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Post by starrea on Apr 1, 2020 21:14:37 GMT
Life was different than Cyra had imagined it, but she wasn’t complaining. After she had stormed out on Destrian and Ari, she just kept going until she found people. Cyra had no idea why she had been so nervous in the first place because as it turned out, people loved her and she was a good fucking dancer. Money ended up not being an issue either because men bought her whatever she wanted as long as she flashed them. The only disappointing thing about the night was that she hadn’t gotten drunk and not from lack of trying. She stopped counting after 30 shots of a variety of drinks and hadn’t even gotten the least bit tipsy. But in the end it didn’t matter because she had a blast, even without alcohol. She couldn’t believe she had gone so long without human contact and now that she had a taste of it, she was surely addicted.
The only problem was that she would never be able to fully have any kind of life as long as Destrian was still around. It bothered her that even though he wasn’t there, she constantly felt his hold on her. The thought of him leaving her in isolation again had scared her before but after her night of dancing, it was paralyzing. She couldn’t go back to living like that, she wouldn’t.
Her plan wasn’t very well thought out. It had started as mindless ranting because she had never had someone to listen to her and last night, she had the undivided attention of almost every guy she ran across. It was exhilarating to watch them as they watched her, hanging off of her every word, hoping for something more. It was almost too easy to manipulate men but Cyra found that it didn’t make it any less satisfying. She hadn’t actually expected anyone to want to defend her honor or some bullshit, but when Owen (Cyra thought his name was Owen, anyway. She didn’t really care enough to remember it) offered, she couldn’t say yes fast enough.
So that’s why she was stumbling back to the cabin at nearly six in the morning with an extremely drunk man following her. She was giggling, her hand snugly tucked in his as she tugged him along. Cyra had never been so excited in her entire life and her body buzzed with anticipation. The best part was the Owen had basically offered to beat up Destrian for her, but after a few more shots and some groping, he agreed that Destrian needed to die.
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Post by Val on Apr 5, 2020 3:07:52 GMT
Destrian had always been an early riser. He didn't much enjoy sleeping since it was the only place he felt defenseless and exposed to distant memories. And so, he was wide awake and preparing for the day as Cyra approached the cabin. Ari was out on a mission, and he planned on returning to Raevaryn castle to fulfill his daily duties as a soldier. He needed to show face and avoid suspicion until he was fully prepared to abandon the kingdom for good.
He had just finished breakfast when his panther stirred and slunk toward the front door, alerting him to the approaching intruders. He followed suit, but he already knew who it was. He could feel Cyra's presence growing closer and prepared himself for whatever drama she was about to bring to his day before he opened the door.
It was rare to find Destrian not fully dressed and composed, but he stepped out onto the front porch with bare feet, black pants, and a loose fitting undershirt. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the stranger beside Cyra, picking up the sound of her giggles. He crossed his arms over his chest and sized the man up, looking annoyed when he realized the fool was drunk, "Who is this?" he questioned Cyra disapprovingly. He had told her to remain under the radar, not bring strange men back to their safe house.
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Post by starrea on Apr 5, 2020 18:48:35 GMT
Cyra had never given much thought when she destroyed towns and crushed people to their deaths. They were insignificant. She had always gotten her thrills from the pure act of destruction and the chaos that ensued, but now she could see the allure of planning a murder. It was thrilling. She could imagine Destrian’s still body on the ground, surrounded by blood, and the validation of all the pain and suffering he had caused her. Best of all, she would be free.
She heard Destrian before she saw him. Her eyes quickly found him in the low light of the morning and she was partially surprised to see him so casual. Destrian was always extremely put together, to the point of being annoying, so it was surprising. But that didn’t matter and she excitedly tugged Owen behind her, flashing Destrian a big grin.
“This is... Owen.” She hopes she got the name right. Or if she didn’t, she hoped he was too drunk to notice. She turned to Owen, lowering her voice, “Owen, that’s him. That’s Destrian... please help me. I don’t want him to hit me again.” Her voice cracked a little bit she didn’t really have to act too much. He was too drunk to notice her shitty acting.
Owen’s eyes narrowed at Destrian and he staggered up the stairs, giving him a hard shove back. “You think it’s okay to beat women? Huh? You a tough guy? I’ll fucking show you what happens to people who beat women.” He cocked his fist and swung, aiming straight for Destrian’s face.
Cyra watched from the bottom of the porch stairs, enthralled by the performance going on just a few feet away from her. She couldn’t interfere but she was hanging off of every second, anxious to see what would happen next.
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Post by Val on Apr 5, 2020 21:44:07 GMT
Destrian narrowed his eyes as Cyra whispered to her companion. He could only imagine what kind of nonsense she was spewing to the loser to get him to do her bidding. He remained still as the man stumbled up the stairs, falling back a step in response to the shove. As the drunkard exposed the lies that Cyra had been feeding him, he tensed and prepared for the inevitable fight that was about to ensue.
He ducked as Owen swung his fist, allowing the momentum of the punch to throw the man off balance. Charging forward, he tackled Owen at the waist with enough force to send them both flying off of the porch and into the grass at Cyra's feet. Destrian landed on top of the other man and tried subdue him by pinning his arms to the ground.
Jynx the panther appeared at the top of the steps, hissing and preparing to lunge. "No!" Destrian redirected the cat, not needing his companion's help for this. Unfortunately for Cyra, Destrian was not easy to kill. He was a highly trained soldier who focused all of his neurotic tendencies on a rigorous training routine. Before he'd joined the ranks of Raevaryn, he been somewhat of a brawler in his youth; while some people took to the bottle, he preferred adrenaline. Cyra would simply have to do better than this.
He cast Cyra an enraged glare, "End this, Cyra," he demanded, his tone holding a clear warning. If the man did not give up, he would not hold back.
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Post by starrea on Apr 5, 2020 23:22:12 GMT
Cyra couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in Owen. She had gotten lost in the excitement and hadn’t properly prepared and now the flaws in her plan were more than evident. Her grin slowly faded as Destrian knocked Owen on his ass, but she realized this hadn’t been a total waste of time when Destrian shot her a glare. Even if he didn’t die, Cyra still basked in his anger and the thought of him maybe being forced to kill Owen was an intriguing possibility she hadn’t considered until just now.
Even if Cyra wanted to, she doubted she could stop Owen. Drunk men were hard to reason with, especially after they got mad. Instead, she just took a step back, just far enough that she was sure she wouldn’t accidentally get hit. She cast a wary glance up at the large hissing cat, keeping it in her peripheral vision. The cat liked her just about as much as she liked it and unfortunately for it, there was no magic protecting it if it tried to attack her.
“Or what?” Cyra taunted, egging him on. The buzz of forcing Destrian’s hand was turning out to be almost as good as watching him die. She could see how angry he was and it only made her want to push harder. She wanted to keep pushing until she pushed him right over the edge.
Owen was dazed when he hit the ground but he started to struggle beneath Destrian when he felt himself get pinned. “You sick sonofabitch!” He snarled. When he couldn’t get his hands free, he slammed his head up into Destrian’s face.
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Post by Val on Apr 6, 2020 22:24:10 GMT
Since his gaze was fixed on Cyra, Destrian failed to anticipate the blow from Owen as he reared his head up. Destrian's ears rung as the man's forehead made impact with his nose. Everything started to slow down as adrenaline pumped through his veins, allowing him to focus solely on the idiot that had dared to attack him. Slamming Owen back onto the ground, he drew his fist back and punched him straight in the face with a satisfying crack. He punched again, and again, and again, until Owen was left sputtering on his own blood.
Destrian swiftly got to his feet and circled his victim- or was it Cyra's victim? It didn't matter now. She had managed to unleash his temper and he was allowing himself to get carried away. It felt undeniably good to take his frustration out on a useless punching bag. He looked like the embodiment of his panther as he stopped pacing and remained vigilant, waiting for the fool to either submit or continue the fight.
"You know what," he growled in response to Cyra. In the back of his mind, he knew he was giving her exactly what she wanted, but that knowledge wasn't enough to stop him.
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Post by starrea on Apr 6, 2020 23:27:10 GMT
Cyra watched Destrian’s fist pound into Owen’s face again and again with morbid fascination. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as Owen’s face started to morph into something unrecognizable, blood pouring out of his nose and mouth. Destrian’s knuckles were raw and red with the drunk’s blood, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat. He looked completely primal and the way he stalked around Owen after he got up was the same way a predator eyed it’s prey.
For the first time, Cyra saw something she had in common with Destrian. She couldn’t remember seeing this side of him when they were younger but her memory was hazy. He wouldn’t be able to deny that he enjoyed this, that he enjoyed punching a stranger nearly unconscious for no good reason. And by the look in his eyes, he didn’t want to stop. Cyra had already pushed him this far and she wondered how much farther she could push him.
It added another layer to their relationship. For the first time, reconciliation seemed possible. They weren’t as different as Cyra thought they were and that opened up a whole realm of possibilities. Cyra wasn’t even upset that Destrian wasn’t going to die tonight. This was turning out so much better than she ever could have planned.
“I’m not in control,” Cyra said with an impassive shrug. It wasn’t a complete lie. Despite having orchestrated this entire scenario, she was perfectly happy to sit back and watch it play out however it happened.
Owen lay on the ground, dazed after having his face punched in. He coughed, some blood spurting out of him. Lucky for him, he was so drunk he barely felt any pain. When the world stopped spinning, he rolled over and climbed to his feet, swaying unsteadily. With an angry growl, he lunged at Destrian in an attempt to tackle him.
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Post by Val on Apr 8, 2020 0:22:30 GMT
She was right; she wasn't in control, but Destrian was. He flexed his fingers as Owen started to get back up, reveling in the sting of his knuckles. It had been a long time since he'd let loose. Ari had pulled him away from the need for darkness and violence, but now he was like an addict getting a fresh taste of his drug of choice. The frustration from the past few weeks had finally caught up to him and Cyra had inadvertently fed him a body to take it out on.
He braced himself as Owen made another attempt, dodging agilely at the last second and using a leg to knock the man's legs out from under him. As the drunkard crumpled to the floor, he knew he was being cruel, but he tried to convince himself that it was all to prove a point to Cyra. Grabbing Owen by the arm, he dragged him across the grass and deposited him at Cyra's feet. He took hold of the back of the man's shirt and yanked him to his knees so that Cyra had a perfect view of the battered victim, "You brought him here to kill me." He didn't need confirmation from Cyra, he'd been anticipating it from her, just not so quickly and so poorly thought out.
Destrian took hold of the man's arm and twisted it behind his back in such a way that he would have to break the limb to be free, "You will never kill me, Cyra. Not you, and not any of the pathetic fools you manipulate to do your bidding."
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Post by starrea on Apr 8, 2020 3:28:52 GMT
Cyra had initially been watching Owen; watching his face cave in and blood spurt out in tiny red droplets and then gush out like a river that had broken through a dam. She had always found beauty in the way things could just break, especially a person. But now, her eyes were locked onto Destrian. She had never seen him this way, she had never seen him so lethal and predatory, and it was beautiful. He had obviously worked to push this side of him down but she could tell that now that he was being who he was meant to be, it was like a breath of fresh air.
The drunk obviously wasn’t a challenge for Destrian but that didn’t matter. Ideas and possibilities started racing through her mind and she wondered if he would try to repress this side of him again afterwards. She wouldn’t let that happen, especially since she now knew the key to unlocking this side of him. It was so wasteful to try to be anyone other than yourself. There was so much more joy and satisfaction to be had when someone was genuine. Why fight what was meant to be?
Cyra’s body was practically humming with excitement as Destrian forced Owen to his knees in front of her. Cyra had never thought in her wildest dreams that there would be an outcome better than the death of Destrian, but this was starting to look like it would prove her wrong. This was something new and she fully intended to explore this new side of Destrian.
“I will admit that this attempt was sloppy. But you know what they say about failure - you just have to try again.” And Cyra would try again. Her murder plot had suddenly turned into a delicious game and she was playing to win.
Owen groaned as Destrian forced him to his knees and twisted his arm. After the beating he had taken, he was starting to fade in and out of consciousness. His head lolled forward and blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth onto the ground, coloring the grass red.
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Post by Val on Apr 8, 2020 21:38:25 GMT
Destrian stared at Cyra, his eyes becoming dark and endless pits. He wanted to hurt her. It was a dark thought, brought to the forefront of his mind as she so carelessly threatened his life. He never should have let her out of her prison, but there she stood- a constant reminder of everything he hated about himself.
He tightened his grip on Owen's arm, aiming to cause pain. He wanted Cyra to know that he was capable of doing the same to her. Without his permission to use her other form, she would be virtually defenseless if he actually chose to hurt her. Except, Destrian knew that he couldn't bring himself to do so. Even the thought of hitting the girl made him nauseated. Why could he so easily beat this innocent man to a pulp, and be incapable of doing the same to his enemy?
Suddenly, he released Owen's arm and stared down at his victim. The sight of the pooling blood caught his eye and he stood rigidly for a long moment, a million thoughts and memories racing through his mind. Destrian had been called evil many times in his life. Maybe it was because of his appearance, where he came from, the curse he was tied to, or a combination of all those things. Or maybe it was just a simple fact; he was evil. Sometimes the good in him outweighed the bad, but today was not one of those days.
In the span of a few seconds, he reached out and gripped Owen's head, twisting it with a calculated jerk of his hands. The man's neck snapped instantly, the sickening sound loud and clear. The body went limp and crumpled to the ground at Cyra's feet. Destrian remained as still as a statue, staring down at the empty vessel of the person he had just murdered in cold blood.
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Post by starrea on Apr 9, 2020 0:00:33 GMT
Cyra watched as Destrian slowly unraveled into something dark. She could see him struggle with it but he was too far gone to fight it. She knew that he loathed the chaos and destruction she thrived on but she hadn’t known that he harbored her same impulses. It started to make sense why he hated her so much - it wasn’t just about her. He hated himself. No matter how much he hated himself, he clearly couldn’t fight the addiction and she didn’t blame him. The high of being an absolute force of destruction, the power to end someone’s life, was like no other. Cyra didn’t have to kill Destrian to ruin him, all she had to do was give him a couple pushes in the right direction and let him ruin himself.
She only raised an eyebrow when Destrian twisted Owen’s arm and the half-conscious man grunted. She could feel the hatred roll off of him in waves and she knew how much he wanted to hurt her but she wasn’t scared. Destrian was probably the only person who could hurt her, even kill her perhaps, but she doubted he would lay a hand on her. She almost wanted him to hit her. The pain would be worth watching him descend further into self-hatred.
Cyra’s heart almost stopped beating when Destrian dropped Owen’s arm and just stared down at the bleeding man. Maybe she had misjudged how far gone Destrian was, maybe he was more resilient than she thought he was. If Destrian walked away now, this whole damn night would have been a complete waste of time.
Destrian, for the first time, didn’t disappoint her. The satisfying crack of Owen’s neck echoed in her mind and she knew she would never forget the look on Destrian’s face as he twisted Owen’s head around the wrong way. There was no regret.
Cyra’s lips twisted up into a smile and she took a step forward, close enough that the only thing that separated them was the dead body between them.
“I guess we aren’t so different after all,” She mused quietly, looking up into his dark eyes boldly.
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Post by Val on Apr 9, 2020 3:09:21 GMT
Destrian's eyes were fixated on the dead body between their feet, feeling absolutely numb from head to toe. He waited for the negative emotions to catch up to him, but they never came. No remorse, no disgust, not even stress. Rather, it felt cathartic. Like striking a deer between the eyes with a perfectly shot arrow. The man had been nothing more than a vessel for his rage and he made full use of the opportunity.
He knew that the regret would eventually catch up to him, when his mind was clear and Cyra wasn't standing before him with a grotesquely smug grin on her face. But never in a million years would he show that kind of vulnerability in front of her. Instead, he remained stone cold as he met her gaze.
"I'm not like you," he replied coldly. He'd always been in denial over his sadistic tendencies. The fight between good and evil constantly raged within him. While Cyra embraced the evil, he detested it. He wanted so desperately to be good, and he had been for a very long time, until he made the mistake of bringing the past back into his life.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't lock you away again." His tone was dead serious. If she was insistent on ruining his life, then he had no further use for her. He could survive on his own.
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Post by starrea on Apr 9, 2020 3:36:10 GMT
Cyra could almost see the inner battle rage inside of Destrian. She couldn’t imagine existing in that state or turmoil, it must be exhausting to constantly fight with yourself. She was doing him a favor, really, because after Destrian was ruined, the inner war would cease. He would be free of the cage he tried to lock himself in.
Now that she knew this side of Destrian existed, she almost understood. It didn’t take away the years of isolation and suffering, but it made it easier to accept knowing that he hadn’t locked her away solely because she was a threat. He did it because she was a reflection of himself and by locking her away, he was able to push his darkness down far enough that it almost didn’t exist.
She found herself yearning for a connection with Destrian that she knew he probably wouldn’t give her. He was the only real person she had a relationship with and she wanted something other than pure hatred. It was the first time since he had abandoned her that she didn’t want to kill him but she wasn’t about to tell him that. He didn’t need to know how badly she wanted to connect with someone.
Cyra rolled her eyes as he continued to deny what they both knew was true but her casual attitude evaporated when he threatened her. She straightened up, her impassive-almost-bored look morphing into a glare. Underneath it all, a very real fear of being abandoned nearly paralyzed her. She tried to hide how hard it was to suddenly breathe.
“Don’t you dare,” She hissed, “I won’t try to kill you again.” She offered after a second because she knew he would dare. He already had and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. She couldn’t think of anything to bargain with. She didn’t have anything he wanted and she couldn’t promise she’d stop being a pain in the ass. Despite being attracted to this new side of Destrian, it didn’t ease the pain he’d caused her. It just opened the door to reconciliation.
“And maybe I can try to be open to making things better. Between us.” Destrian had just shown her something she was guessing he didn’t allow others to see and his vulnerability inspired something in her. Maybe it was mix of the high of watching someone die or the possibility of having a real connection with someone, but whatever it was, it was allowing Cyra to show Destrian a different, more accepting side of herself.
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Post by Val on Apr 10, 2020 1:03:21 GMT
Destrian stared back at Cyra, his expression a carefully constructed mask that revealed only what he wanted her to see. She didn't seem to grasp the gravity of what she'd done. Either that, or she was far too selfish to care. He'd relapsed into a long forgotten version of himself, and now he was left to deal with the aftermath. The least of his problems was reconciling with her.
"You expect me to trust you?" Destrian might have been the one trying to gain her forgiveness before, but this incident had ultimately changed the dynamic between them. He could tell she liked what she saw. It didn't surprise him. If Cyra truly wanted to make amends, she had a lot of work ahead of her. "I don't think you're capable of redeeming yourself," he informed her harshly.
His gaze slowly returned to the body between them, desperately needing to dispose of the evidence of what had occurred. Sure, he'd killed many men in his lifetime. But someone innocent and helpless...that was unacceptable in the moral code he'd defined for himself. Ari herself was an assassin, but sharing this episode with her did not seem like an option. He knew then and there that he was going to break their vow to be honest with each other.
Turning away, he made his way back into the cabin, heading straight for the closet that held an assortment of old tools. He found a rusty shovel and swung it over his shoulder, returning moments later to the scene outside the house. He wasn't the type to waste time dwelling over his mistakes. No, he would dispose of the body, finish his morning routine, and get on with his plans for the day. Grabbing one of Owen's ankles, he began to drag the limp body toward the treeline, hardly giving Cyra a second glance.
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Post by starrea on Apr 10, 2020 1:32:36 GMT
Any vulnerability Cyra had shown was instantly replaced by anger. That was the first time she had tried to be anything other than angry with Destrian and he had thrown it back in her face. She felt stupid for even trying because at the end of the day, nothing would ever change between them. He wasn’t sorry and she wasn’t going to forgive him.
She met his impassive expression with a raging scowl and burning eyes. She never cared to try and stay as reserved as he did. Her body hummed with the desire to explode into a cloud of smoke and smash through something but she felt the curse tighten around her.
Cyra almost stalked off when Destrian turned around to head inside but she didn’t. She couldn’t let Destrian have the last word. She didn’t even entirely disagree with him, because she wasn’t sure that she was redeemable, but he needed to know that it was his fault. He didn’t really seem to understand it but whether he liked it or not, she was a product of his actions.
Cyra followed him when he came out, glaring at him as he dragged the dead man. “You don’t even fucking know if I’m redeemable because you won’t try. You told me you’ve changed, but you’re the same asshole who left me ten years ago. I own my fucking actions but you keep doing the same damn thing and expecting something different. If I’m not redeemable, it’s your fault. You’re not even fucking sorry and I’m supposed to go and what, be good? Pray? You are the closest fucking thing I’ve had to a parent and you fucking left me, and now you’re being a bitch because I’m not doing what you want. Well fuck you because all you taught me to do was do whatever the fuck I want and not give a fuck who gets hurt. You can take your expectations and shove them up your ass.”
If redemption meant being anything like Destrian, she wanted no part in it. But still, she had a point to make. She wanted him to know that everything that she did from here on out was a direct reflection of his actions.
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