[AW] Desert Tempest

[Jarek]

JAREK -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We are the frayed, we are the torn We are the beaten and the scorned And now you’ve forced the beast to bare its teeth -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Grains of sand were lifted by the breeze whipping the dry earth. The plains had been dealing with the grasp of winter. The liquid and life of the vegetation had been stripped out. As such it crunched beneath enormous hooves.  Squeezing his eyes closed tightly to prevent the whirling sand from invading his crevices. There was evidence of life in this plain. Hoofprints, and scents wild and enticing.  He had finally arrived. These were the lands that the olden gods had whispered to him about before the firelight.  Their shadows had danced and shivered promising power and elevation to the stars. Their excitement and hunger was palpable. A hunger that had seeded itself in his flesh, he could feel it gnawing and brewing within. It was all motivation for a greater cause, they would require his strength to gain hold in this new world. Their hunger had been rolling deep within, but their voices had been frighteningly absent on his long walk.  They were merely sleeping, biding their time. He knew this discovery should please them; stir them from their slumber.  He took massive lungfuls of the air, tasting it in its purity. There were bound to be resources here that were not present within the city. Evidence of wildlife flourishing and tracks of all kinds could be seen in the dirt.  He could see their paths intertwining in places and diverting in others. The other burning need within him was for water. Traveling had not been kind to his hydration with the scarcity of the precious liquid.  He was a large beast who burnt a lot of resources with movement.  The scent of rain on the horizon and a cool change drew a soft and relieved sigh from his lips.  Cool drops of water soon pelted his back. He opened his mouth accepting the life nourishing liquid, following the trails of the animals in hopes of finding a larger water source. He needed to cool off and he needed a lot more water than a few drops on his tongue.  Even appropriately prepared for war and travel his mane and tail felt gritty with sand and perspiration. It would all need redoing.  His tail had been docked short, with a small thick growth of hair at the end. His mane had been bundled up into small tight buns that lined his large arching neck. He was an intimidating sight to be sure. Small drops of rain settled in the rock formations that littered his pelt. Scattered rock fragments glistened against his deep midnight coloured coat like stars in the night sky.

[Fever]

rip and smash through the hornet's nest

do you understand I deserve the best?

but you'll do what I want, do what i please

and do it again til I get what I Need

Homesick: a nauseous and tumultuous storm of emotion brewing in the cauldron of Fever's stomach. Carefully concealed, this strange sea-sickness had been festering for some time. For a year, at least, she had made her home on the outskirts, living like a rat in the shadows, patiently abiding her time for her return Solterra. Winter was to begin to thaw, and thus, like a child who followed the sun, she would begin her descent.

The rains came; first a mist, followed by fat and frigid drops that would dance along the woman's abstract spine. Each touch of water on her delicate, mottled skin was an angry indicator to reach the desert quicker. The plan was simple: stay alive and return home. She moved like liquid at an extended trot that would have allowed her to travel for days. A long tail snaked lengths behind her, sinuous and thick, a black pennant to play in the brisk wind.

Abruptly, she came to a halt as the twinkle of stagnant water caught her attention. A small pond, edges muddied with a slush of clinging snow and clay silt. The viper would part a sea of starlings, they would flock and fly away as she moved closer to the over-glorified puddle. Fever would approach the mirror not to drink, but to admire herself.

Black and gold eyes stared back at herself in thought, but she wouldn’t be able to indulge in herself for long.

She wasn’t alone.

She could smell the beast before she saw them – sweat and rain on his coat, a foreign musk that indicated he was a stallion from lands she was unfamiliar with. A single spotted ear would swivel in his direction, listening to his heavy footsteps crush the brittle earth. With a coy peek over her shoulder, she would finally observe him.

A black golem – stygian crystals adhered to his night-colored skin, a face curved like the bow of a crescent moon, a tidy series of buns fingering the strong crest of his neck. The viper’s first assumption was initially a warrior, with a cropped tail and ice for eyes; Fever didn’t know why else he would be adorned with thick slabs of muscle if not for the slaying of his enemies.

Her eyes narrowed into daggers as she scrutinized him. She should have been born a warrior.

Alas, she was a mere street dancer.

Just a lowly, simple, harmless street dancer.

A simper wickedly curled up her black lips underneath her mask. She would force her body to relax, her neck curled into an inviting arch, peering at him through a feminine flutter of dark lashes. Her voice would leave her throat like smoke and nectar.

“Hello stranger.”

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@Jarek

[Jarek]

JAREK -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We are the frayed, we are the torn We are the beaten and the scorned And now you’ve forced the beast to bare its teeth -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was something primal brewing in the desert. As fundamental and essential as the building blocks of life. It broke down in its simplest parts to raw compatibility. To unspoken promises of fertility and company. He could taste her scent on the raindrops. It was thrilling. He put aside the internal hunger of his gods and focused for the moment on more personal endeavors. There was no need for elaborate deception as that came naturally with the territory of pursuing such creatures.  It was unwise to become enthralled in desire. The creatures mostly didn’t know what they wanted anyway. In particular those of the womanly sort. Those with soft and welcoming features were no different.  He had never allowed himself to fall in deep emotionally. For that would make him vulnerable, it was simply easier to let them all believe that you held them close. While enjoying the benefits of their company of course.  All the better if they doted upon his needs. He did offer them physical protection and his company of course as well. Those who were wise skirted their own emotional boundaries whilst in his company.  He turned his hulking body towards the source of the scent. His ice blue eyes were met with those of startling amber. He held the gaze, letting the warmth of his strength bleed through. Keeping his ears firmly pointed forwards he focused his attention squarely on her. He softly sighed and inhaled again. He allowed himself to stand in the rain, it did not bother him. It was running down his sides relieving itching and sweat from his journey. This moment he could freeze and savor. It was simple but it was satisfying. There was an imminent pursuit ahead of him, he was relatively comfortable. This was the most enjoyable moment he had experienced in many days.  “Good evening, stranger” he replied with his gravelly voice. Husky, and strong, one would expect it from such a form. In truth his voice had been scarred, no one was truly born with a voice of that nature. Shouting and inhaling dust for the better part of his life hadn’t helped. He allowed himself a few steps to close the distance between them. “This sure is a ravishing view to enjoy with a drink.” he added coyly with a soft chuckle. OOC: <3

[Fever]

rip and smash through the hornet's nest

do you understand I deserve the best?

but you'll do what I want, do what i please

and do it again til I get what I Need

The speckled viper would watch with unwavering attention, analyzing, studying the golem. She could appreciate the subtle glitter of his crystalline mutations, reminiscent to her, wondering if they were perhaps crafted from haematite, or maybe an alien composition from worlds she was unaware of? Alas, she couldn't be bothered to ask. Art was never to be questioned - just appreciated. Fever would do just that, lean back and admire how well he was carved, the hidden shimmy of bulging muscles underneath taut, wet skin. 

Admire was an odd word, uncanny in this sense, because the way Fever looked at this stranger was less adulation - the heat of her stare was not an applause, but an afterthought of a rumbling stomach and dry tongue. She stared at him with hunger, as primal and wild as she herself. Deliciously, she would run her tongue over her teeth, savoring the thought of what his kiss would taste like after she split his lip open with her fist. 

After a prolonged blink, she would turn her face away, deciding to side-step out of his path so that he may approach the pond and quench his thirst. At the sound of his voice, an amused simper would curl up her lips, an invisible brow lifting at his intentions. "I promise you, it is much more spectacular a view in the heat of the sun." Summer would be a daydream, warm like her voice, a wish that would go unanswered as the cold rain continued to tap-dance on her body, mocking her pitiful wishes for relief. 

"Do you plan on telling me your name? Or are we playing a game of secrets?" 

The viper threw a sideways glance to him, a playful smirk inviting him to join in this conversation - the idea of a game twinkling in the gilt of her eyes. Fever had a passion for games. She was eager to work him like putty in her hands, build him up, potentially shape him into something she could use in the future if ever needed. Alas, her selfishness would be hidden under a guise of butterfly lashes and carefully placed giggles. 

Having played the part many times, she was a natural at convincing them she was a clueless woman, lost in her travels, charming, but simple-minded.

Bait.

 @Jarek

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[Jarek]

Jarek

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Here behind the curtain lies a darkness feeding

Pooled inside, in hunger cries, and still it's eating

Everything I had to hide is all on my sleeve

And behind the curtain lies my soul, I’m bleeding

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“I am certain when the sun shines brightly it is….enrapturing.” he said, raising one eyebrow smirking, maintaining eye contact with the vixen. Icy blue eyes glimmering mischievously.  Pushing his heavy frame step by step towards the water, neck bowed in an arch showing his might and stature. The rain drops broke as they hit his hide and trickled down his coat. He longed for the embrace of the sun on his obsidian coat, how well he absorbed the warmth. For now the sensation of removing the dirt and sweat from his body would be adequate. He was accustomed to the biting warmth of eternal summer surrounded by shifting sands. 


“Oh, there is definitely some kind of game afoot.” he said softly in a gravelly voice. He let the answer hang in the air as he bent to sip at the refreshing water. “How would you know if I was telling you the truth, I could be anyone.” he asked, not lifting his head from the water and continuing to drink. This indeed would be the game they would play. He could feel the invitation in her voice, this was not his first dance at this game. But first, he would take his time to replenish the water reserves in his body. They had no rush, or anywhere else to be. 


He stopped drinking, having drunk his fill. He turned his body towards her smoothly, regarding her directly now with piercing shining sapphire eyes. He was certain there were game's afoot. No one else would sashay their way to his company and batter their eyelids in such a way without intent. “Are you lost, poor creature?”He teased, rasping his gravelly voice.  Taking smooth steps to aim to close the distance between them. He could almost taste her scent upon the water drops. Enticing and fiery. This was sure to be entertaining. If she wanted to play games, they would play games.

image by:https://giphy.com/Allyouneediswall

[Fever]

rip and smash through the hornet's nest

do you understand I deserve the best?

but you'll do what I want, do what i please

and do it again til I get what I Need

Enrapturing. Every compliment that has ever been spoken to Fever is kept, wrapped up like a gift truffle, tucked away in a box and saved for a time when she would need to feel something: beautiful, lovely, gorgeous, and now enrapturing to add to her collection. While they were treasured and much appreciated, one day, all those words would feel weightless – after you’ve heard something your entire life it becomes meaningless. How long could she savor the admiration of her surface features? When would she hunger for something more? Today they sufficed.

The minx wonders if her great-grandmothers and their mothers before them ever turned down compliments. These concubines of a mad King – was their beauty a blessing, sparing them a harsh life? Or perhaps it was a curse to feel so caged, so confined to being only known for the way their skins prettily attached to their flesh?

Maybe that was why Fever is the way she is – their mistakes in revelry would turn into instinct instilled into her.   

She still chose to revel in it.

With a tilt of her head, she would rip her gaze away from the stallion, to admire her own reflection.

“I care little if you hide the truth. It won’t matter to me either way. In fact, I believe I’ve given you the gift of choice. You can choose who you want me to see.” Pauses, aloof, her gaze returning to Jarek, like a game roulette and she is now sliding the gun to him. “What power –“ she would muse.

With enunciation on each word, she would repeat his sentiment. “You could be anyone you wanted.” A knife of a smile, yet she sheathes it as he closes the distance between them. She would allow him closer, curling into a doll-like stance, but would not take her eyes off him. He could still be a threat. She had yet to determine his place in her web. “Yes, lost: A lamb looking for a shepherd. A kitten seeking shelter. A butterfly in search of the right flower.”

@Jarek

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[Jarek]

Jarek

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Here behind the curtain lies a darkness feeding

Pooled inside, in hunger cries, and still it's eating

Everything I had to hide is all on my sleeve

And behind the curtain lies my soul, I’m bleeding

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He softly hummed in deep thought at her comments. He smiled, not breaking his gaze from her. “This is the choice we all make each day, we each have the power within us to become whatever it is we desire. Some paths are simply easier than others.” his voice raspy and graveled. His mind ebbed and flipped over his own plans, as he gladly accepted the roulette gun from the mysterious mare. His driving motivation for trekking to Novus had been to rebuild his life in a place more beautiful and accepting. He however would not kowtow to anyone, false gods or kings alike. He dreamed of a world that revolved around a traditional herd structure. He could provide that safety and warmth. All while having games such as these!

“The desert gods teach humble acceptance and protection of those who need it. My dear I was born a shepherd, now I seek a flock.” his icy blue eyes intense with mischievousness. He accepted that simply dragging herd members together wouldn’t achieve what he sought. The mare before him was clearly playing the game along with him, even if there was perhaps some truth to the charade. It was this spark and intelligence that would be valuable. 

“I am Jarek, Have you found on this earth what your soul truly desires?” he asked softly, his tone spiced with desire. His ears pointed towards her, focusing for a glimpse of genuine reaction. He felt like there was always a deeper level to each creature. It took care and attention to find the ripple when one struck the chords just right. His skill at communicating only grew further with practice. It had not been so long ago that he fumbled and stumbled with his words. 

Jarek envisioned himself to be the pillar of the community he sought to grow. To support them each to grow and flourish around him. To draw them together. 

image by:https://giphy.com/Allyouneediswall

[Fever]

rip and smash through the hornet's nest

do you understand I deserve the best?

but you'll do what I want, do what i please

and do it again til I get what I Need

Off in the distance, angry clouds gathered at the horizon, dark and foreboding, a promise of freezing rain. You could smell the cold in the air – it mingled with the sweat and testosterone that radiated off of Jarek’s swarthy skin. Fever could enjoy a downpour; she revealed in summer storms, when the wind is hot and sticky as it kisses your neck – when stepping in the rain was both a relief and a burden. There were fond memories associated with those sweltering and humid rainfalls. 

But this winter drizzle was only further agitating Fever. She would stand, wet and frigid, trying to conceal her shivers but failing miserably. Each freckle of rain sent a quiver across her mottled flesh. While usually patient, this weather wasn’t doing Fever any favors, and she could feel herself eager to get to the point.

Fever was not built for this weather.

As she listened to the tall and shadowy stranger continue his plight, an amused scoff would emerge from her. It was only at the mention of the gods did her eyes slide back over to him, smiling, a chuckle soon to crescendo into a black-hearted laughter that would warm her bones.

If she had hands, she would have been wiping away the tears from her giggling fit. “I don’t give a damn what the Gods say,” she’d sigh quietly. “Spare me your lectures. Your Gods would spit on me, just like mine has.” With a curious tilt of her knife-like head, her jovial and communal demeanor swiftly metamorphized into a brief grimace of pain, and then shape-shifted once more into an unintelligible, cold expression.

When it comes to desires, Fever was unsure what she wanted – she knew she was determined to find her mother and break necks while she was at – but other than that, she was simply an enigma, a tumultuous emotion manifested, a hungry and gluttonous wraith, open-mouthed for anything that would temporarily satiate her.

But Fever was insatiable. She’d always want more of everything.

“Jarek, I have yet to find anyone who is able to satisfy my desires.” She turns her body towards him, the play in her words intentional, head confidently high as she bridges the gap between them – she wishes to come closer, almost chest to chest, curious if he would find himself tail-tucked and meek in comparison. Her chin tils up to him, aurum eyes narrowing in a frame of black, long lashes. “You wouldn’t be the first, Jarek, who’s come to me with fickle promises. And if it pleases you, we can pretend that I’m interested in whatever diminutive and dull whimsies you can offer me.”

The viper breathes out, hoping her breath tickles the stallion’s jawline. “I don’t wish for a bed and board, or protection from the wild – I am more than capable of taking care of myself. If you can’t tell, I’m thriving. The only thing you could offer me is temporary bliss – “she pauses, dramatically bending her neck to peek at his underside, before realigning herself with his path of sight. “And even then, I’m not quite sure you are equipped with the right tools for the job.”

A swat of her tail and a devious smirk crawling on that shameless face as she plays with fire.

“My name is Fever, and I am so eager to hear what you think I desire.”

@Jarek

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[Jarek]

Jarek

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Here behind the curtain lies a darkness feeding

Pooled inside, in hunger cries, and still it's eating

Everything I had to hide is all on my sleeve

And behind the curtain lies my soul, I’m bleeding

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He listened to her speech, glistening blue eyes focused intently. At her slurring insults at the gods he chuckled.  Letting the comments slide, her religious opinions honestly were the least of his worries. If she didn’t believe, he wasn’t going to open her mouth and shovel it in. She wouldn’t appreciate it, and it wouldn’t work. 


He kept his eye contact and didn’t flinch, he let her finish her little tirade. It was obvious now that she was interested in playing other games. A clever wench after all, knew more than one trick. And so her mask slipped, and glimpses of her true struggles could be seen. 

“Ah and so the serpent bares its fangs,” he said with a soft voice directed at her. He was not intimidated by her show of bravado. “Those who you’ve had before me, those who you will have after me, are none of my concern.” he said with a soft chuckle. He stood with his neck arched, his eyes and mind focused on her. He felt intensely invested now to see this little charade through. 

“The secret dear is this.” He said with a chuckle before continuing “Life is nothing but temporary bliss, you curse yourself to unhappiness by seeking anything else. All there is, is the moment.” The interaction had taken a turn for the serious. Her attitude had riled a response within him. Whether it was exactly what she was seeking, was yet to be seen.

“Take the mask of Fever, and maybe then you’ll know what you truly desire.” He didn't break his intense eye contact, he would not be intimidated by her. The continuous trickle of cold rain down his sides was making him irritable. What was once a fun game had started to turn into a serious conversation. 

“I suspect what you desire is a continuous flow of meaningless distraction, that you can use to propel your sense of worth above those that are around you. That you focus on the shallow flesh, and miss out on an emotional connection.” his booming laughter echoed, he couldn’t wait until she responded. It was now her turn with the gun.

image by:https://giphy.com/Allyouneediswall

[Fever]

rip and smash through the hornet's nest

do you understand I deserve the best?

but you'll do what I want, do what i please

and do it again til I get what I Need

Yes, serpent is accurate – but she had yet to bare her fangs.

Fever was simply toying with her food.

Every word that falls out of Jarek’s mouth is carefully analyzed, she is studying him, trying to decipher if he is worth her time. She’s already factored that he is a titan of a stallion, towering over most, dwarfing her in height and sheer muscle mass. 

Gosh, if he really wanted to crush her, he could have by now. But he chose not to – why?

“Those I’ve had before you, and after you? Jarek, are you assuming I’ll have you?” she asks in feigned naivety, flashing him a charming smile as she throws his own words back to him, insinuating that he wished to have her. "I'm flattered."

And she would continue to listen as the rain fall increases horrendously, as if the skies raged at their conversation, the heavens themselves forbidding their conversation. Fever listens to his secret, his key to life, and an invisible brow raises. She can’t help but quirk her refined head slightly, bemusement settling on her face before evaporating into nothing intelligible. 

Underneath a prolonged blink, she rolled her eyes. He asks her to take off the mask, as if it was only the mask the guarded the fortress of her heart and headspace – as if she hadn’t spent her entire life erecting walls in order to protect herself.

Fever was a labyrinth of savage emotions, wild whims and conflicting forces; her depths were unfathomable, and only an idiot would dare tread these waters. The only benefit she offered was being conveniently wrapped up in a pretty package. She very seldom offered anything beyond the surface – her tactical mind and sharp tongue were her own weapons, and she didn’t wish to be wielded. 

At the announcement of his speculations, Fever stifled her smirk, biting down on the inside of her lip, careful to conceal her devious simper. She blinked away the raindrops of her lashes, feeling them fall down the curve of her cheekbones like tears. 

It had been years since she cried.

She’d look up to him, quiet, stewing on what she was choosing to say to him. Jarek had just said that the secret of life was temporary bliss, that living in the moment was the only happiness worth pursuing – Fever would agree with that sentiment as she was a hedonist, the pursuit of pleasure and happiness was all she chose to seek – but she thought he had contradicted himself by saying all she was after meaningless distraction.  And maybe a sliver of him was right - not about the distractions, but the needing for emotional connection. She missed her mother with an ache that she'd never share with another stranger. Temper was always on her mind. And if he could snap his finger and materialize Temper out of thin air, then sure, Fever would kiss his feet and do whatever he wanted for the rest of his life.

It was a shame he couldn't.

Fever’s jaw tensed, her gaze purposefully falling to the ground, suddenly bashful under his stare, her ears drooping slightly in defeat. With a tender sigh, she prepares to give her best performance yet.

“Wow, Jarek," her voice is soft lies, hushed and maiden-like in nature. "You’ve impressed me, you’ve figured me out. Maybe I really am just a lost lamb looking for bonding. You seem wise, so tell me, what should I do next?”

Depending on his answer, perhaps she would be wise to listen to the sky and seek shelter away from him, end their conversation while her neck remained in tact. Give him the satisfaction of being top dog as he slaps his words of wisdom on her and then she would be on her way - maybe Solis was finally trying to look out for his little sunspot.

It didn’t matter, Fever was always one to tempt the fates.

@Jarek

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