Written Wonderland

Ohh, the pull to give in was strong. The goddess was saying all the right words, and the light and her caress over his neck felt remarkable. He couldn't help tilting his head to the side, his skin full of goosebumps and practically begging for more.

But that alarm was still going off in his brain, and it got louder when the goddess indicated just who she was. Philip didn't know much about the goddess of dreams, but he certainly knew of her more as a corruptive seductress than a cleansing spirit. She was a goddess nonetheless though, and was deserving of respect... but Philip couldn't believe that giving into her was truly the righteous path. At best, it seemed more likely to him that this was a test, and that was assuming that the goddess' motives were truly benign.

The lieutenant stiffened, and brought his free hand up to try to nudge the tip of the light away from his mouth, or at least prevent it from slipping in when he spoke.

"With respect, your grace, I cannot. Whatever my sins, I will not give in to temptation."

He was absolutely terrified as he said this - he was declining the behest of a god, after all - but he kept up a calm, determined expression, and bravely met the goddess in the eyes, praying that this was the correct course of action to take, and doing his very best to ignore the parts of him that nearly wanted to cry out in agony over the prospect of not giving in to this goddess. Some parts of him - deeeep, deep down - even hoped that she would persist, but he was really, really good at convincing himself that those parts didn't actually exist.

"Some parts of you already have," she purred, letting the light slide from her wrist so the rest of it could continue exploring Philip's body. Thwarted, the tendril of light near his mouth moved across the back of his neck oh-so-slowly while the end that had been attached to the goddess' wrist dipped underneath his shirt and skirted across the line of his belt in a slow circle. Meanwhile, the goddess circled Philip in the opposite direction, one hand lightly touching the light and Philip's nearby skin, igniting pleasure in those places, especially along his lower back. She was directly behind him now when she spoke in her deep velvety voice. 

"How can you promise to struggle against the parts of you you can't even see or control?"

((OOC: If Philip attempted to use force on the light other than straining against it (e.g., grabbing a portion of it and squeezing or something), it would all dissipate, at least momentarily. Not sure that's relevant, but it's not going to stick around if Philip is causing it pain.)) 

((OOC: Noted! So far he hasn't done anything to it other than push against or attempt to redirect it.))

Philip's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched tight, hints of anger touching his expression again when the goddess claimed that parts of him had already given in. Yes, he felt lust, but he had it under control - or, at least, desperately wanted to believe that he did. The touches of the light and the goddess' hand certainly tested that, though. Goosebumps welcomed the light wherever it roamed, and warmth blossomed into him wherever the goddess made contact. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, and tensed up muscles throughout his body, as though he could block out these sensations by doing so. But the warmth and the goosebumps persisted, and Philip couldn't stop himself from letting out a brief, startled breath as he felt his pants growing subtly tighter.

A part of him wanted to assert defensively that he was struggling. A part of him was ashamed that this was a struggle. He felt paralysed, and like he couldn't even form words on his tongue.

He finally let out a grunt and hastily stepped a few paces forward to get some space between him and the goddess again. Along the way he grasped at the light by his belt and tried to usher it away, perhaps towards the ground, or at least towards snaking over his arm instead which was less sensitive. He was walking a fine line, wanting to be assertive, but not hostile. That was getting more and more difficult by the moment, as he felt himself having to hold back both lust and anger simultaneously. He was starting to panic, growing deeply afraid that sooner or later, some part of him would lose control.

((OOC: but so far, he is successfully not squeezing the light, just trying to pull it away/redirect it. He's even trying not to throw it. He doesn't want to be disrespectful! lol. I think he's kind of treating it like a cat he doesn't want on his lap xD))

Philip's startled breath hit the goddess' ears and caused a burst of pleasure to cascade through her. It was always so intoxicating when this started working. And the taste of anger she could feel in this mind was incredibly gratifying. Despite the fact that he did not want her to be persistent, he still forced himself to be polite, and suddenly she wanted to make him give into anger as well as his lust. But, she reminded herself, she did need his body to withstand her if she was going to use it to move about the human realm.

The goddess found herself slightly disappointed when Philip stepped away from her and pushed the light from his pants, but again, his actions were nothing short of respectful, which she found endearing if not hilarious. Her grin at this point was reminiscent of a cat playing with food as she stepped forward and slipped a hand underneath one of the tendrils of light wrapped around his middle and neck and pulled Philip backward. They stumbled backward into the tree and fell through it, landing far underground in a cushioned room with fabric similar to the texture of raw mushrooms--like soft skin. In fact, the cushions looked like mushrooms, too, though they were very large and in an enormous variety of colors. The goddess landed very near Philip, who landed face up with the light tendrils nowhere to be found, though neither Philip nor the goddess was in any way hurt. Before he gathered his wits, Dehaljadrun managed to wrap one of her legs around one of his and got an arm over to one side of him so she was halfway over Philip, her hair spilling down her shoulders and falling off to one side, the scent of citrus and rain heavy in the underground room. It was obvious that the room extended into a tunnel in one direction, but the only light came from red flames in torches on either side of the main room.

"It's cute that you think you can hide your desire from me," she said, surreptitiously looking down toward his tightening pants. "It's only a matter of time now," she continued, her body sliding down Philip's leg several inches before sliding back up and meeting his gaze, her own enjoyment of the action very present in her expression. 

Adrenalin shot down Philip's core as he felt tugged backwards, at first into a stumble and then into a fall. He was relieved to land safely on soft cushions, and he did his best to regather himself to take in the new surroundings and reassess the current situation. He'd barely gotten to assessing the texture of the cushion he'd landed on, though, before his attention was pulled to the goddess beside him - her close proximity to him, the way her hair fell to the side, the many points of contact between their two bodies... But also the smell of citrus and rain, which narrowed Philip's eyes as he recognized it.

He didn't know what it meant, for the water from the shrine to have smelled like her, but something about it made his gut turn over uncomfortably. He felt very much like he was missing something. He wanted to go back over the exorcism he'd performed on the king, reassess details he hadn't had time to look at more closely, but the goddess spoke in a way that gathered more blush onto his cheeks, and forced his attention back into his body.

The lieutenant closed his eyes and turned his head away as the goddess slid her body down and back up against his, causing a heavy weight of shame to settle in his chest as he felt himself pulse beneath his pants, invasive thoughts about the goddess growing harder to keep at bay. He was starting to fear that his giving in really would be inevitable, and he debated about what to do in light of that.

Some voice in his head certainly whispered, why not just enjoy it then? To advocate for its case it sent fantasies of rolling over on top of the goddess into Philip's mind, of his hands in her hair and his lips on her chest and her arms and legs wrapped around him. Surely all signs pointed towards her interest in such an act. This might not even be a test, nor even a punishment - she might just honestly want it. And, she was a goddess - surely... if she was a divine being and she truly wanted him, then surely there was nothing wrong with the act.

He knew that was wishful thinking, though. Why should a divine being want him? Her indication that she was to punish him for his transgressions certainly struck him as significantly more likely - and almost certainly, his mind had decided by now, in the framework of testing whether he could resist her before her punishments would truly ensue. Even so, even if he was destined to fail eventually... oughtn't he fight to his limit still? But how viciously? How did he fight against this goddess while still showing her due respect?

Philip's head swam with confusion and anxiety, no path forward feeling right, or even acceptable. Every action he could possibly think of only further exacerbated the feeling of shame in his chest.

It reminded him of how he'd felt at the start of this war, when Blake had left him without any options that wouldn't make him a traitor of some sort or another. That thought rode up on the coattails of the anger that had already been on his periphery, and helped it blossom large enough to overshadow his sense of shame. Perhaps, it noted, he did have a third option - to deny the goddess' authority altogether. Didn't some call her the Demon Queen? Wasn't there some call to view her as fully an adversary in this situation? Was it not a fair assessment that she was knowingly - perhaps purposefully, calculatedly even - putting him in an impossible situation?

Perhaps she deserved to be punished.

Before Philip had time to counter with the absurdity and hubris of such a sentiment, he found himself rolling over harshly, his expression darkened with anger, and his hand going for the goddess' throat.

Dehaljadrun could not stop herself from grinning as Philip rolled over onto her and reached for her throat. Getting at Philip's anger seemed far more successful than she had anticipated, and it thrilled her. It had certainly been awhile since anger had been the primary reaction a man had toward her advances. But, she couldn't let him think he could have the upper hand on her. She used her arms to lift herself and back up as Philip reached so that her breast was where her neck would have been, intending that, at least for a moment, Philip would grab there instead. As she moved this way, the goddess let out a deep laugh and said, "That's certainly not something the little one did."

Philip's hand did indeed grip firmly onto the goddess' breast, and he didn't falter once he realized what had happened. Some part of him was certainly mortified - both about the accidental sexual advance, and about his actual intention - but at this point, anger was winning out. He was tired of playing nice, goddess or no. Irritation certainly played over his face as the goddess laughed, and his mind started the very first steps of calculating his next move having now framed this as a decidedly adversarial encounter, but the goddess' next comment threw him off. Little one?

Philip's first thought was Chloe - after all, she'd been at the exorcism, and at this point Philip didn't especially trust that that process had necessarily been as successful as the goddess implied. But then again, he'd seen Chloe right up until he was with the goddess.... which made him think she meant someone else? He couldn't think of who, but nonetheless, a sense of protectiveness and indignation flared.

"Just what have you done?" he nearly growled, his grip on her breast tightening painfully.

The goddess did not even flinch as Philip grabbed her breast more firmly. She kept her slightly mocking smile as she said, "You know, your little soldier. The boy. I took him this way last night. The lust in that boy astounds me. I barely had to touch him before he was crying for more. The things I've done to him since then..." The goddess kept Philip's gaze the entire time she spoke, her eyes taunting and tempting Philip to continue down this course of action. "It's going to take long time for me to cleanse him of his sins," she continued, "of course, at least he had the good sense not to fight me. You'll only tire yourself out before we even begin." 

At this, the goddess reached around the arm that had a hold on her breast and pulled Philip's shirt quickly over his head. It stayed down around his arms, but the goddess didn't care. It would come all the way off eventually. That done, she reached up with one arm around Philip's back while the other one began move down his abdomen as she pulled herself closer to Philip's neck and kissed some choice places down the side of it before nipping at the space between his neck and shoulders. She allowed herself to fall back on the cushions then, aware that the breast Philip wasn't holding had fallen out of her low-cut dress.

Philip's expression softened, his eyes widening in realization as he started putting a few things together. This is what had happened to Nathan? Gods, of course the poor boy didn't stand a chance. He was young and naive, and entirely too trusting. A painful ache gripped at Philip's chest. He wished deeply that somehow he could have protected the boy from this. At least he could take what this goddess did to him, he was convinced, but it was all to easy to imagine Nathan breaking.

His anger was mostly dissipated by the time the goddess was pulling herself closer to him, replaced by sorrow and worry. He shivered as the goddess placed kisses against his neck, and momentarily averted his gaze when she laid back down, not wanting to let his eyes linger and on her newly exposed breast - even as his hand still held her other, though much more gently now. He brought his eyes back to hers quickly though, mustering some resolve to bring his expression back closer to neutral, though his brow was certainly furrowed with worry.

"If I give in," he said softly, "Will you release him?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice chided that even if she did, this was a bad call. It was a miracle Nathan had survived this long; Philip was a far more valuable asset to their cause. But on some level... Philip was tired of serving their cause. Every moment he did was a battle against himself. Perhaps it was selfish - no, it almost certainly was - but if Philip could just feel like he did one last good before giving in... he could be content with that.

Dehaljadrun was genuinely surprised at Philip's request, having hoped that mentioning his underling would further upset him, but she didn't miss a beat in changing tactics. Just a new game to play, that was all. 

She reached up and caressed the side of Philip's face gently as if trying to comfort him. The goddess looked up at him with what she imagined--at least if Philip's memories of Chloe were any indication--was a mixture of earnestness, nurturing, and care. "You cannot take on the burden of another's sins," Dehaljadrun told him, still meeting his gaze. "But, if you give me what I want..." saying this, she wrapped one leg around his leg, her dress falling back all the way to her hips, and allowed the other leg to reach up around his back, "...maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement." At this, the goddess had difficulty keeping the excitement and mischievousness out of her expression but hoped it would pass Philip's notice.