*...Possibly more than he can imagine?... Oh, that might, actually be the truth. Yeeyan has been bereft of some pleasures. Of the sweetness, of the softness, of the gentle kisses bestowed upon a cheek, with no other purpose than to delight. Yeeyan cannot sense those things. He cannot want them, he cannot have them. Happy delight is a thing taken from him. Friendship, and love. Taken away. He has been devoid of it for so long, that he no longer knows how to appreciate it. But on the other plane... On the pleasures of pain, of aching, hunger, darkness, there is nothing he has not tried, and fully divulged himself in. Nothing he has not tried, and excelled in. He is a master of those arts, even if he is like a virgin in the arts of normal desire. His desire is dark. He cannot know anything but that*... Appetites... *he breathes, huskily, his voice dark and velvety, again, a piece of midnight stolen, to reign, like a lord of desire, within his throat... Almost catlike purr, raptor look in deep crimson eyes. He shifts, coming slightly closer, the air around his tall shape heated, almost sizzling, as if his very skin is afire. Pleasant heat, sybaritic, gloomy strands of silken hair caught by a soft breeze, and entwining with the even darker wisps of Rikki's mane. He breathes in, deeply, the scents, delicate nostrils flaring, eyes drifting partly close, pleasantly, eyelashes tickling his skin, teasingly... Gates opened again, both to the sanguine depths of his eyes, and to parts of his mind, allowing only a streamlet of his desires to waft out, like the sigh of a god, both bitter and sweet, dark as Erebus, fully tainted, and yet fully pure. He is what he is, and even if he once wished he were not, the choice was long since taken from him. Delve into it, and breathe it, become it, or be drowned by it, choking in his own blood.*... I would devour... You... *faint, dark, slithery voice, like liquid pleasure slowly dripping down a woman's breast, feeding upon her virginity. A trace of humour in his eyes, dancing past, making it impossible to know if he is merely jesting... Impossible? Nay, not at all... Not if one takes in the stance, the way he leans slightly towards Aerik, his eyes both hungry, and already satiating their hunger, both feeding, and already giving back... Red depths, sucking in, as if they are gateways to other dimensions*

*The slithering tentacle of desire snakes from the priest's mind... and encounters extremely well built shields. Rikky feels none of it, save the fact that a link of sorts has opened, that there is, now, a pathway into and out of that mind. He isn't foolish enough, however, to test it, to look, to grasp, nor allow. The streamlet is wasted on the youth. Completely and utterly. Lost. It is not shared. And he doesn't feel the heat... he had, as soon as he'd emerged from the warm HQ and into the cool night air, set his temperatures. He is capable of controlling every single minute response of his body; from blinking, to hair growth, to cellular repair, to restoring a limb and manipulating DNA. An elegant creature, he doesn't allow such mundane things to affect him. His mind compensates, keeps him at a comfortable level. No heat, and no chill. And pleasure... physical pleasure... Rikky simply smiles, lowers his lids, calls forward that stain of pink over his supple cheeks, his perfect face... and blushes at Yeeyan's words* You would like to try. *he says it in such a way, that it has more of a tone, than the ability to catch the words... just a murmur, quiet, of dusky velvet, of spice and satin, dark, smooth... not at all like the challenge it could be. Demure, coy, almost shy... the picture of unblemished perfection... and small amusement in his eyes, shielded and smoked over with his lashes, his long, inhuman lashes* But trying and doing are two impossibly different things. *and he looks up then, eyes glinting, smile held... and he doesn't break stance*

*He chuckles, a smooth, sumptuous sound, dark melodies interwoven, and then carefully wrapped through the air... Blocks, shields... How... dull. Not that it intrigues him, slightly, but... still... So much missed, and so much pleasure denied... His every sense is open, catching up all signals that might thrill, twirling through the air. In stark contrast to Rikki, Yeeyan -enjoys- the mundane. The pleasures of the flesh. Every little tingle, and every little shiver that the physical form can arouse, every sigh that drifts through half parted lips, and every scent that lingers, enigmatically, in the air. To deny any of -those- would be, to Yeeyan, to lose half the fun. The chill in the air, or the heat of it, the feel of rough winds against his smooth skin, or the tearing of flesh, rending of tissue, as something wounds him. He -can- heal. He -can- control... If he would want to, nothing unpleasant could ever touch him. But then, that would be the loss of all amusement, to him. For to him... There is nothing that -is- unpleasant... Except, perhaps, the lack of those emotions, and sensations. There are reasons to why there is only -one- person in this world, or any other world, that Yee hates. Good reasons. He takes a step closer, used to towering over people, it brings a slow, sensuous, luxurious smile upon his lips, to find himself almost eye to eye with this perfect little creation. Yeeyan loves the flesh. He loves what the flesh can sense. He loves the slow, spreading feeling of arousal that makes his skin tingle...*... Trying and doing are only different things, if you do not succeed... *the velveteen voice spills from his lips, like midnight honey dripping, covering a forbidden apple... Sleek, silky, lubricious... Light glows upon features smooth as monumental alabaster, but of a pale, golden colour... Again, his eyes leaves Rikki's, but this time to move down, and in a slow caress, indulging, following the gentle curve of those lovely lips, lingering there... heavily lidded... ruddy shadows glowing upon his cheeks, riddled with the darkness of his lashes... *...

*...Oh, but Yeeyan misses entirely the kind of creature Rikky is... an open mind is a playground to him. What the boy can -do- with it far escapes Yeeyan's narrow-mindedness. Indeed, what is here, this utter prize before the priest, is most likely far beyond his comprehension. And his god, in its, maybe, strict control of things, misses it also. One who can bend DNA to his will can accomplish far more than rending flesh... far, far more. The mind is -his-. Not Yeeyan's, perhaps, but Rikky can turn any unshielded human mind into something that surpasses the once-elf's limited understanding. /Telepath/. This is -hardly- limited to thoughts alone. In fact, thoughts mean little to Rikky. He can change those, expand them, manipulate, and control. He can erase, implant, hide, cover, destroy thoughts. He can warp, enhance, change... he can mold flesh, switch genders, kill... force to live, force to die, /hurt/ as none can comprehend the word. How? Through the mind. There is simply so much -more- than just the flesh. Allowed to, Rikky can do -anything-, he can /be/ a god. In more ways than one. The flesh... its nothing. Literally, nothing. The pleasures of it he can invoke mentally, or he can shut down. So much power here... for the mind controls it -all-... all responses, all chemical pushes, all hormones. All structure. /This/ is the Eshva's world. Total domination. Pain or pleasure incomprehensible. Why -would- it intrigue him, then? he is master of such things. Amplify, redirect, push areas never used... unimaginable what he is capable of, if so allowed. And this is what interests him... not the paltry, simple enjoyments of Yeeyan. He encompasses it -all-... it's all Rikky's, all at his whim. Or it could be... Unpleasant has absolutely nothing to do with it* I suspect... *he whispers through his smile, eye to eye, that hard gleam still present, so at odds with his demure posture, or the appearance of it* ... you are not used to failing. Am I correct? *the heated gaze over him seems to be unnoticed*

*Again, he chuckles, softly... Purr of sound through his lips, eyelids lifting again, heated gaze within. He pauses where he stands, silken strands of sanguine midnight wrapping around him, played by the wind, or playing with it, impossible to know. Rather amusing, for someone who would know of them both, how different ways one can go about things.... One beginning with the mind, and altering everything from within... And one with the flesh, and forcing the mind to adapt, or to be crushed under the weight of pain. Simple minded? Oh yes, but that is Yeeyan's strength. Simple minded, and able to be so. Boosted by a god constantly guarding his back, constantly riding his mind. Cut off from some things, and then thoroughly exposed to others. He seldom touches any man's mind, if not to torture by it. If not to alter pleasure to pain, or the other way around. He likes to see the way a mind reacts on its own, to what the body suffers... But none of those thoughts crosses his mind, now. His vision is filled up with Rikki, and with the road before Yeeyan. When he considers one option, seldom are the times when he bothers with... other things. Other thoughts. Totally focused. Flashlight mind, flashlight emotions... Wonders lived through, and then not remembered as the body picks up new sensations... not until the new experiences can be used*... Perhaps, perhaps not... *...seldom fails, indeed... Not in his own book. There are those, of course, that has had minds too strong to be bent to serve Mauxxecha, or minds too weak. But that does not mean that Yeeyan -fails-. He wins, still. As long as -he- can enjoy. He is an egoistic creature by nature, striving to accomplish his own desires, and to bring himself, and his deity, to new heights. Precious little toy, he. *... I tend to satisfy more often than not.... And if I do /fail/... *slightly ironic cast to that word, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smirk, making those dark eyes glitter like gemstones, deep and depthless, satin promises within, satin chains, and velvety whips... tender touches with clawed hands... *... I continue, until satisfaction is reached... *another trickle of laughter, dropping low like rain fallen from the sky, both crystalline and heavy, cool, and yet heated to the point of boiling. Games. They are beginning to bore him. He is a man of action, not of words.*

*Still, only one facet... Rikky embraces all of them. Mind under body duress, body under mental strain... all of this interests Rikky. And Yeeyan, even in his encroaching boredom... is pleasing Rikky. Oh yes... the reactions of a predator who finds his prey is not so easy a target. It loses interest, as all predators tend to do. Too difficult a -kill- and they turn away. Or -would- Yeeyan turn away? Finally, Rikky alters position, supple, nubile, his form unseen by Yeeyan ever before (though, had he looked one time, long ago, he might have been privileged to cast eyes upon a Vazdru)... he cocks his head, gold bright in his eyes, dying moonlight tracing whispers of cold shadow over his face. Yes, Yeeyan was becoming bored while offering pleasure, of a kind, to Rikky. Egotistical indeed. The youth smiles. Precious little toy...* Oh, of that I have no doubt lovely Yeeyan. No doubt at all... *he trails off and lowers his gaze, allows himself to trace the shape and swells of Yeeyan's lips, the sweep of his cheeks, his slender neck... then matches eyes once more, after a thorough and almost physical search, heavy weights, his eyes... like caresses* And if all your efforts are not enough..?

*An eyebrow arches, like a slender crow lifting above the burning sea of his eye, and his lips, again, mould into a perfect smile... One to defy his mortal shape. Mortal shape? Oh, laugh at that notion!... Yeeyan has died many a time, and every time, his form has been recreated, in its perfection, by a God who knows how to... wring every drop of exquisite beauty from existence. This form... Yes, exact by every eyelash, and every ripple of golden muscles, dance of delight, as dark red eyes twinkle... stars... Bored because he cannot have his prey?...Nay... Bored because Yeeyan has never had an interest in speech... Because a mouth can be used to so much more... elegantly arousing... things... *... That, treasure, has never happened... *a small shift of posture... a vulture of desires basking in the sun of Rikky's gaze, devouring every touch of those burnished eyes, his eyes narrowing slightly, caress of almost feminine lashes against cheeks as golden as that wonderful gaze... *...But, none the less... *still, faintly amused... Yes, he is only one facet, but honed into perfection in such a way, at -his- subject, that should he ever fail, there would be none that could accomplish the feat... He bites his lip, softly, dark eyes intent, palpable obscure, feeding, drinking... Snowy teeth against golden skin, like a sunset over a field shrouded in snow... A hand rises, trailing fingertips in the air just inches, breaths, away from an ivory throat, graceful enough to make any swan seem a clumsy thing, and any albino snake a slithery worm... *...Should it occur, I do not doubt that there are ways to win even the most celibate of virgins... *another rush of laughter, trickling from his lips, weaving around them both, dark and husky, rich and velveteen... Satin...*...Do you doubt me?...*he breathes, softly, the other eyebrow following suit, forming a perfect bridge over the depth of his eye*

*But for Rikky, the two go hand in hand.. speech, action, thoughts even, the mind... it is all one, just different angles. And he finds it very interesting, Yeeyan's desire to forego talk and simply -do-... it speaks volumes to Rikky, and he's very quickly summing the basics of Yeeyan up. Not just a creature of sex and pain and pleasure, but much more than that* But none the less... *Rikky lifts his chin, smiles a bit broader, lids halved over his large, glorious eyes. And true that Yeeyan may be one facet honed to perfection... but Rikky's interests move towards more complex. One form honed to all... in true, a totality of perfection. Dark can be the whims of such creatures as this lovely Eshva* There is always a first time. *Tiny hiss of breath, so quiet, so soft... almost gentle sounding. The vanities... these had long since been overlooked. They meant less than the flesh. That which Yeeyan and his god know to entice so many are lost on one who sees far deeper, who knows such things can be shaped, altered... -recreated-. He stands there himself a recreation. Why would such things matter to him? They don't... they don't* Doubt you..? oh, I do not know that I would say quite such a thing... *and he grins, baring a sliver of his pretty white teeth... his eyes shine bright, flash, in the shadows*

*Slowly, he leans forward, a brush of air against Rikky's cheek, his voice pitched low enough so that it just seems a whisper of the wind.*... Well... *...Oh, but Yee -is- a simple thing, some might think. He is a simple piece of a whole, a piece of a broken mirror, a ruler of a small world. But does he need more? Does he want more? Why seek for something else, when he is perfection in his state?... Why try something more than what he has, when all he ever needs to do... is to return to his temple, and be submerged into never ceasing passion, for the rest of eternity. Oh, but he does seek new sensations, and new experiences... But does he need it? Does he really -want- it? Or is, to him, one ache, the ache of his god, really enough to still his hunger, for all time. To know all things, is not always to be perfect. It is to be flawed. It is to have no need of new things, or new wants. Yeeyan considers himself -perfect-, but the wants and the cravings built up within him always forces him to carry on, seeking out new things... He was knowingly created flawed. He is Mauxxecha. He /is/ somehow, the deity in its youth, before it became what it is now, perfect, but still just a bottle waiting to be filled up, always out on the look for more, more... Craving. Wanting. Desiring. Demanding. He is of passion, of action, of learning through physical encounters, or mental... As long as he learns through pain, because that... is something Mauxxecha has made sure of. Who knows what he would have been, if left to his own devices, once, before he was stolen from his mother...and raped her...*... What -would- you say... ?*like threads of silk, his voice weaves through the air, creating a tapestry of immense splendour... Yeeyan.. Beautiful. But oh, so very, very insane. Mind ripped apart, and spread out through Mauxxecha's existence, only pieces kept, and those... abused...misused...time and time again, until nothing remained, apart one single being, that could hurt Yeeyan without him enjoying it...Even being turned down arouses him...*

*Simply two different views.. two different whims. Rikky's are not the same as Mauxxecha's, they are less static, more dynamic, broader. Such is to be expected, given the creatures they both are. And denying arousal to Yeeyan was -never- Rikky's aim. Rikky matches the lean forward, matches the tone of voice, silk for silk, splendour for splendour... velvet to velvet. Neither one outweighing the beauty of the other, almost a mimicry. And he smiles, a line, somehow almost insufferable, but far too amiable, and too dusted-over with answering darkness to be as such* I would say... you should try harder. You have far to go yet. But you are learning. *Win... Yee spoke of winning over even the most celibate of virgins. He has yet to get any kind of rise, aside from the first tiny tug, which could not even be called that, more an -awareness-, from Rikky. In the boy's opinion, Yeeyan is slacking, barely even trying, relying too much on only one snare, one kind of trap. And it simply isn't working. Whether that bothers Yeeyan or not is not the issue. He had wanted Rikky... he would have taken if allowed... he is unused to losing, indeed, he said himself it has yet to happen... and in Rikky's opinion, for what the Psionic is going for, anyway... Yeeyan is losing. Badly. Rikky straightens again, smiles, and winks. Satisfy? Not yet...*

*Oh, to put it simply... Yee is getting bored of all the talk... He shifts, slightly, closer, eyes heavily lidded, and veiling the expression within. Of course, his body cannot hide anything. Yeeyan is seldom one of manipulation... He is straight forward, craving, and actually... quite honest, most of the time. Why lie, when most of the time... the truth is so much better. *.... Try harder? Learn?... Oh, but Aerik... *he purrs, voice dripping with intentions, and wants...*... That -is- what I always do... How utterly dull would it be... if I did not... *his mouth curls, slowly, a sensual, sexual, utterly beautiful smile, the dance of his eyes much reminding of how the wolf howls at the moon. Ah, but Rikky is...delightful... But not as attuned to Yeeyan's tastes, as for example, some of the other... treasures... he has come across. Tahmas. Romag. Nightflame. To name the three he has, probably, enjoyed the most so far. Heated air, unsensed by Aerik, dark lashes lowering further, until he closes his eyes entirely*... If you are... more skilled than I... I am most... eager. *he chuckles, the sound a melody of different intonations, and meanings, almost as if several voices speak in unison, all smooth and satin. Ah, but they -do- compliment one another... One snare. One kind of trap. Perhaps, oh dear gods, the only one Yeeyan is interested in laying. At least consciously. He seldom, oh so seldom, relies in anything but his simply breathtaking beauty, his scent, his natural sexuality that is so immense it can simply be smelled in the air, and the emotions that drift from him in heavy waves. Such all ignored. If he has -still- not caught someone's interest, more often than not, he simply turns his back.... But now, he leans forward, cheek brushing ever so gently against cheek, ivory sliding across burnished gold, as he whispers, intently, into the other's ear*...But then, you might well be mistaken...

*Not as attuned? Not as generous, perhaps, not as concerned... not as /accommodating/. Oh no, not at all. Rikky has no god to service, to collar to force him to do anything, no trainings to warp his mind and perceptions, none of that. That he is free from all interference is wholly untrue, of course, but not along those lines. There is no answer in Rikky to Yeeyan... he simply doesn't -care-. But attuned. Oh yes, this he is* More skilled? oh, most assuredly so. Yours are severely lacking, lovely one. *Rikky leans in, lips slightly parted, slight tug to their corners, lids lowered and lashes casting shadows on his now unstained cheeks, pale and smooth, white. Would Yeeyan turn his back? Would he fail the hunt of words? Prove prey and not, for once, predator? He is a man of action... and terribly crippled as such, for he would turn his back on a treasure indeed. And at that thought, Rikky's smile widens, catches moonlight on his teeth, sparks in his mouth. And leaned in, he too, is whispering directly into Yeeyan's ear, warm breath sliding over the auricle, like the further promise of a moist, heated tongue to probe... but he doesn't, he merely murmurs* Eager.. I can well see that. Able? I do not think so. Just as I do not think I am in any way mistaken... Yeeyan. *the name, a breath of air, like a lover's imploring gasp in the dark*

*...Not able? Laughable notion. When it comes to... such matters... Yeeyan is more than able. Rikki's little games... the little whisper, and the cute eyes... Oh, well, they would surely entice someone else, these things. Elegance and graceful small hints... But Yeeyan, is far more... primal than that. The seduction and the temptations. Yee has no interest in them. And the only reason that he bothers, is that Rikki /does/ intrigue him... Lack of skills? Pretty little mistake, by Rikki. When it comes to Yeeyan's skill, there is nothing that is lacking... Apart from satiation, for he cannot be fed enough with passion to fill him up. He chuckles, darkly, slightly amused*... Ah, Aerik... You judge too quickly... Far too quickly... *Husky whisper... He arches his neck in pleasure, every little tickle in the air and every little heated whisper in the night... Running warm fingers through his hair... His lips brush against Rikki's ear, as the next words spill from his mouth... *...But perhaps that is how you... live... lose the pleasure of finding the correct answer... by judging... too easily.... *No, Yeeyan does /not/ turn his back... Rather, his dark red eyes darken yet, until they are truly black under the thick shadows of his lashes... *

*Rikky's eyes brighten where Yee cannot see them, hidden, as his face is, from view. But he smiles… a slow, languorous action, like a contented cat. He doesn't seek to correct Yeeyan's assumptions, nor his misinterpretations of Rikky's words. And motives. He pulls back slightly, to meet eyes… amberblack and deepening blood-red. And he latches there, the bright gleam, so strong, now shielded with his thick lashes, lids hanging low over his lovely orbs. But he holds the gaze, tightly, and imperceptibly something steels… something -hard-…* Judging too easily? Oh, Yeeyan, you have no idea of which you speak… *tiniest of murmurs, so very soft and quiet it might be stolen away by night's fingers themselves, snatched from the air, lost in the darkness. Rikky himself looks very pretty, this close, lips parted and full, lazy intent in his eyes. It seems he moves closer yet, not responding to the brush of lips against his ear, which he really doesn't -feel-, but to the words Yeeyan whispers. Pretty little mistake? Hardly… -hardly-. Rikky was finding this all very amusing, and informative. Where Yeeyan is primal, Rikky is elevated, and certain wants have yet to surface. And oh yes… Yeeyan's skill was lacking in the extreme, even if he doesn't know it, for the two are speaking of entirely different things. …Or are they?* You should heed your own chastisement, lovely one. The correct answer has been staring me in the face all this time. And unlike you, my own illusions are not blinding me… *sweet and warmly pitched from his elegant, long throat, the succulent mouth, in dark, languid tones*

*Yeeyan's skills lacking? Oh, if anyone is mistaken, it is Rikky. Mistaken in which Yeeyan's skills are, and for what purpose he is using them. Seduction? Pah... Such a useless thing, to him... That is not what he has been trained in... That kind of seduction is for... beginners. He... He knows every trick about the body there is to know... Things not even scientists a thousand years into the future will ever understand, for no such experiments can ever be conducted. An orgasmic core behind the left eyeball, that can cause constant shudderings throughout several days... A nerve situated along the spine, that can, if touched directly, cause such pain, that anything else seems weak beside it. Those are his arts... And if he is lacking on some other subjects, it is only because he... has no need of them. In /his/ world, he is perfect. When it comes to the pains and pleasures of a body, there is nothing to know, that he doesn't already have full knowledge of, and has tried multitudes of times.... His lashes veil his eyes, slightly, the misty, dark depths showing just a hint of sanguine, now, like the stains of blood on a whore's ebony bed covers... His breath is warm, and scented with mint, like his voice a velvet wrapping that seems to wind itself around Rikki, slowly, sensually, and with such force that it seems almost like a snare.*...You talk too much... *He murmurs, huskily, his smile stretching into a feral grin. Offended? Not the least... To Yeeyan, words mean nothing, and action everything. Illusions? He can see through them with his agony... Opinions? He has few enough as it is... and those are mostly revolving about his true duties... A being of lusts, and darker throbs, he has no need of... sophisticated skills... and if that makes him lacking, it is only how he was created, and how he is supposed to be... He moves in closer, so close that steely muscles can be felt against Aerik's chest, rippling as he moves... pressing... inviting... So close that a few people would step back from the sheer weight of the man, and the physical sensations spread out from the touch of him... Predatory once more, he is tired of conversation... Had he not sensed such power in Rikky, he would have spun him around, and pushed him against a tree... taking out his... pleasures here and now...*