Vicarious Divinity [Geneva]

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

In each of her apprentices, Anesia had instilled the will to survive. It went past greed and power. This was necessity. The dose of which was given was different. It was simple in many ways, pass or fail. Live or die. Survival showed worth; it could be that it was how she chose- the ultimate test of apprenticeship. Who would follow her to her grave and back? Who would wait?

Together, in time, it was only a select few that would rise from the ash.

There was a calling, a low purr of caressing commands heard only to those ears. *Ite, sacrificate tenebris. Venit tempus, appropinquavit.

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far far away these plans were etched in stone. It had been set in motion then until such a time called for a new reign. All the demons of the dark crept from their tombs, clawing the stairs of a kingdom cast in shadows. The sinner seekers of power, they followed what was natural.

The cries of her children went without tears, but rather a ravenous hunger of the heart. Theirs were unlike any others; it matched her own. This is what brought her to Serenno.

It was said, the Sith Master left her legacy in many ways protected. A beautiful Garhoon by the name of Geneva Báthory was one. Now thousands of years old, the woman in no doubt would appear the same, much as Anesia did. The link between Master and Apprentice never severing after all the time that had passed. This was the first of her many reunions.

Faint ribbons of the Force reached out, licking at her own signature.

"Lady Báthory." Her voice touched lightly, kissed in power of the past.




@[member="Geneva Báthory"]
* Come, serve the dark. The time has come.

Tool // Vicarious

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Serenno
Čachtice Estate

Deep within the estate, the Garhoon stood in perfect stillness. There was blood in the corner of her lips and a whimpering girl had pressed herself into the corner of her chamber, attempting to pass through it. Geneva appeared petrified, eyes closed shut as blood that was life spread through her veins. Her hunger had been satisfied. Once, in her youth, the Viscountess rebelled against her sister's ways, found enough mercy to fight her urges. The results had been monstrous. Cyrena chose to be the way she was, Geneva's hunger could drive her unparalleled destruction of life. The blood sang to her always but when hungry, it made her an unwilling slave. There was no stopping the monster within then.

Geneva had learned from then. Never to go too hungry. She was of noble blood, allowing the monster free was beneath her. She would never allow herself to go that far.

When the thirst had truly been satisfied and her veins filled with new life, eyelids fluttered often. Eyes black as night find the girl in the corner, her whimper sides hurting her ears. With unnatural speed, that gifted upon her kind, she moved to the girl and knelt down. She held a small cloth in her hands and reached out to press it against the girl's bloody neck. The girl shrieked. "Sssh, child. I will not harm you." Quietly she told the girl. "Hold this to your neck, it will stop the bleeding."

Ite, sacrificate tenebris. Venit tempus, appropinquavit.

Her movements haltered then, her hand remaining on the cloth as the voice had come to her, filled her ears. The call was clear and Geneva took but a moment to recall its origin. It had been centuries since she had heard and yet when the moment passed, the memories returned felt as if they had transpired only a day ago. She released the cloth and stood up, the fabric falling to the girl's side. "Get out." She ordered flatly and turned on her feet. She had nothing more to her meal before departing from the room. The voice had been a summon, a command. Geneva needn't have heard it twice.

Her faithful butler stopped at the side when he saw her. "The girl in my room. Send her home," she ordered and continued on her way without waiting for a response. Geneva reached into the Force, searching for the source of the call, only to feel the lick to her core. It made her stop and inhale deep, taking in the sign of affection.

Geneva moved through the hallways, her mind drawn outside. It wasn't even a question of will, her bond pushed her forward without stopping, turning corners without so much as missing a beat. At last she had arrived to the large massive doors that were the entrance to the mansion. The guards posted there spotted and opened the doors to the inside before she had even given a command, bringing forth the natural light from the outside. She heard the voice, calling to her, black eyes finding the figure she had come to. Her Master seemed as young as the last day she had seen her, ageless beauty reminding her once more of another reason she had admired the Sith. If this woman had not been a Lordess or her own Master, Geneva would have desired her a great deal more. Her blood sang to her though but never enough for the Garhoon to even attempt something. Control was key.

When it reach, her head lowered deep and slow before looking up again, black eyes meeting violet. "Master." Finally the creature spoke, her word soft and yet apparent to the true meaning of the words. Her Master had returned.

@[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Serenno || Čachtice Estate



"You've been well," it was not a question that fell, but rather the offerings of tell-tale signs made vocal. From the establishment wear, to the fresh glow on the Garhoon's cheeks from a fresh meal. She could practically feel the innocence of the young girl's life blood flowing through her apprentice; her face in a predator's wake and the fear that made the last pull all the more satisfying.

Sure, one could deny it, but it would be a lie. Even after the tender comfort you applied afterwards. You simply could not apologize for what you were. You had to embrace it or perish. Anesia had done that very thing so long ago and she grazed a digit or two along Geneva's jaw in remembering. It was a hard lesson in truth, denying yourself and feeling the burn of it until you were so mad with hunger. So mad that it overtook your sense of control.

Resistance is tempering, she decided then. It had taken two years to finally regain the reigns of her life. The memory of the brothel was very real even now, though hundreds of years had passed. Passion and lust. So much it nearly killed her. Anesia could not think of it without inwardly flinching. The Master needed another's release in the same way Geneva needed their blood. They both prolonged life and subdued insanity.

Many referred to her as a succubus. She never denied or confirmed the accusations. "How is the family?" When she moved, her robes ruffled at the hem, her cool gaze lingering in the shadows of her hood.

There were a great many thing to be put in motion, certain things she needed to know. "Tell me the story of the Galaxy, morsel." Not many would know better than a Viscountess that lived through the decades as if they were days. Both hands cupped the nobility's face, drawing it nearer to her yet, spelling soft lips along her own. So perfect, she thought. It has been an eternity.



@[member="Geneva Báthory"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

She neither moved her head in any way nor responded to the words. After so many years, distintiquing trivial things such as functiation had become a far too task. And while for the most part trivial and seemingly unrelevant, it was in fact not. Such things were actually far more important that one would have another believe. The touch of skin to her jaw, the small piece of it on her finger spoke volumes to Geneva. Youth, Anesia Jy'Vun still possessed herself. It had brought a pinch of wonder to the Garhoon. Though such things could wait. She was neither impatient or unmannered. All things had their moments.

Her Master asked of the family. Geneva offered a small smile and a tiniest nod to the side, as if to thank her silently for the question first. "The family is well as always, we change very little due to our lifespans." Time moved slowly for a Garhoon. While the galaxy had gone through plenty and human lives were so frail it was a blink an eye to them, the Garhoon lived their life much slower.

There was of course a larger detail than her family that her Master wished to discuss. The galaxy. She remained silent. There was much to tell yet there was an order necessary to the tale. Not necessarily that of years but priority. Her face was drawn in by the two hands at her side, her lips feeling that of the woman. She inhaled the scent of blood. How good it was she had just fed. That blood had a powerful melody. More so than she showed. It was melody, a poem. Intoxicating. If such melody had been presented to her in another, she would taste without question, without so much as a request. It called.

"There was a plague that struck this galaxy like no other entity ever could," she whispered against the woman's lips. "So much fine blood wasted on it." Prioty, this one took hihest. The Gulag plage had been a strike the worlds would never forget. Serenno included. To Geneva it measured in blood, in percautions taken to protect their noble lives.

@[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"So I've heard..." Anesia seemed distant for moment. "Where did it originate?"

There were sparks of interest, not because she wanted to recreate it... but perhaps to manipulate it into to something she could use. Any information regarding it could prove useful. She ran a soft finger along the bottom tier of Geneva's lips, caught up in the blissful allure of innocence. Her hands moved through the other woman's hair, adoringly. It was moreso the act of a lover than of a master. Anesia often blurred the lines, though it had not happened recently. Not in hundreds of years.

The Master knew well enough that her apprentice had a discreet desire to pull from her vein. It was a thought, that while would turn most off, gave the Sith an underlying sense of pleasure. Perhaps she would grant the desire. Smells of exotic oils, the body's natural pheromones, and the hunger stirred something in her.

"Won't you tell me?" She whispered, burying her face along Geneva's ear, pulling in the tantalizing smell of her hair, the sound of her pulse erratically skipping. Anesia had scraped her own teeth along what would be a main vein on most humans. Power rolled off of her, coating her apprentice in waves of short caresses.

@[member="Geneva Báthory"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

It was a curious question, one Geneva had not yet heard. Such a question told her a little bit of what had happened to her Master in the centuries behind her but nothing exact. "On the homeworld of the Chiss, if memory serves me right. Csilla," the Garhoon shared the information that had been so vital so many centuries ago. That was before it began to spread though, after which nothing but protecting your own borders mattered.

A finger traced against her lower lip before she felt her hair given attention. Geneva often steered from such attention, her pleasure lying in that of blood. Such pleasure were often trivial to her and yet, in times like this, she knew it wasn't a matter of what but who and most fel inadequete in that.

Master's whisper against her ear taunted, the exposed neck of the woman seem to invite her further as the tip of her nose grazed against her neck, inhaling the scent that was now stronger. It was stronger, inviting. Gently, she nuzzled against the vein, exhailing loudly. Though fully fed just moments ago, her black eyes began to lighten, slowly shifting color towards the icy blue while was always a dead give away of her hunger, the feeling intensified by the woman's own move against Geneva's vein. "You play a dangerous game, Master," she whispered, her soft breath bouncing off the neck of the other. Far too dangerous.

@[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"I do, don't I..." she said more cheerfully than she should have. Her eyes like hot molten, swirling... liquid amethyst. Anesia smiled slowly. Darkly. Seemingly dull, manicured nails drew down the woman's neck, only a singular line of deep red welled just under of her ear. It appeared and disappeared just as quickly as a snake of a pink muscle licked it away and retreated back into her mouth.

The Master drew her bottom lip in, offering a slight sucking-pop when she tilted her head back. Both her hands guiding the Garhoon's thin face lower, lips at the swell of cleavage, just over her heart. Anesia offered the vein there, inhaling the air in strings, fingers combing through Geneva's soft, heavy tresses.

It was a very intimate act. There was indeed more to obtaining power than just commanding and instilling fear. She had found that sometimes the simple gesture of give and take worked more wonders and minds more often than the latter. Her heart beat in anticipation, lids fluttering open and shut. "Drink slow, Geneva, savor..." the master's voice lingered softly, caressing her mind, moving further still past the apprentice's core.

It could have been more, she could have done such as she would have wanted. This though, was not for her.




@[member="Geneva Báthory"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

She could not surpress a small smirk on one end of her lips as she took in the woman's tone, so unlike her. Her skin cut, surrendered to the nails of her Master, the highest layers coming apart at the movement and the fresh blood escaped, revealing itself to the one who could see then vanished as her flesh was exposed to a soft muscle, the Garhoon almost feeling the tiniest raspy textures of it as the blood was traced off. From the depths of the woman's throat, a soft sound escaped. It had been an extremely intimate moment, her blood never offered to anyone. But her Master, she needn't have asked, it was hers to take. Geneva did not even have to say it.

The neck that had been so close to her, suddenly parted from her scenes. Thed distance made was more appropriate but her lightened eyes, now ice blue with her hunger awoken noticed Anesia tilt her head back. Her gaze instantly fell to the even more exposed skin presented before her. Slowly, her lips parted as her hunger for blood grew. Her heightened senses could suddenly hear the blood pumping through the woman's veins, the beating of heart guiding them. This was when Geneva knew she was in trouble, when she knew there was no more turning back. This only truly happened in extreme cases of hunger, all her senses zeroing on her victim, the blood. She could practically see it beneath the skin, ever milliliter calling out to her, demanding to be drank.

Her Master did not stop, drawing her head even closer. A drumming within her ears suddenly became extremely loud. It was a melody, louder now than before as her lips felt skin. Geneva inhaled untentionally, took in the invitating smell. Only the purest of bloods could have such a sweet scent; it was her anthem. One she had to have. Through the beating within her ears, seemingly in the distance, she could hear the quiet voice of her Master, telling her to drink slow, to savor. The hungry blue of her eyes turned to ice, the creature within demanding to be released. The game played here truly was dangerous.

The vampiric sentient her lips against the skin for just a breath moment before removing them, parting them. Her gangs, always sharper than the others elonged to their full size, her eyes closing in the process, and sunk into the offered flesh. Her first intake was quick, demanding. She had been hungry for this blood for such a long time but her control had kept her away from such thoughts. But now that it had been offered, she willingly submitted to her own desires. Within her, the Zeltron-Nagai blood spread, surging through her entire being. It was such a rush. Eyelids fluttered open, the intoxicating feel spreading. If this was how addicts felt after consuming spice, she could no longer judge such habits. After the first intake, she slowed down. Drink slow, Geneva, savor..., she remembered then.

@[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

The Master's lids were low, just hints of the violet glowing upon her dark lashes and porcelain skin. Beat after beat and she shivered inward, a trembling passion spilling secrets. Desire the ear to it's calling. It was heaven in the deepest, darkest corner of the seven hells. Anesia breathed it in, soaked it up. Every sensation multiplied as she spun the Garhoon's into her own, bent on knowing it.

This all in essence, not only renewing a bond, but strengthening it beyond a comprehensible measurement. She had learned the other woman's face, the slight curves of her neck and narrow shoulders, the weight and feel of her dark hair. Anesia's breath slowed, sighing even as her thumbs tickled at Geneva's lips, removing them from her ample chest. One last shudder rode her at the extraction of fangs.

A smile ticked on her lush lips, head canting to the side to make the journey to the other's mouth smooth. There was still an underlying hint of the vampire's blood on her tongue, a dribble of her own a light sheen on the apprentice's. She brought them together once more in a soft, succulent press- hands once more finding their way into her hair.

After a moment, she broke the kiss, giving the apprentice an appreciative glance. "We need to finish your training," she said softly, pushing a strand of Geneva's hair behind her ear.

@[member="Geneva Báthory"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

As she drank, Geneva could still hear the drumming in her ears. Each beat was perfectly clear to her. This was usually a guide when she drank but, it edged her own, drummed her into continuing. As if in a distance, the Garhoon could feel hands on her skin, moving upward. That was a second hand sensation to her, no other coming anywhere near blood she was tasting.

Her senses were slowly starting to leveling themselves with each intake. Geneva soon realized that this was not the blood she fed on moments ago or the blood of most mortals. It was different. While Anesia appeared human there were races laced in her that sang to her, called to her. With so much blood tasted over the centuries of her life, Geneva could tell apart the subtle differences in it. This was different and yet similar. But the difference was what had her attention, made it seem sweeter, in both scent and taste.

Demanding hands in the background caught her attention now, her thirst satisfied and slowly, she released her vampiric hold over the other female, her gaze rising to see her Master's face. The ice blue slowly darkened, as if the blood reached them slowly, before they came back to the black shade she had been born with. Her fangs retracted then to their usual sharp position. In their natural position, it would still be obvious what she was to those who knew of her breed but they were for the post part harmless now.

Lips met, meeting a willingly correspondent, her mouth suddenly feeling the mix of her own bood and that of Master's. The combination was not as sweet as Anesia's was alone but the mixture of the two still appealed to her tastebuds making her inhale against the other woman, appreciating what she tasted. And as the kiss broke, Geneva let her tongue collect the remnants of the blood on her fags, swallowing the lasts bits left.

She reached into the two metal circles that adjoined the fabric over her light armor, pulling out a small tissue from inside it. Her Master distracted her from her task only for brief moment, mentioning her training before she wiped the corners of her lips before depositing it back, her black gaze not parting from the other female. "Yes, my training. It has been waiting for your return," Geneva quietly confessed. Most students would seek others to train them when their Masters vanished but Geneva had all the time in the universe, there was hardly a rush in anything she did. And her training belonged to her Master alone.

@[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

A twitch of vindication nudged her lips into the smile, a mere dark brow lifting in response to her apprentice. Loyalty... The smallest of sounds escaped past her mouth before she urged words to form, and then finally flow from her throat, "What have you learned in my absence?" As smooth as it was firm- akin to that of silk, but as bindings- her voice slid between the mere inches between them. Small, practiced hands moved over [member="Geneva Báthory"], from cradling her thin jaw then on down to her lithe shoulders. "I need to know where to begin, Lady Báthory."


Times had changed, but Anesia had not, and while there were only a handful of true apprentices that she trained, they were taught in the ways of old. Now more than ever, the Sith would call upon tradition and recant the ways of the darkness. Of Sidious. Of Bane. Of Nihilus. Of Sadow, Revan, Kressh, Nadd, and Ragnos. "What is your passion, my lady?"


You must fall before you rise. "What are your weaknesses?"

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

In her absence... Geneva's gaze lowered for a split second before her eyelids rose just enough to see [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] as she shook her head. "I haven't actively sought out anyone. I don't trust anyone to continue my training. And my sister isn't exactly... offering." That was the truth of it. Despite all, if there was one person beyond Anesia who Geneva would consider teaching her, it was only Cyrena that she would consider. But that would never happen...

So where would they begin? "Exactly where we left off, Master," Geneva responded and offered a tiny smile. Geneva had her basic powers as well as her element. It was really the only place they could start at.

Her passions? Her weakneses? Geneva remained silent. The answer was obvious. The first one at least. But Genevera said nothing for a bit. And then finally, when she spoke, she looked up and gave her response: "The first one is always the blood." Those that knew, knew this to be true. Blood was life. A passion. Her strength and her weakness. There were some other ones but they were all second and third compared to that one.