That had been his pacing as he had spoken to the others in his court , the faces he'd come to known in his short timeframe there . Ones that likely wouldn't be long but were at least someone for now that he could trust to hold things down for a small amount of time if he wasn't there .
The temporary council set into place had nearly lost their minds when he had mentioned he was going to head to Denocte to meet Israfel , alone . He recalls the horror on their faces , and shakes his head a little , leaning down a little to rub a rather large ear against one leg , scratching an itch carefully before lifting back up and shaking himself off . The sand grains dig deep down into even his fur , and its an annoyance he can't quite get rid of . The joys of living in Solterra , he supposes .
A snort , and heavy hooves click and clack on stone as he makes his way through the Denoctian Court , tilting his head just slightly so his good eye can take in what's in front of him , ensuring no obstacles , and keeping a lookout of the place . So far , so good . He isn't scared , but there's no harm in keeping an eye on what could be potential harm . After all , many of the Solterrans had fled here -- he had nearly been one of them -- and he knows all too well the old call of the Day Court .
What they had used to be .
He mulls over his thoughts almost lazily , walking with a confident step into the home of the monarch herself , and through the hallowed halls . His steps were more muffled , and he could hear better than the hub-bub outside . He's certain he makes a sight as he walks into the grand throne chamber itself , scars dotting his body and muzzle, crossing over his right eye , clouding it over , removing its blue glow .
He pauses before the throne , before her and offers a grin that flashes golden canines for a moment .
"I guess I made it in the week timeframe , barely . I'd apologize but I've been a busy man . Gave my council a bit of a heart attack when I told them I was leaving mid-preparation for a Festival and Hunt to come here to have our meeting . "
@Israfel
jesus christ Levi why can't you say HELLO
09-07-2021, 11:29 PM - This post was last modified: 09-07-2021, 11:31 PM by Leviathan
Lucid reverence, floating in your sacred sin
Need your fire against my skin
Cosmic violence, chill's drippin' like acid rain
Keep coming back 'cause it's you I crave
Israfel is busy. There is much to do, and so she relishes the chances that she gets to set her complete and utter focus upon her work without means of distraction.
Distraction is a constant companion, however, typically in the form of a certain two-toned lady. Even when Luvena was not around, the Sun Daughter found her thoughts captivated and ensnared, drawn like a moth to a flame and prone to wandering. It was cumbersome, yes, but a far better feeling than being lost to the dark, dangerous recesses of her own mind. This was healthier. This was promise, and hope.
That being, she was actually getting some gods-damned work done when the doors to her throne room - her throne room, what a weird fucking thought - were unceremoniously pushed open and a large form came ambling in like he owned the place, spouting words without even a proper introduction like she was supposed to know his name.
What an idiot.
The Queen of Denocte’s eyes narrowed, slits of vermilion ire locking upon the brute of a fellow as he strutted in. She hated him immediately. Her stance changed, her chin raised, and the wild, dangerous grin she tossed in his direction promised nothing but threats and danger. Ruby eyes glittered like blood in the firelight of the chamber, and she waited.
The servants and couriers she had been engaging in only seconds before moved to back away, feeling the Night Queen’s ire and not wanting to participate in it, but they did a poor job of hiding their grins of amusement as they tucked back and out of the chamber with a bow to leave the two to speak in peace. They would linger behind closed doors, surely to listen, because the staff of the citadel did so love to chat and gossip and listen.
Silence echoed in the grand chamber. Upon the back of the throne adorned with silks of various colors, glittering like a nightscape of endless possibility, Solaris watches with curious lavender eyes, and the bird gives a small purr of eagerness. She knows.
The Night Queen arches a brow, rose-kissed lips turning upwards in a wry, crooked grin. “I’m sorry; am I supposed to know who you are?”
Introductions, of course, were everything… And Israfel knew who this man was, with the stench of sweat and dust and sand that clung to him like a foreign stink, because Solaris had informed her of his appearance. A shame, then, that a King did not have the forethought to introduce himself before speaking.
What a fucking idiot. Hopefully the King of Solterra would be more useful than he was proving himself to be, otherwise she had no use for him.
She reminds him of the Queens he had once had at his side , the co-rulers that he had once thought he could trust . Political through and through , two that had conspired against him in the end only to upheave him and throw him out the moment he had shown any sort of vulnerable moment , bleeding and broken from a recent fight to try and uphold his throne , their throne and home . She reminds him of their politics and smiles , the wolfish grins and postures .
It's all a game , and he no longer really cares to play , and it truly shows in a way that comes across as entirely apathetic as his grin simmers down .
Her ire does not stir him , does not sway him . He has seen worse , experienced worse . He does not care how much she postures at him , she could come screaming down at him and attempt to strike him down if she so wished and he still would not have the slightest shit to give . She could posture her threats all she wanted , they would not affect him . Danger is nothing to him , no matter the shape it comes in . There is nothing to really affect the one that has stared down gods .
Instead , the Solterran King hums a moment , head tilting to set a gaze on the fiery bird behind her , and then once more on the Queen , blinking just once , as if mulling over her question . " Pardon , did your flying fireball over there lose my response to your inquiry to this meeting ? Or are we attempting to play games ? Because I don't play games , I don't play politics . They're ... boring . But if you'd like to play them , you can always play them with the other Sovereigns . I've heard there's two more now . "
He pauses a moment , leaning his head down and rubbing a little at his muzzle , wrinkling it before lifting it again , staring at her once more . It's all too clear that he doesn't much care at the moment , even from his tone of voice . Monotonous , baritone . Bored.
" But if that's the case , and you're so busy and high and mighty at the moment , I can just go back and we can just stick to our own courts . No skin off my nose , and I'm sure it's none off yours . "
The fact they had even met was a feat no other two Sovereigns had accomplished between their courts , at least . So that was an achievement that no one could ever claim .
Lucid reverence, floating in your sacred sin
Need your fire against my skin
Cosmic violence, chill's drippin' like acid rain
Keep coming back 'cause it's you I crave
His words are obnoxious.
It’s a wonder he even became King, as a man who clearly has no passion.
He speaks as though it is some great tragedy to come here, as though she was the one so encumbered by his presence, as though she was the one who traveled dozens of miles to a foreign land to stand audience with a foreign Sovereign. It was melodramatic, and briefly, Israfel wondered just how long this fool of a man would hold his crown before some petulant young fuck showed up and overthrew him.
Gods knew if he fought like he showed passion, it wouldn’t even be a challenge.
Isra’s vermilion eyes glance back at Solaris throughout the man’s little monotonous tirade, who sat roosting politely upon the back of her throne, very much not on fire at the moment. She cocked a brow, wondering at Leviathan’s statement of ‘flaming fireball’. “Solaris, did you burn up Solterra while you were there?”
Solaris gave a trill, an internal snort. ‘Not a thing, Isra. I never even ignited.’
She chuckled, a rich, deep timbre that echoed in the otherwise empty room. Israfel was not a Queen. She was not a ’lady’. She was a soldier, a Champion of Battle, a Warden, a Regent, a Battlemage, and now a Queen. She fought, and bled, and suffered to get where she was, and she didn’t give a shit about this man’s lack of respect to her. Her arrogant sarcasm and lackadaisical attitude was earned, because she had bled and suffered for the right of it. Gods knew that Israfel had suffered far worse at the hands of an arrogant man, but she would not stand the disrespect towards the Court she ruled.
“Do you run your kingdom with such lackluster disregard, Leviathan?” She asked at last, the question genuinely curious. “I really don’t give a shit, before you answer; I’m just curious. How you run your Court is your own fucking business; gods know you can’t do worse than the fuckers that came before you.” Maybe. Hopefully.
Stepping down from the dias, Israfel grew closer to the scarred brute in her throne room. Her body moved confidently, a casual sashay, that bespoke of years of militaristic prowess and ability. Gilded wings remained folded and tight against her back and shoulders, and while she did not match his imposing height, there was nothing about this man that daunted her. Especially here. Yet even if she stood in his Court, there would be no fear in her breast.
Leviathan hardly seemed the man to instill anything at the moment, other than disappointment. Still, she caught his eye, vermilion depths glittering like rubies, and she chuckled.
“I invited you here to talk. But if you want to measure dicks, we can do that, instead.” She paused, arched a brow, and gave a suggestive twist to her hips in a way no true ‘queen’ would ever dream of doing before going on. “All I ask is that you respect my Court, while you’re here, because I really don’t care if you respect me. It’s been a very long time since the Sovereigns of Day and Night met in one place and had a civil conversation; I was hoping we could start something a little different.”
She thought, briefly, to Luvena. Already she could see the stern disappointment that wrought the woman’s gaunt face, and she sighed. Ruby red eyes focused once more on the brute and she relaxed, and decided to show a bit of honesty here, risking this touch of vulnerability for the betterment of her Court.
“I have been taken advantage of before, Leviathan. I’m… Sorry, if I came off the wrong way, but being defensive is in my nature. I’m very much as hot-headed as my fires, and not knowing anything about you, well… I needed to take precautions, for Denocte, given our Court’s respective history. I wasn’t raised in this courtly bullshit; this is all new to me; I served Novus for years as a soldier, as a Warden, and then some. That is where my ability lies; I’d rather kick something until it stopped moving than try and use a silver tongue I really don’t have. You aren’t the only one who hates ‘playing games’, as you say, but for some reason you mistake my weird form of sincerity for entertainment, for games. But if you don’t want to stand here and talk, like adults, then you can leave.”
There was an arrogance about him that she didn’t like. For someone who was clearly ‘tired’, who came here ‘for the betterment of his court’, there was a pride about him that was self-destructive. They were similar in that regard, it seemed.
“I swear, Leviathan, that while you think this might be a game, I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” Except for Luvena, but this fucker didn’t need to know about her. Not right now.
There's a moment where she speaks to the bird , and idly , he honestly wonders if the metaphor is truly lost on her , or if she's just needling at him again , continuing to play games . An annoyance , certainly , he would at least admit that much if pestered repeatedly to do so . But he says nothing , shows nothing . He misses the days of instead clashing with another body , of feeling nothing but the surge of adrenaline and the beating of hooves on hard ground . The dance of battle and the thunder of their fights . He misses the days where tournaments were king , and his crown was a fever dream that he had chased like a fool .
He blinks when she speaks again , fixing his glowing eye on her almost lazily . " I run my kingdom with the intent of trying to bring it back to life . Not all of us have the grace of having such a lively home , Israfel . Some of us have nothing but sand and the whispers of a broken land because of those that have left it to rot . " His voice is a low tone , but there's a deep truth that resonates there . The only reason he had chased this third time crown in the first place . There was no one else that dared step up to such a haunted position . Who would chase after something so broken ?
His eyes lid lazily , and a hoof cocks upward , resting on the very tip as his massive body gives to rest for a moment , at least temporarily . There is no fear between either of them . As much as she had threatened and postured to him , he gave nothing in turn to her . A true fighter knew when to posture and bare their teeth , though Leviathan had long grown tired of doing it with his own . He only gave what was coming to those that deserved it , without warning .
" I didn't come here for a pissing contest . " The blunt tone falls flat , lips curling just as lazily as the rest of him , and his heavy head shakes a little , mane falling over his scarred face a moment before he tosses it away . There is no give , no budge , not from either of them . The tension could very well be cut with a knife , until something finally gives .
But with one side giving , so too , does the other .
" I've only ever been a fighter myself ; Champion of Battle , or a soldier on the side . All my life , it's all I've done . You've served Novus for years , I've served Novus for a little bit , and my old home for years . I've had crowns , sure , but I've never been alone with them , either . I told you before , I don't do politics . The ones I've had that ruled at my side .. they've turned on me , the ones that were political . Their little games , their posturing , their sly moves ... that's why I don't like them . It's better to just be straightforward , or fight . Either or . I've bled and scrapped and fought for everything I've ever gotten . What I've achieved , what I've gotten , I've earned . " Those shoulders rise and fall , a heavy shrug that rocks his entire dappled body a moment before he snorts just a little bit .
He's certainly tired , but at least some of the tension has broken away , and his posture is still relaxed . He won't be going anywhere , either .
" I'm not here to posture or measure dicks , as hard as it is to believe coming from a Solterran . So , I'm sorry . I'm not used to playing the uh ... royalty thing , here . I haven't done it in a long time , especially on my own . Turns out I'm a lot more of an asshole when I'm the only one in charge I guess and there's no one to temper me . "
Lucid reverence, floating in your sacred sin
Need your fire against my skin
Cosmic violence, chill's drippin' like acid rain
Keep coming back 'cause it's you I crave
Something shifts in the air, and Isra’s tension shifts with it. It does not fade, not entirely, but there is now room within the chamber to actually breathe and relax, without the smoky threat of battle coating their tongues and cloying the atmosphere.
Israfel waits for a few more breaths, watching, her eyes focused upon Leviathan as he speaks… And then she grins. “Well, that makes two of us.”
Clearly neither one of them were exactly good at this sort of thing, playing Kings and Queens when they were anything but, yet Israfel wasn’t’ concerned. She had a plan, should all things go in her favor, of course. Luckily it had nothing to do with this scarred brute standing within Denocte’s throne room.
Arching a brow, she went on. “Maybe we should have a change of atmosphere to talk more about this. Do you like beer or ale, Leviathan? Seamus, one of our local brewers, makes some pretty good shit. I had a few casks delivered to the citadel for this very situation.” No matter his answer, the Sun Daughter had every intention of helping herself to a few cups. She stepped around Leviathan’s bulk form and strode confidently towards the doors of the throne room. Wrenching them open herself, Denocte’s Queen began to lead the way to a much more comfortable sitting room where a cask was already waiting, along with a few empty cups.
Instead of beckoning a servant to pour her cup for her, Israfel did it herself. She motioned for Leviathan to help himself, if he so chose.
“So. We both suck at this whole ‘royalty’ thing, which is fine. I didn’t take Denocte’s throne with the intentions of being a pretty little Queen full of poise and grace. My Court knows what I am, who I am, and we’ve always been a Court full of misfits.” The woman’s crooked, rose-kissed grin was flashed briefly in Leviathan’s direction, the keen glint of vermilion eyes piercing. “It’s good to know that you don’t have the intentions to follow in the same tyrannical steps as the Kings before you. No offense, but Solterra doesn’t really have the best track record.” It was old news, especially if Leviathan was no stranger to the terrible tendencies and luck that always seemed to befall Day anyway. She did not need to preach to him about his own Court’s shortcomings and difficulties.
“I don’t like talking about politics, but that’s what we have to do. Unfortunately. If we weren’t willing to at least try, we wouldn’t have challenged for this title. And, I think we both want to do what’s best for our Courts. Respectively, of course.” Lifting her cup of ale, Isra took a long drink and mulled over her next words. "How do you intend to breathe life back into your kingdom, Leviathan?"
" A change of atmosphere would be welcome . " Denocte's royal hall has more fancy silks and walls than Solterra's , and it has his hairs slightly on end if only because he feels too out of place here . He already misses home and the comfort of rough hewn stone and the Coliseum . " I much prefer mead but ale suffices at a time like this , I would think . "
While he speaks , he turns himself after her , heavy feathered hooves still muffled against such carpeted floors . It's still quiet , but better than the echo of the royal chambers he supposes , as he walks into the sitting room . Here it feels more comfortable , but it's still fancy in a way , and reminds him of an older home , much older . Carved into hot springs and the systems of caves , each one their own room with silks , pillows ... the memory is so violently there in his head he almost stumbles , and he shakes it off with a flick of his head . This isn't the time to lament the past , which is all he seems prone to doing lately .
What the fuck is wrong with him .
He manages to find a comfortable spot , wrenching himself back to the present and pouring a cup of his own , content and his posture as relaxed as it had been in the other room . For someone so battle ready , he holds no tension in his body , but he supposes if he held it all the time , he'd be ready to snap like a beartrap most days .
" No , I know it doesn't . I intend to shed the title of War Court . Solterra is a proud people , but not a bloodthirsty one . We do not jump into war at the simplest provocation . We value our strength and warriors , but it's time we use that to protect our people , and not attack others . I'm rather tired of hearing how we're nothing but warmongers . " He wrinkles his nose , and takes a long pull of the ale , mulling it over and looking down at his cup for a moment , sighing softly . Here , at least , he can be slightly open . " Those before me -- save perhaps Adonai -- used the old image to further their own agenda to be tyrants and take what they wanted . They never wanted to change . So my first intention is to change the court , and hope that it brings life with it . I need to find my people , Israfel . They've been scattered to the winds , all of them . Without its people , a Court is nothing . A court can have a Sovereign , but what is it without its people ? "
He makes a face , wrinkling his scarred maw all the more in annoyance at himself and at the fact there is nothing in Solterra . " I intend to seek out Solterrans , and change the old ways . It doesn't sound like much when I say it out loud , but considering how ingrained the old ways are ... " He snorts . It's a massive undertaking .