the Rift


[OPEN] days that didn't happen [VOL!]

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#1

She is glad to see that her water has protected Volterra - she would have felt even more foolish about her temporary lapse of judgement if she had failed. Isopia realizes that she isn't surprised to see Volterra - or his companion - among the fray. He is proving to be more of a warrior than she might have initially thought him to be (despite his obvious size-advantage), and her mind immediately wants to recant its past thoughts of him. If he is more of a murderous warmonger ... then why did he follow her all the way back to her home? Why would a monolith with a blood-hungry mythical creature pause his day to aid with the building of a hot tub? A creation purely meant for leisure and relaxation? Surely to a warrior such a thing would have no practical purpose.

(You know why he helped you).

But she wouldn't admit it. It was still easier to be guarded, to keep her walls up, than to admit what she knew (hoped) was beginning to assume was the case.

For you, in case you're a little ho-warm too

Immediately she tried to stifle the smile that pushed her cheeks upwards, crinkling the death-mask that she always wore. The demi-child nodded appreciatively to Verzes, and reached down to lick the frozen treat tentatively. The cooling sensation hit her tongue at the same time as the Goddess' magic blew over her, and the girl couldn't help but audibly sigh gratefully; to both the Goddess and Volterra.

As he pulls to leave - his ears silently encouraging her to follow, the girl scans the group to see if perhaps the gesture was meant for someone else. As none turn to follow him, her gaze returns to his solid backside as it slides from the carcasses of the dead. She can't help but follow.

As she trickles beside him, she begins to wonder now about unarticulated forms of communication. During their time creating the hottub, the girl had thought that all of her thoughts were silent - that they only screamed inside of her own head. But now ... had Volterra meant to ask her to come along? Or had his body merely silently voiced what he was hoping for? Similarly in the Falls, had her own body given away the secret voice that bloomed red inside of her belly? The thought made her swallow hard.

"That's two Gods you've aided in killing now. Should I be worried?" She mused, trying to cut through the silence which had become violently loud with her own self-conscious thoughts.

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#2
GLL has made Vol hypersensitive to sound and smell ;c


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

They walk together, compatriots in war. Fighting alongside her, in synch with the beauty and power of their movements, has aroused more parts of him than he cares to admit. They are alone; the red has taken himself off to hunt, and their mental bond has thinned to a small thread of consciousness. Their emotions remain flowing from beast to dragon, but there is a distance to their conjoined minds. Volterra thinks Vérzés has taken himself away on purpose; he likes Isopia, but gets rather jealous when his bonded is around her, when his mind is taken up so fully with her. So, rather than be abandoned like a spare part, the proud crimson king has taken himself away, to leave the horses be.

Volterra doesn't mind. As much as he adores the partner of his mind, it does them good to spend time apart sometimes.

The fact that alone time coincides with him meeting with Isopia is pure coincidence, of course.

As he walks, he begins to feel a little...odd. Not odd like he felt last time he was with her - the best kind of odd - but a tad queasy. For a second, he wonders if those blasted boils have come back. Yet this feels different, and when he snorts, a black liquid oozes from his nostrils. He huffs, disgusted, then flattens his ears when the noise sounds like a damn herd of elephants in his head. As they walk towards the Endless Blue, the sound of the crashing waves is agony to his tender ears. He can hear every wave slam against the sand, every greedy handful of grit being dragged down into the swell and then thrown back again...It is a cacophony of sound, and his pulse throbs in his skull. "Can you hear that?" he rumbles, shaking his head as if that is going to help. He can hear everything - a fly buzzing past his ear, the wingbeat of a bird in the trees, and those fucking waves.

Isopia speaks, and her voice is like a caress to his tender ears. He sighs, then winces as that grates on his senses, too. He manages a throaty chuckle, but cuts it off abruptly because the sound is like torture. And the smells - has Isopia always smelled so potent, so delicious? She smelled like mare last time they met, but now she's like....mare squared. He wants to plant his tongue on her like she did on his earth-spike ice-pop, to see if he can taste everything his nostrils are detecting. Hell, he can even smell the salty tang of the sea from this distance, as well as less savoury aromas like bird shit.

Something is very wrong.

But she's spoken, and he manages to respond. "Only if you're liable to turn into a giant wolf and start rampaging around," he says with a grin. God, he can even hear the sound of his own lips peeling away from his teeth! "But no - you never have to worry, kis holló." And he means it - God she may be, but he cannot imagine turning his body against her with the intent to cause pain. Pleasure, maybe, but never pain. "Several Helovians turned on the Moon Goddess during the fight. Were you not tempted?" He tilts his massive head, grimacing at the aching sound of sinews tugging against flesh. After all, the Goddess had killed her brother, even if Isopia had made it clear that she did not entirely object to her reasons.

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[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#3

[Iso can see thermal radiation + has magnetism like bees]

Her ear flickers uncertainly in response to his question. Hear what? she wants to ask, but doesn't. Instead, she allows her darkened skull to rotate to see if she catch whatever it is he is sensing. A frown creases her lips when she finds that there is ... nothing that seems extra ordinary to hear. It makes her feel distant from Volterra somehow - that he is inviting her to hear what it is he hears, but she cannot.

"I can become a raven when I choose. How do you know that I cannot also become a wolf?" There is an edge to her voice - as if subtly trying to emphasize that there is much about her that he doesn't know. Normally she prefers it that way - that those she encounters know little of her. But now .. with him ... it is something like an invitation. The depth of secrecy that she harbors is an opportunity; though her rational senses are still rigidly opposed to the idea of him breaching her depths.

"Tempted?" She repeats, as if the idea of temptation (at least in this context) is wholly foreign to her. Isopia hadn't noticed the black goo dripping from Volterra's nose (she had been far too busy trying to avoid looking at him for too long), until her eyes began to itch. Raising a wing (that may or may not have tried to brush casually against his flank as it moved towards her face), she rubbed at her golden eyes. Pulling her feathers back, she noticed the same black goo was now on her wing - presumably from her eyes. Blinking hard, the girl looked around and froze. Her nostrils flared as her gaze caught hold of the ocean. Instead of a faded gradient of blues and greens, the water was now a bright spectrum of pale yellows down to the darkest blues. "Do you see-" She began breathlessly, turning back to Volterra only to find that he too had become a patchwork of colour. No longer monochromatic, her giant friend now bloomed reds and yellows. Having no idea what this was - or that it corresponded to heat - the dark red patches closest the middle of his body - as well as the migrating pulse of his heart beat - meant little to her.

Pulling away from him, dark black adding to the already black patches around her eyes, she stared with wide-eyed confusion. "What's happening?"

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#4


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

Her words bounce into his ears again, filling them with the audacious boom that he just cannot fathom. Why does everything have to be so loud? Everytime he moves, he can feel his flesh heaving against the muscle beneath, and he can smell his own heady musk, the potent stench of masculinity - does everybody smell that? It is the polar opposite to Isopia, whose aroma is like a perfume to his tender nostrils. Has he been deaf and scentless all this time, and is only now being opened to the intricacies of the world?

He shakes his head to try and rid it of the queer sensations, then winces as more black ooze falls from his eyes and lips as well as his nose. How do you know that I cannot also become a wolf? He hadn't considered that. It strikes him, again, that he knows so little about her. His body reacts to her like she has a line hotwired through his veins, and he doesn't even know her name. "Can you?" he questions, openly and blatantly. "I hope not - kis farkas doesn't sound as good as kis holló." Little wolf just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Tempted? "To attack the Moon Goddess, like those others did," he explains. If it had been his brother slaughtered - and he is sure he has brothers, he has just never met them - then he would have done his best to avenge him, even if it meant attacking a God and suffering the consequences. The beast knows little of honour or justice, but he knows revenge. But, he reminds himself, Isopia is not like other horses. From what he's learnt, she is more about the greater good than personal gain, and he cannot deny that vengeance is selfish, an eye for an eye. Somehow, he thinks the earth girl is above such petty emotions - revenge, to her, wouldn't fit in the great balance of everything. Still, he wants to know if, for a glistening moment, she was tempted. If she is capable of temptation, of veering off the beaten path and into sin. Into him.

She wipes her eye with her wing - and it tickles him like a promise on its way past, making a thrilling shudder rush through his skin - and it comes away with the same goo as Volterra's own. He narrows his eyes and swings his tail, tense. Shit. It's the boils all over again, infectious and rampant. She asks if he sees something, and he looks frantically around to try and locate whatever it is she's seeing. Now she's looking at him - she's looking at him! - and his heartbeat increases tenfold, unaware that it may give him away, that his own body could betray him now that she sees all.

What's happening? He wishes he knew. "After the bear fight, myself and some others who fought got these hideous boils on our bodies, which refused to heal. I was only recently cured of them, and I don't fully know how - some Basin unicorn used his magic on me, and the boils disappeared. It must be the new lands, or those who came out of the Rift. Can't be a coincidence that we both fought the wolf, and we both have these symptoms." Shit, he thinks; are her ears and nose hypersensitive too? Can she smell the way his flesh aches when she's near, the way his waves of testosterone seem to intensify whenever he's in close proximity to her? Will his own skin sell its secrets to her?

More importantly, what will the cure be this time? Nothing cured the boils - not eating the Falls foliage, rolling in the dead bear, rubbing on trees. Only being mind-controlled by Calor had healed him, and he has no idea why. How in God's name will they cure this?

image credits

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#5

She might have smiled when he asked if she could turn into a wolf (could she?), were it not for the thick taste of sludge that suddenly filled her mouth. It was slippery - like oil almost - coating, but never sticking to anything in her mouth, never able to be washed away. However his clarification of what he meant by  temptation halted the tentative smile anyways, and she turned her radiating-gaze towards him.

"Of course not-" She answered instantly, as if all he had done was ask if it was nighttime when it clearly wasn't. "Temptation implies ... wanting to do something you believe you shouldn't. But if you want to do it, isn't that a reason to do it? Akrasia--" For a moment her lips tugged in a smile. It wasn't often she used words that others didn't know. If anything, Volterra was the one who was often doing that. And unless he knew archiac latin, maybe this time she'd have the linguistic upper hand. Oddly, it was the idea of impressing him, rather than her academic prowess, that caused her lips to twitch in a smile. Continuing on she clarified, "-doing something even if you think it isn't what you should do, is just .. absurd. We never do things that we really think we shouldn't. So if you're tempted-" unconsciously and unwittingly, her heat-seeking gaze flicked upwards to try and find his. Did her tone grow softer? Breathier? "-it means part of you wants it ... which is reason to think that it's right. And if it isn't all wrong, if some part of it is right...then it isn't a temptation. It isn't something you shouldn't do .. just ... a different option."

Were her ears ringing? Were they suddenly warm? Coughing slightly, she looked away.

"Whatever this is-" She continued, shaking her head and squinting her eyes slightly as her gaze refocused on him. "It's... I can't describe it. I see ... everything is a different colour now. You're ... you're shades of red and yellow. Almost like-" Curiously, her head tilted inquisitively to the side as she extended the wing that moments again brushed ooze from her eyes. Focusing on her feathers, she extended them over his back , close to the skin, but not quite touching. Holding her breathe, she moved her wing to brace it just inches away from his chest. As she did this, her ooze-darkened lips did part in a smile, finally understanding.

"It's heat! I can see heat! I can - " Tilting her head again, she looked at his body curiously. "You're... your temperature's fluctuating. Are you feeling alright?"

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#6
He can understand other languages too with GLL ohmy!


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

He listens closely, as he always does when she speaks. He has even less choice in the matter now, as his hearing is so sensitive he could probably hear a mosquito fart in a hurricane. He can almost taste the ups and downs of her words, and when a foreign one slips in - jarring against her usual speech - he feels it tickle in his ear like a fly. Akrasia. He has never heard the word, or indeed the language, yet somehow, he understands it. It's as if she has spoken in English or Hungarian, as the word simply translates itself in his mind, without rhyme or reason. "Quod nisi feceris horruit aequum est." Unless you do it just for the thrill of it.

No sooner have the foreign words left his mouth than his eyes widen to saucers and his ears ram forwards, confused. "I've never heard that language before in my life, and yet...I understand it. The hell is going on?" He's so engrossed in his new language ability that he almost - almost - misses the possible implications of her words. She talks of temptation, making it sound as logical as she makes everything else. Her gaze meets his, and he feels himself warm from the inside out at the intimacy of eye contact, although admittedly it is less pleasant than it should be given their eyes are all emitting rank black ooze. And is he imagining the way her voice alters just slightly? Well, under normal circumstances it would be just slightly, but with his ears this sensitive he can detect simple fluctuations in tone that have, until now, been invisible to him. He doesn't read into it, though. For all he knows, everybody's voice changes like this depending on the topic; he is just lucky enough to be able to hear it now.

She describes her own symptoms, and they're very different from his own. Colours, she says. Reds and yellows, fire; her wing brushes his back and he feels his skin stand sentinel to her touch, fighting against the desire to press into her wing and embrace the contact he so adores. Then it moves to his chest, and his confusion is apparent on his face until she speaks. Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

If she can see temperature...then that means nothing is safe from her penetrating gaze. She will know if all the heat floods between his thighs, his own ardour betraying him. She will know if his heart hammers, thudding against his chest and generating warmth. She will know the way his flesh quivers at her touch, like it's pressing against an open flame. She will know. His secrets, laid bare. Shit. Naturally, the moment he becomes aware that she can see everything, the more his rebellious body itches to push its warmth to the precise places he doesn't want her to be able to see it going to. Sweat breaks out across his flanks as he damn near forces his body to submit to the whims of his mind and obey him. No doubt that sweat will create heat as well, though.

Sure enough, she points out his fluctuating temperature. The giant clears his throat, tasting black phlegm like tar at the back of it. "I'm fine. It must be the, uh, illness making my temperature change." That sounds fairly plausible, right? He glances towards the sea, angling his ears slightly away from it to try and smother the cacophony of noise. "In fact, I feel quite feverish - do you?" It's a blatant lie, but it will at least excuse his random temperature changes. "Perhaps we should go in the water. Water soothes, as we know." He is, of course, referring to the hot tub, to how it felt with their skin pressed close together as warm water bubbled around them, how it relaxed every last muscle in their tight bodies...admittedly, the sea is a lot larger and a lot colder than their snug little hot tub, but Volterra begins to wander towards it in the hope she will follow him in. Not just so he can see her with her mane slicked against her neck and her delightful skin clinging to every salacious curve of her body, but so the cool water will disguise exactly which parts of him grow hot whenever he's near her.

image credits

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#7


"That's a reason in and of itself." She responded with a shrug, deciding to chalk up his new-found ability to understand languages as a side effect of whatever was happening (as he did), than to ascribe to him even more languages than the ones he already knew. It was somehow easier that way. Being intelligent ... was all she really had. It was all she valued about herself. That someone else could infringe so easily on that was a hostile thought that she'd rather push away. At least for now.

I'm fine. It must be the, uh, illness making my temperature change

Iso, who had never considered what the normal heat-patterns of an equine body were before now, accepted this rather easily. Certainly when others felt sick, they were sometimes hot or cold. So it made sense that this ... infection, or whatever it was, could simultaneously mimic both symptoms; hence why his heat signature constantly seemed to revolve and rotate within his massive form.

"I feel-" she was about to say fine, but that wasn't quite right. She didn't feel fine. Her body was hot in places that didn't make sense - and she knew that if she looked, heat would be gathered between her thighs and on her cheeks. Iso had once considered that whatever feelings crept up inside of her when she was around Volterra was actually some sort of hostile response her body produced. Like he was a germ that she was trying to fight off. Given that he ascribed the same movement of heat in his own body to this weird infection that they both suffered from, perhaps her original assumption hadn't been so far off to begin with. Perhaps the ... thoughts that accompanied her bodily heat were merely hallucinations of her addled and infected brain. "-like I always do."  She replied, not un-truthfully.

Turning her gaze to the water, she was shocked to see just how dark some parts of it appeared. The colours that their bodies were came no where near to the frigid depths that she could now see. The surface of the water was warm-ish, but then rapidly it grew colder and colder. Surely that would relieve the suffering of her hot flesh?

Nodding in rapid agreement, Iso allowed her long limbs to pull her forward into a canter, moving her easily across the sands and towards the waves. She used to come here often, just to stand in the water and let herself slowly disappear (literally). As the salty spray hit her forelegs, the girl sighed audibly with relief. Perhaps it was the temperature, or perhaps it was just the distraction of not having Volterra in her immediate field of view, but something inside of her calmed.  Using her wings, she scooped up some of the water, and, after closing her eyes, began to rinse away the black goop that had accumulated there.

The longer she stood, the faster her magic began to take hold. Her legs slowly began to disappear - or at least it looked like they did. They merely began to blend into the waves, making it appear like her lower limbs were composed of foam and water, rather than flesh and bone.

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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@Volterra

Also tagging @Random Event since they're trying to use the ocean's 'salty' water to cure the GLL.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#8
The infection is not affected by this attempt of a cure.

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
#9


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

I feel like I always do. To an extent, so does he, when he's around her - he knows it isn't the illness that makes his flesh heat up like the inside of a volcano the moment he's within touching proximity of her. She looks to the water and relieves him of the need to come up with a reply, then breaks into a canter towards the open ocean. He follows, but speed is his weakest attribute even when healthy and, combined with the black tar clogging up his throat and making each breath a battle, it feels like it takes him an age to reach the water's edge.

His forehooves touch the lapping waves first, and without hesitation he follows the earth-filly into the liquid. The coolness is a potent pleasure across his body, and a small, masculine groan of relief escapes his jaws. He goes deeper, until the waves tickle his chest and ensure that every part of his underside is delightfully cool, unable to give him away with flashes of sudden heat. Isopia's sigh of relief tests this coolness to the limit, as the breathy sound is a harmony in his sensitive ears. His eyes flicker blissfully and heat does its level best to spread around his body, but the frigid water prevents it. Ha.

She uses her wing to wipe the ooze from her face, but in the absence of such limbs the beast has to settle for rubbing his own face on the taut flesh of his upper foreleg. Salt water stings his eyes, but it rids him of some of the hideous black goop. He wishes his dragon was here; those dextrous paws would have wiped the filth away in an instant, but alas, the red is far too busy stalking an unfortunate group of rabbits.

He glances at her, to see if she's revelling in the water as much as he is. His gaze travels downwards, and her legs are fading into the sea, blending in like she's always been part of it. He's puzzled for a moment, until he remembers their first meeting, when trees began to caress her limbs like promises. "You know," he rumbles, wincing again as the deepness of his voice sends shockwaves through his ears. "It strikes me that we have met several times now, but there is still a lot I do not know about you. Like what magic it is that makes you become part of your surroundings - is that a quirk of being the daughter of a God?" And your name, he wants to add, because surely she must have one now? Oddly, he rarely thinks of the fact he doesn't know her name, because he is still struggling to come to terms with the fact she - with her royal blood and pedigree - would become friends with a mongrel beast like him. Asking those sort of personal questions would, he fears, drive her away, and she is the most constant figure in his life save his dragon and sister. The notion of losing that pains him to his core.

image credits


@Isopia

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#10


The girl nibbled her lip thoughtfully as Volterra joined her in the salty surf. Cool purples and blues raced up his forelegs, darkening the closer they were to and in the water, and then gradually fading to a muted yellow near his knees. The inflamed, nearly molten parts of his body immediately seemed stunted or halted. No longer did they pulse, swell, and fracture across his pelt. They seemed to shrivel and inwardly collapse in on themselves.

He was right - the water must have been working.

Still, there was an awful lot of goop in her eyes, and she still saw in thermals...but perhaps it was helping him more than her.

As his questions left his lips, it was her turn to have her blood suddenly run cold. At the first mention of how little he knew about her, she thought immediately that he would ask for her name. It seemed logical - if he wanted to know more about her, why not start at the same waypoint that everyone else did? Though as he referred to her magic, she felt a little more at ease. Was it because he already had a name for her? Kis hollo? Was that satisfactory enough? 

The girl let her apprehension roll off of her slender shoulders as she shrugged - letting her wings flop into the water. As soon as they touched, they began to disappearing into frothy patterns as they blended in with the waves. 

"I would assume so. Though I've never been born any other way - so I can't be sure. Others I have met have magics that are inherent to their being, and they are not the offspring of Godly couplings. So it's possible that it is simply contingent on other factors." Pausing, Iso's black-snotted muzzle dropped slightly so that she could better appreciate the magic that was slowly bleeding her body away into the waves. Whatever caused it, the girl was glad. That she could disappear into the landscape somehow comforted her mind. "But - I can do more with magic than most that I meet. Including those who are far older than I am. So I further assume that it has something to do with my Father and that I have a propensity towards magic."

She hadn't even told Volterra that her magic had grown since their last, last meeting. She had discovered it when she was playing in the hot-tub - the stones that she had gathered had suddenly become hot, as soon as her mind registered that the water had gotten cold. She watched them begin to pulse and glow with an internal firey light, and soon the water was bubbling with heat.

Now, looking at Volterra, sludge pouring from both of their eyes, and discussing the topic of her lineage and the boons that came with it, she felt awkward mentioning it. Isopia had never bragged before, but she knew the word. Would it be bragging? 

Snorting, she shrugged again and waded further into the water until it lapped constantly against her belly. Her tail swished slightly, but the raven hairs were now so waterlogged that it merely slapped heavily on the water. 

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
Image Credits


@Volterra

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#11


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

His hearing isn't quite acute enough to detect her blood turning to ice in her veins, but even his normal horse senses pick up the way she shrugs and seems to relax after his question leaves his lips. She talks of inherent magic, and magic that isn't God-given. He thinks of his twin, who could manipulate water from birth even though there are no Gods in their pedigree - their parents may act as Gods, but they are mortal flesh like anybody else. He sniffs, dragging in a great gulp of swinging black ooze, and follows her gaze down to where her wings are now blending into the water as well.

She's not lying when she speaks of her affinity for magic. She could summon dragons of stone and water before he had even discovered the power that lurked within his veins, and when she uses her magic it seems so effortless, whereas his magical endeavours still tug at his formidable strength. Less so than when he was younger, weaker and less experienced, but it's still there. "What else can you do?" he questions, with a tilt of his mammoth head. He knows of her structures of water and earth, and he'd witnessed other earthen magics during the God fights that could have belonged to her, but had been too engrossed on surviving to pay a great deal of attention.

He shifts, to make the water caress his stout pillars of legs. His tail rests lazily on the surface, making ripples whenever he moves. She wanders deeper into the ocean and he follows, until his thick chest is half-submerged and the lapping liquid tickles his flanks. "You can ask me anything you want, too," he says, somewhat as an afterthought. He does not really have any secrets, and certainly none that he would loathe sharing. Sure, she may frown upon his tales of his mother, the World-Eating demoness of lore, but generally the only thing Volterra is ashamed of is his lack of interesting facts. He is a mongrel, of powerful blood, yes, but not Godly blood. He was born, he has lived, he has grown. Not a lot else. Certainly no tales of a father-God and a mortal-mother. So he definitely stands to benefit more from this little information-exchanging session, if she consents to share more of herself, that is.

image credits


@Isopia

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#12

What else can you do?

He opened the door, and his permission caused her lips to open, and then close. Why not just show him? A structure suddenly bloomed in the water before him - almost like a rocky podium, as if Volterra was going to give a speech to the ocean life that hovered near them. It grew and mutated with her magic, as she sculpted it, stopping its creation once it was about the height of his chest. This, he already knew she could do. With a sigh of exertion, the earthen girl focused her golden gaze on the structure. Suddenly, it began to give off heat. A subtle warm light pulsed from within, reflecting beautifully in the water. The heat caused the water to bubble and pulse around the base of the structure, radiating gently outwards to warm a larger area.  

"The sun took too long to warm my hottub. That's when I learned that I could do...that. My Mother could create light from within rocks. I suppose its her that I inherited this from." That, my blood stained shoulder, and nothing else. she thought silently. 

The girl sinks with surprising comfort into the silence. Normally silence indicates that she has done something wrong - said something too awkward or uncomfortable unwittingly. However the lap of the waves against their bodies, and the gentle hush of their breathing seems as familiar as the silence that she Isopia normally finds herself in.

Until..

You can ask me anything you want, too

The girl's death marked face turned suddenly towards Volterra, momentarily distracted by the molting colours of his body. Her mind churned and raced, struggling to find something to say. What little she had learned of social niceties indicated that she should respond with some thoughtful question, but none presented themselves. His family? Should she ask about them? Or .. his magic? His ... health? Her eyes dropped to his shoulders, where his heartbeat was causing the blood to pump through his muscles, making small tributaries of warm orange light flicker. She had no interest in his family, or anything else. It was all contingent .. he wasn't responsible for his family, or anything else really. She was mostly just interested in him, the things which were purely Volterra. The cadence of his voice, the way his bulk was carried with such ease, and perhaps most pressingly, the way he made her feel. But all these things she either knew, or were things that weren't to be asked. They were things to be seen and felt. But she had to ask something didn't she? And even she knew better than to say, Why do I feel this way around you? Do you feel it too?

So she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Where do you live?"

How boring. 

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#13


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

The water stirs, as she creates a rocky plinth in front of him. His ears prick and he arches his thick neck to examine the structure through one gooey eye, intrigued. I can do that, too! Her having a similar magic to him makes his chest bubble with all kinds of pride - he, sharing powers with a demi-God! But it doesn't take him long to realise that she can do what he can and more, as the water in front of him heats and gently froths, like a geyser lurks beneath the surface. His sculpted brow lifts in approval. "At least you'll have warmth during those long Frostfall nights," he rumbles. Her own little portable heater.

It seems her mother's genetics are to thank for such a magic, and Volterra idles on the possibility of magic being hereditary. If so, he is surprised he chose the path of Earth powers, when his dam's burning saliva had seemed so appealing during his youth. Imagine if he could combine the two, the subtle menace of corrosion with the unsubtle, explosive power of earth...but his mind is wandering, and when he is with Isopia he wants to focus fully on her to absorb as much of her as possible in the short time they spend together. The salty tang of the sea aches in his oversensitive, tar-ridden nostrils, but he does not want to leave the gentle caress of the water and the earth-filly's company.

She suddenly looks at him, and his heavy head pricks, alert. What will she ask him? Will she even ask him anything, or is his free pass into the depths of his soul going to be rejected? The question she comes out with is...unexpected, but not entirely unwanted. "Nowhere and anywhere," is his reply, shooting her an enigmatic grin before elaborating. "I am an Outcast, and have been my whole life. My dam is something of a pariah on Helovian soil, and she chooses to live away from the herds." Unless she's forcibly stolen into one, that is. And when she's not trying to forcibly invade one. His upbringing has been far from easy - he and his sister had to learn from an early age to be always alert, without the comfort of a herd to guard them from predators. They had to age before their time, strengthen before their young bodies were ready to harden and grow, survive when all they should have had to worry about was where to play next. The life of a rogue horse is not an easy one, and weaker stock would have perished, either through the harsh conditions or through predation, but the twins had survived and flourished.

He tilts his head at her. "What of you? Have you lived in the Falls your whole life?" That herd that he'd floated on the borders of, admiring from afar. Whilst he wouldn't change his Outcast upbringing for the world, he does wonder how his life would have been different if he'd grown up in normal herd society, with an extended family instead of just his dam and sister. He would probably be a more refined, noble creature with airs and graces, rather than the somewhat primal, guttural and rough-around-the-edges beast he is.

image credits


@Isopia

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#14

She nods as he indicates that her magic will be useful during Frostfall. That was precisely what she was thinking as well, and she appreciated that he was as practical as she. Silently she chided herself for thinking Volterra would make her feel awkward about her magic - he had never been like that, not around her. So why the lingering doubt? As he began speaking, she cleared her thoughts (a task she rarely ever did) and allowed herself to focus entirely on his answer to the question that she wished she could over-write with something more meaningful.

An outcast? It made so much more sense to live in a herd. There were added resources, protections, and benefits. Due to her position with the Falls, she could expend her energy to create even more structures per season. Such a thing would surely appeal to Volterra - and be known to him. So why was he a vagabond? Isopia's muddled golden gaze dipped for a moment, watching the patterns of heat as they migrated across his chest. As her attention swayed, the pillar she had created crumbled into naught, disappearing back into the sea. She was looking for indications that he was lying - for surely lying was not merely a mental process? But nothing in the warm chemistry that this infection had afforded her demonstrated any irregularities. She was no expert of course, but the lack of apparent evidence led her to believe that he was speaking genuinely.

"I was born in the World's Edge. My mother was their ... Queen, I think she was called? Then the Edge invaded the Hidden Falls , due to an apparent unwillingness to remain with the Moon Goddess." Her rust-splattered shoulders shrugged slightly, which caused the magic that was reshaping the swells of her body to stutter for a moment. "I - " A distinct pause. Had she never expressed what she was about to, to anyone before? The words bloomed in her mind, for certainty was something she knew much of. But this side of her - this cold and hard side - caused others to shy away. Normally, their reaction was welcomed. It made it easy to discern who was worth conversing with, and who was merely a shell without a mind. But Volterra... Some part of her retracted at the thought of having him shy away. Never before had the girl thought to lie in this way, to try and please someone else. Usually her lies were merely to keep her life simple - to keep others at a distance. But this was entirely foreign. 

"- she birthed me. I don't know that she loved me though. That is .. I - I don't know what love is I suppose. And even though she aided in giving life to me, I don't feel anything towards her. I don't feel anything towards ... anyone-" Then, as this defensive (and shockingly unconscious) lie caused her cheeks to burn hot with the implications that it meant she felt nothing towards him (which was patently false), she awkwardly coughed, turning her heated cheeks away from him, to gaze out at the sea. " -mostly." She finally forced herself to say. "Not that I feel anything towards my Father - but there were more opportunities in the Falls than there were in the Edge. I serve as a liaison between the herd and my Father. It seems .. fitting. Would you ever want to live (in the Hidden Falls)  in a herd (with me)?"

ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#15


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

He likes this. Black ooze nonewithstanding, he is enjoying their simple conversation. As an Outcast, he rarely gets an opportunity to speak, which is perhaps why he is far from the most eloquent of creatures. He is not a wordsmith, a poet, which is why he often feels intellectually inferior when he and Isopia get into deeper conversations. But this, talking about themselves, is something he can cope with. It is pleasant, and something he imagines he would have done on a regular basis had he grown up in a herd.

Her structure crumbles into dust, and he watches it descend into nothingness with an impassive eye. His ears pivot to focus fully on the earth-filly as she speaks of her birth-herd, the Edge, and an invasion. The notion of war naturally appeals to the battle-minded colt, and a dreamy look appears in his eye as he imagines himself king of his own harem, invading anybody who pisses him off and ruling the damn world. It is also of interest to him that she is the daughter of a Queen. Nature really smiled upon her, didn't it? A God and a Queen, spawning her. He, son of fallen royalty and roving mongrel blood, and she, daughter of power. Again, he wonders at the chain of events that brought them together in friendship and, he prays, more.

She says I, then hesitates. His interest is piqued further, wondering what she is about to impart upon him. Then she talks of her dam, and of not knowing what love is. Does he? He doesn't know. He loves his mother, respects her, and thinks she loves him back in her own twisted way. He loves his sister more than he loves the breath in his lungs, but that love is a smothering, possessive sort that is intrinsically unhealthy, and is directly linked to Volterra's masculine senses of dominance and ownership. And, of course, he loves his dragon, but that is a love born of the fact they share a mind, share everything. Any other love is something he has never truly considered. Lust he has in bucketloads, hunger even moreso, but he does not comprehend the point or idea of loving a none-family member.

Which makes it all the stranger the way his body and mind always react to this particular mare, because it isn't yet love but it is more than lust, more than simple friendship. Is there a name for such an emotion? He doesn't know.

I don't feel anything towards anyone. The water rustles as one leg jerks, unbidden, although his ooze-smeared face remains a mask. He's not expecting a declaration of undying adoration from her, but does this mean she doesn't even consider him a friend? Her cough is like a firing bullet to his painful ears and he flinches slightly, but puts that down to his sensitive hearing rather than his suddenly savaged emotions.

Mostly. Ah, a dangled thread of hope, which he clings onto like a life raft. "Love is overrated," he rumbles. He scorns couples - he has seen and heard plenty of them, crooning sweet nothings to one another. Monogamy can go and fuck itself - it's for swans and weaklings, for stallions who cannot nurture their own harem and would be better off gelded. Ergo, love falls into a similar category, as it must be a strong sensation to overpower a man's natural mare-hoarding instincts - Volterra loathes the idea of being dominated, even by his own emotions. He can't say for definite that he will never feel it, but he won't feel like he has missed out if he doesn't.

She adds that she is a liasion between her herd and her father, and the beast files away the information for future use. She finishes with a question - would you ever want to live in a herd? He is silent for a moment, using one mammoth limb to idly stir the water as he thinks. "I have always aspired to lead a herd. Kinghood runs in my veins, and it is my ambition to one day take a land of my own. Would I join a herd, as a mere member? I can't say. I don't like the idea of relying on others to defend me from stealing attempts, or to be tied to one single land, unable to roam. I do not like the notion of submitting to a leader, and I will not bend the knee or kiss the feet of somebody I do not respect. All I can say is that it depends on the circumstances." And who is asking me.

He side-eyes her, ears pricked, muscles relaxed. "Would you ever leave your herd, and maraud as an Outcast?" It's how the cool kids live!

image credits

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#16



"Love is dangerous." She agrees almost immediately, her ears beginning to flatten against her skull as her mind immediately begins to mentally showcase all the instances in her life when love had done nothing but hinder progress. She thinks of the Moon Goddess, and her half-brother dying in some would-be heroic fashion. She thinks of poor decision making, of feigned obligations and trivial pursuits. But in the back of her mind, she is reminded of warmth, and a tenacious and almost magnetic pulling. For her, she has only experienced this with Volterra, and regardless of how dangerous and tedious her mind makes the emotion out to be, her body flatly disagrees. And if her recent ventures sparring have taught her anything, it is that her body often does not listen to the wisdom of her mind.

This is dangerous. This is not what you were born to do. (Ahh, but it feels so good. Why stop .. why not ... just ...) And so the silent argument in her soul continued.

"Leading does not seem so hard." The girl observed. If her mother could do it, it couldn't be that difficult. Although, given how often her mother let her feelings get in the way (See what love does! Do away with it now! [but isn't he so handsome?]), perhaps it was harder than she thought, and her mother was just a poor representative sample. Then again, she wasn't entirely sure what Archibald and Kaj did as rulers. She had seen them call herd meetings, dole out duties, and respond when their (friends? acquaintances?) stopped by. Other than that, from what Iso could see, the herd ran just fine on its own.

As Volterra mentioned that he wouldn't bend, stoop, or kiss the hooves of one he didn't respect, Iso frowned with confusion. Is that what he thought herds expected. And then with even more confusion - is that what they expected? The girl begrudgingly showed up at herd meetings, but rarely did she do any of the activities assigned to her. She found them pointless; busy work. Besides, with the creation of her hut and and subsequent hot-tub, she had more than enough work to worry about. "I wouldn't expect you to, nor should you have to. I am not sure why herds have become so ... political. There seems to be some scoreboard that they are all trying to get on, but I don't know why. In the Falls, we are given tasks to complete, though rarely have I ever bothered. And yes - " Her quad-horned skull nodded in response, causing thick black goo to snake its way down her muzzle, streaking through her pale death-mask markings. "I have thought of leaving often. But who would carry the words of my Father to the herd? In the past, it seems the holders of my position have not taken it seriously. They have jumbled and judged his meanings, and now the Hidden Falls has seemingly become the runt-herd. But it needn't be that way. Besides, my hut is there.." That hut (and maybe Volterra) were likely the only things tying her to much of anything. Isopia formed no attachments, held no grudges, and other than a friendship with Zero (who had apparently disappeared), the girl cherished nothing. 

"What will you do when you rule?"


ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#17


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

Dangerous. That's one way of putting it. Love turns strong men into simpering idiots. Love makes a horse act in ways he wouldn't normally, influences his mind and owns him. Volterra will freely admit that he'd rip the whole damn world apart for his mother, sister or dragon, so he'll also admit that such a compulsion could work against him in the wrong circumstances. Would he do the same for Isopia? Probably. Almost definitely. Maybe that's not entirely healthy, either.

The filly implies that leading doesn't seem so hard, but Volterra holds himself back from agreeing fully. "I do think there would be some elements of leading that would be difficult. Controlling large numbers of horses, getting them to follow you...to want to follow you, because in times of war they will fight all the harder if they genuinely respect you. But it is something I aspire to, albeit when I am older and stronger - no herd is likely to throw their support behind a boy-king." The giant is greedy, but he also knows patience. Delayed gratification. When he takes a crown, he wants to keep it for a very long time, and not be overthrown by a disgruntled herd who refuse to follow a young unknown stallion.

The earth-girl continues, speaking of herd politics and tasks given out to try and earn leader approval. "Those who complete the tasks are probably doing so to curry favour with the leaders in the hope of earning a higher rank and more status within the herd." That's what happens, isn't it? He imagines so. The 'little people', trying to earn the position of right-hand man. Somehow, it doesn't surprise him that Isopia refuses to conform.

She reveals that she doesn't leave because of the task of spreading her father's word, referring to the Falls as the 'runt-herd'. Her dedication to her position is admirable, and he finds himself nodding his agreement. She follows up her explanation with a question, and Volterra is momentarily silent as he ponders it. "When. I like your optimism." He flashes a small smile, before falling silent as he continues to contemplate. "Truthfully, I haven't thought any further than actually taking and keeping the crown. How I rule will largely depend on the circumstances around it, and if I happen to share the throne with anyone." Like you. The thought fills him suddenly and without his permission, and he snorts goo for a moment. But why not? She would be a fine queen - detatched, able to function without emotion getting in the way. They would make a formidable duo, both physically strong and mentally resilient.

But, he scolds himself, she may not even want to rule. She may not want to rule beside him.

"I aspire to create a strong herd, though, and one spoken about the world over." Invade it and suffer the consequences. "And you? Do you ever hope to take a throne?" He idly swishes the water around his legs as he looks at her.

image credits

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#18

Isopia wasn't necessarily convinced.

"If you asked a herd if they would all like amulets, custom armor made for them, places to sleep, and an abundance of food - they would say yes. They would like to be spoiled, to be given things. But soon, resources would grow scarce, or invading herds would come and there would be nothing left with which to create defenses, tools, or weapons. The herd would collapse, or be overthrown, and they would blame the leader. So giving a herd what it wants, is not always best. However-" Iso tossed her quad-horn skull to remove her russet forelock from her eyes before continuing. "If once was frugal with resources, always ensuring there would be more if needed, and never giving out more than was earned, the herd would grow restless, always wanting what they couldn't have. They wouldn't fight with respect, but out of service to a leader who merely suppressed them- albeit for their own good. And so they would blame their leader. If you lead, forging diplomatic ties wherever you go - they will call you soft and blame you. If you fight wars, build fences and grow your warriors, they will call you callous, and blame you. If you lead by example, they will fault you for your mistakes. If you lead with idealistic principles, they will fault you for your nativity. " Could he see the theme she was hinting at?

Herds - and therefore the members who comprised them - would always resent, judge, or disrespect their leaders in some way. They didn't know what they ought to want, or what was actually best for them. Most focused on short-term interests and selfish pursuits. Why bother trying to earn their respect? Did it really have the payoff that Volterra thought it did? Was it necessary ?

As his question turns her own reasoning back on herself, the earthen-girl shrugs slightly. Would she? Likely. Her mother had been a queen, and her Father a God. Ruling seemed like a path that she would one day walk, but she was neither hurrying, nor dawdling, towards that end. "I see others rule, and I think that I could do better. I see mistakes made because of emotional pressures. I see alliances forged and dropped because of sexual tensions. Ranks are filled because of nepotism. Look at me - I am their oracle simply because I am related to the patron of their herd. Perhaps that is a good reason in itself, but perhaps it isn't. " The demi-god shrugged. 

"But I can do nothing as of yet. I've tried sparring and..." Suddenly apprehension and weak embarrassment flooded her mind. Was she really about to admit her many defeats to Volterra? Just like that? Swallowing hard, and passing off the pause as a moment merely to get the black goo out of her eyes, she continued. "I grew so quickly that-" Drawing attention to her body was not necessarily where she had wanted this conversation to go. But now that the words were out of her mouth, her mind could find no reasonable way to retract them, and she was forced to finish her thought. "- sometimes I feel as though I don't have control over it yet. I move to strike an opponent, and find only air."






ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#19


I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN
I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW

Again he listens, and again he wants to kick himself for his lack of intellectual ability. "That in itself is difficult. Deciding whether you want to be a strong leader, a cruel leader, a gentle leader, or a mixture of all. It seems like a thankless job to me, because it's impossible to please a whole herd all of the time." The 'perfect' leader would be able to taper their personality to each situation. They would know when to rule with an iron fist and when to let their grip slacken, when to send in their soldiers and when to try and find a more diplomatic solution. That is why Volterra knows that he is not yet mature enough to rule. His answer to every situation would be kick the shit out of it until it submits, which is not an ideal way to lead a herd. He wants to be a feared and famed king, but not a stupid one, a little boy playing with toy soldiers.

Hell, this conversation makes him wonder why he wants to lead at all. But he does. It's in his blood, it thrums in his muscles and sings in his heart. He must achieve it one day, no matter the trials that will be put in his way.

She answers his question and his ears are pivoted towards her, interest evident. Indeed, Isopia's cold view of the world would likely help her ability to lead - she doesn't have to worry about being tugged by emotional urges. When she mentions sexual tensions as one of her leadership perils, he feels his spine tingle, hoping that her feelings towards such things aren't entirely derisory. Surely, surely, there is something inside her that is a tiny bit curious about such tensions? Not that it should bother him if she isn't, but for whatever reason, it does.

At the moment, though, such things are far from his mind. He has never felt less attractive, with his oozing face and stupidly sensitive senses. He begins to wander out of the water, feeling the chill begin to set into his bones and bring a shiver to his tight flesh. He is about to end their talk and head off to graze and muse over this new disease when she speaks again, revealing that she has tried sparring and found herself...lacking. This interests him, and he turns his thick neck back to her. He allows his gaze to travel brazenly across her, noting her size and physical age that far dwarfs his despite the fact she is actually a few months his junior. He'd never considered before how this may affect things like her co-ordination, her fighting ability, her ability to forsee a hit and move accordingly. He naturally assumed that she would be a warrioress, a young war machine bred out of godly perfection. He finds himself itching to test his strength against her, two giants fighting like street dogs, but he knows this isn't wise until he gets more control over his stallion's instincts. He wouldn't want to make a dick of himself by having her decimate him because he's too busy staring at her ass.

"You are young, kis hollo," he rumbles, his voice aimed to be reassuring. "We are not born warmongers. I like to think I will be able to step straight onto the battlefield and destroy all in my path once I reach manhood, but I know that is unlikely, that perfection takes time. I don't doubt that, with practice, we will both become strong warriors, able to rule powerful herds." Or the same herd. He flashes her a wink at the reference to their leadership conversation. He hovers by the edge of the water, tilting his head to invite her with him towards the lush grazing nearby, before they go their seperate ways.

image credits

[ 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 ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#20

The earthen girl watches the warm orange ripples of colour drain from Volterra's chest, to be replaced with cooler yellow hues. He is not blue - not like the frigid chill of the ocean. Even as heat drains from his body, he remains warm.

We are not born warmongers

Inside something in Isopia blooms; she knows that in this, he is wrong. Something about the chance to correct his world view is enticing - especially on the heels of his comment about her age. "We are born who we are. You might think life is an open book, but it is not. Just as it was fixed from the moment of copulation, that you should look like this-" Selfishly she allowed her gaze to roam the yellow-orange battlefield of his body to emphasize her point. "- so too is your destiny. An acorn seed, nestled in the earth, might think that that all doors of life are open. But they aren't. It is destined to grow into an oak. The only thing under it's control is the caliber of its growth. A strong oak, or a sickly one."

Her large, golden, sludge filled eyes appraised him for a moment as he looked towards blue-yellow grasses, billowing in the winds.

"Our paths are fixed. Only how we walk them is under our control." She concluded, gently shaking her quad horned skull no in response to his offer to graze. Hunger was an appetite that she stifled, just like so many other involuntary bodily responses. She would eat when she decided, not when her body did.

Fanning her mismatched wings, the demi-god's gaze lingered for a moment - as if contemplating whether to say more. In truth, she was wondering if she should say goodbye, and if so, should she follow it up with see you later? Did she even want to make such an invitation? What if he accepted? What if he didn't? And so, as enough time passed as to render anything she said next completely awkward, she merely mentally shrugged and took to the air.

{weeeee <33333}


ISOPIA
IN REALITY'S SHADOW THE BLIND SEE BEST
Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here


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