Written Wonderland

Evan was already in his tent when one of the other soldiers began speaking. His irritation flared, but he remained put, figuring his presence would keep momentum going this direction even with brief interruptions. In the meantime, he took in what the other soldier said, and had to grant that it was interesting information. He supposed there had been something not-quite-real-feeling about...

No, he shook his head, refusing to revisit those memories with that lens right now. He'd certainly been grateful that he wasn't more injured by it, but the violation the goddess had compelled Philip to commit was very much real, and his ass was still sore regardless.

Raccoon and Lance came bounding into the tent soon enough, Dod's soldier a little shyly on their heels, and that was about who would fit; someone else held the tent flap open, trying to make room for others to see from outside--looked like it was the girl. The three who had come in gazed at the portal, taking it in, and Evan let them. Hell, he himself hadn't really taken the time to look at the portal--last time he'd had a few moments with a portal, he'd more just glared at it, irritated at the goddess for messing with Xavier. Now, despite the uncomfortable closeness of the memory with Philip, all he felt for the goddess was longing, and his eyes gazed at the portal accordingly. He thought maybe he could make out the hot pools in the swirling red, but it was hard to say.

Raccoon spoke a jumble of syllables to Evan, run together as one word that took the captain a moment to parse--but once he did, he couldn't help smirking.

"Now, out with ya. There's still more soldiers who deserve to see this, and it might only be here a couple more minutes."

Raccoon looked from the portal to Evan and back again, remaining rooted in place. After a moment, Raccoon looked backward toward the tent flap and said, "Oh hey, Pemberley," and made a mad dash for the portal.

((OOC: The portal will close within 30ish seconds of someone going through, assuming Raccoon makes it, but they are really gunning for it, consequences be damned. Evan would have seen the portal after the summoning stay open long enough for the goddess to go through, so he would probably have some indication that it would support two people going through it.))

Evan glared at Raccoon when the soldier didn't budge. Even Lance had started to turn after Dod's soldier, though he paused and looked over his soldier when Raccoon said something about Pemberley. Evan drew his brow together in confusion and raised his gaze to where the girl still held the tent flap open. She was turning to look over her shoulder back at the other volunteers whom Evan didn't have a good view of at the moment.

Then, Evan registered Raccoon lunging right in front of him for the portal.

"Halt!" he bellowed angrily as he stepped forward, hoping to put his body between Raccoon and the portal, but they had been too fast; Evan ended up grabbing for the soldier's arm instead, but his grip was too weak after the last-second change in strategy, and in a blink, Raccoon was through the portal.

"Fuck!" Evan groaned loudly, and whirled around to fix his gaze on Lance. The lieutenant looked like he was holding back laughter, but Evan didn't have time to be pissed off about that; he had to deliver whatever message was crucial to get out, and then dive in after Raccoon before the portal closed.

"Tell Mizu the headcount and about Raccoon."

He didn't even wait for Lance to nod before he lunged for the portal himself, praying he wasn't too late.

((OOC: Shall we make a new thread for goings-on at camp from here?))

It wasn't exactly like stepping through a door--there was a more of a physical sensation in Raccoon's stomach and skin than that--but it wasn't unpleasant. They didn't fully expect to end up in another world, though, like maybe they would just embarrassingly crash into the back of Evan's tent, but no, they were here, ostensibly in the goddess' realm. Well, then.

The sky and the sun were purple, which was weird, and there were burned trees that looked decidedly unfamiliar, but there were steaming pools of what looked like water, and by all accounts, Raccoon felt capable of navigating in this space.

They took only all of three seconds to take in the scenery because they knew there was a high probability of Evan coming through the portal right after them. Deciding that getting behind the portal would give them the most time to get away from Rutliff's wrath, they dashed behind and started barreling down the stairs. They stopped for a moment, though, upon seeing the back of an enormous opalescent structure of some kind. They probably shouldn't go try to hide there. Into the trees, then? But they were burned and bare and didn't provide much cover.

Deciding they didn't have much time, they ducked behind the rock wall next to a pool of deep water that was not steaming like the others. Evan would have to come around this way to see Raccoon, but they weren't completely out of the woods yet.

((OOC: Raccoon paused long enough that I think it's feasible for Evan to catch them or find them near the cold pool, and they might struggle a little, but I think they would accept whatever punishment Evan might give them now if they got caught. Otherwise, they will continue trying to hide until they are sure Evan is preoccupied. Also, the goddess did not notice Raccoon at all, and her form is very light in the water, but she is present and will come out of her trance if Evan enters the water.))

Evan's boots landed heavily on the ground, his eyes wildly taking in his surroundings. He'd been right about the pools, which at least warmed his chest, but neither Raccoon nor the goddess seemed to be there. Raccoon's absence annoyed him, but the goddess' absence unnerved him. Why was the portal here? Where was she? ...Didn't something look odd about the pools?

"Raccoon!" Evan yelled almost absent-mindedly, having decided that studying the pools was more important than chasing after the rogue soldier. They would in all likelihood be fine, as far as Evan knew, whereas the goddess was a complete unknown at the moment--and, surely, they'd get their comeuppance and more once they were truly in the goddess' grasp.

His eyes studied a faint opalescent haze across the water, until finally he found the not-quite-there form of a woman--the goddess, surely--curled up at the side of the pool.

"Raccoon, come, she's over here!" he yelled again, one final effort for now to try to lure the soldier back from wherever they were hiding or run off to. Then, he jumped down into the pool and began wading towards the goddess, no particular plan in mind other than to get to her and figure out the rest after.

The goddess thought she heard shouting, but she couldn't make sense of what was being said. The syllables weren't coalescing in her mind. More shouting, and whatever small amount of consciousness the goddess had left registered that the only likely reason that there would be shouting is if Evan had indeed returned for the evening. Gods, that meant so much time had passed. How long had it been? She was so exhausted and could barely feel her form--if she was inhabiting one at all.

But, to have Evan's hands on her again, to feel the intensity of his well of energy again, that would be enough--it had to be.

((OOC: I guess she's not going to move until he tries to touch her.))

The heat from the pool soaked into Evan's clothes and pricked at his skin as he moved, though it was nothing compared to that first night after he'd been in the cold pool--at least before it reached the stitches at his side. He seethed through his teeth as the heat stabbed into him there, but pressed forward. He was alarmed and maybe frustrated that the goddess didn't seem to be stirring despite his yelling and swishing through the water, but he hoped--prayed, practically--that he might rouse her with touch. Surely, given what the priestess had said, he could give her something from his ache and his longing, which the hot water and the goddess' proximity only brought even more to the forefront of his attention. The syllables didn't quite form on his lips, but her name formed in his mind as he reached out to her, his fingers aiming to stroke down her hip just beneath where he'd cut her.

The goddess felt trails of her memories trying to drag her back into her haze, but she was beginning to feel the water around her--yes, at the hot pools--moving, and there was a mental presence nearing. It must be Evan--it had to be Evan. But what if it wasn't? Could she sustain herself without his support? If she woke herself completely, would she be even more vulnerable?

She needed sustenance. She had done more today than almost ever before, and that was without any presences in her realm under her control or providing offerings. Whether or not it was Evan, she needed to take this presence in and feed.

Just before she drug herself out of the haze, she felt a voice, a mind, reach out and gently say her name--Dehaljadrun,--and she was pulled down into yet another memory of the king.

"Dehaljadrun," the king whispered. "Dehaljadrun," he said again, and some part of her distantly shivered. He had asked her if she knew what her limit was, if she knew how long she could go without drawing on anyone else except him, and she had been honest, saying no. He wanted to challenge her capacity, staying away for longer and longer periods of time, and she took no one else, eager to prove herself. She had starved herself for him, ached for him for days at a time at first, then weeks. She learned, painstakingly, how to conserve her energy, her magic, her power.

And then, abruptly, he left her for two months straight. She did everything she could to outlast him. She tried longer than she knew was possible, had gone into stasis multiple times to keep herself alive, waiting, sure he would return.

Finally, he did. She had been in stasis for several weeks straight, uncertain how or when she would wake, and then he was whispering her name in the mist that was her body.

"I brought you something," the king said, and it was only then that she realized there was another person with him. "Draw what you need from him." She felt this new presence's frightened mind, but her hunger was too strong, too potent to care much about how deep the desire for emptiness was when she entered in mist form through his screaming mouth and pulled him into herself, leaving little behind but a husk of a man, cloth forming to cover his eyes and hips. Since he had been there in the flesh, there would be no releasing him.

"Fascinating," the king said, staring at the newly transformed man.

Dehaljadrun tried again to rouse herself, the sensation of someone trying to touch her side, her hip, causing some other, far more recent memory to stream to mind. The sword, the gates of hell, the sensation of a hand grasping her hair... her blood cascading down her body and onto the floor. It was Evan. Evan was touching her. But she couldn't feel it. Not completely. Where was her body? How could she pull herself together enough to...

And what would happen if she did? Would she make a thrall of Evan, too? What had she done, to put him in this position? A burst of anger at Samael coursed through the misty haze of her body, turning her mist to a deep red purple, the color of a fresh bruise.

Was there anything--anything--other than Evan that could replenish her? Her mind swept the nearby area in a quick, invisible pulse, and she did find someone, someone human, even.

Yes, this small creature is mine. The mist that formed her body pulled into a dense ball and began mechanically attempting to travel in the direction of the new human, but the goddess was too weak. She had been trapped in her realm for so long, and the realm itself was dying. There was so little left, and she had just gone and spent so much of it.

But then, she remembered the amulet she had crafted from the power of Samael's land. He hadn't taken it from her after he requested the cloak, and it was back in the palace. If she could pull just enough strength from Evan to go get that... it would be enough. But could she stop herself once she began?

She had to try. Returning once more to the approximate shape of her human form and trying to calm herself--the red fading to some small degree--the goddess tentatively reached out mentally to Evan and quickly became awash with his concern and longing for her. He had followed her instructions--even in the face of a tumble with Xavier--and wanted little more now than to know she was all right. The goddess warmed with this knowledge and the sensation of sharing in his emotion, in all of his anxiety and anticipation. He cared for her, and she could feel it on the surface of his mind, calling her name.

The fingers on her left hand began to solidify, and she reached forward to touch Evan's face, her fingertips hungry and acting like potent siphons. He tasted so good, so full of ache and desire and everything that could call her back into her own body and shape and form. Yes, gods yes. Her body continued to form, solidity spreading down the one arm and spreading quickly to the rest of her--up her shoulder, across her face, down the other shoulder and arm, completing her naked torso, and rushing down her bare legs. The goddess parted her lips and took a breath with lungs that had only just returned to functionality.

Dehaljadrun opened her purple eyes, their color pastel and splotched with gray.

"Evan," the name was breathy on her lips, and she ached to have him closer. She finally felt his hand on her hip in the place where he had cut her, and a well of emotion began flooding up, some part of her still trapped in her memories with the king. "Evan," she said, still a whisper, tears streaming. She was terrified of what she might do to him next, but her fingers against his face felt so good, and she needed more.

She reached further and clasped her fingers around the back of his neck, drawing him to her and pulling his neck to her lips, her teeth plunging down into his skin and pulling both blood and energy and whatever else mixed in. Thrilled with the taste and wild with hunger and disbelief at Evan's presence, she release him and dove under the water, her teeth finding the place between the front of his thigh and his groin and biting there, too, hard. Her fingernails thrashed against him, against the left side of him and his backside, vaguely aware of the pain from his own cut but unable to care. She knew--felt it all the way through her newly reformed body--that he wanted pain and all the ways it danced with pleasure, that he wanted to give her everything she needed and more.

She needed find a moment to pull away, to stop herself from taking more than the strength she needed right now, but it was so difficult to see that threshold. The goddess began to wrap her legs around him, pulling herself up and against his body, feeling the pressure of his cock against one of her thighs as she pulled him down into the water with her, thrashing against him and clutching his neck with her arms. He will never get away from me again. Never. She clung and kissed and bit again at his neck and collarbone, vaguely aware that, at some point, he would need to breathe but she didn't care, frustrated only that he was wearing clothes and not providing her full access to his skin.

The goddess pulled her own head above water to suck in a breath but plunged back down, her eyes open underwater as her body calculated the final merge required to pull the rest of him inside her to make that enthralling blow that would steal all his agency from him. Permanently.

No, you can't. You can't. You have to get out of here. Get out of here! Her body turned to mist again, preparing to enter Evan and pull energy from all parts of his body at once.

No! She reminded herself of the amulet--yes, back at the palace--she could go get it now and sate this hunger enough at least to keep herself under control. But, the thought of Samael's energy in comparison to Evan's made her sick to her stomach, and she growled, the water around them roiling with fervor and releasing enormous bubbles into the air. With a piercing scream, the goddess pulled away from Evan and the hot pools, the mist of her heading in the direction of the palace.

((OOC: Evan's fingers will probably go right through her at first. Also, I'm imagining that the memory she has in this post happens quite quickly and doesn't give Evan a whole lot of time, but it will be about 90 seconds or so before she touches him.))

At first, Evan's hand went through the goddess, and a fresh spike of panic shot through his heart that he couldn't even touch her.

"Dehaljadrun," her name fell from his lips in a frantic whisper as his hand continued to move down the image of her thigh, his other reaching out through her back as though to hold her just above the water.

Then, the color of the mist around him shifted from the shimmery opalescent purple of this realm to a deep, bruised purple-red. Evan withdrew with a soft gasp, his shoulders flinching as he looked around him, his instincts simply checking to ensure that nothing else had suddenly approached. The thought occurred to him after the fact that it might be Raccoon, but he didn't see anything regardless--until movement in his periphery prompted him to whirl back around to the sight of a dense ball of mist moving away from where the goddess' faint body had been. Evan started to wade after it, but he'd barely made it a step before it dissipated, and started to form back into the image of the goddess' body.

Evan hesitated, some part of him unsure if the goddess hadn't just tried to get away from him. The thought sank a deep pain in his stomach, but he remained still in the face of that fear, until he realized that the goddess' fingers were reaching for him, and he practically couldn't help stepping forward to offer her his cheek.

Her fingers on his skin were faint, but he felt them, and his anxious lungs heaved out a quaking breath as his hand came up to lightly press his fingers over hers. His other hand reached out to touch her neck as it seemed more reachable, and another breath pushed out of him in relief at the sensation of touch echoing through him.

His relief was quickly scratched when the goddess opened her eyes, revealing a color that looked pale and cracked. Evan didn't like seeing her so vulnerable. It was terrifying that it had happened at all, and Evan felt out of his depth to be seeing it.

"Evan,"

His own name fell from her lips, and a tight throb balled up in his throat as his hand kept moving down her body, unwinding his chest and igniting his gut with each subtle vibration on its path, the friction elating. She said his name again, sending a shiver down his spine which only intensified when her fingers moved back into his hair, pressing against his neck, pulling him closer to her until her teeth sank into him, sending black and red stabbing through his core.

She withdrew and Evan stumbled while his sight of the world came back into focus, only to cut out again as her teeth sank into his groin, cutting through his pants but then muting. Her nails bit into his back but then faded out, sharp jabs of pain quickly bandaged over by his clothing, heavy and hot and weighing him down. The stitched-up gash at his side burned in the water, and Evan gasped in the cool misty air, a new kind of panic clawing its way above water.

The goddess coiled around him, legs and arms ensnaring him and pulling him downward. His cock throbbed against her, aching to give her everything he had to offer. Searing water splashed around him, stinging the back of Evan's throat as he took in another deep, gasping gulp of air. The goddess' body thrashed against his own in the water, and Evan scratched wildly at her back, his legs starting to find the strength to kick. The goddess' teeth sprinkled bites across his skin that bloomed in the wake of plush kisses, and Evan tumbled in those sensations a few times before righting himself enough to open his eyes and find the goddess, no matter the heat of the water. His lungs started to burn, and he met the goddess' eyes with a flurried gaze of panic, determination, rage, and heartache. He was scared, but not about to go down without fighting.

The goddess herself looked angry, and she growled ferociously, sending a rumble through the water that shook Evan's core. Then she screamed, high and piercing, slashing at Evan's head as she took off, unrolling from him in mist and leaving him flailing in the water, alone with his panic and pain. Evan's legs found the bottom of the pool, though, and he gathered his focus into his body, shoving his arm down to help one of his legs push while the other pivoted to kick him the rest of the way to standing.

Evan took in a deep, refreshing breath of air, and steadied himself on the ground. He had to cough up stinging droplets of water, but his lungs rejoiced with each breath, and his vision of the world came back into focus. He watched the mist roll away from him with an aching melancholy, and he reached after it with a powerful longing to know what was happening, and what he could do to help.

Sobs and coughs escaped Evan while he stood in the pool, and he questioned what to do. Chase after her? Give her space? Could he actually handle whatever it was she needed him to do? Gods, he wanted to, but after how hard he'd fallen so quickly, he wasn't sure that he could. He absolutely understood how a man could go under like that, and he didn't like getting so close to that fate. He'd avoided it, though. That's what he had to remind himself.

He was still Captain Rutliff, here to negotiate with the goddess of dreams and desire to secure the rebellion's success in the war, even if he also prayed that he could genuinely serve her.

"Fuck," Evan grumbled as he forced himself to start wading out of the pool.

"Raccoon!" he called as loudly as his lungs could muster. "Run!"

He laughed, then, at the absurdity of it. He had absolutely no idea what that soldier had signed up for, jumping in the way that they had. What they had done, was introduce a potential ally of Evan's in this realm, one whom he would try to protect if he could, hoping they might, if ever possible, return the favor.

Barreling toward her palace, the goddess furiously shot away from Evan, eager to put as much distance between her and him as she could. This was the fourth night with her, and Evan was a legitimate chance to end this cycle of hunger and destruction. If she could just stabilize...

If she could just leave...

But halfway there, she sensed that foreign presence again from the human, and their curiosity in exploration lit a bright beacon of light that the goddess could not help but see. Turning from her original course, she reached toward them, ready to engulf everything they were and take them all into herself.

A flash of yellow and red, flashing with black and white filled the goddess' vision, reminiscent of when Mirrah had lowered the shields around her mind. The goddess gasped and grew angry, but it distracted her long enough to remember. The amulet. Get to the amulet, and you can make a decision then.

Pulling away with a low rumble of the earth around the small human creature, the goddess rounded the corned to the palace and went quickly behind the throne to where she had stashed her portals--of which there were very few remaining--and gave herself a human body to pick up the amulet. She stared at at a moment, unwilling to put it on. How could she do so without poisoning herself? This had been a last ditch effort in the first place, and it felt so unappetizing when there were a number of alternatives elsewhere, just beyond these very walls.

She held onto the amulet in a fist, clutching it and rubbing one finger over the gem to give herself a taste. Immediately, bile threatened to fill her mouth. It was filthy. The taste of the flow as it moved into her, even at the rate of a trickle, was thick and oily and made her veins feel like they were running with sludge.

What kind of god was Samael? How could this have ever been a useful thing?

Others had asked her the same question. The goddess lifted her finger from the amulet's gem and walked calmly out of the palace, still nude. She had an idea.