She ascends from the horizons unto the table of the mortal world. Cloaked and lavished within the freshness of death. It is different. Something daunting and desperate to taunt her fall from immortality, vast nothingness that stretch from the tips of his petticoats down to the gutting of her bones. Carving away at each aching wail to be far away from the hellish seem that had once been of her husbands iron willed ruling. To trade immortality for lame virtues would be much more of a sin than that in the eyes of those who dug their graves before his boots. Yet - she does not look back instead trudging forth with an ethereal glow within those dusky tendrils of ash that her dress leaves behind. She becomes half-hell and half-woman within these sacred moments of shedding her crown for nothing more than a lavish and bland life of a commoner. If Hades had wished her to be something more - then she would become that of what he demanded away from the prying eyes and gilding hands of her lovers touch. No longer would she be Goddess of the Underworld, but for now a mortal amongst the salivating tongues of beasts.

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he has neglected his duties. his try for a rank was not out of any real need, only boredom -- he comes, now, because he figures he should at least act like he cares. he was drawn to her, for she was alone. drawn to her not for her beauty but for her potential, venom eyes sparking with intrigue. he does not slink or slither but approaches boldly, a simper on his lips and a welcome on his tongue. "welcome," simple enough, but he is not done. "looking for a home, are you?" because he had one to offer, and for a pretty little thing like herself? well, just say the word.. @Meliae

image by moogle, code by koi

The ashen Tolkien had been restless and fatigued as of late. She was blissfully unaware of her pregnancy and the small life growing within her stomach — she just assumed that she had caught a bug, or had been working herself too hard. Despite these feelings niggling away at her, the Sovereign made her way once more to Maua’s Passage in a search for new members. The Mire was small, yes, but it was that tight-knit community that Maia savoured. Alas, she still made her way through the neutral territories and to the place that rogues and stowaways sought out refuge. Maia arrives to see two lions together: a male and a female. Her fiery eyes fall more on @Meliae than @Alaric. There is something unnerving about him, but for now the woman says nothing. She simply releases a series of chuffs to alert them of her presence, and greeted both with a smile. Welcome to Amaryllis, The Sovereign begins, taking a seat and wrapping her tail neatly around her paws. If it is a home you are looking for, then I extend a welcome to Ecrosia Mire. And now, we wait. Let the games begin.

IMAGE BY ULFANA • CODE BY KOI

It is within the seems of neglect that she finds homage in the barren wastelands - it was no different than Hades domain. Maybe a bit more vibrant and bright within colors and scenery, something she would argue heavily against after months woven beneath his bosom. Part due to the darkness that had intertwined their souls, and other part due to the familiarity of warmth that hell had given to her in even the coldest of nights. Warm hands that would caress with carnage need, while daunting and bloody knuckles coiled unto her cheek bones only to dip further unto the wallow of her spine. Pulling apart the satire of ashen dresses to welt within the woe of her woman-hood. It is different nonetheless, and for once she can’t tell whether she welcomes the nothingness or wards it away.

The solace is broken in time, the heavy feel of blistering heat coming to be more than what she remembers. It is the welt of another man’s song that draws the canary to the beds of rattlesnakes - it is all too canny. Familiar for her liking, and yet - the hellish creature cannot seem to pull herself from the allure of his fashioned suit. Poise and careful - surely much older than her dearest hellions. There is no doubt within any pits of her ashen mind about this. Whether it were a dead giveaway due to his choking facade, or the way that he speaks within prestige power. Not quite wanting to be there, yet fulfilling the naught of men’s desires. Hell or home, mio caro? She would take either. After all, hell had been home once in a daydream.

Of course, Adonis would be more of her mothers keeper to send forth for her return. But whenever had her mother learned? A god would fraternize with mortals before leaving in lave toe to fawn within the garden again. Grazie, dolce colomba. Tell me more of your…le case?

@Alaric @Maia

i. - my dear?
ii. - Thank you sweet dove.
iii. - homes?

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another came to join them, and he decided he had little patience for this game. though she had a unique way of speaking (and included a fair lot of words he did not know) alaric wanted her.

"sorry miss mire," he mused, "but she'll be coming with me."

to @Meliae, then "you'll like the dessert. our king is strong and smart as a whip, and the oasis is lovely. i'll be happy to show you around." he smothers his voice in charm, even if his actions are those of a brute. he stakes his claim with a step in her direction before he turned to face @Maia. Lowering his head and checking his defenses he quirked a brow in her direction - "unless you've got something to say about that?"


( alaric vs ??
for Meliae
0/3)_{BG — ART — CODE}

There is tension in the air - Maia can feel it. There is something about @Alaric that is unsettling, but Maia could not place what exactly that was. The ashen lioness listens to @Meliae as she speaks a language that she is not familiar with, and she wonders what it is she is telling the pair. But before Maia could ask, the Oasis lion's words echo through the air and pierce her ears with a knife. The woman's fiery gaze snaps away from the rogue and to the man with a snarl, her blackened lips peeling back. You will do no such thing. Maia snaps with a click of her tongue, anger boiling in her stomach. There was nothing more that irritated her than self-entitled men thinking that they could lay claim to a lioness simply because she was a woman. No longer would they be deemed the lesser sex: Meliae would know this if she were to have a home in the Mire. With no more words, Maia alters her stance and begins to move toward the lion. She would lower her head, pin back her ears and unsheathed her claws into the loose grit beneath them so that her grip would be increased, as well as her traction toward Alaric. The ashen lioness would attempt to shove her left shoulder into Alaric's chest (speficially the center), whilst simultaneously lunging forward, lifting her right forelimb, and with unsheathed claws, attempted to dig into Alaric's left flank. Maia vs. Alaric for Meliae Round one of three Hits: Rolling 5d20: 2 + 17 + 9 + 19 + 11 Dodges: Rolling 5d20: 14 + 3 + 17 + 2 + 20 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 1 + 18 + 14 + 9 + 3

IMAGE BY ULFANA • CODE BY KOI

Overrun, you're under the gun

Sound the drum, the Great War has come

It was the sounds of battle that drew the dark cat towards the gathering. Jewel had been on the sands, trailing to find others for the Mire, when she caught the snarling. A frown marred her features and the woman made her way towards it only to find @Maia embroiled in a battle with @Alaric. Blinking rapidly, the twin tail would pause a few lengths away, settling to her haunches and watching the battle quietly.

She noticed @Meliae off to the side and wondered if Maia was defending the female, or if the lion had claimed her - the scent of sand was strong, but she wasn't sure to which sandy home the beast belonged. Not without getting closer. So, she rose to her feet and made her way towards the rogue woman, pausing a length or so away, gesturing with her skull towards the combatants. "What started that?"

Curious as ever - still, she watched the Mire queen with a careful expression upon her face. She wouldn't interfere, but she also wouldn't allow anything to happen to the silver woman after the fact either. And given the recent violence and upheaval in Amaryllis, Jewel wondered if anything these days was simple.

Code by Corvus.. Image (C)jean wimmerlin @Unsplash. Manip by Tabs

It is the ways of their world, this is something that she had learned to be so. It did not take a philosopher to distinguish hierarchy, grit, power, need in a world that was dying before their very feet. One would always wish to take more than another, and thus forth the cycle would continue. Ebbing and flowing within the waning tides of time as their hourglasses flourished - cracked beneath the weight of their own greed. She does not find herself fraternizing within their moral quarrels, though is surprised within a fashion to find a woman fighting for her own naught of life. Was it for her own personal gain, or the permeation of her pride? It matters little to whom would coerce amongst the quarrel of flesh and blood. They could touch, claim, taste even - but Meliae was as free as a songbird in the savannas skies. For if they only knew what hell they were trifling with beneath those silky hips of ash. Would their quarrels not be worthless within their downfall?

The need for nectar I suppose. She doesn't expect the woman to understand. No one ever did, lest not they come from the bow of Hade's hands. They would never understand. A pity really, not even three sentences in and the darkness has come to claim me once again. Wasn't this the case that was always so? Helpless (or seemingly), within the gardens of eden only to be devoured whole by the carnage of an inky hellion from the depths of the underworld. Dragged to the undergrounds with the surface pressure of neglect a heavy and tight weight drowning within the tint of whiskey on her lips. While she sates his....desire for a ball drop The vine sprawls unto a long forgotten sentence. Daft within the wind as she casts her forlorn gazes of steel and coal against @Jewel's frame with eerie invitations Meliae Law Not Persephone....Never Persephone. Once in a dream, but never more.

- +5 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (1/2)

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He was ready for a fight. Expected one, even. When she announced her intention he grinned all the more,turning to face the potential bloodshed with a keen eagerness in his eyes. "let's dance, then," he purred, flexing his claws and shifting his weight to even his balance.

His years had seen many battles but still he seemed to come to life, excited for the fight. Even if it was against somebody so much smaller than he was.

Foolish girl sought to slam her shoulder in to his chest -- he could have pulled back but he knew his size would be a benefit here. Instead he sought to shift his bulk just slightly to the right before he rose to meet her, left shoulder now meeting left shoulder. She would leave a small bruise, but he hopes his weight will work in his favor as he sought to shove towards her with that shoulder, using the fact that she was so near (from her own attack) to retaliate. If he can knock her even a little off balance...

Simultaneously his teeth bared and his head darted forward, attempting to sink his teeth in to her pretty little face (particularly aiming near the top of her head where her ear met her skull.

Focused as he was on his own attack her claws do find purchase on his left side, though scrape through only the top layers of flesh (his shift to the left having given just enough space to escape real damage). He bleeds but barely seems to notice, laser focused on taking his own pound of flesh.

Alaric vs @Maia
for Meliae
1/3

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 13 + 17 + 14 + 9 + 16 + 12 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 10 + 5 + 6 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 15 + 7 + 18 + 4

code by corvus

Overrun, you're under the gun

Sound the drum, the Great War has come

@Meliae spoke and Jewel found herself humming in mild frustration. It would seem that @Alaric had decided to show his ass and @Maia was in the process of handing it to him. Still, it meant that she would have to be doubly careful of Andallan representatives here in the sands as it would appear no longer were things done with civility.

"Jewel khulani... It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady meliae. Though I wish it under better circumstances...I can't speak for our maned friend there.. but I can offer you some insight into the Mire...and if he wins, a promise you won't be detained for long if that is your wish.". She had no qualms about shredding fang and claw through the hide of another for the freedom to choose.

Especially if that freedom hadnt even been offered in the first place. "The grey woman that fights him.. she is my queen.. I know you will be granted a choice with her.". And if not, some harsh words and likely fur would fly in the aftermath. Jewel trusted Jafar to hold true to his words of keeping no captives, and trusted that the female would be given her freedom should she ask it.

Code by Corvus.. Image (C)jean wimmerlin @Unsplash. Manip by Tabs