With the heat-obscured silhouette of Solterra's stronghold just beyond the horizon, a subtle taste of bitterness began to flourish upon Avdotya's tongue. Every passing day seemed to draw further malignance to her wandering mind and it pushed the woman to become even more of the phantom she had grown to be in Capitol's hall- the dusty old walls were more akin to a rusted cage than they ever were a lavish home. It had taken her months to realize the displeasure in her wild heart, taken the death of a freshly-crowned sovereign to awaken her and snap the viper free of her blind pursuit of power. Now, in the wake of Maxence's demise, Avdotya saw her foolishness. A seat in the regime, while stitched with authority, meant little when there always remained a need to think of a nation. Truly, the woman did not care if her actions carried consequence for those unable to bear them... their weakness would hold no value to Solis and his realm. She was not prepared to cater to the whims of a people she (for the most part) held a distaste for- and she certainly did not wish to dabble in the pacification of thin-skinned kings and queens for their well-being. Let chaos descend upon the courts. Avdotya would be the first to feed the flame. For now, however, she kept her descension veiled. She required the aid of Velorca to spread word of her intentions to the right ears before she loosed the ancient might of the Davke upon Solterra once more. Of course, to do that, she first had to track him down... and for all Avdotya knew, he was off warming the bed of some witless warrior. @velorca it ain't pretty but it's somethin!! |
 VELORCA
While he preferred the stroke of Solis' sunlight, Velorca had to admit he looked equally devastating underneath Calligo's shadows and stars. The moonlight hugged his sleek body, tracing fingers of the finest silver along his spine even as the shadows fought to leak from every crevice he passed. It was not often the snake of Solterra left his chambers after midnight, he was usually entangled within the limbs of the finer specimens of his country, golden eyes burning up the skin of his companion. In fact, he had been entwined with a particularly aggressive Solterran soldier — but that encounter had been brief... and cold. Afterward, the man had leered at him and tossed a single coin to the silk sheets. Velorca had simply watched him leave through cruel, cold eyes, silent and damning. There would be a reckoning for all the wrongs that had been committed against him and his people — he would shed their blood himself when the time came, and he had a few particularly unsavoury ideas reserved for the worst of them. He had a list. Alas, his empty bed had led him into the moonlight and then further again into the desert home that whispered along his ribcage always. The hiss of desert sand was his lullaby, the scorching heat a kiss. It was this that he hadn't been able to leave, when the fall of Zolin had finally come. Lorca didn't like to reminisce about that night, though he often thought about the slow burble of crimson that had ended it all — and the woman that had made it rain red. Avdotya. As if the thought of her name had summoned her, she appeared as a savage silhouette upon the dunes, unmistakeable and sharp. He watched her for a long moment, burnt butter eyes glowing against the navy sky. Avdotya was as close to a leader as the Davke could hope for, though her support for Maxence had grated upon Lorca's silver skin for as long as the Commander had been in charge. He had been a somewhat charismatic ruler, judging by the loyalty he had summoned in such a short space of time. Lorca scoffed, a cruel smile curling his smoky lips at the memory of Maxences demise — hilarious, that he should be flown away like a worm by the deserts beasts. Smiling still, Velorca closed the distance between himself and the fierce woman he so devoutly pledged himself to. He had no loyalty but Davke loyalty to give. His long lashed eyes watched her keenly, the gleam of intelligence hidden beneath the beauty of his razor boned face as he drawled sensually; "Avdotya... out for a stroll?" @Avdotya love love love their two personalities together haha
VELORCA
He watched every savage line of her as she glared out at the desert, each angle sharper than the last, the sharpest of all being her bright yellow eyes, gleaming through the darkness. He watched the golden glare with a cool vanity, his own gaze lingering on the slaughtered creature upon her back, remembering... "Have your lovers bored you already?" Lorca smirked, tossing his silk straight hair with a curled lip — almost every lover bored him, they were all void of anything that might have gotten his golden veins pumping, all with boring, plaid histories that started with a mama and papa and ended with them joining Solterra because they thought they were fighters. Velorca didn't bother to explain what made a true fighter, or dredge up the idea that they were serving a Court founded on murder and slavery. He was about to say as much when she turned to him, those savage eyes cold and serious. His smirk died at the expression, full lips pressing together as she admitted that she had been looking for him. His own gaze flicked around them swiftly, though he was confident he had not been followed — nobody cared that a whore was out of his bed in the middle of the night, and Velorca had skills of his own that he rarely shared. Had someone been following him they would have swiftly found themselves alone and staring at the dust. Velorca narrowed his golden eyes at her next words, careful and quiet. She took a step closer, looking small against his height but terribly strong and agile. Lorca felt the words more than heard them, a tingle running over his silver flesh and sinking into his marrow. The Davke rebirth is nigh. His keen eyes flashed, honing in on her own sharp gaze as he asked; "You have truly renounced this Court?" Velorca stared at the princess he had silently followed for so many years, his faith never faltering or failing despite her recent dabbles with the King of their enemy. He was a ruined man, had been a warrior, slave, spy, whore, sage... his right to a life had been stolen along with his youth, his virginity, his honour — and he was bitter and burning for a righteous revenge. "You have my aid... my Queen." @Avdotya !!
VELORCA
The smile she gave was one he vowed to see again, and again, and again — until she sat on the throne... until it was a smirk of triumph. It faded in moments, but Velorca had already memorised it, gilded it within the golden halls of his vast mind. "We must find any remaining Davke that still walk these dunes. There are bound to be some left from the cull." Velorca bared his bone white teeth, the word cull sliding cold hands down his spine — those were their families they spoke about, culled like livestock. Funny that the Davke had been labeled vicious and violent, when the Solterran Army had murdered children... when they'd committed crimes even worse than that.Worse. A flick of his silken locks had the grim thoughts safely back in their blackened box, the golden chains in his hair glinting under the cold desert stars. He released a slow breath, settling his gaze upon Avdotya like two burning coals. "I know of few within the walls — enough..." he glanced sharply back toward the Keep, then returned his long lashed gaze to his Queen, "... but not an Army." They had been all but wiped out, only a few now remained. Yet all had their skills, their Davke pride and ferocity... a more than capable squad. Kingdoms had fallen under less — but not Solterran Kingdoms. He peered at Avdotya again, cool eyes assessing as they shifted and lingered on the scars marring her slick skin. His own scars whispered at the sight, wounds within himself that had stayed fresh and weeping while his beautiful exterior remained pristine — they had both suffered at the hands of Zolin, and the pain the old King had created hadn't died with their tormentor. "I will find the remaining Davke and bring them to you." A promise, a purr through the night. He didn't speak it, but he would also begin collecting his poisons and researching ancient ways to assist their cause — the relic of tempus, he recalled, belonged to a seer of Dawn. An object of such power could be useful... he tucked the thought away slyly, already running scenarios through his mind. He would mention it to Avdotya after he had uncovered more Davke, perhaps would ask permission to thieve the relic himself. Magic would be nice, immortality even nicer. Lorca turned his head back toward the Keep, then glanced at his Queen once more, dipping his angular head in respect (a rare gift, one not often performed) murmuring "No matter the odds, I'll fight. For the Davke... for you." @Avdotya bloop what lorca ya loser
VELORCA
Beyond their own kind? It was an idea he had not thought would fall from her scarred lips, though admittedly a conclusion he had come to a long time ago — the Davke were diminished, a dying breed. Civilisations had been lost to the same fate by refusing to accept the outside world, refusing to evolve. He did not intend to let the Davke go the same way. The remainder of their conversation was brief, straightforward — as if Avdotya could be anything else. Lorca simply gave a nod of his silver head and watched her leave, turning after a moment to tread swiftly back to his chambers. He would not sleep — his task would begin immediately. @Avdotya lorc out!
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