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

Again his words echoed over her. I can't move. Why can't I move? Crossed her mind, mingling with his own macabre sort of blessing. It was a baptism of irony, and as the table tilted abruptly and unexpectedly, she jerked, fists gripping anything they could find in the table where they were bound. The water.... covered her head, and where he might have thought it would scare her, it didn't. Not really. It washed at the blood, for even though it was filthy it was still her element. Avrie was water touched, and nothing ever bad had come from the water to her. A dip within it, then she was flat again, staring at him. It pooled in her mouth, soothing her split lip and sore jaw. It gave her strength, focus, and enraged her all at once. And while she couldn't move her head, his swam into focus and she attacked the only way she could.... she spit the remaining blood and water in her mouth at him violently. The slaps had stunned her, and the water had brought her back.

Eventide blue eyes glittered dangerously. They focused on him, no longer vacant and having retreated, but lively and ready to fight. Out of her mouth an obscenity poured. First one, then another, then another.... drawing from every word she'd ever heard ill-used in both the vineyards and Kumpanias. When she ran out of common, she switched to Air'riela. As the verbal assault came, her limbs twisted and writhed as she tried to get free. Back arched, hips twisted... she took ever ounce of freedom the device granted her and made it her own.

And then she blinked, went silent, lips parting slightly to pant. She was weak after the beating, and she blamed Dimitri for it. Clara.... she needed Clara.... The bardess took another breath, licked her lips, and followed Dimitri with her eyes. She was silent for a moment... for a long long moment. Then she spoke. "If you love her, truly love her like you say you do... how can you do this to someone who shares her face? Touching me, Dimitri... is like touching her. To strike me, its the same as striking her. We share the same soul, Dimitri... when all's said and done. When you... do this to me... you do this to her." Her voice was gravely from the screams, and an octave lower than normal. She hated using the words, but they were all she had. She was like Anora, that was the only card she had left to play in a horrific play of odds. Only this wasn't some backroom casino. No, in this game Dimitri held the cards. When she spoke again, her voice was a mere rasping croak. "And if you make me fear you... make me.... hate you.... she will too..." Avrie said, still undulating her limbs, having gained some on the leather that held her right arm down... not enough, but some. She felt encouraged.

As she moved, her skirt continued to ride up her legs, moving of its own accord and because of the inverted nature of the device moments ago. Long darkly-tanned bare legs were exposed above the stockings and boots. The long ugly gashes across one of her thighs was revealed to him. Avrie could feel the cold air on her taught healed over skin... she could feel the memory resurface of the cougar marking her with five claws in a slash across her thigh. It wasn't a bad scar, the Bardess had decided once it healed... but what she wondered, what she absolutely was scared to know was what Dimitri's scars would look like once he was done. As she laid there, strapped down, and now her long black hair soaking and tangled... was why now? Why again?

Somewhere deep inside of her a cat rumbled, watchful. But there was nothing it could do in her present state.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Dimitri raised a perfectly groomed ringed finger to his face. Closing his eyes he carefully wiped the spit and blood from his visage. A smile came to his lips and he paused for what seemed an eternity.

"I see nothing of you in your sister, besides the olive tint to your skin." He grinned showing his teeth, "Hitting you is the same as hitting any of your wretched and dirty kind....hitting her would be a crime...a crime I could never wash away." He stared vacantly for a moment and thought of her. The perfect form of her thighs, the sweet half smile she gifted him with sometimes.

"I am a member of the church my dear, the soul means little to me. That which will be quenched in the fires beyond, or embraced by such glorious beings." He paused, "I have seen such things Avrie, I have looked upon gods and demons and worse besides...." he paused, "I have tasted the milk of paradise and dined with the most exquisite voices you could ever hear, and I have heard te choirs of the immortals chant for the souls of all." He smiled, "They never spoke to me, and they will never speak to you you wretched concubine of hate." He snarled and sent a backhand across her face again. He found it easy and vastly pleasurable to hit her, to send specks of blood floating like rubies across the room. To see her face contort for one glorious moment and then see that same face dazed for a few moments more. He slapped her the other way with an open hand, he wanted to make her cheeks red and her lips swell.

He stood carefully and in one graceful movement removed his shirt, it fell down about him and left his mucled chest visible. Hairs coiled about it like burnished flame and for a moment he revelled in his pure perfection. He moved behind her stroking her head as he did so, carefully he took a handful of hair and pulled her head back, he wanted to make her whimper and he did this as he stared at her scars. A hand attentively squeezed her right buttock.

"Such firmness Miss Eventide such immaculate firmness." He smiled, "You will forgive me, I do not see your sister in your personality but she wont let me touch her, I shall content myself with you." He laughed, "Is your bottom like hers perhaps?" He carefully swung a leg over her and sat lightly upon her back, he put no weight upon her for now.

"I could cut certain nerves Avrie, I could make you like a child, unable to speak and merely able to dribble upon yourself." He paused, "I know criminals that would take responsibility, and I would never be blamed." He pressed a finger into her side, "Or maybe I will take out some organs." He gave her hair a little yank to make sure she was listening, "Or I could do my favourite, take your tongue." He giggled, "Nothing more funny than a woman who cannot speak, a pleasure for men everywhere of course, Venn would thank me I am sure." He tapped his lips and nodded, "To render the bardess mute, and with your fingers broken unable to play, would that not be a fitting punishment my perfect little bird."

"Will you please sing for me Avrie? You know that I love your voice, sing prettily and I wont take it from you." He sat down fully now placing a fair weight upon her back making it hard for her to breathe, he let his weight go off her for a moment and allowed her time to fashion a response.

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

This was not going well... not as she envisioned a first encounter alone with her soon-to-be brother-in-law. It was a dance on a deadly scale and one that threatened Avrie's well-being like nothing else could. She froze, grew angery... enraged even... when he listed off the things he could do to her... things he had no right to do. And some cold macabre place within her whispered that he had done those things to others. Fear rose like bile in her throat, but she pushed it back and began to shake. She hated herself for shaking... partially it was because her hair was now matted, tangled, and bloody... soaked through and through. Part of it was that the coldness of the holding cell coupled with her wet hair was making her body feel icy.

But mostly, it was his touch.

When Dimitri took off his shirt, Avrie couldn't for the life of her wonder why. Lying there, stomach down, held firmly in place... she could only see him out of the corner of her eyes, and frankly she'd stopped looking. She didn't want to see. When his weight settled on her back accompanied by another vicious yank, she gasped slightly... not because it hurt... but because it robbed her of breath. Dimitri was a big man and although Avrie was tall for a woman, she was still slim and graceful. "I'm not your fething horse...." She managed to say... not answering him about being asked to sing.

She'd told him no. And she wouldn't. No matter what. Dimitri was trying to break her, and she knew it... but it wasn't going to work. Not really. Hands bound to wood by leather gripped the wood, wishing for claws... or any other sort of weapon. In that moment of time, in that place, she knew if she got free... got half a chance... she'd kill him, even if she had to use her teeth to rip out his own throat. She'd do it... not not regret it.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Dimitri carefully removed a hold of her hair and took his great paws out widely, he bought them back in hitting each side of her head with careful precision, he knew what he was doing, he knew he would not hurt her properly but it would make her head ring and she would be rendered useless for a little while longer. He liked keeping her off her balance in this encounter it amused him and made things easier. After her earlier willingness to fight he was not risking her fury.

Carefully he began to wriggle his fingers up her sides, he wanted to see if she was ticklish and would laugh, there was a certain demented satisfaction in making a restrained girl in pain laugh, something totally absurd about it that appealed to Dimitri and his fragile mind.

"You may not be my horse but I may ride you yet my dear, we shall see how you behave." He was in no mind to rape her, he did such with pretty little things, she would be blood and messy, which would serve as an inconvenience.

When his tickling experiment was over he moved onto something new, resting his weight back on the small of her back for a moment he spoke in an airy tone reserved for idle conversation, "If you wont sing, perhaps tell me something else that will interest me, either something about Anora, about yourself or whatever, if it amuses or interest me I will let you keep talking, and if it does not I will hit you and break a finger, how does that sound?" He pressed a finger into the back of her neck to force a response.

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

Her head indeed rang with the abrupt violence. She gasped, bit her tongue, and started a new round of bleeding within her mouth. She didn't want to get hit anymore... she hated the abruptness of the attacks that she could tell were designed to not let her rest. Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes, while anger built up inside her. The man was a fething beast, and she knew she was going to vomit again if she swallowed any more of her own blood.

His hands on her side was too much. She began to kick and buck in the restraints, shrieking her anger and balling her hands into fists as if they weren't pulled to each side and carefully restrained. Ticklish. Indeed, she was, but it didn't manifest in laughter. She thrashed about, and shook her head violently, gritting her teeth and bringing the blood from her mouth out onto her lips as the strap across her head gave way and released her slender skull. Once her head was free, she arched her back, redoubled her efforts at the violent outburst, hoping more of the leather would give, and turned her head to glare at him.

Her eyes were furious, and if she could kill with a look the bard would have stared death into him and robbed him of life like the best thief that ever lived. Again her bloody lips parted, and despite the pounding in her head, angry curses erupted, hurled at him like a child would throw stones.... because she had no other weapons. She called him a coward, a bully, and a beast many times over. She called him names in every language she knew. And the more she fought, the more the bindings on her wrists and ankles tore into the skin, rubbing her raw even as she sought to throw the man off her back.

His finger on the small of her back had little effect on her. At this point, Avrie was so enraged there was no way she was going to settle for idle converstation, nor any fething storytelling hour Dimitri seemed fit to declare. "Kill me you fething bastard, if thats what you want... I won't ever ever bard for you... a song, a story... nothing. I'll give you nothing you want... ever." She said, then called up more bloody saliva from her mouth and spat it at him.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Dimitri smiled and got off his bucking horse, he stood beside her for a moment and lifted his finger casually. Her head was again submerged and even with her bindings free all she would be able to do would be to move her head around in the water not remove her face from it.

Dimitri meanwhile moved over to the corner of the room, a chest stood idly there and he he opened it retreiving three cords of thin rope,a length of cloth and a leather strap that buckled at its back.

He moved back to her and watched the water slowly turn a watery red and waited till she thrashed around in desperation, this was no longer a small little dip, he wanted her gasping when she was released. When the thrashing came and Dimitri knew it would come, even she could not turn off human instinct she would be freed. As soon as she came up the young Duke would use the loop he had fashioned into one of the peices of thin rope to slip around her neck and carefully secure her back to the torture device. Her head would also be slipped back under the strap to provide extra support. He did not speak as he performed these actions, he merely did them as a necessity, he would not have her get free and gouge him, it was important he was in control, it was important he held the power over her.

To make her more secure the other peices of rope were for each of her arms and he would soon have the already secure arms even more secure. The leather strap and cloth he was more intrigued in. He resumed his position upon her back and pressed his weight onto her to make her gasp and loose her breath, the strap would be slipped over her eyes and buckled tightly behind her head, it would most likely not slip off and would encase her in darkness, frightening he hoped, perhaps she valued seeing what he was going to do, this way she had no chance.

The cloth was carefully placed into her mouth and tied behind her head to make a simple cleave gag, it would do little to silence her in truth. Dimitri did not wish to silence her, rather make her words mumbled and humerous. She would not be able to indulge in long rants or spit, she would speak in muffled sentances and that is how he wanted it.

Now she was in darkness he prepared a certain knout blow on her spirit. He moved before her as he had done before he slapped her last, he looked at her face and placed an open palm before it. His instructor in Natura had taught him this trick to disorientate an opponent properly. He slammed the open palm into her pretty face with one express desire....to break her nose and send blood streaming about and give her a nagging pain to focus her energies on. He knew where to hit so only the nose was broken and the crack would be clean and knew this would anger her but also scare her greatly.

Carefully he would move to her feet and sit cross legged before her right one. Carefully he unhooked her boot and slipped it from her, leaving her feet soft and open to his advances. He took the big toe of her right foot into his mouth and swirled his tongue about it. He thought indulging this particualar fetish would be amusing while she writhed in pain, he would savour the taste of her toe and relish the shape of it. And all the while he would listen to whatever noise she would make and let his suckling lips curl into a smile of frightening intensity.

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

She hadn't understood... not really. Never having been hurt really... never having lost true control of herself, how could she? Other than the relequis sickness and how lost she'd felt during all that, nothing compared to this. When Dimitri's weight left her, she was relieved feeling victorious, and then her world turned to water and she couldn't breath. Inverted, she slowly drowned, gasping for breath and thrashing as she tried to exit the water to find a breath. It wasn't instantaneous. No, not at all. She was quiet when he slipped the entire table down, submerging her head. She was quiet and peaceful until he didn't retip her... didn't free her from the water, and the trapped breath in her lungs burned. The thrashing started then, her will strong enough that she somehow thought she could reinvert herself on her own just by the force of it. Black hair buried her expression, spilled out over the bucket... tangled, matted with blood and other things... no longer resembling the luxurious mass it once was.

When he righted her, she was gasping, bringing in big breaths of air into her lungs, focusing on breathing and not indeed on what was next. His heel into her nose was a stunning blow that instantly sent pain ringing through her entire skull and down her back, out into her limbs and to the tips of her toes. It stunned her and she cried out in a long low moan. Tears sprang to her eyes and released, hidden by the water that streamed from her matted hair. Blood mixed with tears and flowed freely down her face. Her nose was a ruin, blackening her face almost instantly.

She gasped repeatedly, shocked by the pain and unable to react. He bound her neck, then her eyes... restrapping her head down. Face down she only felt the piercing pain of the broken nose and reacted in a soft wheezing whimper that didn't stop until he remounted the table, facing her feet and gave them his attention.

She froze. The pain disappeared, the fear... everything vanished as she felt the warm moisture of his mouth on her toe. This was.... something so alien to her, something she'd never even imagined. It was a violation of the deepest kind... and he knew it because he restricted everything... her sense of sight, hearing... even her ability to move or smell. All she had left was to focus on him. Horror infused her, redoubling the fear that washed over her. Within her mind, she turned and ran... Terror chased her and gave her a new form as she disappeared deep inside herself. No more... she'd suffer no more from him. Deep within her, the Cougar that was never far away called to her. It was a warm friendly sound, the cats scream deep inside her darkness, and Avrie fled that direction looking for safety, away from the soft swirling tongue and the feel of teeth dragging across her digit.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Things were turning our rather nicely now, any thought of later consequences of this binge of pleasure was now far gone from the mind of young Dimitri. Like a young babe he suckled upon her toe and forgot the ills of the world. Carefully he removed his mouth and rolled his tongue along her sole and up to her heel. This was glorious pleasure to Dim, not so much the foot itself though he had met men who found this in itself enthralling, for him it was the ability to suckle upon any part of a restrained woman. Some men with little imagination would have let their lips and tongue loose on obvious areas, women expected this, the foot was altogether more personal and untouchable simple because it was so unexpected.

He stood up and slowly moved round to her face again, that bloody mess carefully blindfolded and gagged and held in place. He leant forward and wrapped his lips around her broken nose, carefully he suckled this letting the thick dark blood slip into his mouth and mingle with the moisture. It produced a strange effect of dryness and a metallic taint to the palete but he felt instantly stronger and more alert, something about this personal intake of a fellow humans lifeblood made him excited. The most personal thing he could take from them almost.

He moved back and lifted up a little section of the encompassing blondfold to let her hear his words, gravelly and husky, "Your blood tastes wonderful, we are connected now you and I, blood to blood Avrie, you drank mine from the shoulder and I take it back from you, how glorious it is to be your blood brother." He let the blindfold snap back down and cloud her in deafness again.

He had to take a quick drink of water to remove the tatse from his mouth, it stuck to the inside of his jaw and hardened and had to be washed away. He left her to stew while he did this for a few minutes before returning to her, he carefully knelt by her side and pressed a finger into her right side. Then he stood and moved to her face and pressed a finger against her forehead, then one against her jaw. Then he got up and moved to her side again where he pushed a finger against her bottom. It was control and submission, she could not stop him from doing whatever he wanted and she could not anticipate him. The power clouded Dimitri and for a moment he imagined himself as tht divine.

Carefully he moved back to his box and rummaged for a moment, he returned with a small knife, the type used by the dubious surgeons in Vortex for operating, his own vague grafting experiments had taught him something of the human body but for now he had little interest in this. He moved to her feet and removed the other boot and then began to cut her skirt away from her body humming a happy tune from long ago, he hummer one of her songs, she could not hear it but he thought it fitting none the less.

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

Even though her mind found solace in the tawny fur of a Cougar who's voice lured her deep within, part of her still remained behind, protecting the innocence and bearing witness to what would come. In the darkness that part stood, like a warrior, boldly facing judgment and taking careful note for later. His attentions to her foot, the arch, and ankle were too much. His train of thinking was correct.. it was an unexpected intimacy that really shattered her stability.

When he fumbled with her bindings, and she felt his lips over her nose, a shudder ran through her. It unleashed more fear, and seemed to give permission for her fear to remanifest. She started to shake as he freed her ear and whispered into it.

Blood brother.

Gods. Bile rose in her throat, but she could not vomit because she'd choke. Tamping it down, the part of her that was a warrior stood, watchful and concerned. This was not going any way that would turn out good for her. Avrie knew it, and as Dimitri continued his attentions, she continued to shake. He moved about her, touching her with a finger unexpectedly, pressing it into her skin in places she couldn't anticipate... the silent witness felt fear again. It wasn't the essence... the spirit carefully enfolded in the wildness within her that began to whisper through chattering teeth...

It was someone small, young, and very scared... someone the warrior witness had no control over. As knife parted cloth and cool air washed over bare skin, revealing her body to him, chattering teeth parted as much as they could... and words muffled but obvious reached up to him. "Please... Dimitri... no... not this. This isn't what you want... It's not too late to stop this... Gods please stop this... Don't hit me... anymore." She said softly, muffled, desperately. Her mind ran wild, and imagined the knife missing the fabric, cutting the flesh instead. In her mind, the warrior envisioned her skin painted with blood and marked deeply with whatever he chose to carve into it. Reality blended into fantasy, and that which was more truly Avrie than anyone else retreated deeper into herself.

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

Dimitri cut the skirt away and pulled it from her revealing her naked lower body, perfectly formed buttocks and those thighs, slightly muscular and plump like the first apples of spring. He studied them with an informed eye for a moment before getting to work on her top even as she pleaded with him to stop her. The smile on his lips told of a small victory over her.

Carefully he removed the top and cast it aside leaving her completely naked and strapped to the table. Carefully he ran a hand from her left big toe all the way to her scalp to show his power over her. Then he went to gently fondle her right buttock and finally he reached between her legs and ran his finger over her womanhood. For Dimitri this was too obvious but he felt it needed to be done, to show he he was prepared to take her roughly if he so desired.

He carefully took a few steps so he could be in front of her face again, he pulled the gag down letting her speak properly and once again opened a little part of the blindfold so she could hear, "I am sorry my little flower, I dont want to hurt you but you lash out at me, now sing me a little verse of song and I wont hit you ok?" He spoke in a cooing way like a caring mother, "If you dont sing not only will I hit you again harder, I will leave you a scar that only the two of us will know about, a little personal touch from me. Would you enjoy that?" He let the blindfold snap back over her ear rendering her deaf again, but she had been warned. He took his knife and carefully pressed it to her throat, she would sing now he imagined, but had he broken her enough?

[Avrie Eventide Drega]

While she vowed never to sing for him, it was a whole different matter when she sang for her own heart and her own safety. Arcanists who were not Songsmiths had no idea what bards went through to achieve clara. Most mages sat quietly, meditating for ten minutes, mixing their ara and vis after pulling mana, and unleashing when their mind was firmly locked on the spell they wanted to form. Bards were the rogues of the arcane world. To find clara, their meditative state, often they just needed to sing. It took them away from the place they were in the physical and swept them onto the astral where they could pull essence from their plane and mix it to give them vis.

Knife at her throat non-withstanding, Avrie took a lung full of air and started to sing. It was a slow haunting song, one that fit the theme of the day, a woman trapped, a situation that was hopeless... desperate measures and a last resort at breaking free. She pulled essence, mixed her ara and vis as she sang, and was ready... well armed by the time the song was finished and the woman within it dead by her own hand.

Dead.

She'd rather die than comply to his wishes... and she hated herself for feeling that way. It only cost her a piece of her soul to sing forth for her own self, though truth was the song wasn't for him. He hadn't earned it, nor would he ever. Venn got her songs, her joy, all her love... he got her affections which ran deep and powerful. He felt her physical love, and basked in it when the bardess was willing to share such things with him... which was frequently. There life had known no pain... but this... this was different.

This was true pain.

But no more... the song had cost her everything, and gained her everything in return. All she needed now was a chance to use it... and she'd look for that chance, even as she settled calmly into her table prison,