Sunsetter [Warship]

[Nymphetamine]

Nymphetamine

What a mess, everything was a mess, the raid that he wasn’t sure was worth the ware, the warning and subsequent loss of kingdom magic, nothing was right and nymph found himself unable to find his footing. For whatever reason he was on a downward spiral, unable to pull himself out the self-destructive behavior brought on by some odd aftershock of battle and godly intervention. It was mostly personal destruction, hyper-analysis of every sight and conversation between him and others, of Kimber and Warship.  Warship. The blood bay had not forgotten the sneer and scoff the black warrior shot his way at the kingdom meeting. That image had settled under his skin and festered spreading its toxic infection through him. Possessed him in a fever pitched haze that drowned him its obsession.

Nymphetamine wasn’t healed, not yet, and his body sore reality didn’t help his mood either, no all signs pointed to solitude, but Nymphetamine did not find solitude. No, in the days that followed the raid he went to search for Warship, and he had yet to be successful. Nah, the beast had gone back to the shadows or the mountains, but the bay would not have it,  Warship would face him and they would have it out. Last he actually spoke to Warship, he had been new to Chamber, a spy, and lowly ranked. The necromancer was defensive, hot-headed, and guarded before. Much had changed during the years the black stallion had slept away in the mountains, Nymphetamine was no longer a double agent or some lowly young thing. He was the Leader of the Peace Caste and a trusted valued member of Chamber, who had proven time and time again his loyalty to the Kingdom and its King. Warship was no longer “greater-than-thou” in the necromancer’s eyes but equals-- whether they liked each other or not. The Governor called out to the Advisor to show his face. Warship had left years ago, and Nymph would have an answer to the thought that had come to live under his skin. Nymphetamine was a mess, what happened next would surely be a tale for the story books.

Like a thorn to the Holy Ones

short and twisted, for dramz, and plot build up for mirsa boing boing time.  hahah

[Warship]

The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him

but because he loves what is behind him.

Life was infinitely easier hidden in the mountains.

He understood now why his panther father rarely wandered down and mingled with the others. Their lives were trivial, tainted with all things mortal and messy. Had it not been for the persistent nag of his one true mistress, he would have stayed on those out crops forever. But he couldn’t ignore her call, not when she had given so much to him. She was the only one who had never hurt him, or at least, not his heart. The Chamber had left that part of him relatively untouched. Others though…they had soured him on the notion of love. It was like bile to him now, hot and foul in the back of his throat. Time and time again he has had it in his grasp…time and time again he has lost it. Never one to beat his head against the brick wall, he had more than decided that enough was enough. For now, his heart would belong only to himself.

The muscle aches feel like home to him. He finds an odd comfort in the stiffness, a certain solace in the new scars. They show that he has lived his life for home and for kingdom. On his chest, the mark of his loyalty; a glowing infinity symbol. But deeper than the pain (and it is bone deep), is another ache. An ache on his heart, the kind that constricts his chest and his breaths with an iron-clad grip. The old warrior had all but sworn her off since coming down from the mountain, but then, he’d had the battle to distract him. Now her scent plagued him like a poison. It was everywhere, all-consuming his senses. But even more than that, was the scent of another. It mingled with hers in a way that made his nostrils curl in disgust. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about the bay stallion that made him angry, but there was something. Like a cat with its fur being stroked backwards. And who should he see, as he ventured slowly across the Chamber, but the offensive odor himself. Let it be known that Warship did not respond to the bay’s call; he was not a dog to be commanded at wish. Warship smirked, his eyes noting the scars now littering the bay’s gangly body. “Well well…look who got off the teat long enough to go for a battle. Well done.” His words were laced with venom, but his demeanor was calm. “You seem to have something eating at you, Nymphetamine. Please, do not hold back on my account.” he said. But then, cocking his head, let loose another spill of toxic words. “Or, you’ve stuck your nose in a pile of shit and that is the reason your face is screwed up in such a horrible fashion.” It had been a long time since Warship had been given an opportunity to vent his spleen, and the fact that the necromancer sought him out specifically made him the perfect target for an old stallions hateful tongue lashing.

warship

atrox x kill me well

lord of the chamber

[Nymphetamine]

Nymphetamine

Chamber had a way of keeping on, never once caring about the miniscule problems of it’s population. The land would cycle on grow and die and grow again while those who resided there came and went, and very few stood out, made a true impact on the their kingdom. Warship was one, Chamber knew Warship and she was his ever mistress.  So of course when Warship was injured Chamber healed him or at least kept his ancient heart beating, as Chamber would sure do for him again. Warship was just always going to be around forever--as long as his mistress would have him.

Nymphetamine should have known better than to call the cranky old man to him, or to deal with him at all. They weren’t exactly friends, especially after that whole Kimber thing. But heck they were all immortal now, so they could have the same argument for eternity. Either way Warship came, and Warship snarked.  Nymph gave his own half grin in sarcastic reply as the eternal bay spoke. ”Much has changed since the war, Old Man. It would be wise of you to take note before you misspeak” the blood bay wasn’t 2 anymore. He had frozen his path at the ripe age of 10, he was no longer so hot headed and bold he no longer hid secrets and ill will against Chamber, Chamber had made him great molded him into something more. And Warship would be wise to take notice, that he was not some pissant to be tossed aside. Nymphetamine had taken his licks and proven himself. Even if he had caused the fae to withdraw their protection from the Tree due to his involvement with the raid (or so he thought).

Everything felt a different now, the air was no longer ashy and infused with charred carbon the scent was missed by the bay and he wish it back but it never came. How long would it take for the fae to forgive them and bring the protection back to their tree. But until that happened Nymph would do everything he could to right the wrong. Chamber would be protected and he would see to it that his diplomats were running the gamut to hold their alliances strong and make sure they were informed with the state of affairs for those they were not. His mind was heavy with everything, and Warship was not one to back down from any confrontation. So it should not have been a surprise that Warship poked the already unhinged Governor. ”The only shit I’ve encountered was you, but I wouldn’t expect you to recognize your own stank, so I digress on that.” His eyes narrowed and he snorted at the older lord of Chamber. ”You left you know, and I’ve picked up the pieces you left behind. Did you even ever care, or was Kimber just some chase for you?”

If looks could kill Warship would be feeling death’s call at his door as Nymph’s eyes bore him down. While the necromancer had yet to make things work with Kimber, he still cared for her immensely and Warship had betrayed Kimber’s trust. Warship should answer for that, even if  Kimber never picked either of them. Beyond the issue of Kimber, Nymph felt the need to have Warship admit he was no longer a snot-nosed kid. Sure the bay’s approach was all wrong but who could expect the bay to have well thought out plans in the midst of a quarter-life crisis?

Like a thorn to the Holy Ones

OOC: so I started this post a month ago and its shorter than I wanted... but I finished it.   forgive it's disjointed bits.   But I'm back, hopefully!