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[birthrightgreen]

Well. I'm not really sure what the "Bible" is. And I've never heard of angels or heaven. But I saw this quiz on evankasparov's journal and it was telling him that he was Satan (no "e"), who apparently rules Hell in this "Bible" thing. Well, shit. That was amusing. So I took the quiz.

And what do you know? I got the same result.

I'm assuming there are other villains you can get, but I think this one's fitting, all things considered. *can't decide whether to smirk or giggle*

Satan You scored 60% Pride, 70% Envy, 60% Ambition, and 62% Deceitfulness!

You are Satan, the consummate villain, and the ascendant figure in the unholy trinity. Throughout history you have been called The Serpent, The Accuser, The Devil, Lucifer, The Prince of the Power of the Air, and The Dragon, among other things. Your “compatriots” in the unholy trinity, the Antichrist and the False Prophet, are merely pawns in your futile struggle with God. Though, they probably don’t know this. This is because you are a master of deception; indeed the Bible calls you “The Father of All Lies”. You are also very ambitious, and you strive to be in positions of the utmost authority. Unfortunately, it was impossible for you to obtain the highest title in heaven and this is part of the reason why you decided to leave. Of course, you couldn’t just leave by yourself, so you managed to use your deceptive abilities to get one third of the angels in heaven to join with you in revolt. God put down the rebellion and expelled you from heaven. To most people, it would seem foolish to start a war against God, but pride can sometimes cause people to do foolish things. In heaven, you were the most beautiful and powerful of all angels and you were well aware of this. Unfortunately, you let your pride consume you and your passions led you down the road to perdition. After you were expelled from heaven, you let another one of your attributes consume you—envy. You knew that you could never defeat God, but you could attempt to destroy humanity, his most beloved creation. Your goal is to bring as many people as possible to suffer in Hell with you. Fortunately for you, but unfortunately for the rest of us, you’ve been endowed with all of the attributes necessary (deceptiveness, confidence, ruthlessness, and ambition) to do a terribly good job at this.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 60% on Pride You scored higher than 83% on Envy You scored higher than 50% on Ambition You scored higher than 80% on Deceitfulness

Link: The Which Biblical Villain Are You Test written by MetalliScats on Ok Cupid

Comments

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

A wry smile dances over her lips, her eyes dark. There's very little she won't do. Hasn't done. As long as a Healer can fix the damage, it paid well to be flexible. As for what she likes...tiniest shrug of a thought across her bain that she dismisses.

She likes equals.

She closes the gap between them, fitting her small frame against his, feeling his warmth, and all his hard places meeting hers. She runs her hands up his chest, with just a hint of nails, until she winds her arms around his neck. Her fingers tease at the hair at the nape of his neck. She reaches up, her lips hovering just below his, slightly parted, warm breath, sweet and spicy with the wine, brushing over his lis.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

His breath catches and falls out again in the slightest hiss at the touch of nails, pleasure in a gasp of air. The touch of sharp and pain in just enough of an intensity to make him feel it, the promise of more.

But rather than close the kiss the tip of his tongue snakes out, sliding across her lips. He tastes her, and remains where he is, the kiss un-finished between them. His eyes, half-closed, still burn under long lashes.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She trembles slightly, pleasure running through her. May the Darkness be merciful, he was going to take his time. That is something she hasn't experienced in a while.

A soft moan, barely sound, and she mimics his movement, the tip of her tongue meeting his, tracing over his lips. Light. Flickering. Tasting.

One hand slides down his neck, along his shoulder, resting there, with that sweet drag of nails again.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Again the shudder, this time with an outward surge of breath and sigh that tastes of spices and power.

His hands come up and he doesn't even touch her but the heat of his skin is so tangible. He glides, down from the curve of her breast and just under her arms down her sides, over her hips. When his fingertips finally touch her body it's light and brief, tracing the curve of her hips back up and then away again.

He teases his lips over hers, swaying his head slightly back and forth. His nose gently bumps hers, an ungraceful movement that carries an innocent-like grace all its own.

His moist heat over her mouth is far from innocent.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She lets a pleased murmur escape as she smiles slightly against his lips, then slides her tongue along his lower lip in a playfully sensual caress. The hand in his hair tightens marginally, before her fingers relax to slide further into his hair, tangling there, letting strands wrap around her fingers.

Phantom touches ghost up his spine as her fingers scratch lightly down his chest again. The air in the room seems to move as well, sliding over their heated skin, touching where they have yet to wander.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

His body presses against hers, hips first. Solid and so hard against her soft body, but not insistant yet. The touch is more important than the thrust.

He gasps as her hand tangles in his hair, the first and sharpest sign of overt pleasure he's given. His lashes flutter for a second, then relax. His body continues to press against her, the heat of his chest over the curve of her breasts, close. Heart-beat close.

One hand reaches around. One fingertip trails along her spine, electricity coursing in little static sparks where it passes. Just enough to feel it.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She shivers. Lips part, melt into his briefly before brushing over them.

Mother Night...

Her palm rests on his chest, heat pulsing through it, sliding over his skin. Breath caught in anticipation as she arches a bit, her breasts pressing into his chest, nipples already aching through the thin fabric that separates them.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

He kisses her softly, tenderly, and yet his lips sear over hers.

His hand slides around to cup the side of her breast in his palm, thumb stroking over the curve. The under-curve of his palm just barely rests to her nipple, and if he'd move his hand just a bit he would be brushing skin against sheer fabric against skin. But he doesn't.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

Her fingers tighten in his hair more, remembering the pleased gasp of earlier. She returns the kiss, lips exploring lips, brushing over sensitive spots, reminded just how many nerve endings rest there as the heat of him slides up each one.

She fights the urge to thrust into his hand, instead sliding her palm down to rest on his hip, just above the waistband of those delightful pants. Her nails caress over his skin, tracing circles lightly.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Her tug is rewarded with another gasp, a smirk on his face as he notes the repetition, denoting learning, pleased and proud with the way she responds. His mouth presses gently to hers as he explores every corner, memorizing her taste, it seems.

His skin almost seems to shiver as her nails caress his body. At the curve of her breast his fingertips trace where the flesh starts to mound, at her side. Still leaving that temptation heat just where the flesh starts to darken at her nipples.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She digs her nails into his skin reflexively at the heat. Her tongue teases at his, conducting her own exploration, drinking in the taste of him.

Fingers twisting in his hair, she moans very softly. The slightest nip at his lower lip, then soothing it gently as she presses closer.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

He opens her mouth for him, gently, then submits to her explorations. He tastes of cinnamon, nutmeg, spicy enough to almost sting, warm enough to sooth the sting away. Underneath that is the taste of wine, thick enough to differentiate between his own sweet taste and the alcohol they were drinking.

And finally, at last, he brushes just the edge of his palms along the taut points of her nipples, and that latent inferno under his skin seems again to be the strange heat of electricity.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

"Mmm..."

She smiles at the taste of him, fingers sliding through his hair, tangling, teasing, stroking, retreating, moving to caress his cheek, before sliding back along his scalp again, drag of nails there as well.

The power coursing through him makes her shudder slightly. Something wild and different than she's felt before. More. She probes gently, curious, desiring, her mind brushing against his, as her body melts into his hands.

Nipples hardening, she gives in and arches into his hands. Her nails dig in a bit more, then slide up his side, over ribs. Around, down his back, feeling his strength.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Now, that's interesting.

Despite everything he knows, or perhaps because of it, he keeps a part of himself away from her. And, really, since it's the same part of himself he keeps from almost everyone else, it's not that hard. Still an edge of danger, because she likes her men dangerous. Not lying, just not revealing all of the truth.

The power is one thing he can reveal. And he does, skating his palms over her breasts in ever widening circles, little sparks, little waves of subtle heat. Her nails over his skin makes him moan, just a little. Makes him press into her, not insistant, rewarding effort with knowledge of what she's doing to him and how much he enjoys this.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

There are shields. She respects that. Doesn't drop her innermost ones either. Draws on the Green and keeps the Grey close. But she shares bits, mostly emotion, matching passion for passion, letting desire spiral between them, showing him what he's doing to her. Wonder. Delight. Threads of joy as her body responds to the heat and power.

A louder moan as sparks dance along her skin. She lets her own power out a bit more, sliding it over him, sharpening the press of nails more than they should be without artifice.

She moves against him, just a bit, as her lips move from his to trail along his jaw, tasting the salt of his skin, then down his neck, little touches of tongue and teeth, sharper, then gentler, testing what he likes.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Delight matches delight, although there's a sinister edge to the pleasure he takes in pleasuring her. Her moans are his sounds of triumph, the sweat rolling down her skin marks his achievements. The thrill of being thrilling, at least for a little while. He doesn't, his mind shows, expect a claim. The memory of the time they share is enough.

In return, as well, the sensations of what her touches do to him. Straddling the line of pain and pleasure, so light and skilled the nails over his body. Already he's hard enough that the want takes on a slight edge of urgency, but nothing that can't be leashed back in a warm grip.

He raises his head just slightly, tilting his neck for her kisses. THe gentle heat is appreciated as much as the sharpness, bringing his fingertips down over her stomach and tracing the curve of her upper and inner thighs. Not quite tickling, not quite teasing as he nears the join of her legs and moves away.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She laughs slightly at that torturous edge between tickling and teasing, warm breath over his skin. It's feeding and spiraling to feel his desire meeting and merging with hers. Not something she did with most of her clients, allowing them to see into her, feel her. She hadn't really expected the intensity it takes on.

Another smile at the sinister edge, recognizing it, taking it in, welcoming it. Happy to let him has his triumph when it means this pleasure.

Her lips trace his collarbone, teeth nipping again as her hand strokes along the waistband of those lovely pants. Fingers dip underneath. Nails leave their mark on the skin of his abdomen. She ducks her head more, mouth finding his nipple, tongue circling and teasing lightly.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

His want trickles out to meet hers in a measured, steady line. There's something about her that's young and inexperienced, for all the age she may think she has and the weariness in her eyes. So he goes slow, plays gentle.

At least in that respect.

He groans, resists the urge to thrust into her. Instead-- well, two can play at that game. His hands come up again, fingertips sliding underneath the edge of her neckline, trailing down.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She lifts her head again to meet his lips, swallowing the groan. Her fingers trace up the line between hip and groin, slidng over sweat slicked skin, Her kiss is harder this time, reflecting the heat and urgency that's started to pound in the air. She tugs at the drawstring of his pants, loosening them, moving to let them fall, and then pressing in close again, feeling his heat and hardness through her dress.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

One arm snakes around her neck to hold her loosely against him, though he doesn't react to her undressing him. His hand teases along her breast again, thumb flicking lightly over her nipple. Another few minutes of her touches and he's going to start staining her dress, most likely.

He teases his fingertips over the back of her neck anyway, then an experimental touch of fingernails. Stains will come out, and he doesn't mean to interrupt the mood or hurry anything along. He intends this to take a very long time.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She shudders at the brush of his nails, a spike in her pulse, a soft gasp of pleasure. Her hands slide down his sides, settling on his hips for a minute before sliding to caress his ass, teasing over him before sliding back up his back. Light touches. The sharper ones, then light again, exploring him.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Interesting.

His hand cups her neck for a moment, solely so she can feel as his nails lengthen, become talons. Then the talons trace over the curve of her neck, shoulder, and down over her breast again, sharp enough to leave little red lines, not sharp enough to actually draw blood. One talon hooks into the cleavage of her dress, threatening to rip without actually tearing fabric. Such a careful balance.

He shifts his hips a little under her hands, playfully pressing back into her grip. Every little change in touch brings a soft sigh, pleasured and gentle. He dips his head to kiss her again, then gently nips at her lower lip.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

Her eyes open, surprised at the talons, then fall closed again as they move against her. Right there. Pain and pleasure, mingling and mixing in the right degree. She moans her approval, tensing slightly in the moment he pauses, breath almost catching at the threat, the delicate balance.

Her hands continue to rove, slipping between cheeks to tease at him, testing again. Some men dislike such play though her instincts say he's not one of them. She nips back at his lip with an impish smile, tongue flicking out to tease at his lower lip.

[oldestbeloved.livejournal.com]

Definitely going to be fun. He does start to tear her dress away now, but slowly. She can stop him if it's more damage than she'd like to sustain. His talons continue to rake lightly over her skin, around the curve of her breast, spiraling towards her nipple.

His gasp at her roving fingers is at least a little bit of surprise, and certainly of pleasure. He smiles against her mouth in return, parting his lips for her tongue and sliding his over hers.

[birthrightgreen.livejournal.com]

She can buy a new dress. There's something amazingly erotic at having it torn from her. She'd press closer but for the danger of impaling herself, so she signals her approval through the kiss, hungry, if still in control. Clearly wanting.

One fingertip teases at his entrance, then presses just slightly inside, then retreats, sliding up his skin, then back down to repeat the movement.