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 Post subject: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:29 am 
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Location: The Milky Way
---[Setting]---
Galaxy: Milky Way
System Cluster: Local Cluster
Solar System: Ra/Sol/Sun
Planet: Earth/Gaia
Level: surface
Continent / Ocean: North America
Nation / Territory: U.S.A.
State / Province: New York
County / Prefecture: New York
City / Town / Village: New York City
Suburb: (borough) Manhattan
Structure: Central Park
Time Frame: Past
TNH Verse Year: 2013
Local Date: 2013 February 11

by Freya Storm at January 30 Sunday 6:56 pm EST

A cold wind blew over the rocky face of the castle, lifting its crisp breeze to roll over the top wall. There it rushed pieces of ice crystals against the obsidian wool coat of the woman standing at the castle's edge. Her view matching the frozen chill with blue eyes, as her hair frolicked in the dusting of caught snow. Her cheeks glistened of a rosy hue, and yet she did act as if she were troubled by the cold. Beneath the length of her coat, she did not shiver, did not try to stop the arctic blast from fondling the delicate line of her neck. Instead, she stood stoic, like a statue carved of warm stone.

A long full breath was inhaled through her nostrils. The sharp cold moved quickly, attempting to chill the veins of the woman standing alone. And yet, it was met with a heat it would not understand. A bloodstream that was made for such freezing temperatures, as those that had rushed through the northern city just this morning. In this temperature, she felt alive. She felt closer to the past, to the place of her birth.

Panthera. It was not her home anymore, even if it was the place where she still longed for her family. Those to which she left behind, and mourned in her own way. They were so far, and out of touch. She hoped that they would know she was happy. That she loved, and she had indeed found the place where she belonged as 'queen'. Her mother would be happy. Her father would not. He would have wanted her to remain. And he would not have enjoyed the idea that she had found her mate in a human.

A corner of her mouth winced, as Freya lifted her proud noble chin to another brush of the northern gale. About her form, the large daemon snow leopard prowled. Rubbing its metaphysical fur against her skin, enjoying the glacial wind. It wanted to frolic, to run through the thick snow and hunt. It was something natural, but something that Freya had to hold back, for fear of being seen.

Lifting chilly fingers to her cheek, Freya tucked away wild strands of her golden mane. She had no idea how long she had stood here. An hour maybe, or longer. Drifting away on her thoughts, which she closeted away the moment she turned to leave the up most high spot of Belvedere Castle of Central Park.


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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis
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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:31 am 
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by Auzdein von Himmler

Auzdein had been lying, ghillie adorned in his hide, for the better part of the night and day when he finally spotted the tiny figure appearing near the pinnacle of Belvedere. Until last week's venture into the Park of which he'd heard so much about, he'd had no happenchance or urging to do any sightseeing in the New York realm at all, much less in this expansive public green belt frequented at all hours by the very society he had spent the better part of his life studying and training to forever avoid and shed.

Auz did not shift in the slightest, nor emit any audible breaths. Seldom even blinking as he spied the new target through his honeycomb capped scope, he lay there.. silent as a memory, still as a grave. His predatory eyes focused in on the figure; the flesh around his sclera narrowing and pressing in around the lenses ever so slightly, sealed within the rubber valve affixed to the near end of the cylindrical, telescopic device. His free eye remained opened to catch anything in his cone of view and its peripheral. Extremely elongated, deep, slow breaths kept his heart rate below 50 bpm. He was almost in a meditative state, all the while imagining the feeling of his creeping trigger finger squeezing off silenced rounds, and the sight of faces caving in and craniums erupting in shock waves of chunky reds, pink, hair clumps, and gray. The fantasies halted when he zoomed in on the figure's face.

Her skeletal structure under such a featureless and well kept epidermis was simultaneously pacifying and lust summoning. He felt the energy bubbling up and darting through his nervous system and veins. Her face was that of a timeless deity, like unto that of something which Leochares himself might chisel and fashion. He felt the soft electric stirring sensation deep within his loins. Gluteals, perineum, and erectors all flexed in symphonic succession. Then his training came back to him, as did his prayers; now was not the time, he chastised himself in thought, to be having visions of bonding with an Outlander. Another deep, slow, full breath in and out... His consciousness returned to flexing the ocular muscles; his focal point to her mannerisms. The observation continued.

He made mental note of how she stood with such an aristocratic and bold air, defying the chilling wind as if certainly she had either been raised or thoroughly trained and conditioned above the arctic circle. New Yorkers endured their share of the single digits, but were by and large an indoors people. Was she from the Lakes, the Canada nation, perhaps the Scandinavian peninsula? He, for a fleeting moment, wished he had brought along his gauntlets, that he might already have been shown the data to answer those pressing inquiries.

He caught himself entranced in tracing the way her eyebrows ebbed and arched their way out, up, and around, reminding him of the elegant Arabic serifs. 'Fe-line,' he thought, nodding minutely to himself; she looked markedly like a humanoid wild cat. Knowing little of those who had come to the Earth during and since the Shift, he dismissed this, giving back in a bit to the graceful defiance of her stance and form. Maybe there was dryad, siren, or nymph mixed in her blood.

She reached up and tucked away a few curling locks, whose polychromatic blend of platinum and wheat blondes equally captured him. This creature couldn't possibly be an Outlander. She was too pure, too majestic.. His inspecting gaze narrowed. The way her eyes remained stationary, appearing slightly out of focus at times, suggested she was imagining something. Was it nostalgia, her private calling, an upcoming event? It didn't matter; Auz keyed in on the absence of any foot traffic sounds within his range. The scope snailed forward, allowing both his eyes to dart around, confirming his privacy and newfound ability to exfiltrate from the hide.

Remaining in the shadow ribbons of the underbrush 'neath the canopy, he eerily inched and eased up from his prone position, shifted his center of gravity, and finally stood into a hunched, creeping posture, stepping off to snake and weave his way through the tree trunks. On the east border of The Great Lawn of six baseball diamonds, he quickly band-stepped across the foot path, re-entering the green belt on the other side, and made his way south-south-west, crossing another partially concealed foot path bisecting his route over to the southern edge of Turtle Pond. Keeping his path between that tiny body of water and the 79th Street Transverse Road, he reached the sloping masonry of Belvedere.

Avoiding dry foliage and twigs, as well as the common habit of bouncing when walking or jogging, he was able to close the final distance nearly as well as the agile, stalking beasts. By now, the scope had been rolled up in the ghillie he had shed during his rise and brief trek, and the tight pair of those items was quietly on its way into his small backpack, with the pack sliding back into place to nestle and rest upon his shoulder. Casual, matte black, jogger's trousers and wind breaker were revealed, along with Nike Free 7.0 sneakers. His own mane of wavy, flowing, earth tones now descended around his face and neck, cascading lazy curls to his shoulders and their blades; the strands alongside his cheeks and eyes held back only by a comfortably snug, cloth headband. A wizard's goatee and mustache completed this look, and left him resembling the classical renderings of Moses or Noah in their younger years. The hunter had transformed en-transit to the peasant park jogger.

Auz rounded the base of Belvedere and easily and energetically bounded up the graying slab steps. He caught sight of the cockatrice-sporting transom along the way, which cast pangs of lugubriousness through his being, leaving his muscles cool and flexing, and a warm gulp traveling down his throat. He longed to again encounter and converse with the creatures of that wrongfully forgotten time.

The picturesque, apparent demi-goddess, standing still along the uppermost construct of the castle, then turned toward him right as he slowed his ascent to a respectful halt. His rearward heel finished coming together alongside his foremost. Eyes locked. There was an instinctive pause where he chose whether or not to rush forward in attack, or honor her in a different way. One hand moved to rest upon his lower abdomen, the other flowed out with his left arm hanging at a slight angle about his side. Keeping his eyes peering deeply into hers across the distance between them, he bowed slowly at the waist, then returned at the same pace to his kingly posture, intrigued as much by her physique as what she would choose to do next...

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
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Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:34 am 
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by Freya Storm

Serenity had been her own, in the space of time to which she had stood alone at the top parapet of the castle. The frozen winds, which attempted to parch the moisture from her painted lips, had allowed Freya a moment in silence away from all the chaotic scents, noises, and sensations that came from living in a highly crowded city. While she had come to call this place home, there were moments when she missed the still silence of the mountains which surrounded her feudal home.

Winter seemed to present to the Pantheran woman many gifts. The feral temperament of its storms fed Freya memories of childhood, of a time when she moved among the people of her city without fear or ridicule. The velvet caress of friends, of a time when she never slept alone but against a warm skin of a companion. Their smiles, their breath were a comfort against the howling cold cries of the wind that would buffet against the small castle of her parents.

And now she sought that very wind, just to take her back.

Bittersweet were the memories which the wind contained. She could never go back. Even if there was a way, something that could turn back time to the day before December 21st, 2012, Freya would never have changed what happened. And with a smile that twitched upon her lips for a brief second, the alien woman turned gracefully to 'return' to the city. Her vivid winter sky blue eyes dancing upwards for a moment into the direction of the building that contained her lover's penthouse.

A shrill cry scratched through the trees, scraped against the castle walls, before it would lift the scent of another being and thrust it against the blonde's senses. Her forward step halted, Freya balanced on one heel, before the suspended other foot would settle against it. The air became charged the moment that she rested her eyes upon his tall figure. Splattered with her own dynamic aura and the voltaic charge of his own. Ivory nostrils flared to draw in his scent, so very inhuman. It held a predators caustic aroma. And in his eyes, she could see the keen search for danger in her own. A quick study he made of her, like a sudden opponent thrust into view.

His decision came quick, just as she felt the static of her own protective daemon's energy begin to course over her milky white flesh. To tall blonde's surprise, the mysterious figure bent at his waist. His body graceful as flowing water, he moved with a regal ease. His display seemed to give thought, that perhaps he knew her. Knew who she was, of her past, or that he had the ability to sense that the woman before him was more than she seemed.

With a delicate drop of her chin, the feline woman acknowledged the man in front of her. Her own curiosity now raised, she watched him as he returned to a more stately bearing. His carriage spoke of someone royal, of someone who possibly came from an 'antediluvian' world such as her own. A delicate smile teased the corners of her mouth, even as her eyes continued to survey his movements, his intentions. There were some cultures where a woman was called to bend or brow to a man who was not her alpha, not taking kindly to an 'insulate' act. She hoped his would not be one of those.

§ "I am sorry, but do.. I know you," she asked, although she was certain that she did not. Freya took a step forward, closing the gap between them tighter. Here, her own calming power played in the crisp dance of the wind, providing him with the comfort that she had no intent of a challenge or to be anything of danger towards him. The delicate length of her arm reached from within the woolen arm of her coat, offering elegant long fingers in greeting.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:36 am 
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by Auzdein von Himmler

The remarkably calming and soothing affect of both her presence and appearance were immediately noted -so much so that they even gave way to him pausing to blink a few times and take it all in. It was like an exotic drink for him, and one that he hadn't been blessed to receive and savor in some time. Auz wondered if the similar calming effect he had noticed his presence casting over his environment and those in it was detected by her.

The minute chin drop got him locking back on, though, as, arguably, the richest part of the languages of his home and people was the body language taught and shared along with all their notes and words. Her body mannerisms indicated royal blood to him, institutions of higher learning, and public pride for herself and her heritage; all things he had been starving to find in others for countless years. Mediocrity and filth had washed over and supersaturated the ruins of his bittersweet Earth.

His answer was a soft whisper, naturally almost hypnotic in its musical quality, "Nay, that you do not.. -although such is a travesty I aim to rectify presently, if the lady cares to." His head dipped with a minor cant and pivot to the right, again keeping his eyes gazing into her own, and his Deutsch flowed forth in an otherworldly fluidity that left it resounding more like Français, "Lord Auzdein von Schäfer, zu Ihren Diensten." He returned his head to its upright and forward-aligned perch, before shifting his pose to accept her offered appendage.

The crisp, frigid breeze resuming visibly energized and moved him to inhale deeply with confidence and appreciation for it; his lungs welcoming in and drinking it down in great gulps; its invisible waves caressing his skin and flicking up the relaxed curls of his outgrown mop of well-kept and self-styled hair. The slight muscle shifts across his face intentionally revealed his curiosity as to the nature of the placating power they apparently shared. Was she one of his kind? Would they learn and unlock more about each other in the conversing that may be too soon follow? Minus the absence of combat, these key factors had shockingly returned him directly into his element again. He almost felt mirth.

Taking a knee before her, he swung one hand around to rest upon the small of his back, and raised the other to gently and evenly slide warmly against the surface of her fingers and palm. Eyes softening in reverence of whatever she was, he lowered his head just enough to let his lips purse out a few millimeters and evenly seal and briefly spread themselves upon the back of her hand. The kiss was a bit warmer than their combined palms had become, and left not a bead of moisture as he concluded and withdrew it just as smoothly as it had begun. He awaited her command to rise, finally finding the sacred and holy calling to honor the customs and courtesies of another not his own. "You're.. not from around here, ..are you." His gut was seldom incorrect. The line was half an interrogative, half a declarative, but was full only of awe, as if he was teetering on the brink of being spellbound.

Auz had been monitoring the Shift, backtracking its epic beam, and although he had little knowledge these past few years of the majority of the Earth his people had taken to titling the Outlands, and little knowledge of all the newcomers the city the two of them were in was now overflowing with, he was keenly aware that something had transferred in the process of trading out the eras called Yugas. She had to be one of them.

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Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:37 am 
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by Freya Storm

"Lord Auzdein von Schäfer, zu Ihren Diensten."

It was a name to which she did not recognize, even after he admitted that neither knew the other. Still there was the smooth flow of muscles, the carriage of his body, the intonation of a voice to which English was not a first language. All of this presented in the powerful spell of an aura to which moved like a languid ghost about him. A muscular form moved beneath the curtain of his clothing, in a way that spoke of predator, hunter.

With a tilt of her head, she sorted the silent puzzle of the man before her. The wet muscle of her tongue glazed painted lips with the tip, laving the scent which rolled off of his skin with the caress of the winter wind. His masculine scent palatable to the air, but nothing to which she could pin point or know. Yet, it spoke of foreign places, a distant spice that gave images of a place with warm fires. He was something to which she did not know, something new. Not demon, not infected, and still not so very human.

A slight dip of her head, he would find a pleasant smile. Freya's azure oculars followed him, as he moved down to kneel before her. His dark hair dusted by the falling white crystals of snow. He moved like a vision from her past. Respectful, honorable, there upon his knee, winter kissing is skin. The moment that he reached out and touched her hand, the Pantheran felt the soothing blanket of his own 'magic'. It slid softly about his arm, like heated silk against her skin. The daemon within lifted its head, curious but silent. It's own power weakened with each gift to her mate, it moved like a slow ghost underneath her skin.

§ "No, I am not," her reply rumbled in a sound that mimicked a distant storm, as she began to purr. She felt relaxed with his hand about her own. She could still feel the chaste kiss that had been placed respectfully upon the back of her alabaster hand. The warmth of the austere kiss slowly chilled, smoothed away by the icy winds that snaked through the city.

For a moment, she was nowhere near this new world called New York City. They were both a people caught 'out of time'. She knew nothing of his world, nor how he came here, or how long he had remained among this chaotic place. Still, there was something in the man before her that felt so familiar, as if he had been one to walk along side her in the archaic city she'd been born to.

§ "Please, stand with me," she purred. As sweet a memory as he had taken Freya back to, she was not truly a queen in this new world. At least, not in title, it would never be so. She shook her head gently, as her other hand reached out to wave delicate fingertips in a motion that begged him to stand.

The regal blonde lifted her eyes with him, her delicate neck tilted in curiosity along with a dancing smile, § "I believe that you are not exactly from 'around here' either, are you?"

Elegant fingers stroked a soft pass of satin fingertips against the sensitive flesh of his wrist, as her hand floated away from the gentle grip of his large and strong hand. Pocketing her hands away, she took a step to the side. Her head leaning to the side, Freya nodded into the direction that would lead them to the steps that descended from the higher places of the park castle. It was a movement of a woman who expected to be followed, but did not order through the harsh sound of her voice. The muse of curiosity had been struck between them, and she would not be satisfied for it to be withdrawn just yet.

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Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:40 am 
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by Auzdein von Himmler

Auzdein could feel his extra-sensory perception seamlessly keying in on her own, synchronizing with it, and just about allowing him to feel the sensations she might be experiencing through her own soul and skin. He had read about prophesied mergers of consciousness, but had never imagined it to occur in his range so soon. Part of him wished to shake off the Siren-like sensation, and part of him wanted nothing more than to dive headlong deeper into it. The duality tugged at him; both options seeming perfectly amiable.

The taste of her flesh entered his mouth and awakened his salivary glands, wetting the tip of his tongue with but a whiff of her new, exotic, faint aroma that made him think of liquid beatitude somehow. Upon seeing her tongue emerge to glaze those lips so hypnotizing in their form, his own tongue slid between perfectly straight and even rows of teeth, parting them and his lips before tucking down to wet the lower of the two and withdrawing back within the smoothly resealing orifice. As his lower lip returned to meet the upper one, it shared its restored moistness, and the sighing, cold breeze licked over them, amplified in its effects by it.

Although his brow was fixed and his gaze stern and statuesque, like the piercing, surgical tracking of the eagles, his eyes were awestruck, reverent, and thirsting for more from her. He couldn't quantify or isolate the source of this connection he felt to her. It was as if he had seen the Sun turn on for the first time, or met the first being who was not his mortal adversary and demonic leech.. but in stark contrast, his friend. The attraction was, of course, a rich mix of things, but surprisingly the least of which amongst them was sexual. Predominantly, he felt, it was due to her refinement; her aristocratic, dignified grace.

§ "No, I am not."
Her vocal qualities, body language, physique, and manner of adorning and presenting herself.. all were compatible to his palate. After his decades of abandoning the originally tireless quest for such, this was unfathomable. How could a creature such as her exist in this world overrun by demon filth he had so exasperatedly left behind? Yet here she stood, with flesh and warmth and composure as real as the skin that clung to his wild and subtly shifting musculature. Her affirmation reinforced what he had somehow already known.

§ "Please, stand with me."
He felt his Tauran, brewing, bubbling rage swell (as it always did), only to be simmered and settled back down just as readily. He didn't take well to being told what to do, even if the telling came with well-mannered granting and permissions. She was still naturally calming him; the swirling, cyclonic embrace of an arctic jet-stream with his volcanic, glowing embers and fumes. Her voice rumbled like the storms he had almost forgotten about, and his vicious energy well tremored and threatened to release its contents. His toes extended out from one another, flexing as if they would produce retractable claws, and then returned to rest alongside one another.

There was a brief pause as he took in her words, and then his back rolled up into a straightening culminating in a slight inward arching of his lumbar; his pelvis rotating back as sternum and solar plexus puffed up with bold pectorals, and then the smoothly sequenced flexing and contracting of his lower musculature, raising his upper body on powerful legs that had graduated countless kilometers of ruck-sporting hikes.

Part of him instinctively wanted to bolt a lightning quick hand out to snare and bear grip the one she had used to motion and bid him rise; a long history of training that had drilled and tattooed in the mentality of sturdy professionalism mixed with always having a plan to kill everyone he met. A vision and fantasy of riding through the usual wave of calm, meditative violence played out in his mind's eye, showing him his hands and arms moving in a slowed blur and making contact with the various parts of her body that would leave her choking for air, unable to produce a cry for help, and flying over his shoulder to be brutally smashed back down into the concrete, where pressure points would be complimented with a knee pressing his full weight down upon her spine. He imagined being able to see the color-coded, pulsing and beating internal organs through translucent flesh and bone, scrolling biometric data alongside each of them, and highlighted options for entry points for his fingers and blades. Energy currents, meridians, and relationships were fading into view...

The vision was cut short; another wave of her calming effect. He was reminded that she was remarkably compatible so far, and that he had spent far too much time around the humanimals he had come to fully loathe for their universal acerbicity.

§ "I believe that you are not exactly from 'around here' either, are you?"
His body flexed at her touch, and then slowly relaxed; his expression softening and a growing smirk appearing on the left corner of his lips, "Nay; that I am not. Astute and correct you assuredly are. And how might I address such a lady?" Her touch had shocked him simultaneously near the brink of kill mode again, as well as into a semi-euphoric state; he hadn't felt such therapeutic and projecting gentleness since he had departed his city. Until this moment, he had concluded that, for whatever reason, it just wasn't possible or allowed to exist here in the Outlands. It would take considerable time to readjust to allowing anyone from this appalling realm to approach, near, and contact his skin. Taking her offered hand in his own for that salutatory kiss had already challenged his limit.

As she exposed more of her neck, nodding in the direction she intended for them to ambulate, his eyes locked onto its jugular, but now more so how featureless and silken it appeared. Somehow his fingertips could already feel it electrifying them with its warm vanilla cream. Returning his eyes up into her own, he moved to step alongside and with her.

Becoming increasingly gladder he hadn’t brought his gauntlets along on this satellite patrol from the hotel room, he let his mind and body give in to their newfound situation and the wonderment of this (chance?) encounter. He was sure, at some point, they would violently part, as was his tendency and the tendency of The Fates that had always steered him, but for now, they were orbiting one another, and revelations were to be granted.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:42 am 
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by Freya Storm

The northern zephyr licked against her milky complexion, flung wild the tendrils of halcyon locks. She could feel it there, in the feral winds that brushed against his masculine jaw-line. It lept up, like a wild beast, ferociously tangling in the dark shadows of his hair. Something in the dark of him, wild it roamed just beneath his flesh. Sparking fierce desires to raise and foil, with electric fire at his fingertips. Soothed away by the feather like sensual touch of the cooled pads of her fingers. The spiral revenants of her aura flew into the snow dusted wind, chilling the warriors embers.

She knew through the near Braille like masculine scent of him, that he was not one of her kind. But, he was something close. And she did not know if it were being in this place of nightmares and infected things that might have brought those shadows to cloud his eyes, or was he born a paladin protecting what he knew. Freya had met many warriors, many champions of their homes and stations. To the victor was often left the spoils, but Freya often saw what they held in their own hands had become rotten without the gentle calming touch of another.

§ "I am Freya, my Lord." Where she had been home in Panthera, there would have been a title with her name. A young woman who had been expected to take the place of her own father, or even marry on into a higher ranking family. Yet, here, she was simply Freya Storm. And oddly content with her life on this distant planet, to some degree.

The blonde saw the reserve that overcame him, the moment she had offered her hand a second time. Like one vanquished, who had been turned away by his own kind, he seemed uncertain of touching her again. Her bright smile flashed, pressing little diamonds of dimples at the corners of her mouth. Another nod, she offered in understanding, as Freya turned and began a languid stroll away from the wall of the parapet. Hidden beneath her wool coat, her hips swayed gently, like a great predator cat on a slow calculating prowl. Each step into the snow was sure, and yet quiet. As if she walked upon the air, and the snow bore no weight to make the tell tale crunching sound, § "This city is full of strangers, Lord Auzdein. I find it interesting, that I don't believe I have met one soul who was born to this city. It makes you wonder, what kismet has in store for us."

She had come from a world that believed in the fates. Took the fortune that the gods and goddess gave them, and tried to be thankful. The gamble of life was often riddle with pain, and our own torment to which we poisoned out very beings. However, chance was sometimes kind. And in the case of Earth, Freya was thankful that she had arrived in New York, if any other place on this planet. She was beyond the lines of infection, far from the place where beings that drank blood ruled who 'countries', and large scaled beasts flew over lands to torture smaller souls.

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Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:45 am 
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by Auzdein von Himmler

§ "I am Freya, my Lord." The inclusion of his title raised the lightly tanned flesh above his left cheekbone a millimeter in something appearing to be the synthesis of a smirk and a silent snarl. The lower, outer corners of lids that sheathed his eyes did twitch or tense as he continued to inspect her every note and move. He had not heard many address him properly -formally- that way in many Lunas. This female was bringing out his most treasured primal side. Could it be that she, like him, was a beast inside? He hoped it would be more literal than metaphorical, if not, at least, matching in calibre and magnitude.

Freya's smile drew his focus, and he let his eyes caress her teeth and dimples, taking them all in; the sights and vibes of one of the only Outlanders he hadn't wanted to kill immediately. He soon keyed in on the fact that her footsteps were like the ghostly falling pads of feline paws. Another smirk crept into a full grin. He commented not.. for now.

§ "This city is full of strangers, Lord Auzdein. I find it interesting, that I don't believe I have met one soul who was born to this city. It makes you wonder, what kismet has in store for us." His eyes softened while remaining full of newfound, explosive energy. "You speak of the Arabian deity, Al-lah, und his vill," his Deutsch peeked into the tail end of the remark. "Be you a scholar?.. a nomad?" He sounded British and upper echelon again.

Auz was beginning to sense, or at least speculate upon, the common conclusions she was drawing about him. It was unlikely that she would see or accept how comfortable and in love with his essence and calling he had finally become. So many of those of his leaning and line of work were jaded, alcoholic, walking disasters. For the longest time, he had thought himself damned, cursed, or merely unlucky; probably much unto the same as them. Then the striking and rekindling epiphany had come; he wasn't a member of the species he'd spent his childhood enduring a mutual abrasion and disliking to -not at all. This had recharged him all but fully, and he had carried on much better and more resolutely ever since. Ironically, his own personal "shift" had come and amplified several years before the global Shift, which he had somehow missed while materializing and raising his city.

"That name comes with a title all her own, dost it, Lady Freya." It was more of a declaration than an inquiry. Freya, he detected and grew ever the more sure of with every passing, hushed fae step, was another powerful and learned soul, spirited far away just as he had always been. He raised an arm bent at the elbow, in offerance that she might entwine around and rest her own upon it. Their stroll continued...

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:47 am 
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by Freya Storm at February 16 Wednesday 4:12 pm EST

§ "Yes, Al-lah," her answer came with a gentle nod of her head. Saffron tresses falling forward to caress her high boned cheeks, then falling back to caress her shoulders and back. Her azure eyes had fallen to the steps. A soft sweep that moved over the stone staircase, and the snow covered green just beyond. They were the eyes of a predator, calm and sure. There was not the gleam of a hunter which sparkled in them now, but the cautious eye that knew even the hunted could have the barrel of a gun pointed towards them. Freya had been a target once, and she wasn't a fool to believe it wouldn't happen again.

§ "And.. I would suppose you could call me a scholar. Not exactly of the Qur’an, but I have an appetite for knowledge," she replied, considering that he asked the question. Perhaps, he did indeed want to know. He seemed like her, a tree that had come to this world and tethered roots into it's soil. If he was like Freya at all, he would understand what she meant, as she continued, § "My father once told me, that the knowledge one needs to live by does not come by just one source, but many."

§ "And there are certainly many here in New York City," elegant fingers drifted towards the city beyond, as a light laugh whispered from her lips. It was a soft chuckle, one more in reflection for the woman who had 'stumbled' on a city that held as many people within it's 'walls' as the whole of her country. § "I have still a lot to learn."

As they neared the base of the castle, Freya's eyes lit up with the offer of his arm. It was the treasure of trust and respect, from a man who but moments ago had placed the piercing eyes of a warrior uncertain upon her form. With the gift, her own aura blossomed with the warmth of fur. Her arm slid into the crook of his. She felt the friction of powerful aura, not mingling but smoothing near to one another like ships passing at sea. The willowy blonde smiled, and shook her head with her answer, § "I don't have need of such titles anymore."

§ "Although, Boss Lady has been heard a time or two," She grinned, and considered the pride that came with the nickname. Freya had earned the respect of the staff at the club. An earned title was worth so very much, especially in the place that was the den of her lover king. § "But, you would be correct. I was once Lady Freya Storm, from a place that long believes me dead...."

§ "I am afraid." The light that had been in her eyes fell to shadows for a moment. Her concern still laced in the memories of her parents, concern of what they had gone through trying to find their missing daughter.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Winter Winds, Life's Breath [Tag: Freya Storm]
PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:49 am 
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by Auzdein von Himmler

§ "And.. I would suppose you could call me a scholar. Not exactly of the Qur’an, but I have an appetite for knowledge."
An "as do I" was not needed; that would be self-evident in due time. Auz simply took in this statement of hers with elated relief. He had only known a slight handful of scholars to his degree in his time and travels across this sphere. It was high time in his opinion that he had happenchance to meet and carry on with another.

Auzdein continued to match her gait as he stepped with her, occasionally narrowing his eyes for a split second as she made her comments; his gaze moving around the city as she gestured. Fighting a knowing smirk, then a matched grin, he felt his scalp, auricularis, and temporalis thews flex in charged recognition.

Before he caught sight of her reaction, he felt it; Freya had lit up markedly upon the offering of his arm. For one as he, who spoke three entirely additional languages, each just of body motions (ASL, USMC hand-and-arm, and FOBian), the expressions and emotions of her body were as bright as the Sun. His eyes relaxed and widened; the smirk finally making its appearance and daring to force open a smile. Lips moved back as if to part.. once.. then twice.. and finally his even, white teeth were shown. Auz cast his eyes down for a moment as he closed his lips, daringly starting to believe he was not the only one of his kind again.

The feeling of her aura sparking and sliding against and around his was invigorating beyond measure. It even reminded him of the way he felt at home amongst and with his treasured people. Neither aura would give way or change in the least, but somehow they were complimentary in this moment. Magnetars were dancing.

§ "I don't have need of such titles anymore." He almost retorted with "Yet the title dost remain.", but Freya continued. § "Although, Boss Lady has been heard a time or two," He grinned, as well. § "But, you would be correct. I was once Lady Freya Storm, from a place that long believes me dead...." His brow furled, dropping a bit into what bordered on a tickled frown. What ever did she mean by that?

§ "I am afraid." This line readily snapped him right out of his pondering, and gave him cause to pause, turn, and face her. At first, his free hand moved up and settled reassuringly over the top of the forearm she had nestled about his own, but this, he felt, wasn't enough; not even remotely. Her words had exactly mirrored his own, from a journal entry long ago, written at the onset of his first combat deployment when he had finally realized that his entire crew was idiotic at best, and that he was fully at the mercy of his gods. The feelings of that day and time all came back to him. The feelings somehow attached like relationships or strings to her own words rushed and flooded through him, too. He saw the light go out in her eyes. Fleeting flashbacks of how his own face must have looked under that same feeling so many times.. quickly came and went, leaving their mark upon his face and soul.

Auz naturally steeled his countenance, narrowing his gaze in brief inspection of her, looking more for a feeling of the aura he couldn't exactly see, than anything on the surface; not her words, nor her outwardly appearance. He wanted to ask "Why are you afraid?", but he suspected she would reveal the details behind the surprising comment when she felt ready. Auz let their forearms slide apart as he took one step, embracing her at a steady rate that was careful to be neither creepily slow nor alarmingly quick. Something just told him to lower his guard.. enough for one hug, anyway.

Standing there in the chilling wind that he loved so dearly; it reminding him as much of his home and family as she had started to, he canted his head, resting the back of it along with his neck against her own, and felt her heat as he shared his own. Their carotids subtly and powerfully pulsed pressed together, and his beat slowly began to sync with her own. He lightly squeezed her within his embrace, marveling at how their calming effects were combining in his sensory array. If it hadn't been for that, he wouldn't dare get this close to a humanoid, unless to serve as Death's hand.

With a cheek still nuzzling over her trapezius, he spoke as if he were about to shiver or cave into himself. Some of his words sallied forth with a unique accent; some of their syllables being enunciated in the olde Transylvanian fashion, and the "r" in "trust" being rolled: "It's been yeahhrs'.. since I hugged anyone. ..This is gonna be difficult.. I don't trust..your kind. ..and you likely don't believe in myyne." He was fighting the urge to explode in rage and rip her limb from limb; many decades of training now fully integrated with every fibre of his being. Her innate abilities were making his containment of the ever growing Djinn daimon possible.-

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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