For a freight train city
Locked up 'til you're moonlit
Brushing my hair back,
feeling your lips
on my cold neck

You do it to me so well
Hypnotic taking over me
make me feel like someone else,
you got me talking in my sleep

The Brook drips of verdant opulence and promises of life. It's ethereal beauty falls to abundance. It's vibrant and flourishing, here - with rolling hills, and miles of serene skies. Autumnal winds caresses the earth, a languishing cadence, as a wayward breeze lifts the blades of grass, singing in tune with the earth's pulse. Here, he can feel serenity, and the wild siren-cry for blood. It hums deep in his veins, this want for violence and life. Perhaps, it's the beauty of this place, that has brought the soldier here. It's untouched - unblemished - and he finds himself being pulled in; drawn by its sweet allure. How long has it been? Since he felt such peace? Such new beginnings?

Amaroq arrives with the sun setting at his back. Crimson rays bathes his muscular form, as his athletic frame swoops low to the ground, and prowls forward, fearlessly. Holy light pours through the still meadows, saturating everything in a sea of gold and red - in a sea of blood. It seems strange, to find such beauty bathed in so much phantom blood. It only pulls him closer; tugging fiercely at his heart. When he finally comes to cross the borderline, he roars to summon them - whoever they are. His snarling challenge rings deep into the oncoming night. His defenses slip into place, his ears flattening against his skull, as he waits, eager for their approach.

Amaroq vs. @Cassandra
For VB
0 of 5

table by ryuu

Obviously, she did not like this. Not one bit. The first thing she thought of was her mother having just given birth only a month ago. Tiny newborn siblings that should stay put in their home of the Brook and not have to be misplaced. Analia considered herself lucky that she had never had to get uprooted in her year of being here. Not once had she been forced out of her home and she hoped, maybe even prayed, that her baby siblings would not know what that felt like.

The yearling hung by on the outskirts. Not yet wishing to get closer and hoping that she might see @Eisa arrive so she could hang at her sister's side. Terrified of what might come of this and knowing that there was some discrepancies between her home and the others around. Knowing how hard her mother fought the last time to keep their home and their family together, hoping that she would come out spitting and fighting just the same way again.

As she waited for a familiar face, she allowed herself to acquaint herself visually with the red-furred stranger. Their scent was not familiar at all. Nothing that connected him to any of the pride's scents that she had gotten to know at the passage and as a fledgling to everything, it wasn't her first thought that he was a rogue of all things. It made the most logical sense to draw that conclusion but it simply was not her first thought that anyone would choose to be alone out there.

+5 - Observe and study a new scent
+5 - Observe a challenge and learn the results
+5 - Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds

^{ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY CALA}

GOD KILLS INDISCRIMINATELY AND SO SHALL WE

It is true that the beast desires the downfall of all that is not his, and true that he admired the poetic springs and gentle abodes hinted to from a mere glimpse beyond the brook's borders. Opportunity had given him the Lagoon, and revenge the Bluffs, and opportunity again the Hollows, but if ever he could act of his own volition the Brook was most beautiful and most desired to be tended under his paw. Yet he did not have it - therefore, hated it - therefore, desired its downfall. ALSO: that it was ruled by a female, that the familial roots ran deep and there was power in blood and femininity. Something about a male challenging a female for rulership always sat crooked with him.

Fortunate that his moral crooks would soon be settled by blood.

Vermier stood outside the borders, pleased enough to observe without crossing the line yet. (Perhaps he would, if he found a tasty reason to offend.) He stood with his nostrils twitching, enjoying the twist of the twilight and the winds of change. The scent of the Brook was settled in a stronghold as usual but smelled less femininely overpowered than usual. The rogue was large and in his prime, not an unusual sight. Such a challenger might also eye the Hollow if denied here, so Vermier should watch him fight (see what wounds he could pick at, with his slimy maggot heart). Within was only the shadow of one yearling waif, whose melanism might give him pause and suspicion if he bothered to keep up on politics like he should... but he didn't, so it didn't. He eyed her, decided she was uninteresting, and pitched his attention to keep tabs on other arrivals while the one ear that had decided to function today pitched inward.

+5 Observe a fight
+5 Learn information about a potential threat

Well, well, well, she seems to know all those prominent men that find their way to one pride or another with the goal of taking it's crown for their very own. Freckled body slips across the foliage, remaining low, paw steps precise among the shadows. Recognition steals plentiful upon the freckled visage, remembering the crimson soldier from long ago. They'd not clashed since, though her claws unfurled as if scratching an itch. Something about the ego of men drove her near mad, eager to sully her paws with blood.

Per usual, she lingered within the backdrop of the onslaught of violent clashing over the lands, a pride she'd never experienced before. Content to position herself to the right of those sifting into the arena's seats. Such bloodshed felt a common occurrence upon the present of Amaryllis's structure, intent on keeping anyone's names from reaching the history books, save perhaps the likes of Alaric.

Still, this fight held her interest. Beneath the falling sun, the red soldier's backside lit with fire, glowing the embers of readied war. Part of her yearned to see a crown upon the crimson brow, while the other wished to see the likes of egotistical men slain beneath a woman's claws. Body settled against the ground, fulvous eyes peering between branches growing barren of autumnal embers, but still enough to properly obscure her from prying eyes.

+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread (1/2)

code by shelby | art by irish

Neytiri was quick to slip onto the scene. Curiosity drawing her in as per usual.
She notes that a yearling is the only Vermedian present and thus moves to stand beside the girl. Do we know who they are? She asks @Analía, head nodding toward the two lions in sight. One had sense enough to remain behind the border but the challenger seemed more confident as he sat within the Brook. Neytiri had half a mind to chase him back over the territory line, but this was not her battle to fight. She had no authority here.

Instead the woman takes a seat. And waits.

Art by Sammiie, Code by Minxy

+20 - Infiltrate a pride’s borders by pretending you’re a member [sitewide double xp]

---

The call sent up is as unfamiliar as the pride borders he intrudes upon shortly thereafter. Riordan has become something of a rebel as of late, either tiptoeing borders or walking right in when the time is right. The merle beast pauses at the scent markers a moment - contemplating. Wouldn't it be fun to do a little incognito work today? For nothing more than his own curiosity of course. Plus, he could never be too sure there wouldn't be enemies of the Savante lurking around this place. Mother knows they collect them without him even realizing it half the time.

@Zoltan is somewhere not far behind, surely. They'd both heard the call - been with earshot even. Rio had just been fussing with his mane, tangling in pink flamingo feathers from their romp in the pond not long ago. It was an acute and warm reminder of that day. It was a rare moment for them to get to act freely, more boy than savage. There were no worries of blood and gore, or losing someone they loved.

He smiled softly down at the soft and shiny feathers as they fluttered along with the breeze.

And then the spotted Savante would drop to the ground and roll. Once satisfied with the scent clinging to him, he'd also bother to wind himself along the trees and bushes that he spotted nearby. Let their scent really soak in and hopefully complete his guise.

But once he'd finished, the piebald man would wait patiently for his companion. Golden eyes would search the foliage for him expectantly. It shouldn't take the bleached warrior long - they never strayed far from one another. Such had become a habit as both travelling companions and training partners.

TABLE © ARGENT 2018

The pattern repeated, his mothers were challenged, Morrigan had thrown down her challenger once more, and then someone had decided the Brook looked equally as alluring. There was no peace to be found in this life, not amongst titles and politicking, not for Khal. @Cassandra had been the one to inherit Morrigan's fire, while Khal could only claim the ice water in her veins. Fearless bordering on stupid? Absolutely. But wantonly violent or ambitious in the least? No. @Analía's inky black cloak catches silver-burst eyes first, and her uncle moves to join the unfamiliar Vermedan with her, @Neytiri. "He is a stranger to me," Khal shares, though given how few others he actually bothered to know well, he wasn't a very useful informant.

coding by flea & image by yumpy

The sound of another call clangs through her, another challenger to fight her mother who so recently had given birth, who... No. Eisa moved towards the borders, arriving with a high head and her sharp gaze coming to rest on the stranger. Eisa strides forward, curious, sniffing - studying his strange scent... and memorizing him, remembering him -- and as she looks at him- she makes one attempt to end this peacefully.- @Amaroq

"Just go. This is our home. Don't, don't do this- please." She says, her words soft, as she stares at the red male, coming as close as she would dare- without initiating a fight. A plea that perhaps he'd listen. A desperate plea- and only after saying her piece, would she move to stand beside @Analia -- to take comfort in her sisters presence.

eisa sigrún

code by corvus

From one war to the next.

His deep claw wounds had barely begun to mend. They were still covered with healing substances as he found himself making his way toward the area of the challenge. Peace was too much to ask for apparently. Every challenge was a free for all now. They all dissolved into chaos and he did not expect the brook to be any different.

So even battered, the lacerations across both sides of his face that crossed over one another where his sight had clearly been threatened, and the gouges, he sought to circle the battlescape for any sign of unsavory visitors. Vermier was ignored in the distance for being on the rightful side of the border while the rest looked like pridemates, family, and helpful faces. Yet he couldn’t squash his suspicions.

Myrkvi is actively looking for @Gunnhildr:

Rolling 1d10: 9

ART BY MOGGLE - CODE BY LARS

The sun is starting to set when the call goes up in the air - a call that brings Aeistrios nothing but genuine joy and excitement. He is swift to move, a shock to see for most, the lazy male practically skipping to the lands of the Brook to see just who had made the challenge. There is a slight bitterness, for he'd of loved to been the one to rip the home from @Cassandra and leave her with nothing, to show the little girl that she was nothing, nothing more then someone playing pretend.

He is not alone, of course, as he comes to the lands of the Brook. @Reah is with him - and so is @Renfri - chuffing for his two wives before he departed from the Plains. He was sure there would be bloodshed here today, and it wouldn't just be the Princess'. No, Aeistrios wanted to take full advantage of this situation.

Plum paws stalk to the border, and his purple eyes come to settle on the brute who stood, waiting for his opponent. A wide, pleased smirk graces Aeistrios' lips, and he aims to speak out to him - "Her forelimb is scarred from the past fights I have had with her. She is fast, so be faster. Bring her down." He rumbles to him, beyond eager to offer some advice to him, something he hoped would help @Amaroq be successful here today. Aeistrios was already a fan of the brute for initiating the challenge, and he hoped beyond anything the male was victorious today. What pleasure it would bring him to see Cassandra lose....

@Vermier catches his attention slightly, and Aeistrios smirks to him as well - would he take advantage of this, too, and try to add to his numbers? He knew the male liked to claim from what he had seen in the passage, maybe he would see the Obsidian brute have fun here today too.

@Eisa earns a amused look from him too, and his gaze takes to seeing how her wounds fared from his fangs and claws - dare he say he wished infection had set in on some of them? Ah, oh well. He gives her a wink, taunting from afar with a glint of his fangs offered and 'Little Kitty' being mouthed from his jaws with a deep amusement seeping behind his expressions.

But it is a colossal figure that takes his attention next.

His gaze becomes intense on @Neytiri , focused as he narrows his eyes slightly. She is... familiar. Her colossal frame, her plum pelt- those markings. Where did he know her? Where did they- the ball. It is like the memory lights the fire in him, and Aeistrios feels a low growl vibrate at his chest.

He wanted her.

"You are as beautiful without the mask as you were with it." He purrs, inching closer to the borders in which she stood across, eyeing the company she had with a dismissive glance. "And I cannot help but want our date to continue - " He lets the word date hang there, smirk widening, flirting with the enemy made things extremely fun. "-back in my home. Come, with me." While some may take it as a question, there was a subtle challenge. He wanted to steal her, take her, challenge for her under the nose of the pride being fought for - to take full advantage and leave here today with a stunning lioness added to his land. He knew it would come with a price, and no doubt he'd fight multiples - but he be damned if he didn't try.

What was it about Neytiri that made him want to try?

His muscles tense, subtly preparing for the fight he knew to come, and his eyes remain focused on her - solely her - ready to savor her reactions.

Aeistrios vs ?? for @Neytiri
0/3

art by riot/coding by riot