<<theseBLOODshot/eyes/>>

[[ISO]lde]

It was disconcerting just how swiftly a situation was given to change, and now my own existance seemed far more cliche than at last census. Finding the typical activity - mulling - far too disheartening at present I had struck, abandoning the designated constraints of the "homeland". A place you find no comfort in. What a joke. It so happened that these less remarkable thoughts saw fit to meander through the gears of my mind, harboring the complacent chortles of something uneffected by time, space or feeling. And in the department of feeling, the regretably aching sensation still haunting the recently mutilating region of my withers. Crimson had dried, now forming maroon bits and pieces within tufted pelt. Coal flints struck the composition in a lazy, haphazard fashion. Far from feeling bullet proof, apathy coated my every move. A dazed sort of disinterest in the universe for the present. I had grown exhausted from the ramblings previously stated and at this point was in no humor to be consorting with anything less the Moon itself. Oculus were slanted, slinking cautiously over the veneer of the radius, glacial in temperature at the present juncture. However glazed they were, they would never seek to abandon that frigid, defiant aura that made them eternal in itself.

Rage seared my innards, boiling and cooling only for my thought process to circle back around. Reheating the lava and making me seethe anew. Each and every motion was an utterance of poise, grace and the distinct feminine that coiled about me. But no longer perfect. I breathed a heady sigh at that thought. It was clear - this new scaring about my withers - that I capacitated flaws. The internal ones had always been, and now the outward ones could be seen....now that they existed. Those impressions of enamel were the sole ones though and somehow I lusted for further harm. Further mutilation. To be less beautiful. I despised the physical aspect of myself, this tease I comprehended myself as. Lobes were pressed moodily to their crafted ducts, bodice coming to dormance in this strange compass though a brow had ascended there was not external display of curiosity. Only the discord of being free from Apollo's boundaries. In that right I was certain to suffer. That only promised further scarring - so tell me where the downside is. My nostrils fluttered as I expelled spent atoms, the tiny particles pluming about my muzzle. Ebony tendrils hung limp over the side of my serpentine, rustling only occasional with the gust of each blast of zephyr.

So what? What was the creature who tamed this piece of crap dirt going to say about my presence? Kick and scream? Please. I could submit such a greeting. Drool on me a little? Hmmm, my captor would not be pleased to find another's scent upon me so let us hope a female sees fit to draw near. Otherwise there would be a brawl. Between who cannot be known but Apollo would not be pleased. And for a moment I very nearly wished I cared. Pity. Lids fluttered daintily over the abyssal spheres that glittered as they encompassed the scape, calculatively sweeping the surroundings. Trees. That was boring. Why wasn't their some sort of cliff or muddy swamp where death seemed eminent. That was somewhere worth traversing. But no, I was stuck within the ruddy treeline. Yet another cliche. Oh wait, that was the universe. Cliche. And new animosity flooded the exquisite soul that I laid claim to. Each and every thin strand of sinew was taut with the preparation of attack, or the necessity to dispel this quickly growing frustration with anything and everything that saw fit to exist in this general vicinity. It was clear beyond doubt that hostility danced within my every breathe, coating my exhale and laboring my inhale. Ah but that's okay. Anyone who sought me clearly sought blood. And if that was necessary I'd spill some...but not without collecting on the debt, kittens. Fair is fair. And sharing is caring.

[BLITZKRIEG //]

The usually cynical expression ingrained within the mismatched lenses toted by the caliph was decidedly absent; it appeared the monotonous routine of primitive distrust and loathing had grown in themselves tiring. It was an ancient practice, using these misused emotions to scorn the world at whole. Hah. Even the fools of old had defined flaws.

Indifference was the preference reigning supreme upon the façade of the doom at present. It bespoke impassivity and uncaring for the populace and its entirety. But had emotions not always been decidedly absent among the barren plains of his supposed soul? Decapitated shards, remnants of an aged destruction, plagued the unmoving organ of steel that resided, omnipresent, within his torso. Its shriveled skeleton lay crumpled, a sealed chamber of limitless proportions; and but one held residence here.

The quad of svelte pinions that hoisted his impressive embodiment adopted a languid swagger – what need was there to rush? The exterior of his sculpted physique rippled with splendor, each muscle in its taught and supple prime. The iron extensions pinned stubbornly to the end of each lithe extremity trod gracefully upon the sable lithosphere, appearing almost as liquid onyx. The genteel waltz they performed was effortless and mobile.

Halting maneuvers brought the baron to stillness, erect malarkies gyrating atop their elected post. Velveteen vents dilated, identifying an unknown host among the shadows of his estate. The origin was classified as thestral. Royalty, to be precise. A skeptical ascension of the brow was evident upon the attractive veneer of the dane.

{ Isolde. }

[[ISO]lde]

A pleasant, almost vindictave sneer stretched my labrums into a placid - quite wane - expression. This might contrast the fervor the dwelt within me but that was neither here nor there. This creature would suffer for simply breathing in such proximity let alone speaking. That was all that mattered to be frank. A soft chuckle routed itself in my throat and I smirkedafter the fact. The genteel fashion to which this mongrel conducted himself coaxed an entertained expression - well aren't you pretty? It was was similar to a ballerina. My nostrils quivered, taking deep breaths and feeling out the way he smelled..Commiting it to memory. I was not the sort to be social. But then I was also no one to do anything half way. If I was to be termed "royal". My brows creased as he pronounced the double point of my epithet. Was it just me or did word travel quickly? What business was it of his who Apollo had taken? A frown darkened my brow and I looked him over with an air of disdain.

"Forgive me." A cold expression was endowed him. "I didn't care enough to find out your name. I finished with a placid sneer. It was an almost depressing thought - he had nothing better to do than to investigate the lives of others. What a pitiful existance. The exquisite concave of my skull ascended as something akin to a snarl escaped was endowed this maggot. A brow ascended while I glowered at him. You pitiful creature. You poor sad disconsolate soul. You deserve to rot this way you know. You deserve it. And I had brought this for you. This little gift. My beautiful monster. He was going to come for you, you insect. I relished in the idea of his demise, the thoughts conflicting between the morbid ebony of the vultures circling his mangled corpse and the crimson pooled around it. At that moment I almost missed the topaz demon back in thestral terra. My muzzle twitched with annoyance at the concept of such emotion. I was ashamed at the swift attachment. A growl served the purpose of my vocal system. You just have no idea do you?I focused my contempt upon this being - not my own pitiful self.

[BLITZKRIEG //]

A leer festering infinitely with loathing routed a grotesque infestation upon the handsome veneer of the beast. Another arrogant, heartless bitch – just another slut trying to make it big in Vegas. Well aren’t you cute, thinking you’re just the damn thing among all us others? Truth is, you’re just another parasite, an infestation who he’ll decapitate and befoul, the animated corpse from which he’ll rip the carrion and hoist it into the flaming sky. Oh, what a delectable feast the crows will prey upon tonight.

Scornful optical appraisal was granted to the feminine – it, the worm, the parasitical infestation, as our boy now knew the dame. The delicate feminine tone to the patchwork hide was examined with a disdainful, near mirthful air. This was the fragile structure who would seek his destruction, was hell-bent on his annihilation? A grating hiss. { Pitiful. Just another delicate architectural wonder whose beams I’ll strike down, whose divine, angelic façade I’ll destroy with mere infinitesimal strength. }

Malice was outwardly reflected, seething within each tapered enamel hunkering along the length of his powerfully endowed jowl. { Well aren’t you just the hot shit? } Abhorrence was refracted as with the dancing hues of the multi-toned horizon within the glinting orifices of the hessian. { Ignorance always was a dreadful trait among you, the whores of power. } Elegantly curved serpentine snaked forth briefly to complete his inspection.

{ Truth is, you’re just another whore, a pitiful little ballerina whose tutu was long ago drenched. }

A maniacal chortle.

{ Ready to dance, lovely girl? }

[[ISO]lde]

This was very nearly always the case. Drooling over something obviously out of your reach. And the best defense? To pretend you don't desire it. To pretend it is the very thing you despise most. When the real thing you can't seem to stomach is your pathetic self. Because you are pathetic aren't you Dreadknott? No one wants you. Where is your shining slut? Still aching from the last round? Pouting around somewhere because you see fit to rake my figure with your gaze and not hers? A lobe twitched as the insults flew and a malevolent sneer crept over the outermost seams of my aperture, oculus filling with mirth that only Apollo had witnessed before now. A pedestrian slut am I? Because all sluts are beautiful. All sluts are scornful. All sluts treat you like the dirt you are? Clearly I'm lusting. Clearly that is the reason I'm here - this petite little whore wants you bad. What a delusional quack you are. My zenith ascended and I smirked down my features at him, forelock falling elegantly to the side as my nostrils fluttered. Observing the fashion to which his clumsily presented nape bore his features forth, the entirety of my front proportions ascended in something that could be termed as a short lunge. Melarkies slipped to crash among the woven locks at my crest and I stared with laughing eyes.

My own enamel clapped behind the velvet lappets of coal and I remained silent for but a moment more. Cherish this, your briefest seconds of false hope. False security. Your superiority complex is infinitesimal in comparison to the hostilities you provoke. To be frank my pet, if all you can bring are words you are more pathetic than I first believed. Poor dear. A brow ascended as I exhaled and then...it began. "Is shit generally what you partake in? And what hypocrisy. Speaking of ignorance as if you are immune when as far as is evident you are the crown king of fools. Your stupidity is rivaled only by your lack of originality in conversation. And how quaint that you would play dress up - tell me. Does the lady of the land divulge in such fantasies with you? Tutus was it? I imagine you look quite fashionable in pink. Or possibly a pale yellow. As far as my own tutu I found it far too constraining. I suggest you find a cup for yours. You will need it if you have any intention of continuing this conversation. Otherwise be on your way, get to work on straining to savor what idle thoughts you do possess." I paused and my smirk widened as a hollow laugh elicited itself from within my throat.

My serpentine had grown level with my spinal column, a device of strategic design while I stared vacantly at him for a second before continuing. "Dance? Does the king serve as queen as well? You dance in your tutu? I'm certain you're breathtaking - assuming you dance more fluently than you speak." I suppose you weren't expecting that. It was a slap on the wrist. You haven't provoked ugliness yet. But dear watch where you tread. I tolerate very little, and because you are vermin I tolerate even less.

[BLITZKRIEG //]

{ Ooh, well aren't you just the hardcore shit. } Cold mockery interwove with the velveteen syllables, finely curved acoustics gyrating marginally. { Is that the only thing circulating in that arrogant little mind of yours? Perhaps I was mistaken; I assumed you more capable, holding such a title as you do. Perhaps you're just Apollo's pawn. } Laughter. { So foolish of you to believe that, what, you've somehow triumphed and came to rise above the rest of civilization? You've spun such an intricate little web of lies to yourself, you've somehow come to believe it. And yet here you stand, pathetic even still. And you realize that, otherwise you wouldn't be attempting to make yourself feel better by provoking another so pointlessly. } Mismatched orifices glinted with a sort of manic glee, revolving within their individual sockets with each new bout of insane giggles.

{ Spitting insults that are completely irrelevant to both circumstance and opposer. You humor me even now. But is this an escape attempt I see? The little slutfuck is afraid of retaliation! } Chiseled cerebrum was tossed aloft, svelte audials grazing the grim skyline. { You're even more pathetic than you attempt to portray me. What are you here for, might I inquire? To spew your shit while your ever-powerful manslut ignores you in the face of his numerous other whorish delights? It's absolutely comical! }

Hellish delight plagued the disturbing chortles that slithered forth from the doom's respiratory. He was overjoyed to be in the company of one such as her, one who could provide endless mirth when attempting in vain to defend oneself; so absolutely ridiculous it was, so downright pathetic and yet so very amusing.

{ But now, I wouldn't assume you completely full of shit and absent completely of action! } The taunt rang forth in his now accustomed sarcastic melody.

[[ISO]lde]

It was quickly becoming obvious that this ignorant fool's vocabulary revolved around the base of profanity, and for lack of better terminology his nouns tended to be composed only of such. More than that, he could not keep the flippant giggling from bubbling out his snout if he tried. I could practically scent the small bites of snot flying in my general direction and found myself readily repulsed. The pelt at my withers ticked with the desire to step away from this filth. After all, he reeked of insanity and desperation. Grasping at the thought that I had granted him power over what most would call my self confidence when truly this fly on the wall was my court jester. My voice was soft now, malicious and taunting...nothing short of seething venom. "How self righteous are you that you've assumed all this and that I drink in your words like a dog from a bowl. To what end is this device? These meager attempts to get under my skin when the only thing that you truly have is clearly not within your grasp - even now." Naturally I spoke of his own precious queen. I had become more and more familiar with the woodland creatures and their gossip as i had grow well versed in the passages of the copse. Meandering among the density to avoid bothersome souls who I would rather not find myself in leagues with. It was utterly shocking that he still had failed to invoke violence. When all my Lord need to was lift a hark and I was upon edge. Perhaps one would call that chemistry.

My voice struck out once again, poised and deliciously preening the decibels in a pristine fashion untouched by the pitiful verbals manifested by the belligerent duke. Oh poor dear. "As far as my role at home goes what Apollo does in his spare moments is his own business. I'm not sure how involved you are with your own ladies in waiting but I imagine you enjoy keeping tabs. As it is a masculine defect to find such tracking a necessity. A pawn of his seems highly doubtful as it were since I am here not upon his bidding. Perhaps you need further schooling on the meaning of the term." At this point I "tsk"ed him softly, zenith swaying waywardly in a humored fashion. He was becoming hostile and all I could do was maintain my composure - though my gaze had already filled with demeaning mirth. "Why am I here? What a silly question. But I suppose you can only be expected to capacitate so much before you lose what you would define as wit - but we females would find that humorous naturally. I'm here because I wished to see if the lord of this land was a dog beneath befriending. And as it were he is." My serpentine craned and I peered at him through delicately sculpted eyelashes. "A dog beneath all things intelligible and even the fleas that riddle his flesh." It was whispered with a chuckle ravaging the syllables.

A brow ascended at his next supposition. What vanity you possess. I come here only to torment you. Easing lazily in his general direction, the fluidity of movement distinguishable in comparison to say....said dog. A serpent I was, creeping through the underbrush with that frigid expression affixed on the next victim of my restlessness. "And as most impeccably stupid creatures you assume much while knowing little. Quaint, is it not?" Obsidian oculus glittered with malevolent pleasure in the concept of this soul's undoing. How I would love to watch you crumble. Already I despise you. Without really a care to know what makes you so utterly comical and sad. You're just a fleabag. A pest ridden carcass whose predestination must have been a joke. You are here to entertain the intelligent, and to serve as an example to all those who think themselves truly stupid. Clearly if they do not match your standards they cannot be. "You truly are a magnificent specimen. Such idiocy really should not go without recognition. I hope your lady speaks highly of such skill in the subject of making yourself look truly foolish. You're the jester - nothing more than a joke. And you think that your scattered, sloppy phrases pose a threat to me? Truly though it is your desire to crawl beneath my skin with such things you attempt the impossible. There are many definitions of stupid proof. And you've just stumbled upon one of them. In all seriousness, my shit is valued more highly than your very life. So direct your insults to someone who cares. So there.

[BLITZKRIEG //]

{ Oh, but now you play not only an idiotic fool, but a hypocrite as well! What do you do but strut across my lands with your dirty little vagina on display, and to what, attempt to torment the landlord? You must have much time on your hands. All out of fake friends to fuck, and put to no use, as you are, in essence, worthless. But perhaps it makes you feel of worth when you are put to use as a dandy little prostitute. Does it, now? } Handsome facade snaked forth to observe the circular movements the thing wove about him. Thing. Was there any other descriptive word? It was below all living, below even the mites that immersed themselves in its detestable hide.
-
{ Your attempted insults are of great amusement to me, I must say. I can see why Apollo keeps you prisoner within his lands; you perform the lovely duty of jester to the king! So very hungry for power are you that you ascend the position only to amuse. }
-
Foreblades glided smoothly underneath the rows of marching flesh banding his abdomen, lithe embodiment uptaking a stance directly in front of the said 'queen'. A misused word here. Damn, and he'd thought Apollo could do better. Silly of him. But then, when this was the representation of his race, it proved only the previous assumptions: fleabags infesting the outlands they clung to as termites to their filthy mound. Despicable, she.
-
{ But you are proving yourself of little intelligence, doll; you merely spit back at me the insults I laid before you. And, mind you, a dog is higher than you, as are the worms that slither unbidden through your detestable carcass. I mean really, are you not able to formulate sensible insults? What a truly horrid representation of your race! } The entire situation only beckoned forth more mirth of the insane hue.
-
{ You waste a great deal of time, little dancer. Are you afraid to battle me? I do detest cowards. Perhaps you'd feel better under the supervision of your master, with him pulling your sad little puppet strings. Do you need Apollo's permission for everything? Perhaps I was wrong in assuming you were an independent entity with an individual mind. } He banked steeply, coming to halt directly in front of the said heiress. The previously ignored challenge was presented forthright once more.

[A P O L L O //]

.x.

Powerful extensions manoeuvred effortlessly, propelling a magnificent bulk through the dreary landscape, slivers of gold briefly visible between the overgrown timbers. Thick muscles coiled and unfurled as the beastly creature slipped through the shadows, a twisted sneer creeping to his black lips. The thestral king had entered the darklings domain, fearless and confident, he was thoughtlessly invading their personal space. Invading Dreadknot’s empire. Neatly crafted acoustics swivelled in response to the faintest rustlings before folding beneath the abundant mass of creamy tendrils lacing his chiselled attic.

Iron like flints crushed the withering foliage beneath Apollo’s mass, his pace slow as he sauntered in a dangerously relaxed fashion through this unknown territory. Naturally arched serpentine became level with his spinal column, his faintly roman profile falling slightly from its summit so that the czar could adopt a more predatory posture. Salmon tinted nasals quivered as he inhaled the precious oxygen steadily, his queen’s familiar aroma teasing his senses, among other things. Isolde was lingering within the vicinity, mercilessly toying with Dreadknot’s tender, childish mind. A haunting chuckle escaped the baron’s clenched enamels as he caught a hint of her words. Ha, the girl sure knew how to play. The faintest tinge of pride washed over him. At least she wasn’t utterly incapable.

You expect him to show favours? Forget it, sweetheart. He doesn’t play with words, so this isn’t a fight that you’ll win. Grow up, and let’s have a real war. Squabbling with a member of the opposite gender is foolish and merely shows you to be a flawed monarch. Either take advantage of her, or ignore her. Why are you wasting your breath? Sexist. Yes, he is. Even to his own supposedly beloved. The virile’s towering structure wove through the clouds of mist, a vicious snarl erupting from his throat as he announced his presence. Here I am, my dears. Unnervingly gorgeous portals glimmered with manic delight, his emotionless stare slithering over the duo as he began a carefully executed orbit.

He almost stared through the dark king, not feeling threatened in the slightest. Apollo was stronger, bigger and simply better. He believed that without a shadow of a doubt, and above his physical power, his mind was the strongest weapon bestowed in his arsenal. A force that couldn’t be shattered. Untended whip cracked against lightly feathered hocks, the ungodly palomino striding arrogantly towards the nymph, instantly dismissing the opposing masculine within less than a second. He acknowledged his darling by grazing his blood stained pearls over her slender nape, a gentle growl voiced within her sensitive lobe. Oh, how precious she was. And what a trouble maker too. If she hadn’t waltzed in to this world, he would not have needed to waste his energy or time fending off this clumsy mule.

“Ah, Dreadknot…” The words were almost purred, resting upon the air for several minutes, adding an electrifying tension to the atmosphere as the tyrant came to a halt a short distance between the two equines. His ruggedly handsome zenith tilted slightly, an expression of feigned innocence clouding his attractive veneer expectantly. Now, speak, my worthless servant. I am waiting.

.x.

[[ISO]lde]

In my mind, it was not going to be a matter of if Apollo made an appearance but when. Despite the various suppositions the homely mongrel had made about the Thestral Kaiser, Apollo was not one to let such a thing go very easily. I depended on the fact that I knew this, and held onto it just tightly enough to remain at ease in this particular juncture. After all, one might presume that Dreadknot was stronger than I....despite the lack of intelligence he exhibited. It so happened that I did not find a chance to respond to the blaspheme he spat in my general direction, although this was not an opportunity I found to mourn. I was disinterested in him. This beaten utterly desensitized waste of turf really was only that - a waste of time. Still, I mused I had more than enough time to waste so why not indulge. Unprecedented temptress that I was, I stared vacantly at this lost soul. Oh yes, Dready, you're lost. Far more lost than any of the damned yet. And there it was. The sublte hints of his presence. The topaz king of kings. Apollo. A slow, devilish sneer presented itself upon my countenance, posterior radiating the mirth that could only just be contained at this point in time. Oh, poor Dready. Oculus slanted towards the region that I happened to know he would wander from. Oh yes. I could sense my lord. A pleased expression was adopted unconsciously as he made his debut, ebony spheres intensifying with intrigue.

He was interesting. Peering at him, a rather affectionate purr orchestrated itself from within my vox in direct response to the sensation of his incisors. An enchanted female I was. And utterly doomed because of it. A quiet smirk was endowed him in a reference to what his sentiment obviously was for the opposing male. Allowing my features to turn slowly towards the now endangered equine. Oh boy. Frowning lazily, I squinted towards masculine, impish and laughing in the face of this. Of course Dreadknot was going to make some smart response to Apollo's coming to the rescue. It was simply too perfect. Then again so was Apollo.


ooc: Sorry for the shortness.

[BLITZKRIEG //]

dreadknot's name is spelled with one 't'. o.o seriously.