Every step the savage woman took seemed to emanate power; they were strong, they had purpose. Each one brought her closer to the taste of revenge she so wildly desired upon her tongue, and somewhere out past the reaches of the Mors, it awaited her. She smiled at the thought, imagining its sweetness as the Davke stormed back from destruction and reclaimed their place as a force to be feared. How pleased would Solis be to see his true children returned to him after having been so brutally ripped away from existence… and now more than ever did Avdotya seek to appease him.
Ah, yes, she’d already made her assumptions about the peculiar encounter she had in the desert, and the Sun God was the only sensical answer. Those waters left more than a dampness to her hide when she slipped from their smooth caress; like the dust it had so easily washed away, that crystalline pool shed Avdotya’s bones of the wear time had strewn within them. She felt rejuvenated, and now she would bask in the glory of her god-given immortality.
By the time the viper reached Vitae, her hide was nearly dry, but that did not stop her from sunning herself alongside a palm that towered over the oasis. She lay with her legs tucked neatly and her head held high, those fiery eyes now lidded with utter bliss while the warm wind played at her messy hair. Her plans were coming together smoothly and not a soul within Day knew what was to come, even Solis himself awarded her his approval- what more could she want?
Where a goddess from another world holds winter's chill in an intimate grasp, Solis bathes his desert kingdom in sundrops of gold. A stormsinger is a shadow that dances across those same sands; the burnished heat turning each fleck into glitter that shines into her eyes. For she could not be further from the embrace of her beloved goddess, as she travels not only farther from her home, but at the high noon of daybreak. The sun above is a sphere of fire that dribbles in heated bliss. Although the stars have long since fallen asleep, her comfort lies in the dark of her skin — for she knows, knows without a shred of doubt, that Calligo holds her close as she ventured farther into the Mors. The hooves that strike the sand beneath her is the roaring thunder in her heart, her soul. Each inhale is the churning of hurricanes, and every exhale is breathing carnage and havoc in its wake.
Her power is an untouched gift; straining at the bit of her self-control with a wildness befitting of her and her alone.
Not once did the stormsinger think she would return to the land made parched under a ruthless sun, and a god that burns his kin. She remembers how the frost dared not kiss the earth that slides beneath her hooves, and the hidden treasures within each swell of sand. Only once, was she brave — or foolish — enough to breach her northern borders. Then, she had been under the cover of a starry night, deep in the blanket of Calligo's grasp. This day.. this day was a completely different story.
Now, she has come with purpose.
As she crests the dunes and sweeps into the haven at the valley's center, Aislinn is a storm swirling in ash and dust. The dark silk of her skin sizzles with the lightning that strains to burst from her flesh; to electrify the pearly waters of the oasis. At the heart of lush greenery — a gem, in such a vile place — lays the woman she seeks. Or rather, her means to an end. She would be too reckless to have traveled so far to not know the face of the woman who's hand once served right under the nose of the Commander King. Maxence. But he was not her, truly. For she still laid under the swelter of Solis's sun, soaking in each drop of gold that landed on her skin. And he.. he was buried somewhere in the endless red sands; the bones of his painted body picked clean. A forgotten memory.
The stormsinger could barely contain her scoff as she stops, a cloud of dust swirling around the ivory of her legs. Slowly, she exhales, and with it, she blinks back the surge of tsunamis that build in her lungs. The storm in her is barely contained as she looks upon the viper. For as her eyes lands upon her, they are no longer blue sapphires, rival to precious stones..
But flames that scorn, as she marks the face of the Davke Queen with a vengeance that sings war cries in her blood. Her lips curl then; wicked and lovely, chaos and bruises.
She could almost swear that what little shadows were born from the sun above slithered closer to her still as she spoke: "Viper."
She reveled in Solis’ heat, absorbing every ounce of it with her black hide that soon glistened with sweat. While many would retreat to Vitae’s crystal waters for relief, Avdotya simply endured it; she had been born under the intensity of the blazing sun, a creature built not only to tolerate it, but to thrive beneath it, and there was little she could not handle. Perhaps that very fact explained the look of satisfaction upon her sharp-edged face, among the many other things that were running through her mind.
Her peace, however, was not meant to be, for the distant sound of shifting sands soon caught the woman’s attention. An idle ear spun slowly towards it, casual as ever in its rotation while her side swelled with the air she inhaled. Her breath was deeper, intentionally so… no longer did the air hold its earthy, desert aroma, but instead it was laced with a dark perfume, a taint entangled in what was once perfection. By the growing strength, its bearer was bound to be close.
And then she was there.
”Viper,” came her snarling voice. Avdotya need not open her eyes to know the sour look that her newfound company wore, yet the lid of her left eye peeled apart to reveal its smoldering gaze. She recognized her instantly, but even a Night Court Champion did little to kindle a flame beneath her. The Regent did not move, having given pause to allow the silence to grow thick between them until she finally indulged her in something of a response. ”Ah,” she murmured, ”Calligo’s stormsinger in the flesh.” Not a moment after the last syllable left her toxic tongue, Avdotya rose to her hooves, but it was not to meet the vehement Dencotian nose-to-nose… instead, she leaned downward into a nonchalant stretch, a kick of dirt to her guest's face, so to say.
Once she had loosened her muscles appropriately (and hopefully gritted some nerves ), the viper finally turned to acknowledge Aislinn. ”To what do I owe the grace of your presence?” Her tone was its typical, lackluster self. She knew that this was no amiable get-together; Aislinn was here for a reason that she presumed held no warm wishes, and that was exactly what Avdotya hoped for. It had been a long while since she last had some decent entertainment.
Every drop of sunlight was a star swallowed in the black hole of her skin, as the stormsinger stood in a kingdom bathed in sand and bloodshed. Before the viper queen, the silence that grows between them is a galaxy thick with the sweat on her neck and the sand that shifts beneath her. She is still a star, a constellation, and her goddess's hurricane in the heart of an enemy court. Before an enemy queen. She would not forget such things; even as the woman before her basked in the damn sunlight, with no more than a flicker of an ear in her direction. As if Aislinn herself was nothing but a pesky horse fly, and not the chosen champion of not only Reichenbach, but the Night goddess in turn.
If only the viper knew of the power that sizzled beneath the dark of her skin and crackled deep in the marrow of her bones.
Ah, Calligo's stormsinger in the flesh.
Aislinn watches her with a gaze like blue fires; the only part of her that burned with a heat befitting of the scorched earth at her feet. Slowly, her orbs follow the viper as she stretches and stands, noting every ounce of movement. Her nostrils flare at the kick of dust that breathes from the woman's stretch downwards, nonchalant and blunt. The beast of the stormsinger's anger growls, as her own snarl rises in her throat. Unspoken. She could only scoff inwardly, her muscles coiling tightly. Tense. Aching for bruises and blind fury.
To what do I owe the grace of your presence?
The corner of her lip curls — wicked, knowing. Her purpose in this hell washes over her in memories of autumn and mud and torn knuckles. So many months ago, she had met him. Yet, although she did not know his name, her prize had been won nonetheless. Even now, Aislinn could still hear the sounds of the mud sucking onto the gossamer of his coat, marring him of his beauty. The thin scar running the length of her cheek was a welcome flash of pain as she remembered his teeth ripping free the blood from her veins. But it was the lightning that she remembered most fondly, and how in the heart of a storm, she had sent her opponent into the swamp at their feet. Even now, amidst the sand that swirls around her ankles and the heat that chokes the air from her lungs, Aislinn can still hear his voice. She can still hear the arrogance, the anger, and could still see the molten amber of his gaze through the billows of violet skies and sheets of rain.
His voice finds her now, and with it, comes a wave of satisfaction brighter than her goddess's stars. I said. Fuck. Off.
Aislinn's brow quirks. Straight to the point, then. Her gaze blinks, long and slow, biding her time. The words that drip from her lips are thick, like droplets of poison onto an open wound. But they had never tasted so sweet on her tongue. She could not help but smile cruelly. "One of your snakes owes me... information, you see." A muscle in her upper lip twitches violently; her self control wavering, building, swirling. Her temper is churning — a cyclone of emotion that raged far inside her. Down to the core of her. At this rate, she would crack, as the beast of her power strains harder still.
Not yet.. not yet.
A kiss of hot air knots the shining starlight of her mane where the strands are collected into a thick military braid down her neck. The stormsinger licks her lips, before her smile widened into a soundless snarl. She did not balk as she met the viper's piercing gaze with her own as she says: "I've come to collect."
@avdotya ooooh boy
@velorca mentioned <3
References this battle!
"Aislinn speech."
Aislinn's storm was met with Avdotya's undying obstinacy. She did not yield to the winds or the driving rain, to the damning thunder and wild lightning strikes... this woman was no different than any other fool who walked into Solis' desert with swagger in their hips; the devilish god would surely break those very hips if she wasn't careful, and the viper would be a willing consul if given the chance. A smile nearly found her lips at the thought, but its spark was doused by Aislinn's declaration.
"I've come to collect."
What once would have been a smile had turned into a mocking chuckle, its sound reaching out to caress the stormsinger with a thick veil of contempt. "You walk into a nest of serpents seeking compensation?" She shook her refined head, almost as if she were scolding Aislinn for her folly. Any deal one made with a Solterran was fickle at best, but a promise made by a snake to a Night Court denizen? To a Champion of Calligo's wretched court? Avdotya nearly laughed again. "You are a fool." She sneered, stepping closer to deliver her words like a sharp-edged blade to directly to the gut.
Whatever information Aislinn thought she was owed was destined to be nothing more than a well-weaved web of lies; spoon-fed falsehoods for her to run home with and wait until the perfect moment came to divulge them. She was better off strangling the deal's counterpart while she still held an edge to their throat.
"But by all means," Avdotya finally relented, backing off and relieving her senses of Night's stench, "pursue your shred of knowledge... seek it out until Solis swallows you whole." The viper pushed, massaging her fingers into the volatility of Aislinn's core. She wanted her to snap, she wanted the fabled stormsinger of Denocte to lose grip of her temper and let it loose where a tempest could not thrive.
The desert would wring her hurricane to dry among those ceaseless dunes, reducing its roar to but a quiet whimper.
She is a tempest of whirlwinds and stormstruck eyes under Solis' thumb. The wilds of her storm is an uncharted sea chomping against the bit of her self-control. She need only hum, or whisper, or murmur a note in the far reaches of her throat to unleash the hell of her rage. But she does not; no, Aislinn only stands like a statue of ink and moonstone beneath an unforgiving sun. Her orbs do not waver from Avdotya, but instead hone into narrowed slits. The scoff that plays at her lips is all but breathed into the ash and dust that swirls around them both.
The building symphony of her power swirls; its waves crashing in intimate pleas to be free, to wreck havoc on this woman before her. Calligo's shadows grow long under her brother's light; reaching towards her daughter in tender fingers. Show her, a voice croons, like a teasing breeze of ocean air. Show her who you are. And as if in answer, her mane is tossed by the desert's winds in a phantom caress, a push. A tug on the chain of her control pulls at her heart, her lungs. Oh, how she does wish to let herself become brutally undone. Her wrath is the violet billows of a bruised sky, and her fury is the lightning that strikes without abandon.
What she would give to drown the smirk off of the viper's face with the waves of her hurricane.
You walk into a nest of serpents seeking compensation?
"I am not afraid of snakes," she spits. Her gaze is the only warmth of her; all blue fires and steel and daggers that dare not look away from the woman's own.
You are a fool.
Her anger rises, swallowing the sun bathing her skin like the black hole Calligo had designed her to be. The skies mirror her spiking rage; clouds of grey mar the sun of his swelter, rushing towards where they stand in the heart of the oasis. A rough wind tosses the braid running down her neck, loosening the strands intricately bound there. The feral beast of her power screams, yanking on the silver chains that is her self-control. She holds it barely, mastering it, despite the sweet temptation of letting her hurricane be unbound from where it is caged just beneath the surface of her skin. Her violence strains as her muscles constrict in anticipation; the cracking of white knuckles and split, bloodied lips. Show her.
By all means, pursue your shred knowledge.. seek it out until Solis swallows you whole.
The stormsinger refuses to be eclipsed by the sun god's viper queen. That one muscle above her lip twitches, tightening, and she nearly cracks. She can almost swear that Calligo's fingers wrap around her in this hell of scorched earth and buried bones. The clouds darken at the flare of her rage, but for a moment, before her muscles loosen. Not a single rain drop falls from the heavens above. No.. nothing at all. Her release is the calm breeze after a tsunami; the lapping of seas on a shore. A welcome cool that kisses the heat that beads in sweat upon the ebony of her skin. Her goddess cradles her as the storm inside her growls.
Aislinn steps towards her, closing what little distance separated them. Like hell would she allow her to walk away so easily.
The stormsinger only leans forward, just barely, just enough, as her smile curls wider. She could almost share breath with the serpent woman standing before her. Her voice is a soft whisper, flat and lethal. "You are not worth the storm," she lilts, tasting each word that graces her lips, "and neither is the snake I have come to find."
She exhales, the breath hard and quick through her nostrils. A silent dismissal; craning her neck backwards with a step laid between them. Laughter bubbles in her throat, amused, as she squints upwards to the now cloudless sky. Aislinn only shakes her crown, before turning halfway to return from whence she came. But not before she muses, "I hope you're not afraid of the dark."
@avdotya eeep ash tries to be a badass :P
"Aislinn speech."
She breathed in the electric air with intense greed, absorbing every ounce of energy as it danced wildly around them. The viper could almost feel Aislinn's temper beginning to flare and it left an essence of smug pleasure emanating from her being. It spawned a dangerous smile upon her velvet lips, growing more and more as the mare denounced the serpents she was encroaching upon. Good, she thought to herself, ignorance makes for an easy target. An though Avdotya would have loved to be the one to bring Denocte's infamous stormsinger down a peg or two, now was not the time; she had bigger plans ahead that she need not risk injury for, plans that she hoped would someday reach Denocte's borders. Until then, Aislinn was but a small fish in a very large pond.
Nevertheless, there was little to stop her from toying with the Champion's volatile mind, and it seemed - for a moment - that she was doing just that. She could feel the wind as it tousled her mane and caressed her skin; she could see the light being consumed by cloud, threatening to bring rain to a land that hadn't seen precipitation in months. Once again Avdotya smiled, meeting Aislinn's gaze with the fiery burn of her own while she whispered the the desert beneath their feet.
Few knew of the viper's budding command over the earth, but she was more than pleased to share it with the one who compelled the sky. Thus, as Aislinn's powers sparked, Avdotya's began to coil and slither to life. It reached for the stormsinger's fetlocks, the sand itself seeking to sheathe and constrict around her lower leg while it writhed beneath them... but just as she had released her hold over the heavens, the desert too lost its brief breath of life and collapsed into a small mass of sand at their feet.
Like that, the tension had all but vanished, left behind with nothing more than a snide remark that dribbled from Aislinn's lips and curtailed their run-in. At best, the regent was disappointed- she wanted more, she wanted the storm but only got a taste. It would do for now.
"I hope you're not afraid of the dark."
And so the pair bid their adieus with the spitting of lexical venom. "No," Avdotya replied insipidly, "I welcome it." She very much looked forward to their next encounter.
The unholy sands caresses the sweat sticking to the dark of her skin, biting her, and entwining with the ivory of her braid. She drinks in Solis’ sunlight, desperate to swallow his flames, to douse his swelter with Calligo’s sweet darkness. Her tempest has been bound, carefully folded in waves of bruised clouds and sea spray within the cage of her. Already, her lips are parched — craving the taste of Davke blood on her tongue, of her blood spilled onto the sands that swirl around dark ankles. She stands with her back half-turned on the viper queen, a weather eye upon her enemy. Her target. The goddess damn her if she did not want to unleash the hell of her fury upon this woman.. but yet, her storm would not thrive. Although her rage would burn.
She was not worth it.. not yet.
No.. I welcome it.
A fool. In the moments the sky had begun to darken, bruised and purple with her anger, Aislinn had not failed to notice one thing. That the sands beneath where they had stood breathed, as much a living snake that stands before her. The desert had shifted, moving, unreal, just as much a curse to her kingdom as the storm in her had become a blessing. She had tried to hide the furrow of her brow, the quirk of knowing in copper lips. In the end, her journey here had not been wasted — for it would seem that the debt has been paid after all.
And oh, what a fool the queen would be if she stepped too willingly into Calligo’s terrifying dark. Her steps dance upon the sands, a single flaming orb lazily finding the viper as she walks away. But not before she croons: "Step into the dark if you dare — but if Calligo does not drown you, I will." Then, she is a shadow crossing the sands; a whisper of a promise that brings lightning and storm and wrath eternal. May we meet again.
@avdotya eeep -mike drop- Ash is out! Thank you so much for the thread <3 I can’t wait for them to meet again xD
"Aislinn speech."
