BLESSED BY A BITCH FROM A BASTARD SEED pleasure to meet you, prepare to bleed
The sound of screams, guttural, terrified, otherworldly, are what bring Teiran to attention. Smoke begins to blanket to the skies above the court, and the screaming is coming from inside the walls. They have come for a reckoning, and it is like every bit of humanity bleeds from her in the wake of this knowing. It flees her body as if running from a hellhound and instead something else settles into place. Something cold and sharp and deadly. She draws a dagger, holding it just beside her cheek. Her lips peel back to expose her teeth, and she looks like she’s laughing but she is a wolf in warning. It is chaos around her but she is calm, the eye of the storm and she is ready to unleash it all upon them.
She will bring them down.
Her pounding hooves kick up sand wherever she goes, and she is watching from the shadows, waiting to pounce upon their backs. She turns the corner and there is a child crying, alone. Abandoned. A shadow rises up behind it and Teiran flings the dagger, knowing her precision is spot on. It misses by a hair. The Davke turns to her and she is all but inviting him to dance with her, to play her game. He takes the bait eagerly, and his attention turns away from the child. She knows they will not live. There is no hope for them in these alleyways. But she has gotten her fight. Perhaps the foal will hide.
The Davke underestimates her for her size. She can see it in the gleam of his bloodthirsty eyes, in the twist of his crooked, malicious grin. He thinks this will be easy, he thinks she is delicate and weak but he does not pay enough attention to the chips of ice in her sage green eyes. Her court is under siege and if she knows one thing it is that this is what she was trained for, stolen away from the streets as a filly and reared to efficiently dispose of any who would dare enter these walls and wreak havoc within. They have come, they have come with fire burning in their chests and darkness in their eyes and she will streak the streets in their blood and it does not phase her at all.
He underestimates her and he should not, because she easily dances around the man who comes to face her down, eyes like hard silver and a coat like hot desert nights. He watches her but he does not see her. He is power and severity but she is wickedness and poised like a cornered snake. When he lunges for her, she ducks beneath his chin and pirouettes and she plunges a spear through the space between the Davke’s ribs. The glittering of his eyes gives way to surprise and to pain, his screams a muffled echo among the robotic thoughts inside her head. If he survives, he will not underestimate her again, that much she knows. She tugs the spear unceremoniously from his body, hefting it with her tele as she turned back to the fray.
Her thoughts are lightning, automated; protect, guard, fight.
Kill.
She knows they will take whoever they can down with them, kicking, dragging them down into hell. They do not care who they kill, but she does. She darts through the streets with grace, around the bodies of the fallen, some of which she might recognize if she could see beyond the red painting her gaze, the vignette darkening everything outside her focus. If they are still alive she does not stop to look, if they are dead then there is nothing she can do for them anyway. Her job is to stop the Davke from doing more damage, for the world is on fire, burning, burning away and they are a disease spreading over it.
Teiran will purge them from the court with their own lifeblood if that is what it takes.
Nicasia heard the vicious call, felt it deep in the dark pits of her heart. But not from the desert where the ghosts of a once powerful herd haunted. It was from the sandstone cage that was the main city of Solterra where the blood of another horse still coated the sandy fur as she skulked among the shadows. There in the darkness she hesitated, recognising the voice that danced dangerously on the breeze. There had been a time where Nicasia had tried to rally the Davke but to no avail for she was neither her half-sister nor her mother and without them the barbaric sand horses would not congregate. That old pit in Nicasia’s heart yawned open, wide, threatening to consume her as she allowed the feelings of inadequacy to swallow. Minutes went by as Nicasia paced an empty corridor, safe from prying eyes who might connect her to the dead noble in the next room, debating whether to heed Avodtya’s call. And then the screams started. Anguish, pain, victory and anger all entwined in a symphony that rattled the very foundations of the Solterra. And Nicasia felt it in her blood, the excitement, the lust for battle like fire burning away the insecurity she once again buried. A nasty, blood thirsty smile lights up her face, hidden beneath the saber-tooth mask. Today she would stain the streets with her victims. But there would be one who had to die first.
It took only minutes to prowl among the shadows, a beast in the darkness, before she arrived at a grand house. The fighting had not reached here yet, the owner likely cowering among his splendour like the coward he was. Nicasia wasted no time with hiding this time, marching right up to the gates where two guards jolted into action, shock passing their slightly anxious faces. She dispatched them swiftly, slicing open the first’s neck with the tooth of her mask whilst dodging the attack of the second. He then fell like his companion, blood gushing hot and thick upon the sandy floor. She did not gloat, did not spare them a second glance as she slammed open the towering doors. This time the assassin did not skulk in the black, did not use the shadows to conceal her. No, she called out, called out to the client who had once tried to take advantage of her and blackmail her. She had barely escaped capture when she’d refused his advances and now she had come back to return the favour. “Submit or die!” She roared, the very words he’d spoken to her all those months ago. It echoed around the cavernous halls, reaching him wherever he was cowering. She hoped he was shaking in his hooves.
…
Blood dripped down her chest, staining her lips and nose as Nicasia stalked from the shadows of the mansion, her blood lust heightened as the screams now permeated the quiet at the edge of the city. It wasn’t long before Nicasia joined them, her vicious shouts of battle in time to the beat of the others. Nicasia was obviously Davke, from the sandy hues of her coat that blended with the tawny buildings to the tiger skull tied to her face. Many a Solterran guard fell before her as she searched for her brethren among the chaos.
Notes::- Attack and injury is welcome, so long as its not permanent. Interaction with either Davke or Solterra Citizens would be fab!
The smell of iron hung hot and thick as the burning air crackled around them; it was death's telltale stench and Avdotya could not help but stop to indulge herself in a deep breath of it. She inhaled greedily, savouring the metallic taste it left lingering on her tongue while she quietly noted the outline of a shadow skulking out of the corner of her eye. A hero come to save the day, the viper thought with a smirk... but she did not offer acknowledgment. She let him believe he was slick, let him have his moment of foolish courage in the middle of a room painted red with his compatriots' blood. His, too, would soon spill to the floor.
Avdotya drew one last breath before she spun on her heels to meet her attacker, intercepting him as he lunged forward with teeth bared. She met those pearly whites of his with the cracked edge of her hoof, forcing them to shatter from his mouth and the boy to crumple to the floor. He was young, she could tell simply by the way he cowered at her feet with lips bloodied and eyes wet with tears. The world would be better off without weaklings like him, but it would not be Avdotya that delivered him to the reaper on this day. Instead, she placed her hoof heavy upon his cheek and whispered into his ear: "You would do best to stay on this floor until the screams have stopped."
A voice in the back of her mind chided her for her mercy, but when she looked into his widened eyes it was not a Day Court child she saw, but rather the faces of Davke children that once looked up at the same fate. Cold as she was, Avdotya would not stoop so low as to end such a young life without valid reason.
- - - - - - -
With the room far behind her, she finally found herself sifting through a sea of burnt rubble. Hours had passed and most of the violence ceased, leaving bodies in its wake and an eerie silence along with them. It blanketed all of Solterra's capitol, leaving a short lull before the viper presumed the head-hunt would begin. This was the time to lead what remained of her people back to the safety of the Mors and she didn't hesitate to gather them and be on their way - and not without what goods they could all handle. Much of it was valuables belonging to nobility, pieces of jewelry or treasures that could be sold off to merchants to sustain the horde for some time... enough to return them to the ghost-like presence they were known for.
And so, like that, the Davke disappeared on the horizon just as quickly as they had come. Now though... now they finally had their vengeance, and it left Avdotya with a satisfied smile as she glanced over her shoulder at the carnage they left behind.
You’re playing my game now-- @NOVUS!
i am terrible and fell so behind with work, so gonna close this up with everything that is going on now! feel free to toss up exit posts. <3
