gods and kings (vol vs kiuaji)

[JUDGED] gods and kings (vol vs kiuaji)

Kiuaji Posts: 40

Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE

Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova

07-24-2016, 06:35 AM

Helovian's are terribly weak when it comes to just a dash too much sun, where the air is dry on the tongue and the wind is harsh upon their bodies, wilting them with it's scorching caress. This is the weather Kiuaji was born into, unforgiving temperatures which reduce the weak to naught but dust and a feast for the carrion birds. He revels the suns unforgiving rays, allows it to wash over him to chase away any lingering chill the extended winter and cooled spring still held on his bones.

His feminine frame cuts a splendid vision, an ethereal mirage of sinful promises and tender caresses, curves swaying as his effortless stride takes him across the flats. The Edge has grown rather dull as of late, whether it's him missing out on all the delicious gossip and tension filled gatherings or they have all fizzled out in the heat. Wilted to a terrible, boring, disappointing stop as they scurry to find the last places still remotely chilly within their misty abode. No, Kiuaji hungers to sink his teeth into something truly mouth watering, press his ears forward from his silken strands to listen to gravel rough tones banter against his purring lilt.

Matanye is in the air above him, her broad wings allowing her to simply glide upon the heated currents beneath her banded feathers. She's grown into a splendid thing, the jewel of Kiuaji's eyes, she is deadly and precise — and utterly infuriating when she wants to be. It's she who spies the leviathan and his scaled convoy in the distance before Kiuaji does. Uttering a shrill, ear piercing cry that ripples across the flats and draws purple eyes to look beyond the mirrored perfection reflected back at him beneath his hooves.

A call that's all too familiar reaches his ears and he finds himself with a smirk playing upon his white lipped muzzle, ah, a warrior's cry. How often had he heard that before? How often had he lounged by the sidelines and watched stallion's of rippling muscles and unconstrained blood lust try and crush one another to show their power. Admittedly, while it's a delicious spectacle for the eyes, there is just something so tantalizing about having that body press up close against his own, feeling the rippling power against his sandy hide as he throws himself into the thick of it.

As they draw closer and closer, it becomes obvious that this stallion is a fine, sculpted specimen that Kiuaji definitely wouldn't mind sinking his teeth into. The kind of warlord that the Poisoner definitely wouldn't mind spending days sprawled out against, like some expensive, deceptive courtesan of the sands. Alas, and a disappointed sigh escapes the androgynous stallion's lips, he wants a fight, not a tussle in the hay, perhaps that can come later.

If the brute can be swayed to such advances. It would be such a pity if he didn't at least get to have a little nibble.

"My my," His purring, silken chords sail across the heated winds to where the black painted stallion and his Dragon's stand, "the sands have brought me many, many gifts, but they haven't brought me anything so handsome in a long, long time." The Sleuth croons, crowned head tilting to better roam over the black stallion's form. He stops a short distance away, it's a battlefield, isn't it? As much as he would like to give that thick neck of his a ghosting of his lips, he knows better than to get too close and touch the fruit, at least right now. Matanye circles over head, her black eyes warily assessing the winged reptilians, he gives her a mental note to stay away, stay high and watch. Be his eyes above the battle, while he trusts her strength, these mythical creatures are a level that she cannot ascend to, much to her anger.

As much as he would like to stay and chat, maybe get his name before he cuts him to ribbons, he doubts the boy has little patience for more chit chat. He seems the type, and Aji is ever happy to give people what they want. He's quick to advance after a moment of silence, long legs spurred into a ground covering canter as his head begins to lower, deadly spires ready to be angled and punctured into supple flesh. His right approaches the beast's left, accelerating at the last moment as he nears the stallion's barrel and shirks his head to the side and up, aiming to drive his spires into a well toned shoulder and rake it along his side.

"You know my dear, I never did catch your name." Comes his flirting remark, unable to help but continue his lilted advances of the other kind.

"talk talk talk"

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1/3 - 795 Words

Summary; decides he's going to try and make Volterra having a sexuality crisis (once he's figured out he's a dude ;D) has a little bit of flirty banter before he begins to charge Volterra to start the fight. Approaches on Volterra's left with his right side, lowers his head as he moves closer. Preparing to try and puncture Volterra's left shoulder to ribbons and rake his horns down his barrel, when he jerks his head up as he's passing.

Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in

Credits: Image by Littlewillow-Art @ DA

@Volterra