Such potent defiance he harbours within, nestled in the belly of her favoured feline and how desperately he nurtures it. It does not deter her in the slightest, she has learned to expect it of him. It only made it all the more fun to dissect it and slowly peel it apart. Truly Tetradore made things so much harder for himself, but that devilish woman would have it no other way. How that very notion brings a disturbed smile to her lips, his torment is her game. Oh, the things she had in store for him, carving out a little place within her twisted mind, where she concocts a private hell made just for him. After all, she would not allow all that former training of her panther pet to simply go to waste. Even though is distinctly irritates her how quickly he forgets himself along with his place her. Thankfully for him, her sordid well of ideas never dried, at least not for him. It was almost too easy to embrace those darker appetites. It was only a matter of time before she drives him mad, or leeches away every last ounce of defiance before he gives way to that true hopelessness. How it is one that she craves.

That very promise of this makes her almost anticipatory to that very potential. But first, she must set those standards once more, smooth out the stubborn wrinkles of the habits he had formed since she had gone away. Two years and his own death was certainly nothing in comparison to the eternity of hell she would inflict upon him. How short sighted he was to the very future that would eventually devour him whole. So go on cling so desperately like a child clings to its mother to that fool hearted apathy, Tetradore. Cling to it, for apathy is feeble thing, a weakened armour so easily stripped with the right leverage. It will never be enough against the pummeling apocalyptic force that was Risqué, not when those very eyes were beset upon him.

Her icy fingertips rake through his acquainted tousled locks, they entangle within those loosen waves, how she strangles those strands before none too gently yanking his head to the side for that astute examination. That bite mark was all but gone. How displeasing that very sight was, to see her mark so easily removed. Her gaze narrowed in that fleeting irritation. How easy such things were to remedy? If he was so quick to heal, perhaps she should keep him here to maintain those wounds. There had to be ways to make it last, those very concoction of potions were some of the very things she had been working on over the years. If Tetradore was so certain on defying her in every way, she would find ways to make it infinitely more difficult. There were always ways to keep those wounds raw and gaping and so very complaint to her whims. That promise that she would hardly be gentle slips with a disturbing ease from her lips, but her voice is like a sensual moan, her wicked plan already in place from the start. Yet even still, his defiance seemed so stubbornly locked in place. Fool.. but... a decidedly entertaining fool to break. One that had proven to be incredibly useful. That sudden lash of her affinity strikes him thoroughly, her little feline had no hope against it. How quick he was to forget that she always got what she wanted.

Her examination of those glorious bruises that painted his flesh was almost too shortly lived. How quickly her hand shoots out to find its relentless, hold that jaw. She was far from done. That defiant growl rumbles from him and how it rips a dark chuckle from her lips. Oh Tetradore, still such a boy with notions of hope. He actually believed those words, actually thought he had a choice. How.. absolutely adorable. At least in that very moment, how easy it was for that view of him to alter. How that grip upon him never wavers, her fingers digging just that little bit more as if to see if she could hear the groan of bone or pry the sweet sound of agony from his lips. How close she hovers to his displeased face, how that snarl was almost reminiscent to one from his teenage youth. She stares him straight in the eye, undisturbed. "You will worship me if I desire it." That horrifying, knowing smile slid into place exposing those fangs, ominously, her tongue almost craving that blood of his once more even though she body still possessed so much of it. She could smell it, so close to that surface as if it anticipated her as if it beckoned for her. "My little alpha.. Your mind may think it does not.. but your body was built for it.. Even now, it responds to me. Your mind will soon follow." How it pleased her, how it amused those fickle appetites. How that very fact so easily parts from her, like the way dark eats light in the evening. For every sun rise, there was a sun set. He would only serve to be that predictable too. How her hand trails across his face in what seems so tender but how she grew bored with this familiar banter. It was always the same with him. How rarely did that man surprise her and yet here they were again. It only made victory that much sweeter.

Just like that, that game was hardly enough. She demands for him to stand at his familiar spot by that wall of silver and pain. She runs an idle hand through those the blue-black silken pin straight hair. How those very tendrils tickle and worship the exposed skin upon her back. Her predatory pale gaze watches him slowly meander to that wall. How slowly he moves! Like a snail beckoning to be crushed. How soon she would have that all fall away. She idly bats away his protective, protesting arms that encase his body like sliding curtains that block out her view. The Feline goddess wanting nothing more than to play him like the sweet instrument he was. She greedily presses against his ribs like they were the keys of a finely grand piano. His sweet cries were not disappointing as was any sound that parted from his lips. That dance has him backing into that burning silver, only to have him drawing closer to her. Right where she wanted him. How she relished in that sizzling pain, how that scent of his burning flesh was like a cologne in those very poignant moments. It would have been easy to play all night, to leisurely watch him come undone after her adept fingertips, to play as a reminder to his seemingly short-lived memories.

With that taste for her own stolen enjoyment, it felt like foreplay to the true festivities of the evening. What an appetizer to that main course. It was then, shortly after her quick but steadfast summoning of power that what seemed like Tobias' form was dragged and discarded into the room. He looked almost dead, but that would not do. No, the 'man' needed to appear alive, just enough to pluck those strings of fear within Tetradore. It did not take long to produce that desperate pleading. No, that was not enough, it never was, especially with all his relentless insolence as of late. Even with her name declared so urgently upon his lips! Oh, the sound of him begging was delicious. How she hardly expected for the dessert that came before that meal.

How did it feel Tetradore? To have the carpet pulled from your feet? How poised she was, a slender hand placed upon her hip, overtop the satin fabric of her form fitted dress that worshipped her very figure as though it were poured on. Cat got your tongue dear Tetradore? He seemed so frozen like a statue. "You should have considered the repercussions to your latest attitude and recent stunt. You have earned this, not anyone else. I will never understand your attachments to the little leopard..." She pauses a reverberating hum singing within her chest before continuing. "I want to see what you look like when those attachments are severed.. by none other than your own hand." How his blood would be a brilliant thing when she was through with him!

What does that taste like?

How quickly her alpha submits. How quickly he offered what she desired, but it was a little too late. Very little would stop what was about to happen. No matter how much he pleaded or seemed transfixed on that leopard. That horror seemed to play across his brilliant emerald eyes. No. He defies her still. What a foolish game her feline plays, even know.

"No?" No one said no to her. Her voice is free from anger and yet it is no less disturbing. She walks that feline-like gate, sinuous and poised to the other side of Tetradore's companion, with 'Tobias' in between them, her powers secured tightly and adept.

"Mon chat, you do not have a choice. When you did, you chose to wear my patience instead of pleasing me. Now we learn... again like so many time before.. what happens when you defy me. Again and again for as long as it takes until you give me what I want. Until there is nothing left in that pathetic little life of yours that you hold so dearly." Did he think they were alive because of him? No, no, no. They were alive because she allowed it.. A sick little experiment to give him something to live for.. something to die for. The moment they lost their... appeal.. they would simply not exist for him anymore.

"Non?" She repeats, that French lilt woven so strongly then. How it is almost like snide mockey! "Then... kill him, piece by piece. He serves no use to me.." When will he learn?

Growing bored waiting for Tetradore to move she directs her affinity not at Tetradore for now, but to the leopard heap. "Oh little leopard.... Be a good little cat and bite off your own tongue for Tetradore. So he does not have to do it.. It would seem he has lost his nerve." Poor baby. Her powers reach out for the leopard before her on the ground, as she slides around him so that now that very image of Tobias lingered between Tetradore. It was then that horrible grating cry left that spotted creatures lips! What a dreadful sound, it hardly took long for the delightful scent of blood to fill her waiting nostril, she drew in that breath.

"Do I have your attention now, mon chat?" those eyes shift to Tetradore once more, while her crimson lips quirk into a content smile.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on