Life hadn’t been kind to the clay lady and that was a story that was written scattered across her scared tattered body. From the large scar on her face that left her missing most of her memories, to the burn scars drizzled over her shoulders and back. The missing tail once beautifully long now just a healed up bob, a reminder that made her remember nothing for even that moment has faded though she does remember something about a battle between herself and another from it. Hell she even has a missing part of one of her ears. So much chaos was happening upon her, but she was alive despite it all. Even if every scar came from a loss the woman was still alive and that was a grand prize itself. Or so some would say.

As she had tried to figure things out she had recovered a small fraction of her memory from before that fateful day almost two full years ago in the Rainforest when she had hit her head and then fled in fear not remembering she was its queen and Nita trespasser left for dead. Though she remembered mostly feelings. Names, faces and places? Those still eluded her. So as she crossed the land bridge that led into Amaryllis she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Why did this place feel so familiar to her?

OOC NOTE; Feel free to claim her.

code by shelby

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

Vermier typically cared more for the scents of recruiters than the odors of the damned these days. Rogues had a habit of disappearing - before you could even eat them! - but those loyal to a pride tended to stay. He liked his machinations to last. Sniffing about for someone from the Bluffs to annoy, he found instead someone whose scent and memory had gone long before his. His rump swaying with the banner of an invisible tail, he merrily and obliviously rolled along. Across the sand and toward her face of horrific scars. He leered, he grinned, like a child finding a frog with a broken leg. He knew her. He expected something good from her. Cruelty and fear. "Euh cheri... histoire, she rhyme." Maybe he'd claim her but he expected rather to taunt and tease before maybe threatening her outright.

@Arjana

Here he was, back at the passage again.

It was odd to him, and honestly he was starting to grow fond to the idea of not doing this and just staying at home. He didn't need a big pride anyways- hell he'd be fine with it just being his family. Why not? He was just about to turn and make way back to his lands with that mindset, but then the scent of a lioness crossed his nose.

He arrived to see her accompanied by someone else - a male who... "What words are those?" He asks, the foreign language odd to his ears. Peering over, he eyes the lioness. Older, she certainly looked it by all the scars that covered her. She was missing a lot of limbs too. Scrunching his nose up mildly, he peers back to the first male. "She's yours?" He questions, after all... finder's keepers. First come first serve. Aeistrios was simple enough to respect that basic code of life.

@Arjana @Vermier

---

aeistrios saxe

code by scorpixia♡︎

Walking through the passage she wasn’t expecting company but it seemed that was what she was getting. Looking at the lion as he approached her she took in his scent and it made her hackles raise. The clay lady didn’t know why she was feeling such a way about @Vermier she simply did. Coming to a halt she just watched him, her chin tucked over her throat and ears pinned, but otherwise she had confidence in her stance. At his words a brow raised as she was even more confused than ever. “Sir do I know you?” She questioned calmly. About to ask more questions when @Aeistrios arrived and spoke to the first male. The second question asked had her scoffing. “I am no ones, but my own.” Lies she isn’t even her own as her own memories didn’t even want her. Looking between both males she couldn’t help but think how handsome they both were, but at the same time looks mean nothing when speaking like she was a mere object that belonged to someone.

code by shelby

He does not often come to the passage. He leaves it, now, to the younger generation, or to those ranked in the Mire. His sons have been here often, he knows, but today it is the wheat King that comes.

What he does not expect is to see a familiar figure, her markings impossible to miss. It had been ages since he had seen her but he had wondered, from time to time, what had come of the woman. Amaryllis changed so often he was hardly surprised that she had disappeared -- there were many that had -- but still he approaches with interest.

"Arjana!" His greeting is familiar, unaware that she may not remember him, "where the heck have you been?" He doesn't give much to @Vermier and @Aeistrios , but acknowledges them both with a small nod at least.

image to kim + code to pine

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

She knew him. Her body knew him, although they had never intimately known each other more deeply than violence. They had matched naked butts. Nerves rippled along her neck. He saw this, expecting this, extremely pleased to have existed in her memory. She had existed little in his. He had tossed her off as he had tossed off Genya - as a passing whim of the past, ill suited to his present. He had never expected himself to like Lycaonia and in a way he did not expect himself to be as he was around his betrothed. He felt much more himself when posturing at the borders, peeling his fangs at an old enemy and grinning at that old aggression, than he did when he was soft and vulnerable.

He wasn't a dramatic or tragic poet. He'd become the mask, without knowledge or ceremony.

"Ah, c'est moi!" he grinned in return at @Arjana, believing simply that her apparent ignorance was feigned just as his apparent concern was. That she was deadpan rather than serious. She was, however, not an immediate threat, not interesting, not like the unknown male @Aeistrios also wandering their way and asking of Vermier's language - "Le French, ze beau-teeful tongue." - this he supplied happily, always happy to talk about himself. And, of course, responding "She mine," because, when someone asks you if you own unattended property, you say yes. This emphasis, however, was delivered toward Arjana, much more keen in irritating her by impulsive remarks than studying the dull actions of other men.

Such as one Mire king @Alaric, an unfortunate if valuable alliance of Amara's, and not someone he had deigned to study. Politics that did not involve females were less interesting. One on one, the wheat male still did not recommend himself to Vermier's interest. Neither overly daring nor overly polite. "She be lost up butt of hippo for many month. Very sad." Half of his lips sagged in an exaggerated frown. (Why had he approached Arjana, except for excitement? Was he to let this drama so easily ebb?)

Standing there she had half the mind to just walk away. Though she had no place to walk away too. Looking from one male to another as a new face arrived a wheat male who also knew her apparently. "I don’t - have we met? I don’t have much of my memories. Nothing except the last two years which is mostly wandering trying to figure things out. I was told I had gotten a head injury." She explained but didn’t know if anyone would believe her. All she could do his show the large scar on her head from where the wound had healed up.

The chatter would have to wait though as Vermier claimed her as his and she hissed at him. Hearing his version of where she had been being told to @Alaric she looked at him puzzle. "You’re an idiot aren’t you?" She said with a calm serious voice as anger boiled inside of her. Eyes narrowed and ears pinned as she looked at the Hollow’s king before she shifted.

attempting to leap forward he annoyed her and so became he hadn’t listened to her words he’d show him with her fangs. Jaws opening she attempted to shift her body to his left side and tried to bite his left shoulder while attempting to reach up with her front right paw and slap at his face with claw out.

@Aeistrios

Arjana vs. @Vermier
Against Claim (I said I am my own not yours)
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 18 + 2 + 5 + 16 + 7 + 11 + 3

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 4 + 15 + 7 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 12 + 5 + 15 + 2 + 18 + 16

code by shelby

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

To his displeasure, the clay femme kept up the act even in the face of someone offering her aid. It was totally something Vermier would do, and Vermier was a bit territorial about his particular brand of assholery. Half of an ear hitched forward, tad by lingering tad. The touchy paralysis of his face showed itself more though inexpression than by the large, faded blotchy fur-and-skin scar. He didn't want to listen to much more of her English but he gathered that she was calling attention to a... comparable head scar... and he had to butt in "My scar superior." See, they were nothing alike! He was better in all ways. Better scar. Better missing tail. Overall better and bolder at downplaying his immense intelligence.

This female always got on his nerves. She sure hadn't changed. "Oui, ze patent enfant terrible," he admitted as a matter of course, subconsciously seeing every comment about Himself as desirable. Attention was delicious. His mood shifted as her attention turned back to him and like little hairs stirring upward toward electricity gathering downward each fed on impulse and heightened aggression. Violence so commonplace between them.

He readied himself, slinging his weight lower to a calculating stance and unhinging his jaw, feeling the wind rush through his teeth and the tenderness of his jowls, empty and dry. He snarled as she rushed toward his left, annoyed and pleased and familiar, eyes narrowing as a paw rushed toward his face. The distant concussion from his last pride challenge urged him to see the paw as greater threat. Little claws scraped across his muzzle and he attempted to slap them aside with his right paw before they could go further while also aiming to tilt his face to his own left. He took the bite to his left shoulder boldly (one might say stupidly), growling as fangs sunk into the tense muscle fibers and frustrated with his own defensiveness over his own body. This was where he might try to bite into her shoulder or neck, usually on impulsive whim without regard for sacrifice, but he could only picture the consequence of a shoulder blade possibly ramming into his jaw and the e c h o e s e c h o e s e c h o e s the reverberation in his skull. So he didn't; he just aimed to stare at her neck pondering for a tender spot.

@Arjana vs @Vermier
pseudo-claim/dominance/idk
1/3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 6 + 17 + 7 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 17 + 1 + 16 + 12 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 16 + 13 + 5 + 6

Getting her paw slapped away from his face was a slight irritation but it wasn’t her biggest concern. As he didn’t try to stop her from getting her fangs into his shoulder she couldn’t help but wonder if he was scheming or just that stupid. In any case she would feel the hairs on her neck rise as his staring at her neck made her feel like a piece of meat at the buffet table. Was he not even bothered by any of this? Was she a joke to him? His lack of fighting made her blood thirsty side go crazy and she would then attempt to shake her head side to side trying to keep hold of his shoulder. She was aiming to intimidate and inflict pain. She had heard him speak before but what he had said was completely lost to her. He had gone and gotten under her skin in away she didn’t even understand as to why or how. Just who was this guy? Why was it her instinct to attack him?

Arjana vs. @Vermier
Against Claim (I said I am my own not yours)
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 12 + 11 + 17 + 6 + 9 + 7 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 19 + 15 + 1 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 13 + 9 + 3 + 17 + 4 + 14

Injuries;
Is creeped out.

code by shelby

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

His concern for his precious (if scarred jowls) ceded way to the more immediate and more real sensation of fangs within his left shoulder meat. They had lodged once and that flash of pain lingered because the fangs lingered, despite him staring vacantly at the whole situation. The striped female was larger than a persistent tick ought to be, but smaller than the hippo brain she was. A snarl cut through his reverie as she clenched and shook at his shoulder. More blood welled under the skin and seeped through her vampire punctures. Instinct, rather than sense, subconsciously perceived the raising of fur along her neck and hunger further guided his interests in that direction. He tried to suddenly bite around the ridge of her neck, fangs yearning for a precision cut like a butcher with stubborn meat. Perhaps he was still zoned out in a way; his typical style was more ravenous and rough. Right paw returned hesitantly to sand, claws spread, ready to drop weight if needed to secure his footing but also ready to counterattack if needed.

He was unlike himself, but she was still the same.

@Arjana vs @Vermier
pseudo-claim/dominance/idk
2/3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 12 + 4 + 9 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 9 + 19 + 13 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 16 + 20 + 1 + 11