The Priest(#3868Pc) Tall, thin and black, like a spider with topcoat and tails. A bony seven-foot frame with long arms and legs tends to tower over and dominate groups in the light and hide in the dark. A silk top hat settles on curly black hair which frames ebon black face. The only hint of light is the nicotine-stain yellow of the 'whites' of his eyes. Until he smiles. Then, large white teeth seem to erupt from his mouth, tearing his face open as if he would swallow whatever caught his attention. Rina pages: Where d'you think we'll start? Long distance to Rina: The Priest has a very good idea of where to start. You paged Rina with 'Is she still going clubbing and getting fucked up?'. Rina pages: Clubbing, yes, bt not getting too fucked up. The most she'll do is drop X, and only if she's with Paige or someone else she trusts. Long distance to Rina: The Priest nods. Jenny will be pleased to hear this. (: You paged Rina with 'Oh. The baby's kicking now, faintly. Jenny's had her feel for it.'. From afar, Rina was appropriately enchanted. And she only goes out about once every 1 or 2 weeks, and she probably makes sure Jenny has a friend over that night. Long distance to Rina: The Priest swoons. Okay. Rina pages: This past weekend? Sunday, maybe? Long distance to Rina: The Priest nods. That's good with me. Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 49 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southeast at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.19 and steady, and the relative humidity is 71 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.) The storm that had been battering the apartment building was finally breaking at around bedtime. From her corner of the living room (where she'd been working on a piece she enigmatically referred to as 'something for Spider'), Jenny set down her guitar, tidied up the dinner dishes, and drew Rina gently, almost hypnotically, to bed. The murmur of water running off the roof sang Rina to sleep with its own melody, and the darkness wrapped around her like a protective mother as she drifted into unconsciousness. Rina pages: I'm afraid. Long distance to Rina: The Priest blinks innocently. Whatever for? Tonight Rina sleeps curled up behind Jenny, an arm draped protectively over her side, hand splayed across the swollen belly. For once she doesn't wake the girl with her twitching. You paged Rina with 'Pyjamas?'. Rina pages: Shyeah. Right. Underwear. The veil of sleep is nudged, prodded, and finally torn. A firm hand drags Rina from the bed, and another slaps across her mouth as a heavy weight falls across her body. She is awake in an instant, a hoarse cry muffled against the hand, dark eyes flashing open as she thrashes to get free. Training comes first: judge the holds, find the weak points, and twist. The dark shape above her snarls a warning, teeth uncomfortably white in the darkness, and squeezes her throat. Her hands strike hard unyielding flesh, rough coarse fabric. She stills, breathing fast and harsh and shallow; under that grip, her pulse hammers. Rina pages: If she can, she's going to look for Jenny. Make sure she's still there, still okay. His voice is familiar, if a bit gravelly. "Just sit real quiet," he says, "And we're gonna have us a real party. Do you believe me when I say that screaming is a /real/ bad idea, Angel?" You paged Rina with 'It's dark. She can't really /see/ anything. Hints and shapes and insinuations.'. Rina tenses, a flash of denial coming to her eyes--followed, immediately, by sick fear. She gives the smallest nod, and he feels her throat tighten as she swallows. He smiles, the teeth re-arranging themselves in the dark, and takes his hand away from her mouth. Something cold reaches up from the floor, clamoring at her upper arms, as his hand passes over the area. "Just a second now, and I'll let you see your girlfriend." Rina draws a sharp breath as that alien cold seizes her. "Please," she whispers, barely breathing the words, voice catching in desperation. "Please leave her out of this." Rina pages: Ew. I wish I hadn't seen Seven so recently. "She begged for her life, and the life of the baby inside her... Oh. You didn't /know/." The Priest smirks unpleasantly. "Like you left your Garou friend out of things? He screamed like a girl, Angel." The slick, oily clamps encircle her o arms, and only then does he straighten, move to stand. "It's a shame... playing with matches can burn down an entire house." "What are you--" Her voice is unsteady, a whisper. "Priest, please, I /had/ to do it, I--" The Priest steps on her words as he takes his feet. "*Fuck* had to, bitch. Did he have a gun to your head?" he snarls as he steps around the bed. He draws the curtain back from the window, metal scraping on metal, and a wan light tries to cast itself around the room. Rina closes her eyes, and swallows. "Please," she whispers. "Listen to me. I wanted to give you that much. Peace. It's wrong, what you are. It's--" "Did you /ask/ me if I wanted peace? Where were you ten years ago, if you wanted me to have peace? You could have put that stake in me then, while I was trapped in a broken car with a broken woman." Footsteps, then the squeak of o bedsprings as something heavy is set on them. "But no. I survived that. Compared to that, /this/ is everything good and right. At least, it was until you killed me again." From afar, Rina | I killed you to save you from eternal damnation, REALLY I did... Rina's breathing catches in a sob. "I wanted t'save you, t'end it, I--" Her voice bis strained now, tearful. "God, please just don't hurt her, Priest, if there was ever anything--" You say "Then it's gone now. I guess you figure you paid me back real good for that night, those two Charlies who worked you over." Click, metal against metal. "Stabbed me in the back real good. Y'oughta open your eyes. You'll wanna see this." Rina's eyes flicker open dully, the shimmer of tears flashing from them. She searches for one thing, and one thing only. Rina pages: Oh, this is bad. This is much worse than killing her. There she is. Pinned to the wall, slumped against it, unconscious. It looks like the wall itself reaches out, grabbing her wrists and holding them high above her head. From afar, Rina whimpers, and hopes he's not gonna kill Jenny. Anguish flicker across Rina's face, and the tears break free. "Please," she whispers, looking to him, desperation in her eyes. "Please, God, just let her go, you can kill me, do anything, but just leave her be..." Her mouth. Her mouth is gone. Between nose and proud chin is a smooth expanse of skin, rippled by teeth below. The Priest steps toward her, scalpel in hand. "I can do anything to you anyway, Angel. You forget yourself." A sick revulsion passes through Rina's expression, and she looks away--the tigereye gaze wide, numb. "Please," she whispers. "Please, remember. Your wife. Remember her. And have mercy. For her, remember her, and don't hurt Jenny, just that, that's all I'm askin'..." The Priest spins on one heel, the squeak loud in the otherwise quiet room. He pauses, then strolls toward her, long black cassock flowing around his feet like there were morbid black puppies frolicking underneath. "Make you a deal. As long as you amuse me, I'll play with you instead." Rina shivers, closing her eyes for a moment. "Anything," she whispers. "Just don't hurt her..." The tears streak down her cheeks, catching at what little light spills into the room. The Priest drops fluidly to the floor next to her, his head falling next to hers. "Never. Kill me. Again," he whispers, breath cold and stale, smelling of o long-closed rooms. "I won't," she whispers, swallowing. From afar, Rina oh, dear god, he's not gonna Ghoul her, is he? Long distance to Rina: The Priest kisses you. "Remember..." he whispers again, "If you scream, she'll wake up. And she'll get to watch. Everything. I do to you." The cold metal touching her belly is a shock, even though it's only the handle of the scalpel, running along her skin. Rina nods minutely, a faint, barely audible whimper coming from her throat. She tries to slow the panicked, rapid breathing, the quick rise and fall of her o chest. His teeth sink into her ear, hard and sudden, and he jerks her head up firmly. His hand on her breast, the scalpel trapped between them, squeezes and caresses, supporting his weight. The lean body stiffens beneath his, shivering. Only a harsh, indrawn breath betrays the pain; the girl falls silent, save for the rough sounds of her breathing. With a last tug, he opens his mouth and frees her ear. With a savage twist, he traps her nipple between the haft of the scalpel and his hand. "You're gonna love this," he murmurs, almost to himself, pushing his leg between hers. "I'm not the only one down here." A quiet, stifled sound of pain answers that rough gesture, and Rina's back arches involuntarily in revolt. "What--" She can hardly gasp the words out, whispering, barely breathing them. "What do you mean--?" The Priest lets his free hand trace across the word 'Angel' on her belly. "Once you're dead, you get to play with everybody else who's dead, gorgeous. Everybody who wanted a piece of you." His face ripples, dark skin blanching disquietingly. Rina swallows, turning her face away as pain courses over the sharp features. The Priest lets go of her nipple, the scalpel sliding across her ribs to clatter to the floor, as he grabs her hair. "*Look* at me," snarls Angelo, his hand sliding under the waistband of her panties. With a low cry she obeys--and then pales, blinking back tears, a pathetic confusion clouding her expression. The fear lingers, deep behind her gaze. Angelo sneers and nods, fingers sliding down, reaching inside her. "That's right," he growls, brusquely releasing her hair. Hair, silver in the light from the streetlamp, drifts across his shoulder to hang before his face. Stark incomprehension still rules her expression, her eyes; a small sound of pain comes from her throat as he thrusts into her. She stares up at him, numb. Impatiently, he tears the scrap of cloth away from her, fierce red marks on her hips the only reminder of their presence. As he pushes her legs apart again, his features slide and grow indistinct again. A hoarse sound comes from her; she shrinks back from him the slightest bit, watching in horror as his face reshapes itself. Bowen, expression twisted grotesquely and a fresh looking bullet hole in his o chest, slides his erection out of his jeans and rubs the length of it along the soft velvet of her lips. His bestial smile, seeing her revulsion, shows off dirty canine teeth. Rina whimpers, a sickened look crossing her expression as she looks away. Her tight jaw trembles against him, warm, alive. Bowen tightens his grip on her hair, pulling her back. "If you don't look at me," he snarls, "I'll stick it down your throat and let you choke on it." He lowers his face to hers, cold lips kissing her fiercely. A muffled cry of despair sounds against that kiss--but she doesn't refuse him, doesn't close mouth or teeth against the invasion, though a single sob comes from her. She tastes of tears and salt. This time she can feel him, his face changing against her, as he deepens the kiss and slides inside her with a firm cool thrust. Her body tenses against it. The penetration is rough, dry enough that he is grimly certain it causes her pain. She does nothing more than allow the kiss, letting herself go numb against the multiple horrors, the nausea, the fear. Cutter fills her, naked under the flowing trenchcoat, as he pulls back away from the kiss. He drives himself deep into her, looking down with contempt, one long-nailed finger returning to the engraving on her belly. Rina closes her eyes briefly with the second impact, wincing, a choked sound subdued before it escapes her control. Her face turns away, dark eyes staring, soulless. A chill breeze toys with the trenchcoat, and it flutters against her body. Then, like a bizarre cheshire cat, he fades and leaves nothing but the coat hovering over her. With a start, she awakens, sprawled in bed. Jenny leans against the window, forearms pressed against the glass over her head, wrists draped above her head, and the sash raised just a few inches. Rina wakes with a low cry of pain, half-upright before she is fully conscious, her gaze focusing on the woman. She stumbles out of the tangled sheets, toward the window. Jenny turns, sleepily, and blinks. "Babe?" she mumbles. "I was so hot..." Rina searches her face, slides one hand over her belly, the other reaching up to check her forehead. "You okay?" Fear, blind terror, is wide awake in her eyes. "Did somethin' wake you?" Spotting. Rina's menses have started again, already. Jenny steps away from the window. "Just hot. Stupid hormones. Din't mean t'wake you, Thelma." Rina pages: You meant me, yes? Long distance to Rina: The Priest nods. From afar, Rina meant she was checking Jenny, in case it wasn't clear. Long distance to Rina: The Priest nods. Everything seems fine in babyland. Rina swallows. "Don't worry 'bout it," she says in a sleep-husky voice. Her hand slides over the curve, and then away. "Just be okay. I'm--I'm gonna take a shower." She steps back, then, and heads out to the bathroom. Rina pages: Is she experiencing anything else? Cramps, nausea? Or does she just feel like she's bleeding, or what? Jenny lets her fingers trail off Rina as the other woman moves away, then turns back toward the bed and studies it sleepily. You paged Rina with 'There's some cramping, yes.'. The medicine drawer opens and closes. The shower runs. For quite a long time, Rina lets the hot water relax her, soothe away the tension of nightmare.
Jenny..........
Priest