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Fallen Joy

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About Fallen Joy

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    Roleplay Wizard
  • Birthday 05/31/1990

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    Little.tyche

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  • Occupation
    Aspiring Medical Student
  1. Dancing Through Deserts

    The sudden glitter of silver wings drew the princess’ attention, her sword lowering as she turned towards the bedazzling displaying of flying fish. Being a woman of the desert, she was unfamiliar with the sea. To see a fish that could fly was mesmerizing at least. The innocence within the princess blossomed and her eyes sparkled with a coral colored smile. She rushed to the railing on the side, her raven hair flailing wildly in the wind as she leaned over to watch them go. Her heart raced and mind exclaimed with fascination—it was breathtaking, watching them sail from the depths of blue to capture the sun’s light upon her silver scales. Their jubilant nature was as warming as their dance. But that was soon out shined by the predator that sought them. “Gyah!” She yelped as the boat suddenly rocked, the princess nearly thrown over the railing from the quake if not for her grip. Her rattled eyes caught the stream of emerald slither underneath the surface, faster than the boat and dashing after the fish. In their panic some leaped onto the boat and were speared by Tyveres. She ignored that, watching the sea creature disappear once more underneath the depths. The tamer inside her yearned to ignite. She wanted to dive into the sea like a mermaid and chase the beast without fear. Her intrepidity against creatures was striven from a life surrounded by them—they were pure even when aggressive. She understood them on an internal level she couldn’t explain. She had a talent for it from the moments she first laid her hands on a Sujuali cub and watched his aggression rolled into submission from her touch. Her Suujali…Cecilia folded her arms on the rail, staring with concern into the waving seas. She wondered if he was alright. He was violently terrorizing the insides of tavern when she was captured. She wondered if he was captured and killed. Her personal guard as well, she wondered if he was secretly in on the rebellion or if he too was killed. Her caravan too... She remembered crying about all these things during that horrible week of her in captivity. Eventually her emotions dulled and she felt numb without hope. It wasn’t until her kidnappers used her to dance for money that they she felt some sort of spark light within her again. That was also when she met Tyveres in the crowd, who ultimately became her savior and the fuel for her feeling alive again. Even being alive at all. “Is everyone alright?” She turned her head up towards him. He was on the wheel, focused on the seas. When he glanced down at her, she felt herself blushing and glanced away again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was likely too soft for him to hear. She shook the enamored thoughts from her mind and tightened her grip on her sword. Everything should be okay in the end, she would make sure of it. “Hah!” With time, and only a small glisten of sweat upon her face. Tyveres was suddenly behind her. She startled only slightly, turning from her position to face him. "You're doing well with your stance. It's looking good." “T-Thank you.” She said, not helping the prideful swell in underneath her bosom. "I want you to swing at me from your stance." “What?” "Go on. I'm waiting." She stood there for a long moment. Resisting the tremble that threatened to unstabilize her grasp. Once more she had to steel herself into her resolve. She gradually went into her stance, as perfected as she could manage from a day’s training. Without a preemptive plan she struck at him, the swing clearly hesitated in fear of harming him. He dodged easily. She blinked. "Again." Narrowing her eyes in focus, she did it again. He side stepped her as if she was moving in slow motion. Frustration immediately daunted her and she swung again with more intent. “Hah!” He moved perfectly and she went forward, forced to shuffle a bit and pivot back to him. "If you can manage to make me use my blade, you'll be ready for the real training." “Hah!” She yelled and swung at him. Soon the two were tangoing across the deck, Tyveres' surprising grace meeting Cecilia's dancer feet. She kept advancing, twirling, standing in her stance and advancing some more. Her dress waved like the ocean around them, but being used to dancing in fabric, she refused to let it stop her. An audience would have cheered at their art, but Cecilia was only becoming vexed. She always had a natural talent for the things she performed in. She even accomplished the fighter’s stance and managed to unconsciously adapt her own luscious figurine to its mold. “Hah! Hah! Hah!” Hours passed, her frustration and stamina refusing to give in even at the first few hundred swings. Her thighs began to cramp and her abdomen burned with heat. She felt light and hastened without the pounds of hair weighing her body down, nearly unrivaled in her acrobatics, but he was dodging her like she was a snail! “Hah!....” She panted. “HAH!” With once last dodge, she glared at him. "Take a short break, Cecilia, and then we'll continue." Cecilia was immediately going to refuse before she noticed a shiver in her blade. Her clenching fingers had gone numb and pale sometime ago, and the enervation was oscillating into her biceps with additions rolls into her blade. The sword suddenly felt ten times its weight. She lowered it, the blade tip clinking on the wooden floor. She combed the hair the stuck to her face, flushed and tired. “Alright…” Tyveres returned to the wheel and Cecilia went underneath the ship. She realized that she hasn’t showered since before their arrival. The fabric of the dress was clinging like her hair from the sweat and also limiting her movements. It had to be the dress, right? She angrily gripped the fabric, breasts bouncing into view as she lifted it off her body, shook free her hair and she threw the dress harshly on the bed. She sighed, rubbing her arms along her sore muscles then approaching the shower chamber. Like with Tyveres, the water came out a tricking stream. Unlike Tyveres, she verbally whined at the sight. She reached her hand out and touched the water, it wasn’t cold but it wasn’t warm neither. At least it wasn't brown. She stepped into the shower and let it drip along her curves. Grasping the soap, she lathered her hands and rubbed the sudds along her skin. She felt everything relax along with her mind, though simultaneously chills inspired bumps along the nude skin. When kidnapped, she wasn’t allowed to shower. The memory of this immediately stopped her complaints. The one time they offered her a bath in the lake, she refused. She had rather be dirty than have them lustfully molest her curves with their hungry eyes. A sudden movement and clink drew her from her thoughts. Immediately her heart raced, was someone coming down the stairs? She shot her head around the room, there was one used towel and it wasn't big. Was it Tyveres? Why was he coming down here? Maybe he forgot something? The door squeaked open to the chamber. All things and thoughts preserved overwhelmed and she felt weak in the legs, backing up until her shoulder blades and rear compressed against the cold tile. She closed her eyes, listening to nothing but the pounding of her heart as the curtain shifted. Mew. Cecilia opened an eye. At the base of the shower with her cute head poking in was Tyveres fox companion Kimi. “Oh…” She slid to her calves and released a deep sigh. “You scared me.” She cupped the water in her hand and reached out towards the furry creature. “Thirsty?” She allowed the cat to licked at the water from her palm to her content before it retreated. Cecilia followed soon after, not being able to handle an addition moment in the shower. With streams of water tracing along her body, she removed herself from the shower. She took care to make sure the room was not occupied before she entered, then exited whilst dabbing her body dry the entire time. She walked to the chest to look through the fabric. Before she could even open it, she noticed an outfit laying across the chest. It was some thick leather breeches and vest with furry linings. There was also a long sleeved black shirt to go underneath it. The princess had never worn something so…tight fitting and crude. But it seemed warm and flexible. Something a warrior might wear. She threw on the outfit, groaning a bit as she compressed her breasts together so she could successfully zip the vest up. Then she wiggled on the pants and vainly went back into the bathroom to gazed at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks slowly became to pink. It fit on her like a second skin. Her hair…her outfit…even her new tan. No make up. No jewelry. She didn’t recognize herself. Would anyone? Mew. The princess turned to look at Kimi. “How do I look?” Soon the princess returned to the deck. The wind broke around her leather, blocked from stealing heat off her skin. She breathed deeply as she pulled out her sword, feeling better and ready to go again. She gazed up at Tyveres, bringing her sword up towards him. “I’m ready! Let’s go again!”
  2. Act, and Witches will act.

    "I think I may be able to help this man, but I would need to take him to a pure natural water source. It needs to be natural, mother’s gift to man." The doctor deepened his brow wrinkles in thought for a moment, then perked up with an idea. “Would the herbal fountain work? It 's man-made but the waters are taken directly from creek rivers. We use it to boil our medicinal herbs.” The Matriarch's head turned slightly towards Namiko as she whispered, closing her eyes and nodding with understanding. She too was exhausted from last night’s battle. A hairline over in magic and she could have been out a week as opposed to a night. Though physically her body felt fine, her soul had a weakened quiver to it. It made her muscles feel heavy. She felt a tinge of guilt in offering Namiko so thoughtlessly without consideration of her fatigue. She was used to being forced into labor when at the very limits of her breath. She turned her best to be a witch, but more times than not, her orc guided childhood revealed itself in subtle ways. “We’ll need you to hold him for another day before we can help." She said to the doctor. "Will he last?” The doctor frowned and glanced a second time at the man. He analyzed the patient for a while before nodding. “If in Gaia’s plan.” “Good. I’d like to see your herbs. There might be something there we can use to brew a palliative remedy in the meantime. Perhaps a sedative.” “Ah, are you alchemists?” “Something like that.” The doctor humbly nodded without further pry and walked to the door. As the witches turned to follow, Kana made a protesting grunt at their abandonment. The Matriarch paused and turned over her shoulder just a tad. “Hold him for just a while longer.” Kana grumbled under her breath and leered like a protesting toddler, but the Matriarch ignored it and continued after the doctor. Her hand reached and grasped for Namiko’s smooth arm, sliding it down her skin until she reached a hand to intertwine her fingers with. She used her sister to follow them effortlessly to a sliding wood door with beige cloth panels. As the doctor opened it, the panels folded upon each other to revealed the late morning light of the outside garden. The soothing sound of flowing water immediately serenaded their senses along with rich smells that glided off emerald carpets. The back garden was beautiful and refined; fenced off by a wooden palisade and paved with stone patterns in the earth. Littered along the different pathways were herbs of many: some flowered, others braided into vines. A few fruits trees fanned out their branches to barricaded sunlight from herbs best suited for the shadows. Everything surrounded an open green hearth of dancing water. The fountain was a large bamboo sprout spilling crystalline water onto layers upon layers of coral rocks and eventually fell into a gentle aesthetic spread into a stone paved creeks throughout the herbal displays around them. Noises from the city were low and surrounding towards the front of the clinic, the building appeared to be on the outer most regions of the quarter. The view from the garden has bit a few city structures to be seen in the rear. The herbal garden definitely has a serene sense of isolation. At the rear of the garden was a gate in the fence opened to the public. Beside the gate was a quaint stand surrounded by home packed boxes and pouches. A different dressed nurse was within the stand, occasionally handing off a box to a patron that in turn gave her gold or silver. “What we lack in magical specialty, we make up for in herbal medicines. A lot of our currency comes from selling and brewing them.” The Matriarch listened silently but only offered a simple nod. The herbs were indeed fresh and beautiful, likely provided by the inner streams throughout the garden. She couldn’t see the colorful art of the design, but she felt nature’s pleasant energy dancing off the plants themselves. Or…at least they were pleasant. There was a drain in the energy, a sense of unhappiness and fatigue. It screamed and wailed more prominently from the herbs closest to the clinic. These herbs had a dark haze about them. She imagined even the Great Spirits of the nature suffered from such proximity to iniquity. The Matriarch began to understand why it called upon them to help. The Matriarch sighed a bit, she wished Clementine was there. The witch was a master of herbal art and potions; the Matriarch’s blind eyes made it impossible to practice such witch and potions craft. “Sister do you know medicines and herbs?” One so closely associated with the blood of nature itself, often had an affinity for it. Especially as witches with elemental chosen affinities were often close to nature itself. Even those of fire. The Matriarch guessed Namiko might have some knowledge of herbology. “We need to find a sedative herb that we can use a small bit of magic to purify. We may be able to use it to slow the poison in these patients and sedate their suffering for a time.” Potions were a witch’s way to expand their magic without exhausting it. If they were lucky, perhaps they would find a herb to expedite their own recovery. The longer they were weakened, they more vulnerable to their to those hunting them. Especially if they were tracking the amulet. !!!! The Matriarch had completely let it slip her mind! Where was the amulet? The witch’s hand clenched Namiko to draw her attention. “Sister! The…” An annoyed grunt interrupted them. Partially hidden behind the thicker forestry of herbs and on the other side of the fountain was The Bodyguard. We was sitting on his rump, awkward and still ridiculously tall as he stared with his resting scowl upon two children crawling around joyfully about his trunk sized legs. The orcs had resting orders not to outright attack the innocent, though most found some way to loophole that with their aggression alone. The Bodyguard was the most loyal of the entire clan and didn’t look for loopholes. Though he gave the children a consistent evil stare and threatening growls, he sat there like a rock as they climbed on him. Around his neck was the violet amulet, his magic-void body offering nothing to its thieving effects. Tana was also in the garden, leaning on an fruit tree with crossed arms. The kids stayed cleared from her. Perhaps they knew a biter from a barker. “Oi-oye!!” The doctor exclaimed horrifically with a paling face before running over to the scene. “Teta! Jan! He is not to be played on! Get off him this instant!” The children laughed and jumped off the orc as the doctor came at them, the boy and girl dodging his grabbing hands and running under his legs to elsewhere in the garden. The doctor released exacerbated sigh, feeling too old of all this trouble. When The Bodyguard sneered angrily with his large pale yellow tusks and sharpened teeth, the doctor paled an additional shade and released a nervous bead of sweat. “Ah…Sorry about them. Kids…” He slowly retreated, placing his hand on his heart. “Well…”He began as he re-approached the witches. “That is enough excitement for me…I’ll be returning inside to care for my patients. If you need anymore of my assistance, don’t hesitant to ask.”
  3. Talons and Wings, It's a Witch Thing

    There was a still moment after Jadis spoke, a thick silence only broken by the oscillations of the dragon’s natural croon. The creature gazed at them intently as if staring through flesh and bone to see the intent of their minds. Another heated wind came from her nostrils, making the icicles cry cold tears before her voice echoes once more. Chrysanthe. The tension in her body settled down as the words came, scaled legs folding underneath her body as she laid on her underside. Jadis kept a respectful distance between the sparkling bars, which was a start from reaching out to pet her muzzle like animal. The dragon’s focus was solely on her for now. The dragon held an ancient royalty about her demeanor, one birthed by many seasons of harsh winter. Her scales gleamed like diamonds under the oldest layer of the earth, molded from ugly carbon molded against the pressures and extreme heat. The dragon had experienced many tribulations and struggles through her life to make her hardened, rare, and beautiful all at once. Moments ago she was outwardly aggressive, that was a moment of her fury perhaps even a moment of weakness when the situation came to her cherished egg. But now that the moment had passed, she seemed unnervingly calm. Yet in the course of only a few hours, she transformed the tunnel of a volcano to ice. The hazy mist surrounding them held a tranquility, but the mingling of her silent frozen anger and the volcano's fighting heat, a thunderstorm was a brew. The question was...just how much of a storm would be there after this calm? Where is my egg? She asked straight to the point, her talon curling softly but vigorously into the new layers of ice before her—it crackled and spread into fissures from her seemingly absentminded feline kneading. She wanted for their answer, depending on what it was, everything would remain serene. Ferrah kept her hands in her cargo furry pockets, hunching her shoulders uncomfortably at the humid warm air but cold underside of ice. She remained next to the lever and out of the way of the witches. Right now her only job was to observe.
  4. Dragons Are Forever

    Natasha was roaring up to the skies, her lips practically vibrating from the vigor of her vociferation. Her blood boiled and engorged her body with the passion of their victory. She had conquered great platoons of orcs from rival tribes, fought beasts that lurked the mountains, and gouged the carmine eyes that shone within the darkness of her fortress tunnels. Now...now she felt like the arousal of conquering of dragons. Twice. Great winged beasts of legends not only conquered but owned and tamed by them. The seer burn of her emotions could have consumed her. Suddenly in this intense moment, Alexandria hands grasped her cheeks. Natasha barely had time to silence herself and widened her eyes a half inch before their lips met. The she-orc's lips, though large and accommodating to the elf’s were rough like her skin with hint of softness. The orcs did not possess the culture of kissing, much like hugging, within their tribe and Natasha was frozen by the sudden collision of intimacy. Alexandria would feel the orc's heart sudden race into a hum, the hands upon her shoulders tight and tense. As they separated, her hot breath cascaded heavily upon her departing lips. Alexandria would stare upon a face of sheer confusion, Natasha staring down at her with nothing capable of manifesting on her face when her mind was whirling gears wildly. Nothing made sense, she hasn’t even see the witches engage in such an activity. Was it her war-cry? Natasha blinked in false realization. An odd and vulnerable one to be sure, but with the fire burning within her, she could only imagine Alexandria must have felt the same way. It must have been her victorious outcry. In that case… “Let’s go h--" Natasha clawed hand slid into the crimson locks of the witch, brisk but careful not to cleave anything with her bladed gauntlet. Her eyes sharpened with damn near erotic zeal as she pushed the witch’s lips back onto hers, holding her tight to her and staring directly into her likely stunned eyes. She separated, lips wet from the meet, and she grunted firmly with her prideful grin. “Home to celebrate.” The risk of Alexandria falling off Syvos would not be an option. Knowing that Alexandria had exhausted herself and was possibly even too weak to ride safely, Natasha wordlessly with all her great strength and still beating passion, lifted the witch within her arms and mounted the landing Durzol. The dragon was large and big enough to hold them both. Placing Alexandria against her, she hooted for the dragon to take off. He did so proudly in a rush of wind. If Alexandria opted to ride Syvos, Natasha would take her to her proper steed and simply sail very closely beside and below should she fall. Soon the two dragons were sailing side by side into the skies with the flock of beasts following suit. It would not be difficult, for the dragon recognized their alpha and followed accordingly. All Syvos would have to do is lead. They circled around the mountain, which was seeping with intense black smoke and gathering into the skies. As they started back towards Mt Ariadne. The black smokes made an eerie and catching sound. Natasha turned her head to the side towards the mountain, a moment of alarm enrapturing her as the smoke seemed to come to life and fly against the currents of the wind, bleaching into a pale gray. The obscure clouds condensed and shaped, molding into a great serpentine like beast. It looked like the very beast that leaped over the orc in the flames. The smoke dragon detached itself from the leaking mountain, its light form leaving the normal black smoke behind and sailing through the air until its great figure glided beside them. As the witch and the orc looked at it, the dragon turned its head towards them. In that instant it scattered, forming a ring. In the center of it Marquise and three hounds. The orc was thrashing madly at the air.“COME AT ME! I’LL TAKE EVERY LAST ONE OF YA!! I’LL EAT YER GUTS AND HANG YOUR LEGS ON MY EARS! COM--” He paused and blinked, literally floating for a half moment before the ring too dispersed and he went falling to the earth. "WHAT IN THE HEEEEEEELLLLLL?!" He collided with the side of the mountain, rolling down and yelling curses all the while. Left behind was the hatching, flapping in the air and watching his master fall before chasing after him with squawking noises. Natasha blinked once...then twice….then suddenly started laughing. Her normally rough and deep voice became high and feminine. She never laughed. The emotion overwhelmed her like a tickle she couldn’t stop. Her stomach suddenly hurt so much. Before Alexandria appeared a small emerald colored plush dragon--Chubbo. The little transparent familiar winked then blew a kiss before jetting towards her torso. Alexandria would feel the doorways of her connection to the CS trembled to be opened. If she allowed it, the familiar disappeared into her chest and vanished through the highways of the coven’s collective. Natasha hadn’t noticed, for she barely stopped herself from laughing. He was such an idiot. But it was a live idiot. The group continued to sail towards back toward the mountain. The last of the sunlit sinking into the horizon and the dragon becoming more lively then ever. Marquise and some of his hounds survived the spiders and likely were rescued by the magical flames cast by Alexandria and carried by Chubbo. They lost many dragons, but at least captured enough to start a night. The valley was saved from an onslaught of spiders. It was a good day. Natasha was looking forward to sinking her tusks into a raw juicy steak when they returned.
  5. Dancing Through Deserts

    A sudden encasement of warmth embraced and softened her fall. The princess opened her lashes gradually, peering at Tyveres with a soft shift of her face. She smiled gently at his concern, irises glistening with enervated enamorment. She nodded to his question with an unconscious blush upon her cheeks. “Yes. I guess I overdid it...” “That’s enough training for the day.” She nodded a second time, gathering her strength so she could travel with him to one of the benches adorned with a plate of needed nourishment. All her life she had been pampered with the finest cuisines; extravagant dishes by culinary artists of the royal kitchen. Then all at once she was a prisoner, given stale bread and dried meat that tasted like revolting cardboard. It was amazing how now, she thought as she placed the first bite in her famished mouth, that this simple homemade fish felt like the best thing she’d ever tasted. Her mannerisms as a princess didn’t fade, as she ate neatly and slowly with the cutlery the ship managed. "You did good today. You just might be ready to swing the sword tomorrow." Her exhaustion weighed heavier and heavier on her eyes with every bite. Just after the last one, her head leaned over to the side and the fork clunking on the wood plate a bit loud. "Thank...you..." she whispered as she fell asleep on his shoulder. ~ ~ ~ The next morning Cecilia awoke within her bed, opening her eyes to the early dawn of silvery light. She assumed that Tyveres took her to sleep. Her sword was resting sheathed at the side of the bed. She looked to the hammock, confirming if he was there or not, then grabbed her sword and headed topside. The sea was beautiful that morning, glowing with shimmers of light like a celestial pool. Her breath flew into the air with clouds of mist, and goosebumps spread across her exposed skin. She was still wearing the flowy sea-like dress Tyveres procured for her after their quarrel with Calvin. The dress flew in the heavy morning wind, gale hands reaching within to molest her naked thighs, waist and breasts. She blushed and embraced herself, feeling the cold effects press had into her arms. “It gets colder as we sail further out.” It was the captain’s voice, Captain Lee Frank Mandeville III as she remembered. The husk old man walked up behind her and placed a heavy draped coat upon her shoulders. She turned to see him, placing her one hands on the thick coat and instantly warmer. She smiled gratefully. “There’s a chest down below, yer bloke companion got yer some clothing for the cold.” “Thank you.” “Ya seem to have a lot on yer mind. Suppose there's some great battle on the horizon for ya, princess.” Cecilia frowned, glancing down. Frank grasped her chin and tilted her face back up to see his toothy grin. “Yer make it through whatever it is. You got strong eyes that can fight the world. My daughter had eyes like yers. She could put sail the seas with her spirit alone. Eyes like that...People look at yer and just feel hope and strength.” Cecilia blinked a few times then hunched her shoulders and lowered her chin . “I...I don’t know if I can rule an entire kingdom.” “We’re always forced into responsibility before we’re ready, lass. But yer got tah eyes of a warrior and queen under all that burden and fear. If you were my queen, I’d follow yeh til death.” Her eyes widened slightly and then princess nodded tearfully “Thank you.” The sailor nodded and lowered his hand. Cecilia turned back to the sea for a moment and the captain returned to his duties on the wheel. The sun's crown was over the horizon, breaking rays of sunshine upon the front end of the boat as they sailed to the east. She placed her hands on the rails, winds capturing her hair and lifting free strands into her peripheral. She eyed them for a moment, and then grasped a stream firmly within her hand. Her heart began to race as she withdrew her sword and press it close to locks. She thought of her mother, sorrow weighing in her mind before her determination forced it away. “Time for me to change…” she whispered then cut the hair. Soon black streams of hair were flying against the skies like gliding ravens. She watched them disappear into the sea, imaging all her fears, weakness, and old self sailing on their wings. Her hair, now shortened to her shoulder blades, waved freely in the air. She felt lighter and less burdened, both in body and in mind. Taking another deep breath, she steeled her eyes and went into her combat stance. “Hah!”
  6. Act, and Witches will act.

    Namiko’s laughter, as exquisitely pleasant as it was, still made the white witch hunch her shoulders and lower her head with an embarrassed and shy expression. “Mmn.” She mumbled uncomfortably, glancing away from her and twirling a raven locks between her fingers. Then the warmth of Namiko hand folded into hers like nectar upon snow; she felt her pink blush deepened a shade as she sat back into the bed. She was accustomed to be guided by the rough gargantuan hands of the Bodyguard, the gentle flow of Namiko hands pulling to her to metallic boot was new and bewildering, but she smiled with understanding. “Ah, thank you sister. I can handle it from here.” She softly said, releasing her fingers and proceeding to place her boots on her feet. Namiko did the same. Afterwards the both them exited the room hand in hand into the swarm of noise. Clinic was relatively small compared to the size of the room, they stepped into a white hallway of patient doors, most of them closed and occupied. What struck was the beds outside the room, five stretchers overflowing the hallways with patrons of the city laying in discomfort. They were heavily breathing with sweat lathered and flushed faces, nurses occasionally approaching to wipe the drench away. None of them were coughing, but they seemed simply exhausted, feverish, and ghostly pale. The Matriarch frowned deeply as they strolled passed, not focus on either individual but feeling the heaviness of the atmosphere weigh shoulders. One of the patient rooms were open and and from it came all the clamorous sounds. As the witches passed the threshold, they would see the doctor and three nurses surrounding a patient bed with obscuring bodies. They spoke in asynchronous voices in attempt to calm whomever was there. The Matriarch paused, her eyes immediately narrowing. The bed could have been on fire from the amount of black smoky energy she saw leaking from the hidden patient. There was no mistaken, it was the same iniquitous ebony haze that produced that dark elves. “Do you feel that?” She said to Namiko then quickly moved forward. The doctor saw them approaching and intervened. “Please keep your distance. The patient is out of control right now.” “Let me see,” she said firmly. The doctor frowned and hesitated, gauging the solemn expression upon the witch’s face before turning slightly over his shoulder. The nurses glanced back and the doctor nodded, so they slide just out of the way so they could see. Kana was bent over, her eyes stoic and facial muscles twitching with restrained aggression. Underneath her hands was a young man, perhaps an elderly teen, thrashing violently with obscenities spilling from his mouth. The white within his eyes were darkened into a grey and the veins with his neck and exposed arms ran black as if ink replaced his blood. The metal framing was bent disruptively where the patient once grabbed and his legs flails wildly , attempting to pushing himself chaotically and angrily against Kana’s strong bind. As the witches approached, his crazed eyes shifted toward them, his pupils suddenly dilating. He yelled out madly, convulsing even more violently. Kana tightened her muscles and pushed him more firmly down, the bed compressing under her force. The Matriarch stared for just a moment. Thinking. Then she touched Namiko’s arm. “I think you can help, sister.” The man was cursed with something beyond the role of medicine. The Matriarch was certain Namiko would be able to sense the familiarity to the night before. Her magic was purifying and blessed, and thus the white witch left it to her. She turned towards the doctor. "What happened?" “It’s the second one…” he said with a voice full of worry. "We’ve have over ten patients come in with sickness we haven’t been able to identify for the last three days. At first everyone seems to just have a fever and fatigue but…” He paused and sighed. “Yesterday a patient became hysterical, broke a nurses arm with his thrashing. We thought it might have been something magical...we don't specialize in that here...so we had to transfer him. A few hours later...I heard his body started leaking with this black ooze and he died. What's even more disturbing is that soon after he died, his body went missing. Some say it vanished into a haze of smoke. I don't know... We hoped it was a one time event, but now..." He looked back to the patient, his wrinkles deepening with his concern. "I'm worried they're going to quarantine this quarter of Dougton if this doesn't stop. Can you...help?" The Matriarch glanced back towards Namiko and the patient. "We'll see."
  7. Dragons Are Forever

    Natasha and Durzol drew back, smoldered spider bodies and ash paving the way in a storm of gray flakes for Alexandria and Syvos to fly through. She watched them enter into the honeycomb caverns of rock and infestation, dragons following in a fantastic typhoon of scaly colors and in pursuit of their alpha. What was once chaos transformed into a flock of synchronous birds adorning the air. Natasha held back, confident Alexandria would hold her own as she rekindled the flames as needed for their escaping pack’s safety. The sounds of yelping beasts echoed below, the hounds retreating from onslaught of the spiders in desperate whimpers until they were forced into a conglomerated ball of what was soon to be an inevitable death. However before the lupine feast could began, Marquise fell into fray with a barbaric roar followed by a gust tailored by swing of his ax. The strength of his outrageous muscles and momentum sent the nearest ring of spiders flying back from the circle. Marquise, both unconcerned and unaware of the witch’s abandon stood there strong, ready to fight to the death before he saw his furry pack fall to mindless arachnids. That was before an abrupt flame swept across the area. Natasha and Durzol dove down, dodging the falling boulders in the sky and smoldering the closest spiders. "Auugh!!" Natasha leaped from her dragon, landing on a boulder and kicking off it to send the rock crashing and rolling into another wave of spiders. She flipped back and landed on Durzol. Marquise glanced up and Natasha met his ruby gaze. She bought him time, but could not secure his life. Silence communication traveled intensely between them before she-orc disappeared through the exiting hole of the hide. As the Marquise disappeared from view, she saw his hatching dragon peak its head from that mass of Tarzan tamed hair and roar with echoing screeches into that air. Such an idiot... Her thoughts only managed to say before she continued forward. She’d be lying if she said Marquise deserved to die to such a fate, he was great warrior and unrivaled beast tamer. However, the irony of him meeting his possible death because of his love for beasts (or sympathy for an hatchling) rubbed Natasha in a particular fashion. He had secured a grown dragon early, he'd could have easily escaped. Whatever emotions she felt, it all concluded on that he was indeed an idiot. The tunnels were a nightmare. Spiders and debris rained madly around them. Natasha released boundless curses as the creatures fell onto Durzol and attempted to sting at his hide, thankfully too thick for their baby stingers. She used the chain and her gauntlets to knock as many away as possible, all whilst struggling not to be bucked off herself from his violent twists and dives. She noticed some of the dragons scatter. Like her own, they knew the mountain intimately. Hopefully most of them made it out alive. Then banishing the shadows, the blinking light of the scarlet skies appeared before her, dripping with curtains of green melting gloo at the mountain threshold. Behind the melting cascade was Alexandria, shining within the golden luminescence of treasure-hued armor against a blushing sunset. The heated wind from her magic swirled around her body, her crimson hair seemed to flare like fire itself. And...perhaps it was the illusion of the sunset glorifying Alexandria’s body, but the orc could have sworn she saw transparent strands of emerald flowing within those scarlet locks. In fact she could have even sworn she saw a ghostly figure embracing the witch... Naur an edraith ammen! Natasha only had a moment to briefly widen her eyes before the witch was consumed with magical power and fire sprung from her body. Flames carpeted the interiors of the mountain. Though instantly succumbed to the air an oven, Natasha was a volcanic-borne orc and resistant to such deadly heat. Being not only last in line but having a sufficient gap from her predecessor, Natasha lasted the longest within the flames and witnessed the most. The sea of fire was like a magma lake, the little crisping feelers of the spiders extending like hands of the damned seeking salvation. Natasha couldn’t feel more sadistic about their pain. However, her merciless blood lust was distracted by a what could have only been described as a beast within the flames. It slithered like a shark within the depths of the sea, gliding through the currents. Natasha was not one to fear, but she couldn’t deny the rush in her heart and tightening of her hands upon her gauntlets as it approached. Was this Alexandria’s magic? The remembrance that she was indeed of witch and that she could produce the devil’s work with mere words and swings of bells, flashed before Natasha in a deathly instant. The mysterious creature's mound grew rapidly close with an intense madness before abruptly leaping from the flames and over her and Durzol’s flying bodies. Natasha glanced up, watching all its terrifying glory sail passed her. With the magical imagery imprinted upon her mind, she burst through entrance and into the skies.The dragons all soared, roaring triumphantly and happily with their escape. More than half of the dragons were lost to the spiders and crumbling mountain, but at least the spiders wouldn’t escape into the fields. It turned out barricading the mountain was a double edged blade, it likely hindered some dragons from escaping the spiders but also preventing the spiders from escaping and becoming a problem for both the orcs and the witches. As she cast the spell Alexandria would feel a familiar and warm presence flow from within and around her, manifesting through the intimacy of the Coven’s Soul. There wouldn’t be an ounce of doubt of what this presence was, who hands gently layered upon her own, which lips whispered the incantation sweetly and softly within her ear even as she roared it in passion. Opening the door to her soul, she’d find a spiritual entity manifesting through the threshold before diving into the sea fire to swim into the darkness of the mountain. You did an amazing job, Alexandria… The motherly voice would resonant deeply through the mysterious planes of her body, soul, and mind. Many miles away a pair of coral lips formed a proud smile. A glowing hand touched a warmed heart between breasts as a great bird sailed into the distance. The presence faded and a gust of wind suddenly rushed around the witch. Natasha leaped from Durzol's back, landing with impeccable timing to catch Alexandria's falling form against her chest. Smoke now exited the mountain from all its orifices, floating into the skies in a beacon of hazy black. It would likely be seen for miles around, perhaps thought of as a fire in the borders of the great desert and forest mountains. If Alexandria glanced up at from the embrace, Natasha met her enervated gaze in silence for a lingering moment before her lips curved into a rare grin. She then turned her eyes to the sky, lifted a fist, and released a war cry. “VICTORY!!” Durzol released a great wave of flames in unison, its heat ascending her loosened raven hair into the skies.
  8. Dancing Through Deserts

    Tyveres' shadow sprang up like a striking serpent and Cecilia's eyes widened briefly before she clenched them shut, black hair bobbing and chin dipping under rising shoulders. She released a feminine startled cry. "Nyah!" After a brief pause she opened an eye, noting the practically fanged black ribbon on the blade and Tyveres grinning up at her. Her face gradually flushed into a cherry hot hue and she felt her heart beginning to beat in the rims of her ears. Its heckling rhythm practically convinced her that even her own body was laughing at her. "Are you sure this is what you want?" The princess blinked twice, rolled her coral lips into her mouth and sharpened her eyes before firmly nodding. “Mm!” She tightened her grip on the handle of the blade as if to protest the shadow. She knew battle wasn't in her nature. As a child she had the choice to refined her magic for grace or grit, but she hated war. Learning to slay a man was miles from her dances of seduction. But she couldn’t have Tyveres protect her at the cost of endangering himself. They almost drowned because of it, almost had a roof collapse upon them--she simply had to learn to defend herself. Perhaps...even protect him. "Taking up a sword to defend yourself is one thing, but taking it up with the intention of ending someone's life is completely different. What would you be fighting for?" She lowered her eyes and diverted them away. The words made her arms tremble with fear and chest tighten uncomfortably, but it wouldn’t shake her resolve. She needed to be worthy to be queen of her kingdom. As queen, she needed to sacrifice every ounce of herself for those she loved and protected. She couldn’t bring herself to consider she might have to slay her own father for her kingdom. She simply couldn’t. Not now. “I don’t want to be a burden to those I care about anymore. I...I have to learn to protect them instead.” She was too embarrassed to mention how much he personally played into that equation. So the lesson began. The shadowy hands touched and manipulated her figure. Though her skin was chilled and grew little bumps to the shiver, she willingly became a doll to the touch. Perhaps the average pupil would have spat at the thought of their first lesson being something so insanely simple, not even allowing the swing of a blade, but the princess’ trust in him prevented such spoiled thoughts. She paid close attention to the way he placed her body until it was perfect in his eyes. Despite her rhythmic background accustoming her body to stylish positions beyond the mundane human, she felt incredibly awkward and imbalanced. Yet the stance was still immensely perfect. It felt right and open, yet guarded and protected. That was immediately lost when the boat hit its next slap of the ocean. She yelped and stumbled several feet to the side. This was followed by a deep blush then immediate attempt to return to the position he provided. Wrong. He had to manipulate her again. The redness in her cheeks only saturated but she nodded at her mistakes. Her mastery in acrobatics allowed her to effortlessly move rapidly and elegantly to the cadence of music, but still sporadically make time gasp long enough to enrapture her audience in frozen seduction. Today she would make the sea her audience. The echoing sound of footsteps drew her focus from her tightening muscles to her mentor. Her sapphire eyes caught him encircling her coolly, those sharp and alluring eyes taking in every inch of her form with analytic detail. All the steel in her muscles threatened to turn instantly into jello. Her stomach swarmed with wings and she was absolutely certain her body was moments from combustion. No! Shake it off! She breathed. This wasn’t the time to be a squirmy girl with a crush...Even when his warm hand touched her bare arm and slithered to the small of her back, making everything feel like fire in his wake. She prayed the tremble he’d feel would be mistaken for mere inept ability to hold the stance. "We'll also have to do something about this as well." She glanced over her shoulder, watching her raven locks spill from his hands like ink and settled. Her hair? Cecilia couldn’t help but frown. Her lengthy hair was a trademark of female royalty. Her mother’s hair was twice the length of her body, grown since birth. She used it to create beautiful ribbons and crown figurine designs in her hairstyles. “Mmm…” Was all she managed to this comment, along with a small nod. "Practice going in and out of your stance until it feels natural. Only then can you learn to swing the blade." “Mm!” she said with a sharper nod. Thus she began to practice exactly as he instructed. The training held similarity to balancing pirouettes, requiring her to possess the stillness of a tree whilst still swaying in the currents of a spin. Nothing would deter her from saving her kingdom. She’d practice until it was perfect. Cecilia went in and out of the stance, occasionally needing to be corrected. She did it under the observation of the sunlight floating towards the eastern horizon and through the slapping spray of passing sea. Minutes drifted into hours, her nectar skin beginning to glisten and moisten in the light. Her breath deepened. “Oi!” Came a voice two hours later from the captain. “Get yer hide up here and release me! Gon set some sailing lines and take a nap!” Tyveres was called to take over the wheel. The drink and rations he left for Cecilia remaining untouched. “Hah!” She yelled, going into the stance one more. Her mind long left the scenery around her. She fell into the complete hypnotic sway of the ocean. The rhythm cause more movement than sound, but she felt its beat oscillate through her legs and core. Those naked feet began to slide and tap to the tilts of the vessel, body spinning and bending to the invisible motions before landing into her fighting stance. “Hah!” Hours melted into the blue skies and turned them scarlet. The captain was sleeping near a net line thrown into the ocean a few hours ago. As the evening shaded the scarlet skies into navy hues, he opened his beady eyes with a big yawn. “Hah!” Came Cecilia’s voice. He glanced over, seeing her on the head of the vessel. Her thigh were quaking, and hidden underneath the handle of the blade were raw blisters upon her palms. The skin underneath her beautiful prim toes became red with irritation. The food left since morning was untouched. Her eyes had long glazed over, reflecting nothing but the moonlight glimmer of the ocean. Her audience. "Hnn….hn…” she breathed softly. “Hnnn….hah!” She went into the position again. The captain got up and pulled the net into the boat. Seven fish. He soon got a flame going and cooked their scaly prizes for dinner. “Hey there, missy.” He eventually walked up to Cecila. “Haven’t seen ya grab a single bite all day. Why don’t yer take a breather? Look like yer 'bout to collapse.” "Just a little longer,” she whispered. “I’m okay.” She smiled, but her eyes never left the sea. “Hah!” The captain frowned and placed the plate of fish and potatoes where the drink was. He kept his eyes on the princess until he walked up to the wheel of the ship. “I can handle the wheel for the rest of the night." He said to Tyveres. "Yer outta see to her.” The Cecilia squinted her eyes. She had to kept going. She had to be perfect before they boarded in Terrenus. She just had to be… “Hn...hn….” The ocean was swaying more than usual. The moon appeared to be melting away into the ocean. When did the sun disappear? One hour? Three hours ago? “Hn….hn…” The ocean was very...very rocky that night. She suddenly fell over.
  9. Beyond the Mysterious Beyond

    “Every world possesses secrets often forgotten through time,” the demon said solemnly as she slid the now silent mirror under her arm. She felt a sense of exhaustion from the artifact and her arm was suddenly cold. Whatever lived within its reflective surface was only a fragment of what it once was, and the cold tingling in her fingers suggested it purloined a bit of her own energy in order to communicate with them. Odd. She thought her control the flow was absolute, but Lux ravenously demanded more without her knowledge. Odd and disturbing. She removed her hand from the rounded curve of Persephone’s shoulder, listening to her response. "I wish it would all just stay in the pages of fairy tales.” Persephone had a fascinating and grim sense of humor. Her personality was rambunctious; from her wild aggression to her dark laughter at disaster. It was likely contagious and made her both daring and exciting to associate with. Like scaling a great cliff side without a safety line, she was perfumed with endorphins and adrenaline that lit life into one’s smoldered hearth, but was still capable of sending one plummeting to their death with the wrong mistake. Perhaps that too was the essence of a vampire. That dangerous attraction focused all its waving seduction around the demon like the summoning chorus that drew her into this world. “We must do something, I do not know what but we could be the only ones who know what is happening here. That thing is horrible, sickening, twisted and vile. Would you help me to stop it? I wouldn’t be able to do it alone. Lux told us about this.” Indeed. Lux the mysterious living mirror told them of a tragedy to repeat and befall upon the world without their intervention. The vampire’s reaction was fiery, falling into the role of heroism and responsibility like in any great and historical tale. Her enthusiasm and obligation was the page turner and title of an exhilarating adventure. She wanted the demon to be apart of it. "Please, I feel like it’s a sort of duty." The demon listened until she finished. Her eyes settled on the determination glinting like treasure in Persephone’s eyes, and then to the motionless armor that still managed to breath invisible waves of death like a predator in the grass. The demon imagined its stillness correlated with its lack of ability to possess both the undead and the demonic. However, opportunity was only as elusive as the vision of its seeker, it tended to slide easily into view to those that sought it. Needless to say something had to be done, but was she the one meant to do it? Destiny as it were? “My duty is to the Pariki,” she said in her blunt unchanging tone as her eyes swayed back to the vampire. “Tales cannot dissuade that.” She turned away from the vampire, hooves clicking on the wooden and battered ground as she began to walk. The Pariki breathed harshly through its nostril, releasing a cerulean puff of haze before it began to trail behind her. “But…” she said pausing near the armor. “I want to help.” The words slid from the roll of her silk tongue with still and calm fitting of the placidity her irises displayed. “I do not trust the story of this mirror, it holds a greed in its aura. “You spoke of books and libraries with information, let us explore more of this tale. But first…” She hovered her the metal claws of her gauntlet over the armor. “We must create a vessel.” She closed her eyes and latin words whispered from her mouth. The Pariki encircled its body around her rear, folding its large horned head over her shoulder. More mist flew from its nostrils, but instead of dissipating it flew towards her hand in a dance that transformed into beautiful flames. Likewise the orb on the back of the gauntlet began to glow; crackling ebony energy leaked from the depths and too surrounding her claws. The magic commemorated together, cerulean and black merging to create a sapphire blue that condensed tight and solidified. When it finished, a teardrop jewel remained. It floated briefly than landed within her palm. A heavy breath came through her lips and her body suddenly leaned back towards the large animal. It supported her effortlessly. She gradually closed her eyes, released a long exhale and then stood start again. A small tremble was in her furry legs, but she stepped firmly towards the armor and dropped the jewel over it. It fell like the nature of its shape and then suddenly paused a few inches from the armor, shining so brilliantly that it bleached the colors around them. When the light faded, the armor was no longer there; only the jewel resting on the ground. It seemed still and undisturbed. “That’ll hold the armor for a few days. But we’ll need to keep it isolated from human touch and other sources it can latch on. We still don't know the full extent of its power.” The Pariki grunted and the demon looked over her shoulder to the beast with a nod. She touched the beast's muzzle before the creature transformed into familiar flames, slithering across the air and disappearing between curve of the demon's staff. The demon, stilling panting softly, turned her attention back to the vampire. This was her world, only she could lead the way from this point.
  10. Dancing Through Deserts

    Lost within the trials and tribulations of her mind, the princess didn’t notice the approach of Tyveres until he spoke. “How are you feeling?” The princess jumped with a startled quiver, turning her head in a snap towards Tyveres as he sat down. "Oh...I..." She unconsciously folded her feet a bit closer to their thighs and lowered her eyes a bit. Her cheeks were stricken in drying lines of tears and she hurried to wipe those away as well, bringing a scarlet smile to her face. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice a hair raspy. “A lot has happened in the last few days.” She turned her head back to the ocean, staying in silence for a time. She inhaled deeply before forming her next words. “Listen I…I want to thank you for all that you’ve done. I know it was orders for a reward, but you’re done more than your fair share and I am grateful.” She chewed on her lips for a moment, hesitant to say what was on her mind but feeling that she owed him the choice. “You didn’t sign up for a war. As this may very well turn out to be. I’ll remember everything you’ve done and if I survive this trial, I’ll be sure to reward you for all your trouble. “With that said I…” she lowered her eyes down a bit more, turning her head further from him and nesting her face within the black curtain of her locks. “I understand if you wish to part when we dock. I’ll send way whatever treasures and information I can if I survive, but you’ve done your duty. You shouldn’t risk your life for more than you bargained for.” She swallowed the lump of sand within her throat and quickly came to a stand, looking down at him determinedly and with a brave smile on her face. She attempted to let him know she would be fine with whatever decision he made. In truth, though parting with him would ache her heart, she'd be happy to know he was safe. “But I do need one more favor from you before then.” Her finger curled up in hesitance but then then she walked towards him. Her body leaned forward, fabric and breasts draping over him suggestively for just a moment before she suddenly withdrew back, bringing one of his shorter blades with her. She backed up, taking on a mimicry dueler’s stance of complete inaccuracy. “Please, teach me how to fight with a blade!”
  11. Dragons Are Forever

    As the dragons announced their submission, Natasha crossed her arms with a small victorious grin. Her eyes on Alexandria as the dragon nuzzled her cheek and endorsed laughter that she couldn't help but find pleasant to hear. She then turned to her dragon, knocking him affectionately on the muzzle. “You’ve proven yourself to be a real warrior.” The dragon’s eyes glinted at the praise. “And a name. I shall call you Durzol! Is one that strives with passion.” Durzol flared his nostrils and stomped his talons triumphantly, extending his large head to the air and releasing a waves of flames. Pride in another was a rare feeling that Natasha had come to discover, but it was bursting with the sight of her dragon. She found kinship with her beast tamer brethren, understanding the temptation to bond with wild creatures. Marquise was still an idiot, but she understood a fragment of his idocracy. "Let's get the heck outta here." Natasha nodded sharply. She mounted her steed and grasped the chain upon his neck. Before any additional motions could be made, a strange sound suddenly rang around them. It sounded like a thousand crepitiations merging together to make a shower of rain. Vibrations rolled underneath their feet and pebbles began fall from the caverns ceilings and walls, dislodged from tiny fissures forming all around them. The dragons were recovering from the effects of the smoke at this point, the flow of wings and battle additionally diverting concentration of smoke. The sound completely unnerved them, many looking around and releasing growls, snarls, and croon sto the change of environment. “Oh.” Marquise suddenly said as he looked into the changes of the walls. “About that.” Natasha threw him a look. “What now?” “Them spiders have been preeeetty busy. I ran into about five more of them nests on the way here. Lit some of them on fire, but these bugs are likely nesting all throughout the mountain. Even ran into some already hatched little ones.” Natasha slowly narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?” “Saying that they're eggs are probably implanted into the very structure of this place. And that sound means they hatching. Talking millions of hatching spiders suddenly distorting the honeycombs these dragon here made. Probably already did away at their mums and hungry nice big source of food.” “So you’re saying—“ “We gotta get the fuck outta here.” As if on cue, waterfalls of black came from the open caverns, consisting of countless spiders the size of a human hand. The dragon reared in alarm and fear as every cavern rained with these spiders and began to flood the floors. The dragons closest to the cave, still mildly drugged from the smoke, did not react nearly quick enough and were covered in the black. Cries of dragon drowning in the spiders began to echo around them. Not to mention the falling debris was worsening as were the fissures. Being at the center of the hive, they had time, but not much. “We have to go!” Natasha yelled out and immediately shot into the skies with her dragon. “Syvos needs to lead the dragons out!” Some of the dragons were panicking rising into the air on their own. Some fought, spitting waves of flames, puddles of acid, and strikes of electricity to hold off the front brigandage of spiders. The numbers were overwhelming, spiders crawling over their scorched, melting, and shocked siblings to reach the goal. Others made attempted to escape without clearing the spiders and were pelted down by their grabbing limps, weighed and eventually falling into the swarm. The exits were lessening, plugged with panicking dragons trying to escape. Syvvos needed to take control fast. Natasha took Durzol to the largest and closest opening, commanding him to release flames from a safe distance. The flames burned the spiders in the opening, temporarily clearing the way. But more were coming to replace it. Durzol released another wave of fire. The dragons were limited on their breaths, as it spent energy and food. But Durzol kept the opening clear until Syvos could lead the dragons through. They to escape not only the rain of spiders lining the cavern, but the collapsing mountain itself.
  12. Talons and Wings, It's a Witch Thing

    As the witches reached the door of the tower and placed their hands on the handle, a sudden shuffling occurred behind the material. Leaning on the outside of the tower was Ferrah, crossing her arms and decisively looking away from them as they crossed the threshold. They didn’t speak to her and that was fine, she didn’t care what they had to say anyways. It’s not like she was just pressing her ear on the door in attempt to listen in. Or that she became increasingly frustrated when she couldn’t hear anything. It wasn't like that at all. That's what she would later say to the orcs that stared her down in the courtyard below. She grunted under her throat and followed after them silently, shoving her hands back into her cargo pockets as she did. Guess it was time for round two. The tunnels didn’t change their freezing signature, in fact it only seemed to worsen. The black rocky terrain ,in raining droplets of melting air, the cold from the dragon's prison sweating into water when it met the feverish bowels of the volcano. However, thin layers of ice dominated the floors the deeper they went. Her winter atmosphere kissed the stone and the entire mawl became increasingly seduced by the dragon’s magic, blushing with frost. The violet flames of the torches that burst to life upon their entry reflected off the ice and danced whimsical and hypnotic around them, the coven's magic twirling the dragon's in a beautiful dance of imagery. They approached the electric bars of the dragon’s prison. The metal sparked with spontaneous crepitations and sibilant admonitions to all oncomers. Luna’s journal mentioned her theory of the dragon’s likely weakness to the electrical arts, it appeared her hunch was accurate and kept the dragon as bay. For now. Oscillating thunder within the earth began immediately manifested as they approached, followed by the sudden slither of cerulean, silver, and black scales across the archway of the prison. Ferrah stood by the lever, awaiting their orders to open the gates if they so boldly decided to brave the inside of the dragon’s chamber. If so, she obeyed as obligated despite her internal objections, but if not they would meet the dragon outside the bars. It lurked passed the vision of the doorway circled once, then lowered its head into their view. Her cerulean eyes, shining with the snowflakes of winter under the dawn, gazed at them. You’ve returned. Her maw opened with the display of glimmering fangs, the croon of the beast flowing within an intense hot breath that immediately banished the thin layer of cold haunting their skin. Her psionic voice was old but beautiful like the song of a violin swaying melodically and gracefully through the metaphysical .syntax. Morwenna reflected within her eyes, and then Jadis. And you’ve brought another. And with her I hope more answers. She seemed calm, but there was a quiver in her muscles. The dragon seemed hold a longing to released a very coiled spring deep within. Needless to say, she was tense.
  13. Act, and Witches will act.

    The Matriarch turned her head as Namiko approached her. Even when blinded from colors and shapes, her sister's magical light was unmistakable. She closed her eyes slow as Namiko cupped her cheeks; the skin was hard, cool, but smooth like porcelain within her grasp. She smiled, taking comforting in the both the warmth and the symbolism behind it. “I’m alright, my sister” she whispered and as she placed one of her own hands upon her sister's. “I believe the orc carried us here. The Great Spirits must be in our favor, for we have reached Dougton.” "More will come. I can feel it..." To this the Matriarch released a long sigh and nodded her head slow. “ I fear you are right. I had another premonition, my lack of strength hindered us from sharing it, but you seem to have a magical eye of your own.” Her misty eyes couldn't help but twinkle at this beautiful and exquisite fact. Namiko was a gem. Last night the Matriarch got to witness an ounce of her shine. She knew it could be, would be, even brighter. “The dark figures seem to be not of this living world, they die and birth within that sheet of monstrous black we witnessed in the skies.” She paused to think for a moment. “In fact...I would even suspect them to be sentient avatars. Perhaps lost souls or living puppets of some other manifested iniquity.” As the words slipped from her tongue, the Matriarch thought of the grotesque demonic hand raining down from the skies to smite out Namiko’s light. The witch felt as if her dangling body over the cliff-side would have been a far easier target. Was it after Namiko because it sensed the same threatening potential? The white witch sighed and tightened her fingers upon Namiko’s knuckles. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Suddenly the peace of the room was disturbed by a sudden noise within the clinic. Through the barricade of the door, it appeared to be panicked yelling, surrounding by a clamor of other voices trying to subdue it. “Please stay calm! Calm yourself!” They managed to hear through the wood. Then the door suddenly opened and the elderly doctor was back within the room. “Excuse me," he began in a hurried and worried voice. "Not to be a bother but... Would your, uh, orc partner be of assistance to me? We could really use some muscle to calm a patient.” Kana opened her eyes to the words, slowly uncrossing her arms and glancing up with a sneer at the old man. A visible bead of sweat trembled down the side of his temple, but as the struggling voices behind him intensified, he held his ground. The Matriarch, feeling slightly thankful to his kindness, said something in orc and jerked her head towards the voice of the doctor. Kana frowned deep, stood, and followed after the man. The Matriarch was silent for a moment as felt something cold drifting into the room through the doorway. Her magic sensitive eyes picked up a demented color slithering in the void like a venomous snake. “I think we should go too,” she suddenly said. “Something doesn’t feel right.” It took her a moment to stand; the blindness was always more apparent when she was enervated. As she moved, the Bodyguard outside the window grunted loudly and disappeared from view. Her nude pale feet touched on the floor and she stood with a small quiver in her thighs. The doctor had removed her metallic boots from edge of the bed. She stepped her feet around for a moment, seeming to do a silly tap dance before she paused and her white cheeks colored into a light pink. “Will you...help me find my shoes? And take me where the orc went?”
  14. Dancing Through Deserts

    Sounds of ocean clamor and men at work oscillated all around the slumbering princess, threatening to lure her from her slumber. It was ultimately waved off by the winds of her own exhaustion. The princess caught deep within her enervation, her stillness was heavy down to the very strands of her long and normally whimsical hair. Her breaths were deep and her eyelids twitched with rapid eye movement curtained beneath them. She was dreaming. -- Deep within the confines of Wastelands, hidden underneath many layers of earth, a magical sun illuminated the kingdom she knew so well. Its golden hues showered from the heavens and spread warmth upon a young child running through a field of brunette grass and sand. Her raven hair shimmered violet in the brilliance of the light, but it too was outshone by her bedazzling smile and jubilant energy. The child spread her arms and twirled about, a white dress flying from her thighs like a blossoming flower and mouth filling with air with nectar smooth laughter. “Mom, look they're growing!” Outstretched from the bronze swaying field were golden stems. Their bulbs winked gently into the sky with a glowing glint of violet light. The child knelt down, staring gleefully and eagerly at one near her feet. Behind her came a tall and extravagant woman, strands of a similar night sky hair flowing down like a river to her ankles before it folded back up into an extravagant silk bow. A diamond tiara rested on her crown, indicating her royalty, and her hazel eyes held an unfathomable grace and kindness. She knelt down, planting a slender hand on the child’s head and rubbing the strands. “Indeed they are. Soon they will have absorbed enough of the sun’s magic to come into full blossom. We will be able to use them to cure soldiers wounded in battle.” “They’re good flowers, huh mama?” “Very good.” “I wish I could see them now…” The queen stared down at her daughter for a moment. Her calm eyes glimmered with contemplation before she reached her hand over the flower. She closed her eyes and her hand brightened into a golden color before spilling in ribbons into the flower. The hidden pedals twitched and pulsed before gliding out and revealing an exquisite lily shaped beauty. A luminescent glow drifted from the heart of the flowers like small embers of a fire. Its vivacious flush spread upon the little girl's cheeks and seduced form her sheer joy. “Mom! Mom!” she exclaimed between her frivolous giggling. “It’s so beautiful!” Her mother didn't answer her and she glanced back. Her joy melted into bewilderment when she saw her mother hunched over and clenching her chest with deep and strained breaths. The child stood. “Mom…?” “I’m alright…” she whispered but then stumbled. Immediately a man was there, his arms wrapping around her slender body and holding her close. The king stared down at his wife, his eyes bright with concern. “What happened?” He asked, then glanced over at his child and the bloomed flower behind her. His brows furrowed and he looked back to the queen, disgruntled. “You know you’re not supposed to use you magic...It’s aggravates your--” “I’m fine, dear.” She interrupted, forcing herself away from him and standing on her own. “It’s worth it. Every moment counts with her…Now more than ever.” She whispered sadly. The queen then turned her face back to the child and mustered up a strong smile. The child blinked a few times and then returned the smile, turning back to the flower. “Dad! Look, it’s so pretty! Mom did that!” The King at first didn’t look at the child, but remained focused on his wife. Eventually he released a long breath then gazed at his beaming innocent little girl. She was like a mirror of her mother. He too smiled. “Yes...It’s very beautiful.” --- Cecilia opened her eyes slow, the sea immediately filling her senses with its salty smell and rolling voice. She sat up, the covers and locks rolling off her body as she glanced around to regain her bearings. She was on a boat. Her minded tumbled over itself for a moment trying to figure out why. The memories of the night before came rolling back into light, as did the reality behind it. Right, she told herself, they were on the captain’s boat sailing to the land of her kingdom...to her murderous father. Her cerulean hues lifted to the sound of a swinging hammock and found themselves on the slumbering Tyveres. He was still there with her. After everything they went through, he didn't leave her on the docks. Her eyes lowered shamefully to her thighs and she folded her hands together in a tight clench. Why was she dragging him along with her now? He had his own objectives and goals, did not sign up for a rebel’s war with an entire empire, but fought riches and resolution. She didn’t force him to go, but she also didn’t give him an out to leave. Her mind drifted to below the inn, where he held her so close and told he he would see her to the truth. She wanted him too. She felt selfless because she didn’t want him to leave her. The heavy thoughts weighed on her chest and stomach and she found herself quickly leaving the cabin and up the stairs to the deck. The sun was warm and bright, countered by the cool winds of the sea. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, finding the open air comforting to her cluttered mind. Ahoy!” came the soaring old man’s voice from above. Cecilia turned and looked up, finding the captain on the wheel and waving his calloused hand to her. The princess rose her own hand and too waved back, smiling calmly. She found him comfortingly and fatherly, giving her a sense of nostalgia to her childhood. Her father was once a kind man when her mother was alive. He was strong, firm, but always fair. Her mother's eyes used to sparkle with such love when he held her. Cecilia slowly frowned, looking back to the ocean. That all changed when her mother died. Cecilia went back to her dream, reflecting it as she sat on the edge of the boat and leaned onto the railings. Those were her mother's last months alive. Her memories of her childhood were few and far in between, perhaps she too was affected by the death of her mother. She rose her hands up to her arms and hugged herself. She remembered some aspect of misery about losing her mother, but soon she was showered so much attention, lessons, and gifts from everyone that time began to darken and blur. However...when her mother died, she remembered not seeing much of her father in the following years. She assumed it was due to the sudden upraise of duties and battles. Her father became the bravest of his generation because he rode into battles himself. He was praised and reveled as a man of his people down to the blade of his sword. Between her lessons and his battles, she barely crossed him. Perhaps all the thoughts and opinions of her father were truly behind a blind veil of tales and stories from the kingdom itself. Even lies. She folded her knees up to her chest and rested her chin upon the caps, staring out into the shining ocean. The thoughts about her mother and father swelled up within her eyes and spilled down the curves of her eyes in the forms of tears. She angrily wiped them away.
  15. Dragons Are Forever

    “Natasha watch my back!” The she-orc could have rolled her eyes at this request if she had any level humor during this battle. Of course she would watch over the witch, not a force on earth would harm Alexandria so long as she had watchful eyes upon… Suddenly the witch froze over. So did Natasha’s mind. The lack of comprehension of what was happening whirled around chest and stole her breath as she stood there like a statue herself for a whole two seconds, eyes slowly widening. Then like a released coiled, she rushed over to the witch. “Alexandria!” Her own distressed toned was unfamiliar, along with the tightness of her chest and debilitating sensation that she couldn’t take deep enough breaths to supply the maelstrom of apprehension suddenly within her body. She instantly reached and grasped the witch’s shoulders. Rigid and hard under the ice. The magic quickly threatened to glaciate her own hands. Instinctively she withdrew, eyes narrowing before she took Alexandria’s dropped axe to break the winter imprisonment away. Then she remembered the soft flesh underneath. Her arms trembled hauntingly before she dropped it in clanging defeat. Standing within the aura of Alexandria’s magic, her own breath began to fog and icicles grew on her heavily armed boots, but she didn’t move. Bewilderment and confusion piled on her shoulders with the weight of the world and her fists clenched to draw blood from her palms. “Alexandria! Alexandria!” She felt she had no control of her actions, like she couldn’t stop yelling her name. “AUUGH AUUUGH” Her dragon roared on the sidelines of the battle, circling Syvos and the alpha’s arena with desire to intervene but not doing so. They were both originally apart of the pack and knew the rules. Even with some dragons didn’t abide it. Still Natasha’s emotion made him roar out desperately for Syvos’ win and the threat that if the alpha harmed her, he would have his wrath to deal with. The magic that the witch was conjuring was beyond the alpha. He was the king of his own domain and a strong bag of willpower and strength, but he was absolutely nothing within Alexandria’s game. The ringing hooks of Kibeth’s death claw possessed him easily, there was no way he would escape it. It announced his death before Syvos even dealt her final blow. The thunder dragon collapsed in a display of fading sparkles and blood. Syvos perched and Natasha’s dragon roared triumphantly with her. When Alexandria dragged herself from the frozen rivers, she’d find her body encased in a tense cocoon of strength. Dark sinuous muscles were around her, a hand firmly on the small of her back and the other clenched tightly within her exposed crimson hair. Her face was compressed against the charcoal skin between the she-orc’s chin and breasts. Natasha’s rapid and warm breath cascaded down the witch’s cheek and her heart thumped rapidly into her ear. It was the only thing the orc could think of to not lose her to the cold. When Alexandria moved, Natasha's grip loosened, drawing back far enough so she could look down at the frost covered witch. The own gathered flakes drifted her from raven strands and fell into a minuscule space between their breaths. Her face was stoic and hard as usual, but her eyes luiminous with something other than her usual bloodlust. “You’re okay, now?” Her words were in orc, perhaps because she forgot her second language. Suddenly the sound of barking hounds filled the air. “AUUUUUGH!” The sudden thump of a body landing in the battlefield threw Natasha’s attention away. Marquise landed from a cliff side above, axes out and ready to fight. From the ground level openings, his seven hounds came running into the fray, barking madly. In one swift motion, Natasha released the witch and stood up. “Where’s the alpha!” Marquise yelled out. Then he actually noticed the scene and slowly lowered his axes. He then scratched his hand dumbly. Natasha, walking away from Alexandria glowered at him. “Alpha’s dead. Marquise.” She began. “You were too slow.” Marquise glanced at Natasha, then looked at Syvos perched in all her glory. “Damn.” He spatted out with a grunt. “Got distracted.” “By what?” In truth she didn’t care, but Marquise provided the perfect distraction. Marquise had a sheepish look then glanced up at his own wild mesh of hair before whistling. From the tangled disaster popped a small black dragon head. It crooned cutely then slithered down Marquise’s thick neck like a scarf. Natasha slowly blinked. “Little guy was‘bout two second from being spider meat. Was standing up to it like he was fifty feet tall! Got no fear this one!” Natasha blinked a second time. “Decided I’m gonna raised this dragon to be his own alpha!” He roared and the little dragon roared too, a teeny tiny spark dancing between his fangs. Marquise grinned and flexed his muscles. Then a piece of his rock hit him on the side of the head. “You’re a fucking idiot!” Natasha said and lowered her outstretched hand. “You beast tamers have no damned brains at all!” “What’s your problem!” Marquise exclaimed back, rubbing his temple and his temper rising. “Since when do you give a shit about back up!” Natasha was quivering in anger. “I don’t!” She charged him. Marquise was forced to block her gauntlets with the blade of his axe, the aggression daunting his logic before he countered and the two started fighting like spatting lions. Marquise's hounds came running to his rescue but were intercepted by a growling dragon. Luckily, the exchange was brief. Marquise threw Natasha off him before her blade could pierce his neck. If Alexandria yelled for them to stop, it likely ended even sooner. The two growled angrily at each other, but did not attack again. The orcs were easy to anger, but it came in short deadly bursts. It left Marquise’s lip swollen and Natasha’s arm bruised. “You’re not yourself Natasha…” Marquise through panted breaths. “I’m fine.” She spat back. Marquise grunted and walked away, whistling for his hounds to stop snarling at Natasha’s dragon. They ran after him. Natasha brushed the dust off her shoulders, frustrated internally. He was right, normally she wouldn’t have cared. That pissed her off more. Her dragon approached her and she glanced at it. He crooned. “Don’t sound so weak, I’m fine.” Her rude tone didn’t phase him and he nuzzled her under her arm. “Ugh, I said I’m fine!” She yelled trying to push his insistent muzzle away. The sudden sound of the dragons stirring around them stopped the exchange. The winged beasts were opening their eyes and rising. Now it was up to Syvos. She defeated the alpha, now it was time for her to claim her leadership. Hopefully enough dragons followed her to start the new herd Luna desired.
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