Harmony Disturbed (D)

All was well in the house and life of Domen. Things seemed to be falling within the binds of his will effortlessly. When before he had the task of rebuilding his kingdom to what it used to be, he now found himself blessed with a multitude of land as well as servants to fill it, in different areas of the world. He didn’t have nearly the number of sheep beneath his thumb as he used to have, but the difference was now he had a greater variety than before. He had been working a lot with Sanzon and Paco in the time after the tournament. He and Sanzon had found a colony of humans in the area that used to be called Rockland in the old days, but now the previously rich area of the city was referred to as something different which Domen neglected in caring what it was actually called by the commoners. The living situation was different than most ‘villages’ as the entire ‘clan’ of this village lived in a single mansion which Sanzon used to be acquainted with in his previous life. Aside from that, Domen had met with a very interesting demon by the name of Jack who offered him land and an army for the relief of being able to do his work in peace. Of course, Jack hadn’t simply given Domen this due to coincidence; rather this had been given as a part of Domen’s will. In all of its glory and power, it moved within Jack’s mind, even without him knowing it, to deliver him before Domen in accordance with weaker phenomena such as fate and destiny. In conquering this area, Domen was allotted a new pet, a fire demon by the name of Shukumei, whom Paco was tasked with rearing in the southern heavens until she was strong enough to be under Domen personally. Aside from those two areas, there was the original settlement of Domenance, which he allowed his Priestess and her flock to watch over, as he did more important things like train and travel afar.

On this day, Domen would be within the confines of the home he shared with Kazakura, having recently awoken, or rather reanimated, after a time of rest. By this time, he would have gotten dressed and would be in the bedroom, sharpening his sword with a stone scavenged by Paco earlier. A small towel would be to the side of it, a cloth used in polishing it. Though he could easily have his minions perform this task for him, this was something he found that he enjoyed to do himself to fill the time between waking up and receiving the priestesses morning offering of food. The sound in the kitchen causes him to look up for a moment. There was no scream or anything with it, so he just assumed in her clumsiness the priestess may have dropped something. Figuring it was about time for her to offer food to him, he would perform the finishing touches on his sword before one large hand would lift up its sheath. He would slide the sword into the sheath before him and then stand, fastening it to his waist, after which he would proceed in walking towards the door way to enter the hall and from there it would be to the dining area.

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Coming to the doorway, Domen’s gaze would take in the form of the priestess. He gives her a blank gaze as she folds her arms in front of him and taps her foot. There seemed to be something different about her; Domen could at least pick up that something was wrong. What exactly the issue was, he would not know. It could range from many things including gassiness, cycle cramps, someone breaking something in the temple, or Kaelas falling into the ocean accidentally while rolling in his sleep. Either way, since she was a woman and had a mouth, Domen knew that she would probably speak if there were something the matter. His gaze would watch her in her approach to him, curious enough to allow her to have his attention since he hadn’t eaten yet. Her words confuse him as he assumed that she were angry with him. The thing in itself was a sin to think about. This would not do; his most loyal subject could not order him as that seemed to be the opposite of what was controlled by his will. She would be allowed in passing to his side and his back would remain to her in the first and final step that he would allow. In an unamused voice which was almost a whispered growl, Domen would order “halt…” Since she seemed to be making poor decision, the decision to stop would be removed from her. In the command to summon, the priestess would discover dark energy with skin of stony texture holding the form of two demonic golems at her legs and waist originating from the ground with the greater portion of their lower bodies encased in the cavern floor (Golem Bind, BND1, Perfected). Their purpose would be to hold and grip her in place as he turns around, slowly and menacingly. If she were to remain bound, he would inquire from behind her, “what?”

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The anger seething in Domen’s veins was removing any notion to wonder what was wrong with the priestess. Where as a weaker man may do something like ask, “what’s wrong, honey?” Domen would do no such thing. In all actuality, in a normal relationship, what she did wouldn’t seem too bad to others. She simply asked for him to make his own breakfast and had an attitude with it. Someone like Jyn’Rai might take that, be confused, and move on in trying to make something to eat, or figuring out what the irritant was. Unfortunately, Domen had something far greater than a god complex. He felt such a complex was beneath him as it patronized his very essence. For a mortal within his circle to behave like this to him was very off putting and as such, his reaction would follow.

In turning to face her, he would see her keep her ire in retorting her answer to him. It would be immediately after the word ‘make’ in her reiteration of what she said that his hand would reach out for her throat with the speed of a snake attacking a small rodent. Like the fangs of a serpent, Domen’s fingers would seek to dig into the sides of the priestess’s neck with the intention of holding her in place as his furious gaze glares directly into her eyes with a reduced distance between the two of their faces. His strength would be forgotten, though he would not be actively trying to strangle her to death… just enough to impede breathing and speaking further. Whereas the bind holding her would normally fade, Domen does not allow it to and his mana recycles into it, keeping its existence up with the only difference being the darkness of his nature unconsciously seeping out through his hands, a dark cursing essence harmful to humans and spirits of light (Dark Tainting, HOL2, Perfected). His words would condemn, “My good graces has made you forget your place… if your wits do not return, then I shall have to re teach for your edification.”

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Her compliance was not enough to sooth the anger that had beset his body. Though he didn’t understand his feelings fully, there was something within him that frustrated him further. Things weren’t supposed to be like this, and now that they were, he would continue being angry at the situation that had resulted from her actions, interpreted as foolish by the demon. He thought that she was properly tamed from the time he had taken her. His gaze looks over her as she attempts to calm her body, though his grip does not loosen. Eyes fall over her garments, considered nice compared to what the other former citizens were to wear. Her hair beautifully combed, her body well maintained. To Domen, she should have a seemingly good life filled with the adoration of his followers and the goodness of his graces. These things would stand out to him as the things that soured their current relationship to the point where he would grip her in anger as if she were an enemy. In a fit, he would reach up to the brim of her silk dress with his free hand, and in one pull would rip it from her body, symbolically stripping her of the luxury of wearing it. The demonic golems clinging to her would fade away into wafting shadows of darkness and then to nothingness as her lower body would be released, only for Domen to fling her about and to the ground behind where he had been facing, finally allowing her freedom from his grasp. He dictates, “you are not to wear clothing until I allow it.” There was no ‘if you do’ added to it as it was a mortal threat on her being. In her reaction, he would judge just how much retraining he would have to do to her.

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After discarding her to the ground, Domen curl his lip in seeming disgust and turn his back to her, allowing her to collect herself on the ground and think longer upon his words. He was near the snapping point, but her silence, whether it were intentional or the fact that she simply couldn’t speak yet, prevented his further provocation. He couldn’t understand why she had taken such a drastic turn for the worst in such a quick manner; to him she had seemed fine the previous days, though he hadn’t been spending much time idling about to watch over her. Still, he had at least gotten breakfast as he always had. Wondering what may have caused the priestess to lose grip on her senses, Domen would turn and look down at her. He was able to see the injury that his swift wrath had inflicted unmeaning. It could not be helped; power was a burden to a man of his strength, stature and assumed potential. She looked pitiful as she waited for the continuance of his judgment. Instead of berating her further, Domen would pose a question to her to attempt to understand the reason for her actions. He would speak, requesting, “on what basis is your anger. Speak now the purpose for your disrespect.” His words would be sharp and short; if he were to re educate her, he would at least need to know the root cause of what was bothering her.

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The explanation seemed to be a good start for things to level out the heated atmosphere that had been seething about Domen. Her words do less to sooth his anger, but does more so to coax him to understand her situation more. Her honesty was always a strong point for her, in his eyes, so he knew that he words were true and he did not have to question her words. He knew that humans were weak emotionally, so the fact that it was her emotions that caused her judgment to err coupled with the fact that she was a woman moved on Domen to give him reason to allow him to look mercifully upon the fallen priestess. He could see the argument that ‘she couldn’t help it, she was a woman and not perfect.’ She accepted his judgment and apologized; that was enough to know that her lapse in senses was not permanent. “I see…” comes the resounding words of acknowledgement after she had finished speaking. He was a kind enough god to realize that his follower was upset since things had not gone her way within the confines of his will. Aside from that, there was an odd and unidentifiable feeling that was still left in him from his mild assault and condemnation. Domen would assure, “do not fret on such small things. Your repentance is accepted and I will grant your ability to wear clothing based on your explanation.” Allowing a few moments to pass, he would speak, “my will isn’t so small that it’s confined to one area of this small world. I will allow you to continue in assisting me in rebuilding our homeland.”

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Answering her thanks, Domen would speak calmly, “a god is not above understanding the erred way of humans.” To him, she shouldn’t be thanking him for understanding, but rather showing mercy in that understanding. Moving forward with what to do here on, Domen would decree, “assemble your thoughts on what you believe to be vital to be built up here and I will allow its manifestation.” He assumed she would probably want the gardens returned, though it would be tricky to grow a garden where there was no natural sunlight. Building on the surface seemed as if it would become a waste of time since Domen had plans of laying waste to what was currently up there in order to purify it for the rebuild process. He continues, “but for now, you have the task of completing my breakfast.” His will was absolute after all; even after all of this, he would see that the root cause for his anger be handled to his satisfaction. Still, in seeing her having looked to her palm but having done nothing, Domen would allow, “are you unable to heal yourself?” This would be him allowing her to perform any type of healing magic on herself if she needed to. If she were unable to heal herself, then he would have to make concessions to allow her to go clean up and mend her wounds manually. He didn’t need her bleeding into his food.

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Domen would stand by and watch her actions as she was to pick herself up, heal and begin to pluck up her garments. There was an odd sensation that bothered him, though he could not identify it, but seeing her in this state was not pleasing to him. On the other end of the spectrum, watching her bend before him with her nude body on display for his viewing arose a different type of feeling that seemed to overshadow the original one. His gaze would follow her, taking in the fruits of her body and following her movements as she moved beyond him and into the bedroom. He would wait for her, standing at the foot of the bed and watching her as she goes to set down the torn silk garment. As she comes back to the bed and reaches for the trunk, he would allow her to bend to look into the trunk, but yet position himself behind her, so that as she bent, it would be like a prison in shower scene taking place. His large right hand would come to the mid portion of her back as she bent over, coaxing for that position to be held as the sound of his pants would hit the ground. A familiar length would press against her skin, hardened, having been released from the bounds of his clothing, and after a moment, it would be gripped by the other hand and given direction as it is navigated to the entrance of her innards, in which it would invade with a full slow and firm thrust.

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