He was used to transporting around, hell, it was one of his powers, but this seemed almost maliciously unsettling.He was used to transporting around, hell, it was one of his powers, but this seemed almost maliciously unsettling. When he had forced the contents of his stomach back into place, he raised his head and looked around. The room was the lavish standard that his hostess (wife, he corrected himself) maintained in every room of her tower. The bed was large enough for five or six people, covered with red satin sheets. The floor was covered with what seemed to be animal pelts of various shapes, sizes and textures. There was a daybed of black velvet and gold, golden tables with tops of black marble veined with red, and hangings of red and black silk on the ceiling and walls. A haze hung in the air, permeating every pore of his body with the thick aroma of a musky incense. He dragged himself to his feet and batted aside the hangings around the bed so he could fall freely into the feather mattress. He lay there, somewhat uncomfortably. Then he pulled himself out of bed to change out of the heavy black armor and thick red cloak that Facade had made him wear for their wedding. Wedding? He could barely think of it as such. The demonic shadows that were their attendants, the psychotic bitch that was his bride, and the "deflowering" of the bride and groom by the "priest" all made him want to close his eyes and hope he woke from this horrid nightmare. But he'd tried that. A number of times. Even his dreams and fantasies were being invaded and violated and altered. The only time anything could stay untainted was while Facade was otherwise occupied, like when she was fucking him. At least he was free to imagine someone he cared about, like Marcia, being the female form he was servicing. Obsidian drifted off into a fitful sleep after he had dropped off the restricting garments. His dreams were thankfully few, and mostly pleasant memories of times spent with his fellow Nemesis trainees, especially Marcia, aka Masquerade. A flash of multi-colored light brought him to groggy wakefulness. He opened his eyes to see Facade standing in the center of the room, staring at him through the hangings. "How is my darling husband enjoying his apartment?" she asked, a bright smile crinkling her sparkling, almond-shaped eyes. "Just fine," he said, unentwining himself from the sheets and rolling out of the bed, "darling. |