the Rift


[PRIVATE] Blaze rage red is the color of youth

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#16

VOLTERRA
you will remember me for centuries
His eyes flash dangerously, and the ground beside him begins to bubble as his magic rises to the surface.

That often happens when he's angry. His magic lives in the part of his soul that's easily tainted by his moods, and whenever rage begins to burn through his system, his powers are one of the first things to be struck by the frisson of electricity. The ground aches to erupt into a spire, a great mountain of stone and blood-spilling sharpness, but the beast stifles his temper and forces the earth to remain as it is.

Perhaps he shouldn't have broached this subject, when his temper is so volatile and his mother is so precious.

She didn't fucking lose. Mother could lose to no mortal, when she was so much more than any fool that ever dared cross her. "Her name is still spoken of with fear in these lands, which I think she would consider a victory." He sniffs, stretching the rippling muscles of his neck without ever letting his piercing gaze leave the young unicorn. "Besides, I know Mother. Anything she does, she does for a reason. Take nothing at face value with her; lose a battle, be captured, everything she does is planned and plotted. Her endgame is anybody's guess." It's a trait that Nymeria has, too. That slyness, the deviousness, the ability to meticulously plot every single movement, to wrap a victory up as a loss....it is not Volterra's forte, but his mother and sister are masters at it, at deception. They are queens of the subtle; he is the king of the obvious.

But it is of no worth for the young beast to make an enemy today. As much as he craves one, he is not quite fool enough to think he should create one out of nothing. "But we digress." His voice is a rumble, a grating rasp that masks the fury he's still trying to quell. "Now you know whose womb I spilled from, do you still think your Basin would be so keen to harbour me?" For all they know, Volterra is the sleeper cell created by his dam to finish her hard work; the ultimate pawn in her games. He isn't - to his knowledge - but nobody else needs to know that. The mammoth tilts his head in question, his gaze still neutral despite the fire that bubbles within.

LINEART: DARYA87.DA


@Erebos

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]





Messages In This Thread
Blaze rage red is the color of youth - by Erebos - 11-22-2015, 11:01 AM
RE: Blaze rage red is the color of youth - by Volterra - 02-20-2016, 04:11 PM

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