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05-10-2017, 08:45 AM
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R I K Y N & D U I R
Well… she’s serious. I immediately try and straighten up, assuming it’s probably far too late. Grinning at Volterra while telling myself I shouldn’t forget that some of the people around this collective of kingdoms aren’t as easy going as we are around here (and, let’s be honest, somewhat renowned for it), I look back to Ampere, just in time for shit to hit the ceiling. The little guy hasn’t the time to respond to my tiny (hah) joke before both his leaders leap to his defense and for my metaphorical throat. My amused smile vanishes, replaced instead with the disbelieving scowl of “are you serious? I knew it…,” which is even more swiftly replaced with a tense, very, brittle, politician’s smile (even more difficult to maintain when both of them reference my penis, Ampere even oogling it). There is also the small issue that the mare is fucking the Ampere, one of the wicked witches I’d been told innumerous (untruthful) tales about as a boy. What was true, for certain, was that our herds had never gotten along, and, from what I knew of the acts that had been committed by either side, there was good reason. Deciding, screw it, I’ve gone this far, I continue to be tactless, but do garner a bit more respect to my tone, and streamline my boldness. Glancing at Erebos now with raised eyebrows, I hope he finds as much amusement in what I’m about to say as I’m surely going to. Ahhh, the good old days. "Everyone in the south so interested in a good looking man’s khirrof?" and have as much sand in their butt-cracks? I ask them both with an amused glimmer to my eyes, wondering if any of our guests speak Dothraki, like Mordecai had; if not, all the better for me that I’m in on a joke Volterra isn’t. I am especially glad that I’d used a different language when a familiar, cheerful greeting twists my head back, my impish smile replaced with a more honest one. "Hey Tia," I greet her, letting her vibrant voice otherwise fill in the silence, Duir quietly reaching out with his muzzle to say hello to Nimue, as usual. A second late arrival comes in after the two leaders, a tawny colored stallion with light blue markings on his cheeks and a mostly white face, with a gift for our herd. Ha, how about that! Some manners, from a fellow with a flying lizard even! He seems to be a healer, or at the very least a gard… Alchemist of the Throat, he says. Potions? asks Duir from his transpecies hello with Tiamat’s whale, looking at the newly arrived stallion with interest. Nodding hello, I figure the Ocean’s Light will probably devour him with thanks (she’s, uh, quite cuddly, our Lady). "Same," I add, to Tiamat’s statements, in regards to hard feelings; in truth, I do have them, but they are unrelated to either of the individuals before me. These private issues are no one’s problem but mine. "Those who lived here before, and their ways, are changed or gone now. As you can see, our very company is proof." I don’t look at her. I don’t gesture. Ampere knows, after all, if I can assume this is the same woman that the Empress and my mother’s herd had assaulted in the name of… well, insanity, I guess. "My mother is forbidden to return here," I vow aloud, and for those who know what that really means to me (probably only Erebos), the hot fire that lights in my eyes is one that cannot be missed, "our fathers are dead, and I hear tell, too, that Gaucho passed on not long ago, as well. This is a different Helovia. We will make it so." Looking at Astarot, I glance, also, at Tiamat for confirmation, and add: "As a gesture of this, perhaps we could immediately set into a place an exchange of herbs, for some service or good which the Throat could broker in exchange," I nod, assuming that, because he’d had to find a gift, there weren’t many options for an herbalist in the desert (eat that, sand dwellers – oh wait, you can’t, it’s sand), and that it would be a good place to start (surely the healers had stocked piled a few herbs or two to the brim and could spare some), "or perhaps we could broker cloth. I would need to speak with Weaver Vertigo on the matter, first." Looking at Erebos next with a smile, I let him take the lead on the Kaos issue, assuming he’d know more than I would, being the one directly in charge of the soldiers, after all. "What have you learned on your patrols, in regards to Kaos, General?" I ask, an added tilt to my smirk when I use my best friend’s proper title. this is not destruction this is your birth — |
