You're one microscopic cog
In his catastrophic plan,
In his catastrophic plan,
The Davke man descended like a vision of death — and not an all too handsome version, Velorca noted with a lifted brow. He was certainly a fearsome sight, a stark comparison to the steel, satin and grace of Velorca's own presence... perhaps more suited to their savage Davke ways. Lorca noted the rattling bones, thinking to himself that such a beast would strike fear into any who faced him upon the battlefield.. even on the streets.
His lips curved into an elegant smile, cold but notably engaged with his scarred companion. He sniffed once, analysing the situation... the scent of death that clung to the man like a filthy second skin. It was not unexpected... most Davke had stank of it if you searched hard enough, but this was... more of a warning smell, as if he'd been marred by unclean blood and had never been able to remove it.
"It seems we are not as different as I thought at first glance."
Velorca had to peer up at him, standing considerably shorter despite his long legs and generally above average height. His golden eyes narrowed once more, long silver lashes brushing his razor cheekbones. Waiting.
"I was only three when chased from the Davke for my actions but I do remember you, did your obsession with knowledge exceed the bond of the family?"
His interest was alight, his thoughts turned inward as he rifled through all his early memories — not a task he did often, for the past was not a pleasurable place for Velorca to travel. A colt, chased from his own tribe... for crimes against their own race... it was a story he could remember, though he had had to grasp at many lips to gain it. Lorca cared little for the tone of his Davke brother, staring coolly back at the burning orange eyes, listening rather than offering his own retorts.
"Tell me, brother, did you forget us? Was the call of your blood ignored in the search for something better? What is greater than family? Or were you forced out? I too was forced out at the age of three...forced to leave bathed in blood...but in my opinion, I should have been thanked for the service I was doing the Davke"
The laugh that dropped from his lips wasn't quite right, but it signalled silence, something Velorca responded to with an icy smile.
"So many words brother... So many words and all of Terrastella here to hear them."
His eyes were cold and calculating, his usual level of condescension and disdain lingering behind the supple music of his velveteen voice as he drew closer, quieter..
"I know you..."
A beautiful, gentle laugh pealed from his throat, though his eyes remained cold,
"You did not stink so much back then."
A rough sigh, and Velorca stepped back, curling his lip at the smokey scent that now seemed to want to grasp his own pristine coat.
"No. I did not abandon the Davke — I was taken from them." He gave the man a sharp look before continuing, "By Zolin. A lot of us were. But you should know that — when was it, exactly, that you were thrown out of our tribe, Alaric?"
He spoke the name confidently, revealing his knowledge only when it suited him... when it made him look best.
@Alaric hope it's ok that he knows Alaric's name!! Love these two!
His lips curved into an elegant smile, cold but notably engaged with his scarred companion. He sniffed once, analysing the situation... the scent of death that clung to the man like a filthy second skin. It was not unexpected... most Davke had stank of it if you searched hard enough, but this was... more of a warning smell, as if he'd been marred by unclean blood and had never been able to remove it.
"It seems we are not as different as I thought at first glance."
Velorca had to peer up at him, standing considerably shorter despite his long legs and generally above average height. His golden eyes narrowed once more, long silver lashes brushing his razor cheekbones. Waiting.
"I was only three when chased from the Davke for my actions but I do remember you, did your obsession with knowledge exceed the bond of the family?"
His interest was alight, his thoughts turned inward as he rifled through all his early memories — not a task he did often, for the past was not a pleasurable place for Velorca to travel. A colt, chased from his own tribe... for crimes against their own race... it was a story he could remember, though he had had to grasp at many lips to gain it. Lorca cared little for the tone of his Davke brother, staring coolly back at the burning orange eyes, listening rather than offering his own retorts.
"Tell me, brother, did you forget us? Was the call of your blood ignored in the search for something better? What is greater than family? Or were you forced out? I too was forced out at the age of three...forced to leave bathed in blood...but in my opinion, I should have been thanked for the service I was doing the Davke"
The laugh that dropped from his lips wasn't quite right, but it signalled silence, something Velorca responded to with an icy smile.
"So many words brother... So many words and all of Terrastella here to hear them."
His eyes were cold and calculating, his usual level of condescension and disdain lingering behind the supple music of his velveteen voice as he drew closer, quieter..
"I know you..."
A beautiful, gentle laugh pealed from his throat, though his eyes remained cold,
"You did not stink so much back then."
A rough sigh, and Velorca stepped back, curling his lip at the smokey scent that now seemed to want to grasp his own pristine coat.
"No. I did not abandon the Davke — I was taken from them." He gave the man a sharp look before continuing, "By Zolin. A lot of us were. But you should know that — when was it, exactly, that you were thrown out of our tribe, Alaric?"
He spoke the name confidently, revealing his knowledge only when it suited him... when it made him look best.
@Alaric hope it's ok that he knows Alaric's name!! Love these two!
