[Argus] Bed of Roses [PG13]

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] It was disheartening to find the house in such a state of disrepair. One would think they'd have fixed the place up, if only to preserve such a historic site. Of course, they didn't. That was just fine, however, and it only took him a few days to polish up the interior to where it was almost sparkling even though - as we all know - carpets do not usually sparkle. Although, didn't people usually start with the outside of the house? It didn't make much sense to him, since he saw the interior much more often than the exterior. Besides, the shanty exterior gave it character. Maybe it would even attract more guests. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet had many visitors at all. This saddened him, though he just assumed it was a case of people not realizing that there was a house out there at the edge of the world. But maybe - gods forbid - they were avoiding him? Nah, couldn't be. Who would want to avoid him? He'd given no one any reason to. Not really. Unless they didn't enjoy the constant flirting or something. Some people were so close-minded. Be that as it may, it left him with no one and nothing to do tonight, so rather than go on a lovely stroll, he settled on curling up under the covers in his bed. It didn't get nearly as much use as it should, which was a shame. It was a very comfortable bed, complete with knockoff silk sheets that, he agreed, felt just like the real thing when they brushed against his bare skin. It gave him yet another reason to go without clothes. With a sigh, he stretched out across the bed, laying on his stomach, and snuggling up to the pillows. He held one of those fancy, new, portable music player things and was flipping through the songs far too quickly to be able to hear much of any of them. Although, all of those one second songs did come together and make a very interesting melody. Maybe he'd get something better if he shuffled the songs... And why not? It wasn't like he was going to sleep anytime soon. Or ever. One of the many perks of being a god was an uncanny ability to never become tired. It was practical, he supposed. How could he do his job so well if he had to keep stopping to get some rest. True, he did that anyway... But he didn't have to. It was like a drug. You don't need to do it, but it was fun to do every once in awhile. Actually, no, because he doubted he'd ever become addicted to rest. How about this: it was like gay sex. There's really no need to do that, unless you were some kind of bizarre alien that could lay eggs in your lover's stomach, although even then you wouldn't need to necessarily have sex to do that. It would be more fun than just ripping open the hosts stomach or something though. Probably not as messy either if you did it right. And that metaphor really went off on some weird tangent. All it was meant to say was that now he rested, though he had no need for it. There probably wasn't going to be any gay sex. Probably.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=655064] Such a lovely night... A night like every other ,and yet not so. The stars were just a bit removed from their former positions. The sky just a little warmer with the coming of the new season. The grass just a bit older and closer to the shriveled brown husks left to fertilize the new seed. It was a night of nights - so unique, so special... Just like every other night. Coyle crawled along the surface of the island, bored to tears, as was his usual state. Not that he was crying, but had he the capacity to, he may have felt the urge to squeeze out a tear or two. Who knows, maybe if he felt that twinge of sorrow instead of the yawning boredom then he'd be more entertained? But such questions were left unanswered and unpondered. He'd tried that whole self analyzing thing before, and found it useless and irrelevant. He was nothing and everything - flawed and perfect. He wasn't particularly anything, really; and it got boring to think about if you ever mustered up the intellect to think about those kinds of things. So he didn't, and instead of thinking and wasting his vast consciousness on some stupid universal truth, he did things. Fun things. Things that most people didn't find fun, but to him were like a day at the carnival, complete with the cotton candy and everything. Hair was a lot like cotton candy, if you thought about it - and this Coyle had given a great deal of thought to. This, and things like that odd house that now emanated light and sound in such a way that could only mean one thing: People were in there. Now, that's not to say the lights were on and someone was screaming, but it seemed easier to describe what he saw as light and sound. He heard the life, and saw the traces of it. A being of great power, no less, so that left an extra bright trail behind. Coyle followed that trail in through the side wall, gliding gently through thin air and landing oh so delicately on top of a very nice table. His catlike form turned, looked around to sense more of this thing he noticed. He opened his mouth, like a cat wanting to increase its ability to sense its prey, then closed it with a snap. He knew that smell. "Argus." The sound rolled smoothly off his long, rough tongue. It betrayed nothing of his form, but spoke exactly as it would if he appeared human. This lovely sound echoed coolly through the rooms of the house, heralding his eventual approach. And he did approach. Right up to the bed, he approached - tail swaying this way and that like a massive, sleeping serpent. When he reached the foot of the bed, this huge cat curled, changed, grew pinker and softer. Coyle stood up straight, smiling beautifully at what he saw there. "I missed you." So simple, but he knew for once the volume of this phrase would not escape his listener. "....ohhey, we don't have to wear clothes over here?" Well, suffice to say Coyle didn't wear clothes normally, but he had to shift to look like he did. People didn't like naked people, for some reason. And this he knew through really fun experience.

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] As the music consumed his being, his eyes drifted closed, thought not in sleep. It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen. Exhaling a long breath, he ceased breathing momentarily, thus giving him more time to feel and listen to the house. He was very close to this old house, indeed. It told him when someone entered or left, or where in the house they were. This was mostly because the house was so damn old and the floorboards creaked when just the slightest amount of pressure was applied to them. Still, there were certain things that even the house could not detect. "I've been waiting for you, lover." His eyes fluttering open, he sat up suddenly, tossing the music player to the side. Acting as if he hadn't spoken those whispered words, he looked down to the foot of the bed, a smile quickly spreading across his face. In one movement, the covers were cast aside, and he had locked Coyle in another strong embrace. "Coyle, you're back!" He said happily, nuzzling his neck, "Mm, I missed you too. So, so much." Moving back, he held him at arm's length, as if gazing deeply into his eyes would show him just how much he was missed. And why not? People often did that with their lovers... Looking into their eyes as they made a half-assed attempt at poetry. Hm. He should write a half-assed poem for him. That would surely convey his true feelings. "Hm?" He arched an eyebrow, stepping back and looking down at himself, "Oh. Of course not. Here, people can be whatever they want to be. Mine is a place of freedom. Of liberation. All that good ****." Clothing was so restraining. Rarely did he see a mythical wearing clothes, so why did they decide that clothing was a must as humans? Warmth, maybe, but most of the outfits he'd seen people wear couldn't do much for their comfort at all. Still, someone somewhere decided that people who wanted to go without clothes were freaks, and so he did his best to remain fully - or at least halfway - clothed while he was in public, though he still found clothing to be far too conformist for his liking. Uncomfortable too. He walked slowly around Coyle, inspecting him from all angles before coming up along side of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please, make yourself comfortable. You know you're always welcome here. In this room. With me." Walking past the bed, he leaned against a chair, using his eyes to pose a question that was something like "You like what you see?" "So, would you like anything? At all? Whatever you might want, I'm certain I can provide for you." That could be taken in its most innocent sense or, just as likely, in its naughtier, double meaning. It didn't make much of a difference to Argus, as he had an uncanny ability to make any situation even more fun. Or awkward. Although he wasn't sure if awkward would even work on this, handsome young man.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=655064] It was a little weird, don't you think? Most of the days and most of the time, such swirling, lovely poetry that was Argus' words would be his, and his unwitting victim would be the one to cringe and crawl and try to find a way out. Any way out. Not that Coyle wanted a way out, but as he leaned sweetly against the foot of the bed he was smothered within a hug. He wasn't all that huggable. Touching things in general wasn't all that fun to him. So it was odd. Odd that, for an asexual creature, the only motivation to be sexually motivated in any way was to do it to mess with other people. He was pretty sure Argus was not being messed with. Actually the opposite. So what was a guy to do? It was a difficult question, and even more difficult as he was being crushed by Argus. But eventually he found something of an answer. ...why the hell not? Did he have anything better to do? "So you don't say," the sweet, honeysuckle voice inquired about this clothes wearing thing. The usual jeans plus odd little tee shirt was sucked into his skin, leaving just the skin. Coyle was a very small, very lightly build creature - almost like a child. But, he decided a while ago that striking a balance between adult and child would have to do. Now, it would have been very funny to look on this fully grown man staring longingly into a child's eyes, and notice that the child himself was staring sweetly back, his eyes a brightly lit blood red. When Argus finally relinquished his grasp and began to pace leisurely around him, Coyle simply stood there, waiting, until Argus made his final circle and went to pose himself by a chair. Coyle himself simply collapsed into the bed, finding it a very nice place to "make himself comfortable." "You know," he said, thinking about the rest of what Argus said "That's a very generous offer..." He was standing by a chair now, posing himself, and Coyle curiously watched him stand there all alone. He must be very cold like that... People liked clothed for warmth, right? Mimicking this need for warmth perfectly, the lithe form curled himself gently into the silky sheets. "You look cold, Argus." he murmured. "And far be it of me to have all this warmth to myself..." He wriggled back into the pillows, resting his head there with his arms up behind it. "What kind of a guest would I be then?"

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] Argus wasn't a sexual being. Far from it, actually. Sure, he'd always willingly cuddle with another person all nice and warm beneath the covers... Whether they wanted to or not. But in the end if he had to check one of those little boxes on some sort of sexuality survey, he would identify himself as an asexual. That didn't make much sense at all, considering the way he acted, but Argus seemed to consist of dozens of glaring contradictions, which was very fun. He started chewing on his thumbnail as he looked down at Coyle, laying there all alone in his bed. He wasn't by far the first person he'd gotten into his bed, but he was surely the most exciting. Well, the most exciting one in the past ten years at least. So exciting that he wanted to savor the moment, so he made himself comfortable in his chair as he watched Coyle, biting his nail down much too far without noticing until he got that familiar taste of blood. Coyle was such a considerate guest, wanting to share the warmth with him even though he was pretty sure that Coyle knew that he wasn't cold at all. He smiled at him as he lightly bit his thumb before inserting it further into his mouth, sucking down every drop of the sweet blood. "That's so very kind of you." He said at last, his mouth still full. He rolled his thumb around in his mouth a few more times before he was certain that it had fully healed. Popping it out of his mouth, he stood up, licking his lips as he made his way over to the bed. This strange, genderless, though very pretty creature he could tell was very similar to himself in some ways, though it seemed Coyle lacked the ability to lust even more so that he did. How terrible. Everyone needed lust. That was what motivated just about everyone on this planet to do anything. Marriage, war, purchasing electronics... All motivated by one person's lust. It was such a vital thing to have in this world, and yet this creature didn't seem to have it at all. Well lucky for him, he could fix that. So he did that now, extending his bizarre lust-invoking powers right toward the adorable, young man. As he did so, he slid under the covers, moving very close to him so that he was able to move an arm around his back and bring him even closer to him. Now this was much more comfortable than sleeping alone. Not once did he stop the unseen lust assault. It may have been overkill, but when was overkill not fun? "Mmm, you have very pretty eyes." Saying this, he used his free hand to trace his jawline, reaching his chin and tipping his face up toward him. His face hovered mere inches above Coyle's as he smiled innocently down at him.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=655064] It was odd, that there were certain things that the beast did not possess - that he would be inferior to mere mortals in any way at all, but he was. Emotion, per se, was not the lacking element. Coyle, as far as he knew, could feel things just fine. What he was lacking, then, wasn't emotion, but the application of emotion onto something. And that he really had to work on. Childish insolence and a sweet smile could only get you so far in this world. Which is mostly why he acted - such an elegant art. He could lie with his feelings, his very body, and it was fun to play with... he was so good at it, after all. So when Argus took his sweet time, Coyle took his, flipping through the many little emotions he thought were appropriate to bring out just the right response. for him. A few things came to mind. Lust, and love, and some kind of mating thing or other. He'd watched enough National Geographic to get the gist, but they really weren't good at naming that thing. But he could do it. Sure. Why not? It was an actor's stroke like any other, and he found himself thrown into the role just as soon as Argus graced him with his proximity. Touching again. Let's see now... Such a pleasant, warm feeling came when Coyle was ushered closer, and he didn't mind, as he was doing much the same, as Argus traced the contours of his beautiful face, he traced the musculature of Argus. He was very well defined, very unlike Coyle, and the heat from his skin radiated powerfully from him as the thin, delicate fingertips explored the dips and curves. He was so... warm. Coyle smiled, changing the surface of his smooth, rounded features for Argus to retrace at his leisure. So warm. So close, and Coyle imagined himself very much carried away with his little acting game. Fanning his fingers out over Argus' body, Coyle was struck with a sudden, whimsical fancy... and before he knew it, he was kissing the older, more built man. Well as for reaction time to this little oddity, it was a lot longer than it should have been. Perhaps half a second, then the milky skin of the young boy seemed to corrode into the jagged, glasslike scales of something entirely... not sensuous. Oddly enough though, this realization and the reaction with it lasted but a moment. Then the bloody, serrated scales of that hellish beast sunk back into the placidly soft skin, and Coyle pulled himself away from Argus with a smirk. "Oooh... what a dirty little trick." Then, without pause, he let this strange influence.... well, influence him, and he continued to pour out this misplaced affection on Argus as if he truly were in love. Or lust. He always got those confused.

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] That little lust spell of his worked perfectly. the guy wasn't a mortal, though it worked as well as if he were one, which pleased Argus to no end. Years and years of solitude and yet he was still just as amazing as he had been. That was by far more of a victory than feeling his hands roaming along his body, or even the feeling of their lips connecting. Anyone could seduce another person if they tried hard enough, and when they did they would find that it was pretty much the same experience every time. Or at least that's how it was for him. His reactions to the events that had transpired were much more interesting, however. When Coyle pulled away from him, he chuckled, licking his lips. Without skipping a beat, he was hovering over top of the smaller boy, sliding his hands up his chest. It was fun to just cuddle every once in awhile, but as with everything else, there needed to be a climax to this story, and he could tell that they were rapidly approaching one. So, he settled down, laying on top of Coyle, one hand propping up his head while he used the other to draw designs on his chest. He exhaled contentedly, bringing his head just a little closer to his lover's, though he refused to lower his lips any further. "No one else could match up to you," He was saying, dreamily, "They all think they're good, but you're..." His words trailed off as he gazed down at the younger boy. Then, without any warning, his demeanor began to change. His hands became claw-like upon his chest, and the ever so consistent smile vanished completely. The gaze had become more of a glare, and his breathing became much heavier. As he finished his sentence, his voice had become little more than a growl. "... You're a filthy, little whore." He had brought both hands up on either side of Coyle's head, his nails now digging into the sheets. His face hovering several inches above Coyle's, he was openly snarling. "How easy did you think I was? I know you've been with dozens of others. Women, even. Probably kids too." He paused in thought for a moment before continuing on in a matter-of-fact voice, "By that I mean that you probably even have a few kids as a result of your sick, little love affairs. Not that you're a pedophile. But you might as well be for all I know." There was a change in his demeanor yet again, this time showing what appeared to be genuine pain. He sighed, removing his nails from the bed, and instead resting his head on his hand again. "You don't love me... Well maybe I don't love you either!" With that, that familiar smile crept across his face yet again, "Or maybe I'm just making this all up as I go along." Now, he tapped into another one of his amazing powers, sending out the invisible tendrils to capture and force his companion into a deep sleep. Impressive in itself, but Argus was far from satisfied. In fact, he wasn't close to being satisfied until he had stripped away every hope of the sleeping demon having a pleasant dream that night. Sliding off of him, he watched his sleeping form for awhile, muttering sarcastically to himself about how peaceful he looked when he was asleep. He slid out of bed, collected his clothes and his music player and left without a backwards glance. Going all the way back to that weird tangent, he had said that there probably wasn't going to be any gay sex, and he was right. He was a very honest guy every once in awhile. That, and it was just fun to mess with people.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][bg=655064] Bliss was something Coyle was very unfamiliar with. He had never been a particularly happy creature, though he had never been particularly sad either. Actually, it was the lack of either that kinda did it for him - drove him completely insane. But if he ever were to experience bliss, it would probably be like this. It was an induced state, like a drug he didn't necessarily want, but he was perfectly fine with it. The things it did to him, and the things it made him do. He was not partial, and it actually helped him, if this is what Argus wanted. Why? He didn't know. He didn't care. But there was an opportunity here, and Coyle would more than happily exploit that opportunity if it meant something for him. ....which is why it was so odd when suddenly the feeling stopped, and he found himself lying flat on his back staring at a snarling Argus. Quite frankly, he was confused. Less frankly and more to the complex and intricate points that he so often made, he was intrigued beyond measure. What the hell was happening? Was it someone's fault? Why was he a whore again? And what was Argus's fascination with anyone else he'd ever slept with? Sure, there were a lot of others.... but did that really matter? Did any of it matter. To someone it did, apparently. Coyle simply stare up at Agrus curiously, his oh so innocent eyes round but his angelic features betraying an impish smile. He really didn't get all this... but whatever it was, it was fun! "Yeah well, what can I..." The beautiful music of his voice begin, perhaps to aggravate the situation and see if he could drag out a little more of this intimidating fury, or perhaps to melt it away with the silvery touch of his influence. Well whatever he was going to do, he stopped short... and then he yawned. Not good. "No, wait! And then he did something he very rarely did, because in fact when he did get the chance to do it for some reason or other he always had a bad experience: He slept. Soundly. She was always so special... so special to him. Where the world cracked with fire, and the lakes were that of blistering molten rock, she was there. And she helped to start the war. That war would end the bright stars, and break the planets into dust. Such a war that brought the smell of blood to him - the sight of pain. Such tragic beauty, as it is called. The dead and mangled like pieces of art, posed over the serene, spattered landscape. So quiet, and so calm. In need of more war to paint the picture red. And that is what he had: more war. More war. Over and over again. His gluttons for pain and torment gorged on the chaos. And the feast was that of their eventual demise. "It's all for you," he would say. "I know," she would answer. And that was all... That was all. Over and over again, the war was waged. The chaos brought forth, and the savage beast of evil in men's hearts stirred to wrathful obliteration. "I have a present for you," he would declare proudly. And shower her with the spoils of carnage - of the bodies of the broken. And she would laugh her gentle way, and think it quaint of him. And she had a present for him too. Something for the creature that came from the darkness and culled the ranks of rich and poor alike. She had a present for the death of millions, and she a mere mortal. Mere, and small, and powerless. ....which is why it was so very funny that she nearly gave it to him. And it nearly did what it was supposed to. And that is why he had to kill her. You see, that is why. For her terrible insolence. The things that she did to him... still does to him. Still, it hurt to remember her. To him, the finest piece of art on the richest tapestry of blood... the sound of her dying like the sweetest of torments that plague him. The only thing that plagues him, beyond guilt, or enemy, or the maddening quiet. That simple sound. Something like a shuddering scream... so loud. And whenever it was he woke up, Coyle felt a wave of sickness lurch through him. He had to... go somewhere for a while.