Dran and Mist - Chapter Four - MoonDance
#4 of Transcender: Dran
(- Note to the person who approves/dissaproves submission: I think my pda garbled the submit, please set keywords to human, digimon, renamon, series. Also, please delete this message -Thanks. -)
Here I go again... Please rate and review!
Dran and Mist - Chapter Four
Xak: Whatever walks in my heart, will walk alone.
Trine moved with the rapidity that one would expect of her race, bowed low, hands held out to either side as if she were trying to take off, the stream of air whistling through her claws. The moon was full, casting a perfect silhouette over the buildings over which she traversed, free running over the uneven surfaces, the entire world from here tinted grey, reflections on the gravel and concrete as ledges blocked the bright streets. A gap loomed ahead, nothing visible in the darkness of the alleyway below, her eyes glimpsing the world beneath as she dove over it, rolling forward through the air as she covered the distance, shoulder thudding into the gravel before she gained her feet, skidding for purchase before pausing for a moment. She was panting, short of breath, face set into a grimace as a small amount of blood dampened the bandages covering her chest, work she had identified as Haze's before scarpering for her errand. She looked up, pressing a hand against her chest, the sea spread out to one side, the distant mountains of the other disguised by the darkness and mist. The harbour bent around in a perfect crescent, perhaps two thirds of it heavily urbanised, the far end however a mass of cliffs and boulders, the sea close enough for its crashes to be heard as it impacted the rocks. "I can still smell him... Not far... Now...." She dropped back into position, passing over the steep onwards incline of the roof before her by sliding her claws over the lead tiles covering the building, leaving three narrow streaks for each hand as she slid downwards, the screeching noise that accompanied ignored as she pushed off at the base, falling into space. Using the opposing wall of the second alleyway to her advantage, she pushed off as her jump forced her into the halfway point, a reverse spin before she landed in the silence. The cliffs were ahead, the dense city holding no middle ground as buildings ceased on the outskirts, the concrete grey fading to green, grass spread up to obsidian cliffs, a sound drifting through the still air, the music providing some alleviation to the heavy atmosphere. A harmonica playing some lonely melody, a silhouette sitting atop the cliffs, playing his tune into the light winds, the human slowly fading as a void opened around him, violent currents of air whistling for a moment, the rising mist of the water below sucked into a spiral of a vacuum before ceasing. The music faded into nothingness.
The gatomon closed her eyes, standing behind where the man once had, pacing up to the ledge as she paused to look up to the sky, the moon huge, each individual crater visible to her from the earth's surface. Her foot nudged something, cause for her to look down and survey the case, tan in colour, perhaps only two feet in width and slightly longer than her four foot frame, the symbol of Arc himself marked in black to the front; Three entwined arcs surrounded by seven outspread wings. Curious she crouched over it, pockmarking the leather surface as she released an iron clasp, the case opening, a weapon resting on the silk within. "Joyeuse... The twentieth... Sypher..." A sword, thicker than a rapier yet bearing some elements of a longsword, an exact four feet in length; The blade was brilliant heliotrope, the cutting edge golden, the trim continuing into its elegant guard, reminiscent of a fencers weapon. The handle itself entwined with golden wire, twisting around the crimson handle, a short chain of silver, alike to something you would find on a necklace, connecting it after an inch to a small marble sized orb of white, its contents swirling mysteriously. A small note lying beside it, text illegible in the night.
The cat closed the case, hoisting it onto her back as she struggled with the awkwardness of the package. She took a few steps before dropping to a knee, sweat beading on her cheek as more blood escaped her wound, the growing stain covering more of the bandages, "Hah... Haze is gonna be... Pissed..." She collapsed.
*****
"An emergency has come up - we're taking care of it - should be back by sunrise - Haze."
Dran sighed, dropping the note back onto the table before wheeling around to survey the rest of the room. It was clearly the home of two men, managing to hit the stereotype of littered clothing about the archways, snack foods all over everywhere and an unbelievable quantity of alcohol covering the kitchen surfaces, from beers and lagers to spirits, even a series of distillation equipment deriving what appeared to be absynth, the liquid dripping steadily into a pint glass. The room resembled their own, merely far more messy and lacking the cracks and bullet holes, "He could have been a little less vague..." He swept his arm across the table, guiding the empty cans of what looked like worthingtons into the bin, noting a large quantity of bloody bandages in the trash, "And didn't your mother ever tell you not to go through other people's stuff?"
Mist grinned, struggling with the clasp of a large steel case lying atop the coffee table, "I just want to see what's inside." She grunted as she pulled it loose, ignoring her tamer who was filling two glasses with some dark brown liquid, a delicate white head forming as he tipped the vessel up to the can. The case opened slowly, some hinge system forcing it into an L shape, Dran walking up to stand behind her as the contents were revealed.
"Holy shit..." He pressed a cold pint into her hand, crouching down over the assortment of items: A greatbow, separated into two halves, unstrung, at one side, half buried under a pile of pistols and ammo. Even some specialist bullets, tipped with green, scattered over the equipment like some odd garnish. A small sheet of metal split the case into two sections, the other full of- "My money says this is Haze's half... Damn, that's a lot of porn." He picked up a few likely cases, glancing over their reverses, giggling under his breath while sipping his drink, some memories of his brief student life returning to him.
Mist looked down at her own glass, dipping a finger into the froth and licking it off curiously before raising the drink to her lips, tipping it back and taking a few long gulps, "Urgh..." She cringed, "It's bitter."
Dran glanced up, "It gets better." He dropped back onto the sofa, leaving his digimon to stare confused at the series of dvd's. Though she couldn't grasp the language, her expression over the images was priceless; "We've got a night to blow before they come back," he plucked a disk from her hand, "Fancy watching some TV?"
*****
Haze lowered himself to a knee, dropping the shoulder pack to the ground as he rapidly examined the cat. *I leave the room for five minutes and... For love of all that is alcoholic...* The night had yet to wane, perhaps only a few hours had passed since her excursion, the moon now suspended mere inches above the horizon, providing the only light out away from the city, the streetlamps and neon of the area spread out below them, the cliffs a final rocky perch overlooking everything. He sighed, shifting her from the case on which she lay, ignoring it as he slid a syringe through the seal of one of the vials he had withdrawn from his pack - the liquid within drawn up into the vessel, remaining for a moment as he flicked the head before administering the serum. "Xak's gonna kill me when he finds out that I've used some of his formula... Still - at least she's out of danger." A breeze stirred his fur, the faint whistle against the crevices of the cliffs, the refreshing sea spray that it bought to his face, "What a place to come though... I wonder what's in the-" Footsteps, each one almost a clank as metal thudded against the rock of the ground.
The renamon paused, mid-reach, turning as he rose to face that which moved towards him. A lone figure, perhaps only five feet in height stood, framed perfectly by the moon behind. A helm covered the mans head, at least he assumed it was a man, the front sloping forwards, reversing soon afterwards to lock about the neck, the back tapered upwards, twin hornlike spirals tracing down its back. The rest of the body was clad in some close fitting mail, jet in colour to match the helmet, thin linings of gold covering the edges of each major piece of armour, laced about the shinguards and across the shoulders, spiralling across in some elegant wing shaped pattern across the back. Held across his front, a thin pole of some coloured wood, a shade of aquamarine quite unsuiting to the other attire, the weapon about six feet in length and perhaps two inches wide, bearing a hexagonal shape from top to bottom, each side laced with some markings. The thing that forced Haze into a combat posture however was the rune over the breast of the other, inlaid with crimson, a complete X, small dashes between each point as if trying to trace out a square about it. The symbol of Cross. He spoke, "I only came for the case. Surrender it and no blood need be shed."
The renamon glanced down at Trine, a paw still clutched about her burden, "Go blow yourself." He moved to stand between the agent and his friend, sliding each of his palms over the back of each hand in turn, squeezing about the wrists as if putting on a pair of gloves. He rose his arms into a guard, left back and parallel to the ground, right vertical, fingers spread; His feet little over a shoulder width apart, Haze staring at the eye slits of the other as if trying to kill him with the power of will alone. "Cross are all the same - Slavers, thieves, murderers - I won't deal with scum like you."
He sighed, the sound projected through the helmet and emerging almost as a whistle, "Fine." He drew the staff close to the centre of his body, giving it a swift rotation before holding it to his side. "Then I'll take it by force." He strode forwards, each step closing the distance between himself and his quarry, relaxing his grip to hold his weapon with one hand alone.
*I can't even beat a class one and now I'm facing Cross... At least it will be over quick.* Haze couldn't help but think pessimistically, yet his rage got the better of him, the renamon performing a jump the moment he was within range, placing a hand atop the staff as he swept it in a solid downwards arc, pushing off as it whistled below him. He swept a claw across as he fell downwards behind the attack the blow merely skidding across the metal, his over enthusiastic follow-through sending him into the reverse of the pole as the man turned back to a facing, the weapon slamming into Haze's cheek, knocking the renamon away. He rose in a crouch, grabbing the end of the pole as it rose up against his face, a grimace crossing his face as his jaw ached. The voice came again, "Ready to give up?"
"Nev-" the pole moved so suddenly, it was almost impossible to predict, the wood becoming thinner, longer, the point smacking against his skull, blasting him back to lie groaning besides the gatomon as the weapon returned to its original shape. A pair of feet entered his vision, his strength fading, he grabbed an ankle with a paw, receiving a swift slam of the wrist in return, rolling him over onto his back. "No..."
He grabbed the case, opening the clasp tracing the finger of the mail backed glove across the hilt, kicking the case over the edge as he pulled the weapon out. There was silence for a moment before the faint crash of it shattering on the rocks below. A paw raked out suddenly, pulling at his wrist before brushing against the blade, the reaction immediate. The armoured man jumped back, using his weapon to perform a reverse vault by extending it into the stonework, narrowly evading a slash, the blade having somehow wound up in the hands of the renamon, the hairs of his body glowing a faint white at the tips, Joyeuse in hand, reflecting the moonlight like a shard of the heavens itself. He sighed, watching his reflection in the eyes of his opponent, each glowing like a diamond. Placing the staff behind himself, sliding it into the thin strap of leather that supported it, "My interest in you has ended."
Haze readied his sword, an odd thrill of energy shooting up his arm, an odd series of thoughts and feelings filling his mind in the form of a dull murmur, "What?"
"You've reacted. The sypher is worthless to me now." A void was already forming about his body, the black blocking out the stars as he faded, "Until we next meet."
"Wait-!" But he was already gone. "Sypher...?"
*****
Mist slid her pint back onto the table, the liquid swilling about before some overcame its confines and slopped over the surface. She grinned mischievously, glancing between the flickering images and her tamer, manifesting her thoughts into the form of a pounce. He had been rising to draw another glass, fully surprised that the renamon was this much effected after only a can and a half, his chuckle catching in his throat as she thudded into him, the human pinwheeling his arms franticly for those few brief seconds before he thudded onto the carpet. "I hear beta-males are in these days."
Dran snorted, slowly raising an arm and tracing it about her side, feeling a small amount of tension leave her form; using this brief break to push her off him, rolling with her to pin her and emerge ontop, "I'm no beta." He grinned his triumph for a few seconds before bowing his head down, connecting lips, his partner almost whimpering through it, folding her arms about his neck.
"Give it time - I'll break you eventually." She slid her hands across his back, circling his midriff before slowly allowing them to drift to the front, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt before he saved her the hassle by slipping out of it himself. A palm, resting on her stomach was slowly sliding downwards, brushing against the growing wetness, drawing an exasperated grown from her as it slid over the outer lips, held still over her as she tried to grind against it. Though her talk of 'breaking him in' was always just a game, the brief battle fought half heartedly, she always found some joy in how she could work him up into a position in which he would revel in his own dominance - Drawing a new side from her quiet tamer. As if taking pity, he inserted a finger with almost painful slowness, legs instantly spreading beneath him, arms squeezing him, his rhythm slowly gaining in tempo as her moans mingled with those drifting from the television. Another finger joined the first, even these struggling against the tightness, electing some guttural groan as a last crush of the vice brought with it a wave of fluid, her grasp slackening about him, finally releasing as she lay back.
Dran used the moment to release his belt, shuffling out of his trousers, his brief glance at the screen above forcing a smile as an idea surfaced. He dropped back to his knees, her legs instantly surrounding him, crossing at his lower back s she tried to pull him in, some trace of excersion present in her face, blushing as though almost embarrassed. He reached down, resisting the physical and mental urge and wrapping his arms about her instead, pulling upwards to clear her of the ground, pushing the body against one of the marble arches, sliding himself in with the same thrust, completely rather than just edging in, some mix of pleasure and pain for its receiver. "So..." He had paused, arms hooked beneath each knee, pinning her against a wall, all movement deprived as he took control of her weight. "Who's the beta now?" The human ground against her, withdrawing almost all the way, only his head remaining within, the thickness about the centre of his member throbbing, only a moan and a murmur drawn as she tried to pull him back through contraction alone. "Say it."
"I - Am!" He hammered each of her words home with a thrust, adopting an almost teasing slowness, feeling the clasp of an orgasm just through this - riding through and increasing his speed. The human pulled himself closer, crushing her knees against her breasts as he continued, glancing down into the fur, matted with sweat and her own fluids, even a little blood, her own head supported by her breasts as she watched him penetrating her, that same hunger reflected in her eyes. He couldn't help it - it was almost like being drawn into a trance, keeping up that steady rhythm, trying to count each orgasm as it came, feeling his own slowly approaching as he increased his pace even further, the quivering renamon groaning to some high pitch.
*I fucking knew it.* The next room over, Haze had dropped the cat back onto the bed, closing the window through which he had entered as quietly as possible. He leaned his weapon against the wall, the murmurs invading his mind ceasing as he released the handle. Getting through town with a blade and a slashed up cat without notice wasn't exactly easy and - he moved his head to the side, stealing a glance through the archway, *Bastards stole my porn!*
A roar clawed at his throat, Dran unable to prevent it as it escaped his lips, burying himself up to the hilt as he filled his mate with that which their passion had wrought. Groans giving way to mere pants as she held him in place, arms resting limply about his shoulders. Intending to return them to the couch, the human stepped back, still supporting her weight, failing to register the damp patch of carpet; for the second time he fell back, though upon this occurrence a new reaction awaited. The sound again, almost like a crash of a weight upon metal as the pair shifted, falling back instead onto the leather and pillows of the sofa - Dran's foot thudding and pushing against something hard as they rested.
The case fell to the ground, slowly beginning to close on those automatic hinges, yet from the force, a folder suspended above Xak's half of the case became dislodged, spilling its content over his assortment of weaponry. Illuminated briefly by the light of the room was a photograph; a green landscape spread out behind the two figures, the light of the sun just visible through the trees, blue sky overhead. Xak - Hair longer, styled back into spikes, contrasting with the suit that he wore. A smile unlike any that the pair had seen in the man before adorning his face, accompanying the blush covering him as the female renamon beside him kissed his cheek, white dress stirred by some wind; her hand bearing a ring to match his. The case closed. Nobody saw the image.
~ T3A) ~
This is the shortest so far - I decided to focus on Haze for a while, since Im covering Xak later (And his past will induce some metaphorical violin playing for sure). I think I might have been a bit mean to the other human, but still, his path is an interesting one. Again, please rate and review ^.-