A d r i x a u r a
hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,
then life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
How dare they?! Anger surged in her veins, burning away at the insides of her body. Her child screamed inside of her body, begging for the calm of its mother. Calm actions weren't something that was about to come to the spotted mare. Every single bit of her body was enraged, and heat released from her black fire of a heart could be felt in the world around her. It was cold and the sunlight played no warmth, but her anger was hot enough to block out the cold.
A piercing scream broke out from her lips as she let her anger flee. Her?! A mare as beautiful as herself, be taken prisoner?! And by a child?! This was surely a turn of events, and one that only set the mare into fury. Her scream shot through the trees around, birds flying away in panic and fear as she almost let another roar throughout the place. The child, oh poor baby, was pleading its mother to calm herself, for the sake of the pair. A child can only take such misery before it finds a way to fight back.
It came sharp and sudden to her, and as it burst through her stomach, she groaned. The foal had only kicked her, fighting with her. Her pale blues went to her stomach, turning her neck to attempt to rub her muzzle upon her stomach where the child had injured her. If anything, the foal wasn't going to be born within this cursed place. It had every right in the world to a healthy life ahead, and living inside of a place like so would get them no where.
Right now the only hope she was truly able to see within this situation was that she had a chance to speak to another Assassin who had already been taken prisoner. Tonka? Was that the name? It had been some time since she had last spoken to Ignita, and it seemed she had forgetten exactly where everyone had gone. She gave herself a sigh, failed attempts to calm herself for the sake of her baby. Now was the time that she was going to have to watch herself. Did they know of her baby? Probably, it seemed at some point they would notice the spotted mare's growing stomach. Her heart dropped into the depths of hell thinking of what would happen if they tried to take her baby from her. No, not her child. Not the most precious thing in existence to her at the moment.
Leaves moved in the wind in front of her stand point, watching them move by. This place was only reminding her of her mother who she left behind, and in some cruel, heartless way that she was only acceptable to have, she gave her devil's smile as a thought of her mother dying came upon her mind. The relationship between the pair had always been a twisted and broken one that her sire had tried to piece together before finally giving up on the pair ever getting along. Yet in her time here, she might as well have a bit of fun. Havok, maybe? Everyone here was probably uptight as the ones within the herds were said to be. And here she was, a free soul who used her beauty and mind to make herself known as the Devil's Advocate.
Now now, lets see the mind brilliant enough to take the infamous Devil's Advocate herself.
She giggled, smiling her little smile she had so well. Words moved upon her tongue, normal like any equine like herself, yet for how it played, it was a snake's forked tongue. "Now now, where's the cruel bastard who dare take a lady like myself prisoner? I demand to see the brilliant mind who can take the Devil's Advocate herself to mercy. Make me smile, why don't you?"
Her word were so cruel and hateful. It was only the beginning of her building up of her deadly arsenal. Better get the troops ready, for tonight we fight monsters from the gates of hell.
OOC: Sorry, but I have really big muse for her. Not to mention as she is now a prisoner, it'll start some big issues as when I played her on another site (thus where her history comes), she got held hostage because a madman fell in love with her. And her little passenger only makes this more interesting!
P.S. The riddle you wrote was absolutely beautiful. <3
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image credits
table by whit
| Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Jen |
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The hunter found himself suddenly entering an entirely different level of comprehension. Hearing the minds of his ancestors had been complex enough, but a new body is beyond strange. The new sensation of living in someone else's figure is strikingly uncomfortable. He sees with eyes that are not his own, walks with young, shaking legs that do not belong to him. The body of the long-dead buckskin colt Zsoka haunts the earth once more, treading for the first time upon the soil of a new land. It is as if he truly lives again through Knox.
It is almost easy to forget that it is all magic. Every detail is painted so perfectly, down to the chronic shaking of the colt's foreleg as he struggles to trot towards the edge of the foothills and towards his responsibility. Zsoka's childish mind mixes with Knox's coldly rational understanding of the world. Though the colt's affection may shine through, it is Knox's mind that controls this body now.
By the side of the buckskin is Manhattan, ever loyal to her master even as he sports magic from a Goddess that the mutt finds accursed and wretched. The bitch keeps her nose low as she leads Knox on through the afternoon shadows cast by the cold sun above. Her gaze flits back to Knox constantly, however; she cannot help her concern. Since the ending of the life of the mare in the marsh, her master has seemed saddened.
She cannot say that he has been more serious, for he is always serious, but perhaps more emotional. She notices with worry how often now he taps into the minds of his ancestors, as if to escape from his own. But today he has emerged from the shadow maze of complexity that is his consciousness. Happy to hear his thoughts once again, she stays close and lets her fur brush against the spindly legs of the colt he possesses.
Together, they arrive before the captive. The mare is noticeably pregnant, and even more noticeably enraged, but the hunter does not balk at the prospect of dealing with such a temper. In the form of a child, he knows instantly he must be more like-able. As many as he may have murdered, Zsoka's body is pure. In his eyes, there is only innocence.
"Sorry to have inconvenienced you, Adrixaura," Knox speaks in a child's voice to the mare. She is almost a complete stranger, it is odd to meet her now in such an intimate manner. He knows her through the Grey's intelligence alone. Does he truly know her well enough to convince her to stay? The colt's buttercream nose turns down to pick nervously at his chest as Zsoka's nervous twitches display. His ears twitch and his striking black eyes search for her gaze. The oversized bridle droops across his features, creating before the enraged devil's advocate an image of helplessness. And then, he continues to speak: "but I have a proposition for you."
His foreleg twitches rapidly, betraying the nervousness of young Zsoka that shines through Knox's confidence and rings clear in the voice that hintingly sounds older than it should. In uncomfortable silence he waits, doing all he can to focus his thoughts away from the body of the mare now rotting in the spectral marsh. Manhattan whines and presses her nose into his shaking leg, but her assurances were not enough then and they are not now. The expression in his eyes darkens with the thoughts of the stranger's death, but he forces them away and turns once again to speech. "The wilds are no place to raise a child. Even a mare such as yourself cannot protect a foal from the dangers of an outcast's life," he goes on with a careful tone, as if he is playing with fire. And then his focus narrows as Manhattan's thoughts creep into his own. Is this truly a good plan, she wonders?"But the Foothills can offer you a home."
Whether it is a good plan or not, it is too late to go back now.
[[Knox is currently using his shapeshifting magic so that he looks like Zsoka, whose appearance can be found on Knox's profile. Also, thanks about the stealth. <3 Now let's get some plots cooking! :P]]
KNOX and MANHATTAN
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Image by Elope
A d r i x a u r a
hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,
then life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
It is commonly seen as an extreme form of cowardly motives to appear as a foal, or just to send a child to do the work of a grown man. Before her stood the sadness and most gut wrenching thing she'd seen. She was a captive, yes, and when she was to report to her captor, she didn't except a damned foal. A growl almost escaped her throat in sudden anger towards Knox. She expected a full grown stallion, elegant and powerful, worthy to hold the right to be her captor. But here stood innocence, cowardly, and a nervous twitch. A sharp snort came from the mare as she attempted to cool her anger. It was best for her baby, wasn't it?
"And this colt that stand before me be known as Knox? I expected better from someone who would was cruel enough to take a lady like myself from her home, not to mention with her cargo being an unborn child. If much from you, I expect civilized matters. My child is not part of this."
Fire was already raging inside of her. Flames moved within her chest, sparks flying about, waiting for the colt to through gasolene onto them just to set her off. The world was a cruel and cold place, and being puckled from home is a terrifying experience if anything. Every part of her was set to high alert. Ears pricked right towards the pair of colt and dog, pale eyes throwing stares of death into the souls.
A smile pricked across her face as the buckskin colt began to speak to her. Innocence was being played toward her, and well taught tactics brought her to ignore every bit of the veil thrown on the fake show. He was only trying to make her take his side. The Grey was enough to have their own herdland, yet coming in contact like so was enough for her. Her eyes remained glues as Knox moved in nervous ways. Thoughts surged through her mind like a tidal wave, picking out the weaknesses there was sure to be. If only she could pin them out, and use them in the tactical way considered usage of her silver tongue. She giggled to herself, smiling with something that only portrayed pure evil within.
He speaked more, hearing the careful way he pulls out his words. Oh, was she that bad of a monster? She hadn't learned this yet, or maybe someone hadn't noticed it yet. Conversation went to the wilds, and then her baby. What followed after was the gasoline to the black fire within her chest.
For those within a good distance of her voice, there would certainly be confusion upon their mind, and tinge of fear. She was a mother, a hormomal monster, and a force to scared of at this moment. There is no filter to what can come from her.
"NOW?! What is you say, you little bastard child?! Your proposition is meaningless to the likes of myself. My loyalty lays strong to those I find lucky enough to grow close to me. And that is exactly what the Assassins, and my precious child, have recieved. You must find me weak if you think a lady like myself doesn't have the power to raise her own child. And for even being in this place, its almost as disgusting as the Spectral Marsh. It smells like a place for burial of only the worst types of corpses, and I would have my own self killed before I even let myself, yet alone my child, be here. For treason towards the Assassins, you'll have to find the most horrible forms of torture to crack my shell."
One step towards the colt, head lowered down to the same level as Knox's. Pale blue eyes seemed only to have blood red hatred filling them to the brink. A lock of black forelock fell across her face, hiding away her eyes and some of the black spotting around them. A giggle followed with a devilish smile. She let her gaze meet the child's, staring dead into the depths of black murk. Her reflection showed within them, and she admired herself. Time to ruin the mind of a poor helpless child.
"Mess with my baby and me. We'll both see what happens when you worthless piece of horse flesh touches one thing that I may hold dear. Now, tempt me with something worth my time."
How was she laughing now? It was laughter, yes, escaping from her. So much like her grandfather who held a soldier's point of view. Yet must she be so macabre? This place itself was coming down upon her mind, twisting and pulling new strings that had yet to be pulled. With a jolt, she moved her elegant head back from the colt's gaze, smiling upon his nervous stature. Lips quickly closed as she ended her laughter towards him. The dog beside him soon caught her attention, seeing the companionship to Knox. She smirked, staring down the black dog with attention set towards it.
"I'm your worst nightmare, little boy."
OOC: She is kind of nutty. Blame the hormones.
Also, this will probably be the last post I can get in for the weekend unless something happens.
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image credits
table by whit
| Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Jen |
05-05-2013, 01:22 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-05-2013, 01:22 PM by Knox.)
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The young is surprisingly composed as he stands before her, but for some reason it is when she calls him a bastard that his temper ignites. Perhaps the hunter's own burning loyalty to the sentinel is what feeds the fire, or perhaps another mind simply rejects her lack of manners. Whatever the reason, he struggles somewhat to keep his cool. The child's foreleg shakes with impatience, and his teeth press together tightly. Manhattan's hackles raise, but at her master's insistence her teeth remain hidden beneath her black lips. "Do not call a child a bastard, Adrixaura; You never know where his father might be," Knox said cooly in Zsoka's innocent voice, letting an expression of brief remorse flicker across his features. Perhaps she would pity the colt Zsoka before he faded away. "I do not see your child's father looking for you, after all. Perhaps, if you cannot see the dangers of the wilds as a threat to your child, you can consider instead the benefits of it growing up with a herd and family. You may be strong, I do not doubt that in the slightest, but a child raised in solitude is a child raised without an understanding of the dangers or kindnesses of others that is hard to learn later in life." The colt spoke from experience that he only hoped she might detect.
She is unimpressed, this is evident. Clearly his ploy has not worked; but this is fine. He has expected that, in some measure, he will have to adjust. So when she calls for something that might tempt her, Huric willingly steps forward. He is handsome and cordial, calm and predictable. There is nothing more straightforward than predictability; nothing more honest than that which is expected.
"Do not think this a trick, for I will explain," he warns her first. And then, exercising the power he newly possesses, his features shuffle quickly like a deck of cards until his body morphs into that of handsome Huric the martyr. Standing taller, Knox levels his gaze with Adrixaura's. Huric's deep pink eyes catch her gaze with sincerity; his long, silken tail catches in the noontime wind. "I am not the only one in this land that possesses magic, but I am one of the few so willing to share with you its capabilities. Showing you what I can do..." he begins, flickering through faint images of his other ancestors as he speakes, allowing his voice to shift tones and take on different hues, "...that is a gesture of trust. I would like for you to place that same trust in me; to understand that I mean only the best for you and your child." His magic settles upon Huric once more, who sports the tight, red brown bridle and firm muscles of a Old Country soldier. He has so much potential, Anaan thinks sadly. He has so much left to show the world, thinks Janos with passion.
The rose-grey gentleman stands firm before the pregnant mare and strong beside his own companion, who has since settled and let herself be soothed by Huric's easeful thoughts. "The assassins want you and your child only to build their numbers; they know nothing of loyalty. Here in The Grey, your child could be taught to be strong and capable, among warriors who care for both of you like family. I was raised outside their kindness, but have come now to consider it my own." Knox's thoughts are put to good use in the capable mind of Huric, who shapes each word diplomatically. "Do not be so quick to judge, and do not be so hasty to turn from an opportunity that can change your life, and the life of your child, for the better," he concludes, doing what he can to remain calm in the face of her spat slurs and impatient fury.
She may not see it, but he is sincere. Something within Knox has stirred him to kindness. Is it the death of the stranger? Perhaps. Perhaps he feels that after having taken such a young and innocent life, he must better one yet to come. He cares less for Adrixaura and more for her child; he knows she is wicked and volatile, he can tell from the way that she carries herself and her acidic pattern of speech. Perhaps she is beyond saving, but her child may not be. Roanne has watched with shame as the child he thoughtlessly brought into this world was raised to kill and forget his heart. Now, the sentinel counts himself among the ancestors that support so wholeheartedly this endeavor. Mandrake may be gone, but her lessons are not. She has taken Knox and ruined him, that, Roanne will never forget.
[[I love Adrixaura's character, fyi. She's super interesting/intense.]]
KNOX and MANHATTAN
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Image by Elope
A d r i x a u r a
hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,
then life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
This was becoming war between the pair. War of the mind, and though pregnant, she knew already that she was fully acapable of war with the usage of her mind. It was able to get her into very special places, now wasn't it?
She is aware of the colt's actions and takes to her words. A sly smirk comes from her with a muffled giggle within her mind. Her head leans into her, mouth brushing against his ears. His comment holds no effect to her. She'll slip a giggle into his ear, and whispers that could only be heard between the pair.
"Well little boy, if you're a bastard, then my child, you, and I all have something in common. Now isn't that special?
A rogue thought tells her to take a nip to the child, but she minds herself not to hurt someone while she is here. Instead, as she recoils, she pushes her mouth against the child's head where his ears become part of his body. No action is done except brushing it. She wants him to know that she'll do something if it comes to. The baby inside of her is not a pawn, yet a life line to the Appaloosa mare, one she will fight make sure it recieves the best for its life. And time within a herd where you may not roam freely to meet only the most unique of creautures is a torture for a young soul. As a child under a strict first time mom, she knew what her baby was going to need.
Why was he holding innocence towards her like she was about to fall to her knees and beg mercy and take him in like a mother should to a motherless child? A groan came from her as he spoke, talking about the foal's father and how he unlikely to come along. Thoughts went to Roy and how they'd only shared a brief experience with one another, like the one she had with Kanai. Except this one turned well, and she wasn't captive to Roy. Just a damned coward before her.
Hmmm? What now was he saying to her? Something about how her child not being raised within a herd wouldn't be healthy for the kid. What was he to know? Rolling her pale blue eyes, she put herself down to his level again, putting her eyes to the dog for a moment. Cursed mutt.
"I wish you had a brain within your head for once kiddo. I want what is best for my baby, and the best they shall get. I was a child at one time, innocent and loved by all who came upon me because my family was well known as gentle and quiet where I came from. Don't you know that one bad apple ruins the bunch? The stallion who raised me held more care to me than my mother even though he wasn't my father. He had only been smart to withdraw kindness from me as long as he could. For what? For my own protection. You must a monster to get the best of an outcome. And that I intend, and shall, teach to my child."
He speaks of a trick, and she draws a shred of attention towards him, fully aware and welcome to anything different. She was born upon messed up antics, now to see one play out in front her? "Oh Knox, please do something to please. You are so boring and dull." Her infamous smile comes out, tempting the colt to do something that would assure her she wasn't wasting her perfect time right now. Since, in any way, she might be out right now moving about taking time to herself before the baby came.
When he changes his shape, she gives him a look of pleasure, like he has pleased her. It holds for no more than five seconds before trailing off to elsewhere so it might be enjoyed later on. She .intends in every way to trick him that he may be working on her, when he is only putting himself further and further away from his goal. She wishes to see his true self, the thing that he is completely hiding from her. Damn coward.
Now, a lady can not lie when she finds something may please her slightly. The looks of Knox's new form seem to please her, yet seeing the bridle that appeared on the colt before only reminds her this isn't true. His voice is caught by her white ears placed inbetween a break of her black mane and forelock. It changes tone and takes new colour to it as he admits placing trust within her, and asking trust in her. Her thoughts can only find one word to think about his actions. Idiot. Yet isn't this to her advantage? A voice whispers to her in her head. 'I do believe so.'
She smiles to her own thoughts, knowing he is rambling even more. At a point during his annoying jamble of speak does she hear him speak about the Assassins and The Grey, and only then does the black flame roar to life like a wildfire across dry brush.
"Now you worthless piece of bird crap, if you dare speak of the Assassins in that way again you will feel my full fury. If my loyalites be lain somewhere, they shall stay there as if chained to the ground."
The words escape between her gritting teeth, her body now taking steps towards the stallion. A certain sway is given to her body, black tail held high in the elegance of her granddam's pure Arabian bloodlines. Locks of black forelock fall over her face, a shroud over her face. Her body presses against his, swollen belly the first touch him. A light shift of weight is put on him, standing to the left of his body. A giggle parts her lips as she attempts to make him side step with her weight before moving off of him to her own antics. Steady pace to a walk, body swaying like any beautiful woman would move her body, she loops herself around him, appearing three feet away from his right flank before she attempts to make herself known. Get him in a twist. Get him in a twist!.
The child tosses within her stomach, asking its mother why she act in such a way towards the colt, or should she say stallion in the form Knox had taken to? She whispers a quiet "Shh...." to the child, attempting to calm it as if it may hear her voice. A stern glare to set to Knox, staring him within the eyes. She mustn't let her baby become her weakness, yet instead, make the unborn her biggest strength.
OOC: *giggles* Thank you. <3 She has been one of my favourite characters of all since she has changed so much over the time I've had her. Be two years on September 11th.
Also, excuse me if I seem speedy with my replies. Whenever this thread finishes, I intend for her to give birth. Where Knox maybe should stop in and spice things up and see the baby that all the fuss is over.
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image credits
table by whit
| Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Jen |
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The fighter's deep pinked eyes narrow with a rage that burns in the breast of another soul. Each of them would have handled this situation differently in their time; now, they watch from behind shared eyes and shout loudly into one mind. Huric shakes his white-edge mane and steps backwards in visible frustration as she goes on like a fool; he bears his teeth when she insults him so blatantly. Knox, still at the center of it all, scolds his ancestors for revealing themselves so readily. He is thankful, at least, that Manhattan's urgings and his own good sense have kept his true form hidden.
As the mare draws closer, a chorus of complaint arises in the young stallion's mind. Inside, Zsoka cries once more for his own mother, seeming lost and almost blind behind the silver smoke that casts an omnipresent haze over the eyes of Knox's victims. Zekiah almost falls for the temptation, Roanne recoils in disgust. And Dovev, well... Dovev warps the hunger into something else entirely. But through it all, the only expression to cross Huric's face is one of determined diplomacy. For a time, it is maintained well.
Perhaps it is when her body collides with his, when her swollen belly brushes against him, that Knox loses control. His body shuffles through figures and then Dovev swiftly commands his own, steeled-grey figure forth. The massive stallion stands tall above Adrixaura, and as he throws himself forward, pressing into her with an unsatisfiable longing and an indelicate force, he hopes to see her stumble. Lies crafted by the thief flow like water from between Dovev's black lips, each one tailored to terrify and deceive. "If you cannot know my generosity, you cannot know my face, foolish mare! I can be any stallion I have ever known; I could be the father of your child! You know nothing of me, and you never shall," Dovev snarls, his lies nigh impossible to detect. And how could she call him on the bluff? She knows not of his acquaintances or Knox's own ancestors. As far as she is concerned, he is an ever shifting warden whose face she'll never know. "You had a chance, Adrixaura, but I see you are too stubborn to understand that I could have helped you- too foolish to recognize the deception of your beloved assassins even as it stands right beneath your nose. They will ruin you and your child, while I offered nothing but safety," he continues, tapping into Cem's commanding side just to remain sane. Dovev's twisted motives are dangerous, Knox knows this. If he wishes to keep the mare alive, he must keep the murderer in check.
Dovev advances upon her, his old and powerful body poised to attack at any moment. If only he could have his way with her, the murderer thinks. If only there were not puppeteers shortening his strings, keeping him at bay and turning his instinct to torture and defile into no more than a threat. Manhattan stands close to his side, her mind reeling with fear of what Dovev may do to Adrixaura, but comforted by the voice of her own true master and the assuring thoughts of Dovev's closest son.
He cannot hurt anyone now, Anaan reminds Manhattan. And he is right, she knows this. The just minds of Cem and Roanne, the innocence of Zsoka and Janos, the honor of Huric, the cowardice of Zekiah, and at last the wisdom of Knox himself all balance the rage of the once-mighty Dovev. Though the threat may seem immediate to Adrixaura, the mutt and her master know better.
Dovev steps backward, influenced by Roanne's disgust. "You would use yourself, and even your child, to sway me now? You are foul, Adrixaura, perhaps I had overestimated you; perhaps you are no better than the Assassins in the end," Knox remains silent, but Roanne's words slip through Dovev's more intelligible accent. What is Dovev now, other than an image of doom? Others speak through him, control him. His rage mounts, but to what?
[[May I have permission to use Knox's blinding magic on Adrixaura? This will last for as long as he desires, and may carry over into another thread. As for the birthing thread, I'm sorry to be holding you up! Once we finish this interaction it will be interesting to see how he handles her having her child.]]
KNOX and MANHATTAN
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Image by Elope
A d r i x a u r a
hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,
then life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
It is almost too much fun for the spotted mare right now. She was enjoying pulling at Knox too much right now, and as she watched him bare his teeth to her, a plaint laugh comes from her. A smile is directed towards him, remembering she'd taken down a king before. Now how was it that a shapeshifter like Knox here wasn't working? Maybe because Kanai was blind and idiot. Knox lacked that, and it kept her going. Pouring gasoline to the never ending wildfire in her chest, might you say? Though what sets her off the most is when pressure is returned to her body when she attempts to make him take a step sideways.
That had to be what began it all.
Her body was clumsy with the extra weight of the foal, and she was reminding herself over and over again that right now she held a precious passenger that needed to visit her soon. But just feeling herself be push and shoved around a like a rag doll was all that took to set her off. Anger surged through her body, muscles tensing. Inside her mouth, her white teeth gritted together as she bit her tongue. 'Be calm. Be calm. Remember the baby.' Screw that.
She'd only taken two missteps and hadn't fallen down. But it was only enough to anger her. If the pair were characters within a child's cartoon, her eyes would of lit into flames like the characters do when they are angry. But this was reality, and her pale blue eyes were filled with hatred. The forked, silver tongue within her mouth itched with harsh words as she regained herself. The stallion's next words and shift to a new body never helped. Having someone tower over her never worked out well. It only made the mare take more blind fury to the monster before. And then the countdown began.
3....2....1..... BLAST OFF.
"Now you disgusting piece of horse flesh locked away in this damn, cursed HELL HOLE of a pile of bull crap, you have no given right to toss a pregnant lady like myself around! If my poor child comes out with any, and I mean ANY, things wrong with them, I'll make it my lifelong goal to make sure you worthless piece of crap never have anymore eye balls anymore. For I'll find a way to tear them completely out of your skull. And may your damned soul be thrown into hell with every single scum bag like yourself. Now, if you wish to play dirty, then lets get, you worthless load of bull crap.
What may of made it worse was the way he had insulted Roy Strider, remembering how the stallion was the father of the child she carried. The stallion meant nothing to her. She wanted a child, and thats what she got when Roy donated the sperm to get her there. Yet at the thought of Knox being the child's father was blackening her soul. A spark flew down into her chest, touching the base for the black flame for her heart. It wasn't warming up to this stallion before her, instead lighting itself up and heating to a thousand degrees to throw every bit of hate towards him.
"Yet now that I look upon you, and see through your viel, I can easily tell just how dumb you are. You have youth, and won't learn to ways to put yourself in the right position to get what you want. Though, you forget, as you can tell. I know everything I'm doing. I do not change myself and hide who I am exactly just to make sure that I can keep the truth hidden. You can not be my child's father, for there is nothing of him in you. I can see that perfectly well."
She gleams in pride towards herself. Everything to her anger was now towards one set goal. To make his mind break, and for him to snap under her might. She was brilliant, and the Assassins should know this well when they look upon the spotted mare. She wasn't just another pretty little thing to be made into a trophy wife, instead she was a trained master in trickery. And it played damn well good right now.
He speaks of her foolishness, fueling her pride and anger. Why was he calling her foolish, when he was too blind to see what she was doing when it was going on right now in front of his very eyes? Must be too full of himself to notice. At her own thoughts she laughs midway through his little speech. A stride away from him is taken, placing herself where he is straight in her view. Any movement he takes she can now monitor, and plan out the best line of action.
"You say I had a chance, yet where is it? If you knew anything about me, you'd know that I won't take to any stallion unless I know he is too dumb to attempt to hold me. Got held captive before, got away at least ten times every full cycle of the Moon. He'd bring me home, I'd sit around, and then take off when he wasn't paying attention. Now the Assassin's respect my freedom well. Reason to align with them instead your bull crap. But for being ruined, my child is pure. Now me, thats my personal opinion you aren't going to get. As for safety, I see it when I'm alone."
Fully and completely aware as of him advancing towards herself, she moves away from him, shifting weight away to escape any fury he may put to her. Any attack would hurt the baby. It had to be something to think off right now. Her eyes move to the dog, smiling towards it. Seems friendly enough and partially smart, unless its master.
Everything about her body stays upon him, watching him like a hawk as he steps back. A little smirk passes over her facade. He calls her foul, the words falling flat to her. Words could never hurt her, unless they came from the only ones she ever cared about. Her own mother had used cruel words upon her, but what was she to mean to her first born child now? Nothing. Any of Adrixaura's respect was lost for the mare the very moment she figured out her mother was using her. Knox wasn't using her, as far as she could tell he was only trying to hurt her. When would get smart and notice that his words fell flat?
"I am not using my child, nor myself to sway you. Now, it was you, who was attempting to take the child from the caring grasp of its only parent to let it live here, away from its true home. Bastard."
The laugh she released afterwards couldn't be held back as she looks him dead in the eyes. Emotion is taken out of her eyes and every bit of physical body. It isn't to be expressed in any way. It'd give away her plan. "Now, lets try this again, won't we? Please me."
All that she was asking now was for him to shift again. To give her something to be pleased with. Yet the pair knew too well that wasn't going to happen. She wasn't getting anywhere just yet, but progress was being made somewhere along the twisted line that was this play.
OOC: I hate to say it, but please don't. It worries me as she is pregnant that it might affect the baby. But it would extremely interesting. Yet take your time! No need to rush. <3
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image credits
table by whit
| Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Jen |
05-22-2013, 10:03 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-22-2013, 10:06 AM by Knox.)
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The murderer has long since lost the patience required of a composed guard. The relationship between captive and captor is not to be a peaceful one, Knox realizes with disappointment and a deep-set frown. But it is not all on his own shoulders, he knows this and bears it with pride. The mare before him is making her own bed of thorns, when he had once offered her to a life of down feathers. Not your fault, his companion reminds him.
No, it is not his fault. "Don't feign pain to get a reaction from me. I know my force, I did nothing more than push you aside," the hunter says cooly, attempting to maintain composure even as she slings insults at him. And so it is perhaps that lack of guilty feeling, stirred once too roughly by Adrixaura's venomous words, that slips the grip of the ancestors. As if being physically held back by ropes suddenly let loose, Dovev lunges forward. His powerful steel form lunges forward mercilessly. She may threaten him all she likes, he is not afraid of her. His teeth snap threateningly, perhaps only inches from her delicate face, and his churning hooves strike the ground before her. If not for Roanne, Dovev might have gone too far. But the pitch Sentinel shifts forth and overtakes the surface of Knox's appearance; Dovev's charge ends in a swift and powerful rear just before Adrixaura.
The Sentinel lands, the tattered black bridle slapping against his face as it hangs loose and sweating with curse. He steps backward, giving her space. "Hiding who I am? Nuh, mim. I do not hide muhsulf as a mutter uf cowurduce. I would not be tuh be thuh futher of yur chyuld, thus is true. But as I am, yuh wull nevur know me becuse yuh do nut ruspect me. Yuh do nut truly want tuh know me," Roanne's words are delivered in his thick and heavy accent, but with sincerity. The hunter sees Adrixaura only faintly now through the haze of Roanne's blindness; she is no more than a shimmering outline of blurred white against a expanse of black. Manhattan understands instinctively, and moves forward to be his eyes. Her body sways and presses against his, blending with the tangled black feathers and mane of the wild beast of the woodlands.
No, Roanne will not be tamed. It is for this reason, perhaps, that the hunter knows he can rest easy behind the solid gold eyes of his father. If any one of his ancestors can deal with Adrixaura, it is the Sentinel. "I buleave we have misunderstood each uther, Adrixauruh. I did nut intend tuh hold yuh hurr. My offur wus fur yur freedum amung us. I shuld nut huv tryd tuh tell yuh whurr yuh belunged, and I apolugize fur my rudeness, but yuh shuld understund that, by rufusing my offur yuh have imprisuned yurself."
The Sentinel's heavy, impressive body steps to the side, aiming to leave her more room that the other ancestors had not aimed to provide her with. Rough as he was in appearance and tone, the Sentinel was a gentle and understanding creature. Perhaps he could speak in a way that she would understand. "I see yuh are an induhpenunt and powurful mare and mothurr, mim, I did nut intund tuh suggest utherwise. Yuh have more thun proven yurself capuble," his young lips sputter as he speaks, his neck flashes upwards and his head follows, exposing the jagged, red scars that still shine fresh on his cheek. The darkness around him is overwhelming and strange. Knox knows blindness in his own silver gaze, trapped by magic, but this is new. This is a cursed blindness, one that puts him at ill ease and forces him to seek out Manhattan's comfort. She has calmed to match the Sentinel, appearing wise and unthreatening as she sits pressed against him.
He remembers what he has heard, the mare's story. To be held captive... in such a manner, and for so long. The hunter senses a shiver within the heart of the Sentinel, catches the slightest quivering of Huric and Janos' souls. They understand the oppression. They know, better than any other, the consequences of such a life and the toll it can take. "I keep yuh hurr not as any surt uf punushment, Adruxura; it sadduns me tuh hear yuh wurr huld in such a mannur. I only wish fur yuh tuh lurn, and understund thuh life yuh could have hurr with yur chyuld. Think, wuld yuh have come hurr if I had nut called yuh?"
Knox watches as if from afar. It is strange for him to inhabit the body of his father, to wrestle with the concept that he is, in part, who his father was. He has, then, at last conquered Mandrake. He has become everything she had hoped he would not.
He cannot help but smile inside. And the sensation bubbles up, over, and through, stretching across Roanne's warm features. His golden eyes look down almost fondly to wash over where he believes the features of the mare. Roanne respects her, as he does all natural beasts that walk this earth. It is this respect that he lets slip through his final words to her. "Patiunce and undurstanding, an attempt tuh accept yur place hurr, purhaps a dusire tuh let it becume something more, thut will urn yuh yur freedom, Adruxura." The hunter watches and waits from within, basking in the knowledge he learns each second, passed on from his father. This is perhaps the only way he could reach Adrixaura, the last chance to appeal to her sense of reason. Maybe it doesn't truly exist, maybe Roanne hopes in vain, but he hopes. That is more than Knox would have done, more than he has ever done.
It is a strange and elusive thing, this hope.
[[Not a problem, no blinding it is! Sorry about the wait of a reply, had some muse issues. I apologize for Roanne's heavy accent, and can translate if you need. Mim = miss+m'am = what he calls mares to be polite]]
KNOX and MANHATTAN
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