She had heard it spoken, a gentle caress of an otherworldly voice upon her ear, setting a warm shiver down her spine. The god was no longer chained and tucked away from the waking world. She would find herself sleeping with more frequency if only to perhaps hear them speak once more, to send out her plea to Kivuli for direction, for whatever she might do to aid them. Was this deity she sought? Surely it must be him.. the dark one.

A living creature could not live in the sleeping world forever, the pallid creature still needed to eat, explore and socialize, though the latter was of lesser importance in her mind. She had company in the form of a little owl, hardly as large as other species of her kind. Her bleached body made for poor hunting, and so the creature had come to rely on Yurei for food, and in exchange, she warned the blind lioness of approaching danger. A working relationship and one in which there was no need of verbal interaction.

The albino owl would sail with silent grace through the air, the sound of flapping wings faint in Yurei's ears, unlike the torn rasping of other birds as tattered and stiff feathers as they beat the air. Below, the lioness would move with similar grace, each step careful and unnatural in the eyes of an observer. Those who could see walked without thought or care, the ghostly girl felt her way through the world, committing to memory things of significance about the soil tread upon.

So the pair would go, iridescent specters lit in the cold blue of moonlight upon a dark and drab stretch of land. It would prove hard to miss them, provided anyone would wish to be out here on a cold winter night. She had been here once before and had elected not to join a pride at the time. Perhaps she should reconsider, if only to understand the novelty of it, of these strangers not born to Amaryllis._{BG — ART — CODE}

The sand that he kicked up with each paw as he walked along the lines of the edge of the world, only drew him closer and closer to what had brought him here. Unaware of the blind lioness at first, the seeress that he had spoken to so many moons ago and had learned briefly about another deity that could be residing in Amaryllis outside of Maua. A deity he barely knew of to begin with let alone worshiped or prayed to. But he had been curious about @Yūrei's own deity at the time and found that he may be even more curious now that it seemed that the dark one was awake and ready to create chaos in the world they all knew as peace.

Bloodied jewels scanned the land before him as he walked through the Passage, his eyes catching the sight of a bird flying and the faint sound of wings flapping. It was a curious thing to see a creature flying out in the passage, there wasn't much out here that could offer them any food but then he noticed the creature below. A familiar figure that he hadn't seen in a good minute was walking with the bird - an owl - and it drew him closer.

This is a pleasant surprise. He would muse to her with a rumbling purr in the deep hollows of his chest as he walked up beside her knowing that she was blind, Adeodatus had made plenty of noise to make her aware of his presence near her. Is this where your deity wishes you to be, in an land full of hounds ready to claim such a delicious meal? Would she understand his words, the meaning behind them?

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus

The route of his body brushed against the frayed tassle-head sward of the passage dunes, an amble of duty and care in twine. A humble gait - Gauthier is wolven, a rugged sentry through the pass of shadow and shrouding vespers in their indigo pull; each step decisive in the crumbling sands, the painstaking avoidance of pestilent sandburs. From the haphazard rockfaces of the southern mountains to the blizzard-encrusted north, the passage had remained, of all his years spent in Amaryllis, his least favorite terrain to rough.

But perhaps it made a kinship born of the same disdain worth exploring in the name of strengthening his company. Others had sought fit the grueling drudgery of traipsing the cursed landbridge for certain purpose - he was loathe to think of himself any less dutiful.

A break to the monotonous terrace of windswept grasses over furrowed sands, he ducked his head beneath the quiet swoop of broad wings, a raptorous bodice of an owl stark against the backset of dusk. Its pirouette made a spectacle of grace that shamed the usual entry of gull or diving swallow, however out of place - Gauthier paused, considering, before following its pale form over the ridge of dune.

In the tangle of coastal trees and the shivering tread of night, two silhouettes rose from the drear scarp; one, familiar.

Gauthier drew to a distant cross-path, listening idly to the coming resonance of their conversation, however late to its motive. --full of hounds ready to claim such a delicious meal? He tilted the slope of his skull, an awry smirk rippling its breadth across the line of his dark lips. Beside the ashen form of his cousin, the pale line of a striped spine slunk alongside, belying a grimly beauty. Ghoulish likeness, his eyes tread the pallid mask of her hollowed features, the moon-eyed dance of her gaze. Delicious indeed, though he is not one of those mentioned hounds. The heathen king came for compatriots, not prisoners or harems.

He is not a creature that seeks to mince words or gild finery by a bardish expression of self-greatness and worth, some sweeping gesture of royalty, the brandish of gloating grandeur. It seemed that it would be a waste of a good peacock show, as it is. He chuffed an acknowledgement instead, that which would also serve for ample announcement. Perhaps other sovereigns would seek the ranks of more brawny, bolder recruits in the passage, but Gauthier is wisened to the skill of otherwise statures: he did not need the sole steel brigade of soldiers. What he needed was loyalty, cleverness, and merciless initiative. Intrigued piqued, he would begin with @Yūrei.

He nodded to @Adeodatus, but concerned himself with the macabre charm of his consort. What do you seek? he asked of her through the fold of fog and moonlight, his voice swept with the distant roar of ocean, cut through the howl of the gale. Home? Or harem?_{BG — ART — CODE}

The arrival of others would come in time, and she would be alerted to their presence well ahead of time, thanks to the disquiet clicking of an owl's beak. She often reacted to lions in this way, perceiving them as the threatening predators that they were, even if Yurei seemed to transcend that role for her. With that, the owl would climb high and move in wide lazy circles, eyeing the strangers below.

This first was @Adeodatus, a lion she had encountered once before and predicted crossing paths with again, something that had now come to fruition. His words seemed conversational, but was it only that? Are you one of these hungry hounds then? She questioned. Was he here to claim her as opposed to extending an invitation.

While he smelled as one crawling out from a muddy bog, the next to arrive had a very distinct scent of his own. He smelled of sand and sea salt, as only a native to ocean-side property might have. Attention would shift to @Gauthier in full as he arrived with a question.. a difficult one to answer without a long moment of consideration. I desire many things. I desire to prove myself before a deity of sin. I desire power. I desire comradery with those who make the masses tremble. A bit much to be looking for in a place like this? Perhaps, but he had not asked what she sought in a pride, but in general.

She could be of value to those with ambition and a stomach for cruelty. She could play the part of a fragile girl with a good and caring soul, eager to mend wounds and feed the hungry. Never mind if king she serves is your enemy, she would still be sure to give you a warm and inviting smile as she served you your poison-laced meal._{BG — ART — CODE}

Not even a few minutes after he had arrived another arrived. One he was familiar with and rather disgruntled with but it seemed that his cousin had found himself a crown. Adeodatus was curious to know if @Gauthier had actually won himself a crown or had it just been handed to him. But currently, that wasn't the subject of attention as he would glance back towards @Yūrei with a grin on his face at her words. And if I am?

His question was a curious one and somewhat sarcastic at the same time as he would glance over towards his cousin. As of right now, he was not sure if their homes were allies or enemies and Adeodatus would gladly fight him for her. In his eyes, Yurei was his and his alone. Aside from her deity of course, that was something Adeodatus would not take from the blind woman. You can find that in the Mire, and much more. He would state towards her as he stayed at her side, curious to know what his cousin would do. No, Adeodatus had not set out a proper claim but oh he would gladly change that.

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus

midnight mass
a crimson pool so warm and deep
lulls me to an endless sleep

I desire many things. Her words, trailing and effeminate, yet mirror his own with a stunning familiarity. It makes him turn a listening ear, even more intent. To him, there is no more pure a sensation than voracity, hunger. He is consumed by it, that yearning ache deeper than flesh, blood, marrow. She desired power. Comradery with those who would make the masses tremble. Fortunate for her. The Cove was small in numbers, but that only made his ambitions more vast, more ravenous.

Adeodatus is swift to answer by the name of the Mire. Gauthier's eyes alone turned to his cousin, rolled over the nuance of possession. The woman held her charms, and he could not fault him - but Gauthier is not so assertive for numbers than he is for quality, skill.

He raised his skull, gaze stead on @Adeodatus, assessing. Calculative, cold, and adroit; he had ever enjoyed the taste of competition with Amaroq, but it had never wagered over any living being. Alaric is a venerable king in the Mire. he mused, his stare unwavering, his voice low, balanced. I'll never discredit his power, as witness and confrère.

Though he had not yet held council with Alaric since acquiring the Cove, they had time and time again found their desires aligned. He held a stolid confidence in the realm of their friendship as well as the remarked prowess of the warrior king, no matter the rank and blather of his enemies.

His eyes flicked back to the cold emptiness of her own, brow furrowed. If she had survived this long blind with naught but the company of an owl, she had done well enough in whatever her talents lay. Her spoken ambitions spelt promise. Caladan is yet new and sparse in number. But I have bled for it. And any who mark themselves my enemy will feed its ground. A promising gloom - he leans into the prospect of it, tongue rolled in the anticipation of taste, indulgence, woven between the sharpness of his fangs. All I ask of my liegemen is equal ambition and hunger, nothing less. Nothing less.

Unaware of his cousin's affinity or intentions, he let the offer be. He would not claim a soul unless it benefitted him in the leagues of war - her value was her own, uninhibited by stature, talents, or gender. All good force did was create prisoners, and there was not yet reason for the role of a jailer. He needed equals. He needed those who yearned for the world as edaciously as he did. Did @Yūrei crave it? The violence? The treasures of supremacy?

_{BG — ART — CODE}

There was a long and drawn-out silence on her end, taking in their words and considering her options, or potential lack of them. Both had something of value to offer, though the word of a king held more significants to her than a lesser lion speaking on his king's behalf. Who was this Alaric they both spoke of? Did he have in him the desirable traits that would appease her dark and unstable nature? Was he a follower of Maua? Was @Adeodatus truly putting a claim on her and all these musings were for naught?

I am intrigued by both prides, it would be difficult to choose if our bog lion is indeed giving me the option. Head would turn towards Adeodatus as she said this, an instinctive action despite it having little purpose for a blind lioness.

Perhaps there was a better, more amusing way to resolve all of this. Fighting prowess is significant if you intend to strike fear and awe into the hearts of your subjects. If you wish me to fight for either of you, I would have you fight for me. She announced, a challenge more for @Gauthier, as she was certain the other was already prepared to, considering he spoke of potentially forcing a claim._{BG — ART — CODE}

Listening to @Gauthier speak about Alaric and it caused his ears to flatten slightly on top of his head. That was the one thing that Adeodatus had not seen in person, and that was Alaric fighting but he would take his cousin's words for it, for now at least. But the way he was hearing Gauthier explain the way he was going to rule was not unfamiliar. It sounded similar to his own ideas and traits but who could say. They were born of a different thread, a different bloodline and therefore, not all of their traits were the same. But his attention went back towards @Yūrei as she spoke of claiming and he would chuckle, even though Alaric's own pride was willing to force claim another that was against his ways. Freedom is something he treasured. No, you can choose. Even if she didn't choose his own pride, he was sure that they would eventually run into each other. I have seen how you work, and fighting is not something I would ask of you. He would admit to her then. They had met once before.

Art and Code by Cloudy

midnight mass
a crimson pool so warm and deep
lulls me to an endless sleep

I would have you fight for me. Gauthier laughed a shameless boom of trickling fire-tongue, delight woven in the gleam of his sharpened teeth. It is not that he doubts the woman's abilities - but to be remiss of the display of her talents in the empty-handed exchange of his own was risible to him. I have proven and will prove myself enough before the end. It is unavoidable. he returned lowly, wolfish clamor. Thrones were exchanged for one passion and the next, and fate had a whimsical pluck of humor in violence. Perhaps in the spring, Caladan would even wash away with the next great storm as it had done for him. Until his head was ripped from his shoulders, he would encounter enough fighting to please the spirit of war.

It is a curious thing, what @Adeodatus provides to the conversation. That @Yūrei would not be expected to fight - that he had seen otherwise work, a sidled talent. Gauthier narrowed his eyes, his grin diminished into the shadow of a calloused vex. Tell me why you are worth fighting for. It is my blood, after all, that would be spilled in your name. It is not arrogance or some reigning pride that fills his voice with conjecture - it is evolving expectation. He wouldn't mind testing his cousin, as it was. He knew his cousins' disdain for him and his past transgressions, and knowing their strengths may serve him finely enough. But he was not here for giving displays of violent grandeur for the patter of applause - he was here to bolster the strength of a kingdom, and it would not be done playing part as a jester.

_{BG — ART — CODE}

It would seem @Gauthier had no desire to actually fight for her, at least not without more of a reason. It was a pity really, but not because she was so vain to believe all males should readily sacrifice themselves to appease her. Yurei merely enjoyed the sounds and smells of battle, a gift for the dark deity she so adored. You require a reason to fight? Is there no pleasure in the simple act for you? She spoke with mock disappointment. As for @Adeodatus, she would disagree that he truly knew her and her ways. She was more capable in a fight than he might know, and she wasn't opposed to it. Perhaps he would learn in time, which would be more amusing than outright telling him and spoiling the surprise.

Very well.. if you must have a reason.. She would begin in a defeatist tone, searching her mind for a list of what made her valuable to mortal lions. I would serve well as a spy or an assassin to whomever you wish. A tiny and blind lioness will always be underestimated, more so one that enjoys the game. I can hunt, I can breed and most importantly, my devotion to the dark deity that may one day move across these lands like a plague might grant you mercy in exchange for all I do for him. There was no proof that she could influence the mind of an old god, but surely they had both felt his ominous presence lately.

What else could they want in a lioness? Most would be contented with just her ability and willingness to have cubs someday as good enough if they regarded her gender as a means to carry on their seemingly precious name and genes._{BG — ART — CODE}