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I think 'a little later than expected' has become my signature opening by now... Anyways, here it is, enjoy.

Dran and Mist - Chapter Eight

Dalmia: Your heart will become the darkness. The shadow that swallows everything.

The room was a mirror image of that used by Dran and his mate across the hall. The warm atmosphere however was lost in half darkness, a long black garment laid out over the bed, the places only occupant crouched in the corner. The case was open, the items within displayed to the world. Xak tapped his fingers against the steel edge, the repetitive sound of metal on metal as his wedding ring impacted provided a subtle metronome for his thoughts. He held up a bullet, surveying the silver in the limited light before slowly clipping it into a magazine. Several more followed, the finished articles placed into the leg pockets of a pair of black jeans, more specialist ammunition attatched to his belt. He moved with practiced efficiency, each firearm checked, cleaned and clipped together, placed in a growing pile beside him; the only sound other than the dull clicks of his equipment was his own slow breathing. His half was now empty, yet he failed to close the lid, instead foraging beneath the silk lining, retrieving a photograph. He stared at the still image for a few moments, a pained expression crossing his face. His hand shuddered as he made to return it, instead it found its way into a back pocket.

He turned while rising, lifting each of the items that he had retrieved and moving to the bed, securing them to the material by small tan straps. He looked up as he worked, fumbling blindly as he went. In the opposing wall, Joyeuse was buried halfway, the point of the blade embedded enough to pin a small note and image to the cream surface. The white bauble swang on its chain from the end, splitting and reflecting light about the room, flecks crossing the picture. It was Haze, chained and unconscious, bruised and cut, laid up in some cell. The message was simple, "Third lower hall. Room Twenty-one. Eleven O'clock." signed by the symbol of Cross. The crimson seal couldn't help but send an all too familiar chill up his spine. He rose his bow, glancing between it and the oversized pistol that he had used when he and the renamon had broken into headquarters. The logical choice was the gun, he knew it yet for some reason he couldn't quite resist... The weapon was unclipped, the string remaining attatched as he clipped the two parts of the frame onto the back of his belt. The pistol remained in his hand.

He swept the leather from the bed, the light obscured for a moment, the trenchcoat whipping about his body as he put on the garment. *Trenchcoat, check. Shit load of guns, check.* He pulled a pair of shades from his pocket, determined to at least maintain a little style, even if he did look like he was trying to rip off Neo. *Deathwish...* His leg rose, boot slamming home into the wood as the force busted the door open, *...Check.*

*****

The glass fell, almost in slow motion, a brief interlude to the pair before the wine stained the carpet crimson, a small tinkle of the break audiable as the vessal cracked. Trine however saluted the air with the bottle and downed its remainder before continiuing her assault on Mist, pinning her against the wall as they met in a kiss. The taste of the berry of the wine was quite tangiable, the scent of an earlier rosè detected on her facefur, the combination a true treat for the senses as she slipped her tongue into the mouth of the renamon. The empty bottle slipped from her grasp, its fall cushioned by the duvet that had earlier dropped to the floor. She moved with her natural subtlety, being in her angewomon form she was now on par with her partners size, capable of greater feats of dexterity as she squeezed a breast softly, fingers spread about it. Mist groaned, a combination of the thought that once again she had been seduced by drink and Trine and the sensation of the bare flesh of her partners leg brushing between her thighs as she moved forwards. Her knees were weak, the barrage employed by the angewomon forcing her to melt into the arms of another female; unable to form any advances of her own as a hand slowly traced its way down her stomach, teasing its desired response from her as it traced against wet fur. The feeling was electric, her body giving a quick jolt as she tried to buck against it, yet Trine failed to press on, instead taking a step back, disengaging the renamons protesting arms as she knocked her down onto the bed. The angel stood alone in that semi darkness, helmet already removed, she now began to shed the remainder of her clothes, unclipping her breastplate; the cool of the air conditioning drawing forth a small shiver as the fans current provided its invisable caress. Her greaves, her gloves, all armourment was pealed away as she put on a show for the waiting renamon who even now was making an attempt to get herself off. She surpressed a chuckle, having tried such methods with Haze before, she had never met such enthousiasm, moans accompanying every movement she made. The rose ribbon was last, rather than simply letting it trail behind her as most of her race did, she had elected to entwine its length about her arms, now slowly untwisting it as she lent back, allowing the rooms pale lighting to play across her chest, the look almost ghostlike.

She rose the material, pulling and twisting at it with a skill that demonstrated earlier exploitation as she formed two loops, moving forwards to the beds occupant. Her hands were removed from her sex, much to Mist's displeasure, instead pulled into the ribbon, the loops tightening about her wrists, the two ends tied about the bars of the headboard, forcing her to lie back; her arms together and over her head as the angewomon crawled up the bed, purposely brushing up against the damp as she did so, the body below tensing up. Her legs pinned the renamons together, the other female unable to move as she finally set about what her partner was wimpering for. *God, she's so easy to tease...*

She reveled in her control over the situation, forcing Mist into the submissive position which she craved while at the same time employing the dominance that she wished to impose over Haze. *Hey, why the hell am I thinking about him?* She jerked her head to dislodge the troubling thought, instead leaning into another kiss, the squeeze of her legs stopping the feverant motion of the renamon as she persisted in her attempts to pleasure herself. Hands sought fur covered breasts once more, but rather than the light, brief motions of the past, she utilised her new position, tracing her palm against them, mentally mapping their size and firmness; drawing a gasp from the renamon as she tweaked a nipple. She smiled, she was learning exactly what pleased the other female, gaining information that she may well barter with Dran, for an apt exchange of course. Broken from the kiss, she slowly slid lower, tongue extended, tracing down Mist's neck, still able to taste the earlier spill of wine, finally pulling up against a breast, placing lips about it while she toyed with the other, each of the nubs like steel, the breath of her partner fluttering as she continiued. *It must be torture for her... All this attention and she can't get herself off.* The assumption was correct, even trapped in such a position she was desperately trying to find enough space to grind her legs together, the effects of those hands and a mouth far more attentive than a males was driving her insane. "P-please, don't - don't tease me anymore!"

Trine failed to take pity, she would draw it out for as long as possible for the intoxicating feel of power over another alone. A smile played across her face, slowly letting her off hand trail down the renamons stomach, allowing herself a brief trace across the slit before she slid it up to its origional position, leaving a trail of fluids. Mist almost screamed with frustration. She was so easy to toy with, her prior encounters even when teasing were never this agonisingly slow, every motion seeming to take minutes, each downwards movement another dissapointment until finally her partner shuffled lower, releasing her legs. She spread them eagerly; she could feel just how wet she had gotten, never having been quite this desperate for release, even during her minor faux-heat, droplets of her need pearling in the matted fur. Hands closed high about her legs, slowly brushing against the fur, gliding over the slick until pausing below her, thumb brushing against the clit as a single finger slid into her. Built up by such a period of anticipation, the effects were virtually instantanious, her vision swimming as the feeling of being taken in such a way overtook her. Unable to resist, Trine bowed her head, withdrawing her hand and hooking it about a leg as she lowered her mouth onto the renamons sex, her hand now providing extra attention while her other found its way to her own need, pumping at the speed that Mist had once begged for. Her experience showed from the sounds alone, moans themselves broken into shuddering half formed dialect. It was clear that she was attaining her desired reaction, the renamon trying to grind against her face yet it ended almost too quickly, the pent up desire resulting in a spray of fluids. The body went limp, twitching as Trine continiued to work, draining all that she could from the second smaller orgasm that this teased from her.

She removed her hand from herself, its additional support giving her the strength to rise, smiling as her cheeks shone with the liquid drawn from the other female, yet the angewomons mood failed swiftly. "I don't fucking believe it..." She grabbed the duvet from the ground, pulling it up to bed level; the bottle dropped earlier rolling across the floor, stopped underfoot by the man unnoticed by the angel, "She fucking fell asleep... And I still havn't-" She was pinned in an instant, a hand grasping at the back of her neck, not painful but forceful enough to stop her from turning. Her panic however was almost instantly replaced by another sensation as a finger slid into her wetness, probing gently as she caught a familiar scent. Another finger was added, drawing a moan from her as she struggled to rise from beside Mist's sleeping form. All however proved futile as an increase in speed forced her to submit. She was close, she could feel it, the nights release coming from an unexpectant source but coming non the less. She cried out as she came, released from binding arms and allowed to fall onto her back before she looked up at Dran.

He grinned, "I couldn't quite resist." He dropped his jacket, starting to remove the remainder of his clothes as the angewomon stared.

"How long were you watching?" She removed the ribbon from Mist, tossing it aside.

"Sometime after you tied her up..." Stripped down to his boxers he kissed the forhead of his mate, pulling the cover over the renamon while leaving enough slack for Trine. "You didn't even hear me come in over the noise you had her making." There was silence for a few moments before a hand stuffed itself down the front of his underwear, forcing a sharp intake of breath as fingers closed about him.

"Dran..." He disengaged her, almost deviod of reluctance, his loyalty quite austanding. Mist murmered something in her sleep, forcing grins onto both of them.

"Sorry... Not without her permission..." The angewomon pulled the remainder of the blanket over herself, visably dissapointed. She left a space between them, looking up expectantly to Dran yet he simply waved her off, moving over to the window. "You grab some sleep. I won't be long."

He waited for several minutes, staring out over the silver tipped waves until he was sure that both were asleep before dropping to a knee, clutching at his heart as black feathers swirled about him. He touched the back of his neck finding that his seal was not only showing but burning. The world was spinning, his vision shot through with crimon and black, "It can't be this - urgh - soon... An empathetic reaction? But that would mean..."

*****

Xak stared around, tossing his shades aside, trying to find his way through the pitch black of the arena. The doorway had led him straight through a main entrance, yet with no lights, it was impossible for him to find the way back, let alone the way forwards. He staggered onwards reguardless, walking like a blind man, shuffling his feet along the floor until he finally reached something. His hand reached out, brushing against the concrete barrier, touching something sticky. He raised his finger, sniffing as he discerned the substance as fresh blood. *Haze...* Keeping his arm extended he made to follow the walls course, managing to keep cool reguardless of his surroundings, attempting to find some logical path. The voice that rang out however drew a shiver from him, "Ah, Jason... Glad you could make it..."

He turned, oversized pistol raised, recognition crossing his face. It had been over a year since he had last heard it yet the prospect of facing such a person in such surroundings was not a welcome one. It was as if the arena itself had become a past nightmare waiting to be relived. "You..."

Myotismon grinned, with the lack of light he was right at home, able to pick out every chord of rage in just that single word. It was music to his ears, inspiring such a strong feeling of hatred with just his presence. "You've been on quite the losing streak, havn't you?" His voice echoed about the empty space, locking onto it proving nigh impossible for even the battle hardened hybrid before him. He was choosing his words carefully, knowing exactly what would draw forth the reaction that he craved, "Your powers... Your friend... Your bitch-"

Xak roared, sweeping his weapon across the darkness and randomly firing. As the last bullet left the magazine, light errupted from his right side, the faux whip slamming his wrist, the gun falling from his grasp, spinning away unseen as he drew another, firing in the direction of the attack. There was silence, before the voice came again, lower and from his other side, "Oh, how I would have loved to watch the slut die..." He span, yet a fist impacted his back almost instantly, forcing him to a knee as laughter rang out from the shadows. He was simply toying with him, allowing his sadistic nature to take over as he relieved past greviances.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." Xak spat out the words along with a little blood. He got to his feet, placing his back to the wall as he tried to concerntrate enough to discern his enemy. Through the darkness and the knawing rage left in the wake of the myotismons words however, this was more than difficult. He removed a second weapon from the trenchcoat, a glock, waiting for an attack. Frozen in that space for what felt like minutes, desperately trying to slow his ragged breathing, his fingers twitching as his need to kill surfaced. An idea formed, fragile yet viable. He pulled the pin of a grenade, tossing it, a bright flash illuminating the area for a brief second as he covered his own eyes with his leathers. He siezed the opportunity, shooting wildly at the only free standing shape that had cast a shadow, hearing a grunt as he felt certain that he had at last gained a hit.

"Grisly Wing!" The attack was unavoidable, the bats felled by the hail of bullets mattered little due to the sheer quantity. Every bit of exposed flesh was bitten, slashed by claws, his shirt torn and bloody as the they continiued a seemingly unending assault. He screamed, the following Crimson Lightning tearing his trenchcoat away, the attack sheering through the bats and impacting his back as it repeatedly slammed against him. He dropped to his hands and knees, panting heavilly as the attacks ceased. Blood was leaking from a huge number of wounds, his regeneration rate far slower than Drans, the pain proved almost unbearable. A hand closed about his throat, yet he was too weak to resist, raised into the air and pinned against the wall as he began to choke the life out of him. The vampire drew close, licking a neck wound and grinning as he squeezed a little tighter before whispering into his ear, breath hot and reeking of death. "I might just visit that pitiful grave and try to find some of her data... You'll both make perfect little undead soldiers..."

Xak was rapidly losing his battle of self control. He could feel something clawing at his stomach yet knew that without her he had no chance of controling it. His whole arm was throbbing, the infection spreading about his body like a poison, his breath emited as a fine mist of pain as his eyes started to glaze over. A symbol slowly began to materialise on the back of his neck, the three arcs, etched in black and rotating of their own acord. The marks sealing his own inner Bio-Angel. From a spiral, they now broke apart, a sound like a steel chain snapping resonating in his ears. He could see now. The whole arena was in focus, the stands, a blank screen, the face of Myotismon, triumph written across it, yet it now twisted into a combination of fear and pain as his own hand snaked down, disengaging his choke and slamming into his chest, knocking him back.

It was like walking in a dream. He could see what he was doing but could control none of it, feel the instincts of the beast that he now was yet also his own. Great black wings errupted from his back, spreading about him, flicking to block what felt like a feeble crimson lightning. His arms were before him, holding the bow, unclipped from his belt, the drawn arrow glowing with a ferocity that he had never quite managed as a human. He released it, the bolt striking the shoulder of his opponent, hitting with explosive foce as it slammed him into the opposing barrier, his body sliding down it as a groaning lump, blood spreading over his clothes from the perfect hole in his shoulder. He stepped forwards, drawing a second arrow, its power three times that of the first, the missile scorching his hand as he pulled back.

Something ice cold touched the back of his neck. A single claw touching the center of his markings, the scattered spiral instantly contracting, reforming. His broken digivice screeched as if it itself was experiancing pain. He fell forwards as everything faded to black. His body had returned to normal before he even touched the ground, his wings fading, eyes returning to their own shade. Only a few black feathers lying atop him remained. Dalmia slipped her arm back into its gauntlet, securing its straps with practised care. Myotismon pulled himself to his feet, cradling his arm as he stared through the slit of the visor at his savior. Slowly he walked up to her, passing and continiuing as she took a step towards the human. She swayed for a moment, hand outstretched as she reached for him something like longing could be glimpsed in her eyes before she tore herself away and provided support for her defeated comrade.

*****

The portal shimmered into life, the swirling combination of blacks and greys projecting a limited source of light for the back room. Some coffin shaped device was leaned against a wall, sealed and beeping every few seconds, a constant noise against the whistle of the gate. She lifted her pole from besides the portal, giving it a swift rotation before slamming it into the side of the machine besides her. Its beeping faded along with the weapon. Laid across one of the benches was Haze, chains securing him in place, unconscious and ignored by the pair standing before the gateway. Myotismon's cape fluttered slightly as he turned to face the armour clad female besides him, wincing slightly as he touched the bandage across his shoulder. "I take it this marks a debt repaid?"

She nodded slowly, "You have my gratitude."

"You know, you could aways come with me. I'm retiring someplace lovely and cold... Icey wastelands, vicious monsters, a nice little village or two to terrorise... Tempted?" He chuckled.

"My place is here." She moved over to the bench opposite their captive, lifting a small silver scanner, the one belonging to Haze, placing it into one of the pouches of the discarded belt. She was aware of the vampires eyes on her back as she continiued to pack the remainder of the items that she had taken, finally clipping his digivice to its side.

"I hope you know what you're doing..." He paused directly infront of the portal, detirmined to have a final word, "The next time we meet... We'll probably be enemies." He stepped forwards and was gone, the room returning to darkness for a few moments before the portal reactivated.

Dalmia dropped the belt onto the renamon, taking care to swiftly unlock the chains as she went. She turned away, taking a few steps before pausing at the gateway as the Myotismon had, taking a final look at his stirring form. "I'm sorry Haze... But you must do what I cannot." She stepped forwards and dissapeared into the portal.

~ Arc Heliotrope ~