❴ THOUGH THE SILENCE ❵ was a means to show her dissatisfaction with him and conjure some sort of regret the World Eater found little use in her ploys. Sanguine eyes remained vigilant. From her face they fleetingly stared upon his scaled hands, virgin gauze stained with ink, trailing so that he peered out the rear mirror. Anxiety simmered in his core, sure that every moment his eyes laid upon the reflections of the world left behind their travels there would be the odious presence of the enemy. The nip to his cheek released an unconscious, glottal noise not far akin from a growl, eyes - the darkness around them giving the illusion of sunken - glaring at her.
❝ Hero is far from the correct statement. ❞ A pause. ❝ Do not go home. ❞
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to call it,” she snapped back. She hit the brakes hard, jerking them to a hard stop a hairsbreadth from the car in front of them. Her horn blared and the car ahead of her beeped back. “Asshole,” she breathed, her knuckles turning white, then green, against the steering wheel. At Alduin’s request, she shot him a look. “Giving orders now? You can’t do that unless you tell me what’s going on.”
❴ EM HAD PROVEN ❵ a jovial and highly expressive individual, so it was painfully obvious as her exuberance figuratively withered and curled away. As to not alarm her of his noticing, he forced his expression to lax, though to not fall entirely out of touch. Though concern knotted in his chest, and his eyes did slit playfully a moment, the reassuring peck and smile helped only slightly to shoo away any form of reaction. Once he had been slighted himself by someone close to him ( though he was sure their tales would fall very differently ), and made no promise to take care of such demons himself; it was satisfying to DESTROY your own hauntings, and almostinsulting for others to do it for you.
It was a welcomed compliment, one that conjured a grin upon his face without conscience action to create it. Briefly he glanced down, then back up again with a g l o w of warmth so distant from his atypical, frozen stare before his other arm draped carefully across her back and he pulled her into an embrace, speaking softly into her locks of snakes.
❝ The honor is mine. ❞
The little things; the tender expression and concern that flickered just after her face fell, the warm hug that followed, those little things that had her relax. Alduin was not Poseidon, no matter the power he could wield at his fingertips, he would never hurt her, and if he did? Well–Athena did not curse her for nothing.
Her snakes nestled around him as she curled into the embrace, the warmth welcome after the chilling reminder. When she pulled away, she smoothed his dress shirt and fixed his collar, eyes flicking once at his state of undress. “Maybe I should get you a pair of pants that aren’t so restricting, hm?"
❴ CLANGING UPON THE ❵ cracked steps, the anceint weapon fell to the ground, fingers rolling to ease his joints from the death grip that had shown no mercy to the hilt. Gaze was concerned with the surrounds as the final steps were taken towards the flashy BMW. A single fluid motion opened the door, slid himself in, then sealed it as quickly as possible. Her demand of staining the finery of the interior went nearly unheeded besides a sound of acknowledgement protruding from his throat. Stretching his hands before him, he studied the strange manifestation. Veins had darkened into black snakes beneath his greyed skin, dark bags beneath his eyes. The dovahkiin hadn’t the symptoms he showcased, making the numbing sensation of such scaly growths all the more irritating. Looking towards her for the first time since he had entered the vehicle, he found himself gracious for her quick recovery, though chagrinned all the same.
❝ I had told you not to come. ❞
She would have been otherwise preoccupied with leaving the weapon, especially one as archaic as Alduin’s, but with what his viselike grip had done to the hilt, and what had sprung from his arms, she knew there likely would not be any fingerprinting, and no DNA traceable to the dragon’s black ichor. Em’s eyes again drifted to his arms, then his puzzled expression. She would not pry yet, not when she was about ready to tear his head off. With a few sharp, illegal maneuvers, she was speeding off back towards the penthouse, silent for some minutes before she replied, “And I told you not to play ‘hero’ when the sun’s still up.” A snake shot out from her wig and nicked his cheek with dagger-sharp fangs.
❴ NO FURTHER MESSAGES ❵ came through the communication device, its bright screen glaring up at hime blankly with the time. She never listened. He had not been telling her to keep away as a male who had won her affections, but as a Nordic god. But black letters on a small screen could hardly convey the imperative nature and tone of voice. Once he rolled his fingers into the black stained gauze wrapped around his palm, the ends catching upon hooked claws. Long strides carried him through the desolate, abandoned bank back towards the surface. A steel, bloodstained sword gripped in another fist of claws. Dark, scaled protrustions had ripped through the jacket he’d stolen [it was better than his blood stained one before], eyes darkening into the the sepulchers of crimson. He would have to meet her before someone else did. As nice a vehicle has hers would attract attention in these ruins of Chicago.
The tires of Em’s custom-made, black BMW Alpina B7 screeched in tandem with the hisses of her snakes as she rounded the corner. One of her snakes was loose from the wig, coiled tightly around her phone. Find My iPhone pulsed on the screen. She thanked Athena for putting the idea of adding Alduin’s phone to the app into her head, then cursed the goddess for not helping her brute of a boyfriend. Could gods from other pantheons even help each other out? If not that, then perhaps knock some sense into him? Do your random, irrelevant thing as always, Grey Eyes, she muttered to herself, then floored the gas pedal. It was not long before she met up with him, right at the outskirts of the slums. Before she even stopped, she was rolling down her window. “Get in.” His current state would be terrifying to a human, and it just took one call from police to fuck up their lives. Em’s eyes zeroed in on the bloodied sword. “Don’t get blood on my leather."
❴ THE CURVE OF ❵ her smiles beneath his touch, accompanied by that intoxicating giggle curled his own expression into one of content. Her adventuring hand made his skin prickle with electricity (an eerily addicting sensation unable to be felt beneath scales) so much so he had to break the contact of their lips so he could expel nervous chuckle that forced its way to the surface. Embrace brought her closer, as if she would call the affections off at his lapse.
❝ I think I can accept this condition. ❞
"Good,“ she breathed against his lips, then moved to trail kisses from his lips downward, nuzzling the crook between his neck and shoulder. "Still sleepy?” Em did not stop her motions as he embraced her, or even as she maneuvered herself on top of him, knees pressed against the mattress on either side of his chest.
❴ BROWS PINCHED CURIOUSLY ❵ at first, carefully following the lurid movements, though could not find words to say. The first peck received a small smirk, the next a hand p u l l e d at the fabric of her gown and slowly applied more pressure, and the last spared a hand to cradle her cheek and draw her closer. Where one would end, his lips would catch hers again. He had not lied when he said he was fond of them, and such wonderful gifts were beyond their worth in comparison to rest.
His movements, the gentle tug before his lips sealed with hers had her giggle softly, the grin was still present as he kissed her, and soon she was returning it. Heart pounding, a fevered hand brushed down his chest swiftly, then back up under the fabric, feeling the smooth rippling of his muscles as he breathed.
⟫»—> No matter the simple fact he had even brought her back to the bed, it appeared that sleeping further into the morning was now out of the question. His chest rose with a yawn, but he was careful to control it as tired eyes parted and glanced up at her, nerves bristling along his scalp as she ran her delicate hands through his mane of hair. There was alwaysone condition. A smirk broke the expression of weariness and he placed both hands at the curve of her figure.
❝ Is there? What might that be? ❞
She pressed her arm to the pillow, just above where his head was. “If I’m going to stare at something this delicious,” she murmured as her hand continued to soothe through his hair, “I’m going to want to have a taste or ten.” Leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his lips for only half a second. Her snakes nuzzled his jaw and behind his ears.
❴ Those unacquainted with ❵ magic, especially the height of his own, seemed to all dwell in the same emotional response. Lips twitched, pursed, then fell back into a thin line as they had gone to smirk before stifled. Though, her immediate expression of approval was quite intriguing. She did not continue the ridiculous questioning of his methods, which would be a lie if he said he was not grateful for.
Watching her grip at the mane of locks atop her head, she removed her scalp in a single, bloodless motion so fluid he blinked twice before his mortal mind could piece the image together. Serpents draped over her shoulders, extensions of her being that flicked their forked tongues and stare upon him with beady, black eyes. Brow rose, and head tilted.
❝ Geh. I have heard of your kind, though it was said that the Blades killed the last of them in Akavir. Though, krosis, part of me believes you of another lineage. Nirn has been without the vith-joor for many moons. ❞
Her snakes reacted to the word “vith-joor” with a rattle and a hiss. It seemed to please them more than anything, but there was also the twinging emotion of reverential respect. Though Em did not understand what he meant by it, the idea was relayed through the synapses firing within her snakes.
"Likely distant relatives. My ancestry extends to the Mediterranean region of this world. Mainly lands of which the Olympians took control over.“ Thoughts of her fellow gorgon sisters rushed to her immediate memories and she held no comparison between them and her very fair form. "I wasn't always like this, though."
❴ HAD HIS EYES ❵ still not been lingering upon the female in which their conversation had ensued, perhaps he could have reacted before the e c h o i n g strike caught onlookers attention, and delicate, soft fingers left the red mark upon his visage. Open mouthed, he stared, almost betrayed, down upon his prakem, eyes wildly flashing about - for they did not necessarily know where to look now - as the joore’s body flared with unsettled, burning nerves.
❝ Wha-…? I was justagreeing with you! ❞
She was shaking her head, rage simmering just beneath the surface. It was meant to be a test of loyalty, maybe on account of slight j e a l o u s y at the young woman with a softer angled face than she, a small nose and hair as fair as a princess, and not only that, but she was a sweating mess in her fitted sweatpants and sports bra jogging about the park, and yet he looked on.
