Feed the Horde

[Nox]

There was an itch, a scratching at his head. The horde clawed at his mind.  They had been fueled and there had been no relief.  The violence was only a small factor. It had brought up memories. It had kick started old memories and then he'd found Sae in the bedroom dead. He needed to find Ori to take the edge off.  She sent a set of coordinates. He didn't expect much more.  And if she wasn't there he'd ask Sage to track her. Though he probably owed his friend quite a bit. He owed Ori.

And since he was taking public transportation around Moscow and she was likely riding around on her bike he could easily lose her. But if she found something to numb herself she'd stay put.  At least hopefully long enough till he caught up with her.

Nox arrived at the coordinates in a very seedy neighborhood.  The bar was some local hole in the wall, the neon flickering just enough to make things eire and creepy. He walked into the bar. It was just the sort of place Oriena liked.  He looked around for the leather clad woman he was looking for..

[[ I'll let you decide if Ori moved on or not ]]

[Oriena]

She tore through the streets, dodging city traffic that was often standstill even at this time of night. By the time she parked up numbness replaced the volatility of her emotions, an equilibrium that wasn’t likely to last, but it wouldn’t be the first time Ori sought a fight to ease the demons inside. The bar wasn’t in a neighbourhood she was familiar with, but it was shitty on the outside, and no one glanced twice at a woman with a spectacularly bloody nose when she entered. In the toilets she wiped the worst of it away, testing the taste of iron on her lips. She didn’t think about it, even when her eyes rose to settle on her reflection in the mirror.

When she returned she dumped her leather jacket on the bar. The smoke of the fire still lingered around her strongly, and the barman eyed her dubiously, but didn’t hesitate to bring her the vodka she asked for. She downed the glass, asked for the bottle, and cleared herself a booth to sit alone in fucking peace. Feet propped on the table. Bottle in hand. Tension corded her muscles in an effort to ignore the whispered conversation inside her head. Not the ijiraq’s demands upon her, not now at least, but the constant drone of their communication between themselves.

Nox badgered her wallet at one point, and she shared her coordinates without much interest in whether he showed. But she was still there when he did.

[Nox]

Oriena sat in a booth with her feet on the table and practically drinking out of the bottle. He didn't approach her first, grabbed a bottled beer and let the bartender open it. He wasn't here to impress anyone with any little tricks of the power. He was here for one thing and one thing only -- and Oriena wasn't impressed with anything he could do with the power unless it involved violence or sex.

The place smelled of sweat, dirt and spilt alcohol. He didn't dare embrace the power if his nostrils were filled with the grime already. The horde lingered close, the scratching inside his head was excited and eager as their quarry was near. Oriena would beat the shit out of him if he ever told her the horde thought of her as prey. But it is what it is and he turned with his beer to walk across the floor to where Ori sat. He didn't sit down, or invite himself to join her. He did step into her line of sight, not that she hadn't already noticed he'd entered, and took a sip of the only beer he'd have. Being drunk was never anything he enjoyed, and he much preferred to be in control while the horde had the advantage.

The beer bottle hung down at his side and he licked his lips. "I've had a helluva few days. You look about as bad as I feel. We need you. The inferno stirred up shit." He was hungry, but not for food. There was a promise of violence and sex in his eyes and voice. It wasn't rage that fueled him, that had past. He'd dealt with the object of his ire firmly and fully and now that he was letting horde feel the anger and pain and everything of the past few days he let it shine through brighter than any flame. Ori had seen him in his darkest places -- she was probably the only lifeline in that torrent of emotions and the only person who would understand even a fraction of what it meant. Their differing monsters abusing their minds and souls.

Nox offered a hand. "Join me in feeding the fire?" He wasn't begging. He hoped she'd accept. She'd never turned him down yet. He wasn't here to be smooth or sexy or even wanton. He could find what he wanted elsewhere. He didn't want to go anywhere else, he enjoyed Oriena's company. If she were sitting at the bar or in any way possible he could get behind her he might have taken a bit more action, but stuffed in a booth with her feet up was not inviting people and Nox knew better than to presume Ori would do anything he asked.

[Oriena]

Her eyes followed him when he drew close. Little of consequence strayed across her expression, but likely he knew her well enough by now to recognise the turbulent depths to her attention. Silence answered his plea, and she wondered how long she could leave him on that hook. It was intentional, and cruel, and in such cruelty she recognised the flames of her own anger. He’d have done better to haul her to her feet; not given her the chance to think about it. But, despite the violence that often exploded in their time together, it had never been like that between them, and she knew he wouldn’t do it.

Eventually she lifted her long legs from their perch on the table. Nox’s actual preferences had nothing to do with his carnal affliction, and she let him watch her body as she stood. He’d be stupid not to.

To the hand outstretched for her acceptance, she thrust her vodka bottle; didn’t wait to ensure he grasped it before she let go. There was darkness in her gaze; sex and violence were only ever marked by a shallow line in Oriena. Both hands shoved him back hard, fully intending to send him to his ass, or at least take him by surprise. “You nearly fucking died.” She snarled and followed with a step, unplacated and without let up. No power swirled around her, though the fury was nonetheless genuine. Not because she cared what happened to him and his hero-fucking-complex, but because she cared what happened to Kallisti.

[Nox]

The bottle pressed into his hand and Oriena was already moving to shove him. His hand reflexivly snapped around the bottle so as not to drop it. That would be bad. Oriena without her bottle was never a good thing. He didn't have anything else to offer her on him. Though his connections were getting better and he could find Oriena something and once he actually made his home a home he'd have something else on offer. But for now he only had what they had now or purchased later and purchasing usually cooled the vibe. And he didn't want to be cooled.

His thoughts were interrupted when Oriena's hands landed and he fell backwards, the bottle safely in his hand as he landed. "Fuck." Nox growled. "I was fucking kidnapped and tortured and I'm at fault." He didn't get up and he didn't yell but the fury inside boiled enraged by the violence. But to be fair he didn't have to burn the place down he could have just gotten away and come back when he was feeling better. But he didn't tell Ori that.

Oriena took a step forward as he fell and Nox stood up aware of the the proximity of which he stood when he did. Nox put the mechanical hand on her hip still holding the bottle. He didn't put any pressure on it, just a gentle touch for now. Now they had eyes on them. Violence would only get the cops. Nox reached into the emptiness that held the power but didn't need it, he wanted cold harshness of his emotions. "They deserved worse than what I gave them. You saw what they were doing to that kid. And I was next."

Fury rose and Nox tugged her closer with is hand and put the other at the back of her neck and leaned in whispered. "Thank you." He pressed hard against her lips. A rare occassion he felt the need to push what he wanted.

[Oriena]

“Yes you’re at fucking fault.” She spat it like acid. He was wrong if he assumed she gave a damn that he’d burned the place to the ground (with himself inside it) or that he’d killed the kids. Nox was capable and he could look after himself. Ori understood vengeance. But it didn’t mean she forgave how feverishly close to death he’d felt when she’d hauled him to the hospital. He was the bulwark that stood between Kallisti and annihilation, so he didn’t fucking get to die. Not before she did.

It was fortunate he stood. She wasn’t in the mood for mercy, nor in tempering herself against the metallic press of his hand which came to rest on her hip. The fury in her sparked and darkened. She didn’t hold back much with Nox these days, and nor did the audience of a shitty bar sway her from causing a scene. Fight or fuck, Ori never much cared which.

The thank you pissed her off, irrationally so. She bit him, not gently, but neither did she stop the kiss – only battled him for control of it. Her hand reached to clamp his throat.

[Nox]

Oriena's teeth sank into his bottom lip and he groaned with both the pleasure and pain of it. The metallic taste stirred the horde. The scratching grew insesent, almost purred as her hand closed around his throat. They were giving the other patrons quite the show and it could get a lot more violent and with less clothes. The horde didn't want to move, and honestly neither did Nox. It wouldn't be the first time they didn't make it to a bed, but it would be the first time in an absolutely public place with an audience.

That was just what his reputation needed. Kallisti didn't need the attention, and one of them had to think. It would some how get back to the club. As much as he knew he should take it someplace else he didn't. The hand holding the bottle on her hip pulled her closer. Things could escalate fast...

A bottle crashed at their feet, and a shout from behind Ori shouted in a very gruff Russian accent, "Get a fucking room." Nox's mechanical hand slipped around Oriena's waist holding her against him possessively, but if she decided to move away from him he'd let her.

[Oriena]

The groan only fuelled her inhibitions. Not that Ori had many of those to begin with. But she paused at the smashing around their feet. She was just drunk enough that it took a moment to understand, and then low, sinister laughter hummed in her throat. The promise of chaos glazed her darkened eyes, and a smirk twisted the swell of her lip. She’d only pulled away a little; enough that her expression was solely for him. Her hand was still splayed against Nox’s throat. She knew she was playing with fire, that the instincts compelling him were the ones to possessively draw her close. It should have been a warning, but it wasn’t one she heeded.

Her eyes slitted to the side. She didn’t turn, just scraped her boot through the broken glass at their feet. “I have a fucking room,” she said. The bar wasn’t a regular haunt; the patrons here did not know her. But they were probably going to remember her.

The power savaged in. Ori wondered how deeply Nox’s heroism went. How quick his reflexes were. Should he care to stop her, anyway. She met his eyes; wet her tongue against the blood on her lip, and grinned.

“Get out.”

[[I’ll PM her intention; you can stop her, or not]]

[Nox]

Oriena broke the kiss with laughter deep in her throat. The horde knew the laugh, knew the violence that was about to follow. A cold tingle rose along his spine as she embraced her power. The horde rallied in his head, drew on the darkness. The desire and pain, her hand around his neck a hard reminder who claimed power. Nox had no problem with that claim, or what she might do with it in that moment. The horde fueled his desires. His mind didn't fight hard against the horde. He was tired. Even though his body was healed, his mind was weak and tired and the mental exhaustion only set in when he knew Oriena would handle things.

There was a thought about the innocent lives at stake, but big tough Russian men who throw bottles at couples displaying affection in the bar didn't deserve his mercy. Much like those who helped the Rougarou feed didn't deserve it, only hours before. That fire raged inside still unfetted by the healing. The horde latched on and Nox knew he should act but he didn't. There was a brief moment that Nox knew he could draw upon the power and do something, but he didn't know what she planned and he didn't want to get hurt himself either.

Glass shattered around them. It was like a chorus of chaos as the glass in the man's hands broke and their precious liquids spilled upon their hands and whatever else was in the liquids fall towards the ground. Mingled with the various drinks was mixed blood as their hands shreded in the explosion.

The bottles behind the bar shattered with such force that small shards of glass pelted the Nox's back. He'd be cleaning small shards of glass from his clothes for months. He was grateful that this clothes were going to be trashed later. Burnt to a cinder along with those people.

The men in the bar shouted. Nox wasn't truly aware of those around him, his eyes never left Ori's as she grinned at him. He spoke in a distant voice, not devoid of feeling, just cold and distant. "I'd do as she says. I'm not of the mind to stop her."

Three days he was held and tortured. Three days of being trapped in his own mind. Three days the horde did not get a reprieve and it was not going to let go know that Nox had given them control. "Leave them be." It wasn't an order, no command in his voice. Maybe there was a hint of begging but only a hint as he leaned in and kissed her hard. His bitten lip ached but he didn't care. What happened next was all up to them, and to Oriena. He hoped they left. He hoped she'd leave them be if they didn't, but Nox let the horde have what ever it wanted in that moment -- it didn't care. Violence or sex.

[Oriena]

He didn’t stop her. Ori wasn’t sure whether or not that surprised her in the moment given he’d prised her from Jensen only hours before. Glass shattered amidst shouts of pain and anger, and she felt the pelt of it, but it was peripheral to her attention. Coldness wrapped Nox’s words; his face was a mask. Tired. She didn’t look around to the challenge of her own careless carnage, because she was only interested in the sport in front of her. Around them the lights flickered and plunged in warning – to any who foolishly lingered, or to Nox for what she might do next – Oriena didn’t even know herself. She was exactly the sort of monster he was pledged to stop. Unrestrained. Discontent. The energy was frenetic inside her, anger undoused, and she didn’t care who she took it out on. The world would burn on the whim of her frustration.

Leave them be. He would have done better to phrase it as a command; push her buttons in return, because the smoulder in her gaze burned to disdain for the hint of begging in his tone. Her grip of him loosened, and she moved to casually shove him away. Only to be crushed by a desperate kiss instead. 

The savagery saved him from rejection, and her reaction was volatile and possessive. Where he pushed she pushed back, not wanting the weakness of his insecurities. She didn’t know any longer if the tang of blood on her tongue was his or hers. Her nails dug like claws into the dark threads of his hair while the other hand thrust under his waistband, because if he was tentative with seeking permission, it never lasted once they were both riled. And they were never gentle with one another. Ori manhandled him backwards, until her back slammed the wall of her booth, and the hand in his hair tightened, pushing his head down.