Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Live (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=17) +--- Forum: The Chamber (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +--- Thread: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] (/showthread.php?tid=8868) |
Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Lupei - 06-08-2016 lupei What the truth is, I can't say anymore RE: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Killdare - 06-11-2016 ± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
He remembers greatly and perhaps more importantly, vividly, the day she left. Killdare recalls the sight as if it were burned into his eyes, into his very memory and indeed, it was just that. Singed by great measure everlasting into his thoughts, branded there for eternity for him to mull over when the night came and his brain ruled his restlessness. It was not likely that he would soon ever forget when she had turned tail and left, he hind disappearing into the pines. Stock still he remained as she went, he could not call her back, he would not, not when she had cast him aside as though he were nothing and what is more- for a moment she had made even him believe that very thing. For a time he had succumbed to the pain he had caused himself, for a moment he was for all the world to see, ‘lost.’ Lost? A Chamberling? A King? Yes, even Killdare was subject to all things mortal, he was no God, he was no maker or undoer, not yet anyway. Would he ever be? It’s hard to say what may and may not come in the years but for now he was no longer somber over the leaving of Dacia. Killdare was a King, he had a country to preside over and somewhere deep within the reaches of Beqanna he had faced the power of her undoing him and decided he had not been undone after all. Who was his mistress? The Chamber. Who would always be that very thing? The Chamber. Oh, and a jealous and all encompassing thing she was, let him spurn her not for that in truth would be his final downfall. When the wolf comes the King does not ask why because he knows the sound, the edge of rippling guttural noises that issue forth from his savage maw. He doesn’t ask, nor does he proceed forth with haste, he would come as he pleased and he would receive the wolf at his door, make no mistake. It is true that even now the Magma Lord held no ill will to the boy was horse and lupine all the same- for now at least. Even as the creature snarled for him to come forth, even as he made demands that no King should follow.The hurt he may have unintentionally caused their family he had never sought, when Killdare had thought long and hard on the subject he was assured he would be just as angry. Well, perhaps with a different sister he would have been, Killgore was not an easy creature to love. Still, what was done was done and in the end what matters is that Killdare came, as was his duty. Steadfast and true to a fault, even Straia had seen it, had she seen how much hurt it would cause him too? Did she always know the price he would pay with his proverbial riches and glory? Surely she must have. Ash and dust purges itself from the nearest opening in the treeline, parting before the shapeshifter until Killdare molds into view.Charred and blackened, as he most often is, crackling beneath with the fires of the Earth and he simply stands before the younger man, bearing witness to the anger that washes over his raised hackles. “You have my attention Lupei, I will not pretend that I do not know why you are here.” KILLDARE magma King of the Chamber RE: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Malis - 06-18-2016 "we pull apart the darkness while we can" So when the wolf lopes unimpeded through the forests to the heart of the kingdom with the name of her king howled on his lips, she becomes wild. She catches a glimpse of them across the open clearing, bristling when she thinks she sees the wolf looks past Killdare to where she watches with her daughter, Victra. Without a moment’s hesitation she presses her lips to the curve of the bay and indigo girls ear, “Go find your brother, I’ll join you in a bit.” It must have been the waves of tension rolling off of Malis, of an almost tangible electricity crackling in the green of her wild eyes, but Victra left immediately, casting one curious glance in the direction of the wolf and her father before turning to disappear into the forest. Malis turned to join them immediately, a strange fluidity to her stride that belied the way her muscles coiled like furious snakes beneath the sleek indigo of her skin. It takes a moment to cross the clearing to where they stand, but she refuses to make a fool of herself by hurrying any fast than that languid walk. Instead she uses the time to absorb the scene unfolding before her. Killdare has his back turned to her, which she notes with tight-lipped smile that is gone again in an instant, so she has a long chance to take in the wolf standing in front of him with hackles raised. She doesn’t recognize him, but she wouldn’t, Malis had never met Lupei or any of the other shifters in the area. Nor does she realize he has any connection to the green mare who had so recently disappeared from the Kingdom. Perhaps if she had, the furious blue fire licking along his spine would make more sense. She joins them in the next instant, drawing alongside Killdare so closely that her skin ached from the heat. Her expression is dark and indistinct, the row of horns down her nose gleaming like a cold obsidian promise. Had she known that this was in part about her, that she had played a vital role in creating the fire that burned both within and without the black wolf, she might’ve stayed away. Instead she watches him with eyes as green as emeralds buried in a burned earth, offering him only her silence as she remained poised beside her King. MALIS makai x oksanaRE: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Lupei - 06-20-2016 lupei What the truth is, I can't say anymore RE: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Killdare - 06-21-2016 ± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ± The dog speaks and the King knows he will let him. A display of foolish youth, a boy having a tantrum and Killdare remains still as the growls wash over him. Every snarl curls past his flesh and sizzles when pressed near enough the skin until it is no more than smoke to the Chamber leader. He listens to the fit as it escalates and the only hint of reaction is the way the fire burns brighter within him, scorches the brimstone until it threatens to lose- and still he stands idle. Even when the beast crouches low, does Killdare only give him the satisfaction of his eyes, two blazing holes that follow each shift of the wolf’s weight with care. He had done this so many times before, perhaps not in this land but his Father’s teachings were not so dead. Acid spills heavily from the jagged snarl that spits like a cornered viper and the words fall short of the pain they might have once inflicted. “That is the mistake Lupei, Dacia is a woman grown.” he returns evenly, for he had once misjudged her youth as a sign of misunderstanding. He had hardly given the girl a chance to even accept the fact that he had never promised her monogamy. Killdare had offered no singularity in his love, he had simply offered his love, which in itself was a great deal of loyalty and meaning had she chosen to see it through. He had made no promise of riches or thrones but once that notion had crossed into realisation in her mind, well, it seemed to him she had never truly returned his feelings after all. As it stood, with the display of raised hackles before him, no doubt that Dacia had known Lupei would come- his love had never been enough for the color-changing woman. For a moment his skin roils at mention of Astri, as if he could ever forget the friendship of the mantis green mare. As if he could ever forget (now that it was much too late) that he had once loved her as well and never said the words. What he dislikes most is the vision in blue that curls up to him, far too close he thinks but he does not say it out loud. What he dislikes most are the names and taunts that fall unbidden from the dagger like teeth that form them. A pot calling a kettle black, a whore, when no doubt Lupei had his fair share of rolls in the hay. It was typical for a man to emblazon the scarlet letter against the woman’s chest wasn’t it? Lupei did not prove him wrong in that respect. “I’m sure you’ve had many, more than I dare count.” Killdare did not find shame in being choosy with the spread of his lines, the spilling of his seed but no doubt there would still be men in the world that would label him prude, or unmanly for it. And when the warnings end, when the boy has had his word and his game the Chamber King answers with his own. “Oh, I have listened to your display Lupei, now hear me.” he called, as instead of burning outright the liquid began to flow from his hooves, trickling towards the wolf with hunger. Below the ground shook, quaked, as the turf buckled in places and spouted forth the Earth’s fire like a spout. “You have overstayed your welcome Lupei, and are henceforth banished from the Chamber. Furthermore, Dacia can share your unwelcome. I am sorry to learn that her love had a price, came with want. Leave this place.” KILLDARE magma King of the Chamber RE: Who painted the lion? [Killdare/Malis] - Malis - 06-22-2016 "we pull apart the darkness while we can" Whore. The smile that slithers across her blue mouth is snakelike and cunning, and it does nothing to settle the way her eyes flash like green flame. “Whore?” She repeats in a voice that sounds like she’s thinking real hard for him, “Oh you must mean the one with all the grass stains. She’s gone.” She takes a languid step forward, turning her head slightly to peer back at her magma king, “My, my, they do seem awfully close.” A pause as she shifts her face to Lupei again, that smile lengthening along the satin of her lips. “I think he’s mad you beat him to it, love.” But there is something altogether different hidden just out of reach behind her eyes, tucked away so that the yippy mutt will never find it. Malis had never had a problem with the green woman Killdare had at one point loved. In fact once she found out about Dacia, she had been willing to leave them be. But Killdare was an intoxicating sort, and Malis a selfish creature, and as the green woman drifted away, Malis was swept closer. It is only by the wrath of the stupid wolf pacing before them that she finds any words at all to condemn someone she might otherwise have considered a friend. He demands her attention with a threat laced into the growl of his voice, and she gives it like knife to his forehead. All at once an inferno of blue and flame lap at the wolf, and the ground between them comes undone with the fury of her King. The heat is unbearable and she can feel her skin pinch and prickle, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes harden, bright and sharp as uncut emeralds, and she drops her chin so that the row of curved, obsidian horns flash molten in the firelight. “Come a little closer, princess, and I’ll show you just how good I am.” MALIS makai x oksanayou guys give me life <333 |