it feels strange existing in the limbo between war and peace. they are two islands that sometimes feel worlds apart and at other times, feel no farther apart than a crack in the earth during the dry season.

magdalena figures it is best to find a moment of relaxation before shit hit the proverbial fan. after all, it was much harder to rest when one's body ached with an uncountable number of bruises and cuts. the young woman lays on her back under the beaming sun, sighing softly as the summer rays warm her stomach. in the air around her hangs the almost overwhelming smell of flowers, some of which magdalena can feel being crushed into the plush fur of her back. if only life could be this peaceful forever.

@Nikandr

coding by daanyen | art by fildgvey566

He's hardly indulging in anything so peaceful as basking.

Nikandr is stumbling away from the brawl ( for fun, of course ) that he and a few others had just taken part in. His knuckles are bloodied and fingers tattered, lip split and a cut slicing through his eyebrow down towards his bright blue eye. And despite the blood that coats him, the wounds that litter his form, he's in good spirits. Half-drunk, eyes fever-bright and a laugh still spilling from his lips as he waves a lazy goodbye to the nameless trio that had spent the afternoon beating the shit out of one another.

Ah, boys will be boys, you know?

The pools of water that linger just in the distance are all but singing his name and without pause, the boy dives in with an enormous splash. It takes longer than, perhaps, it should for Nikan to come to the surface but he does with an obnoxiously loud gasp of breath, the cold of the water sobering him more and washing away the worse of the surface blood. Not much to be done about the deeper cuts; the one on his lip bleeds freer, now, from the grin that had reopened it.

But he's satisficed and with with a sigh leans back to hook his elbows on the shoreline, head tipping until the top of his skull presses to the earth. And that's when he sees @Magdalena, perched prettily on her back and sunning her underbelly. He stares blankly for a moment, blinking dumbly, before he rotates around to pillow his head on his crossed arms. Didn't know you were there. He says, loud enough to carry to her - and to state the obvious.

at first magdalena things the gentle crunch of grasses might be a wandering prey animal. after all, there were plenty of them which wandered around amaryllis and many which lingered around the relatively lush lands of celosia fields. one of few places where both their food and water could be reliably found during the hottest of the summer months. she finds herself uncharacteristically relaxed, even stretching with a wide yawn.

then comes the loud splash and magdalena is on her feet just as he speaks, voice breaking the silence between them. she had thought the noise had come from a crocodile finding an unwitting victim but clearly, the girl had been mistaken. bicolored eyes peer at the him as if it might unlock the reason why @Nikandr was here, though her gaze flickers down to his still bleeding lip. "your lip," magdalena starts, eyes flickering up to meet his again.

"you're bleeding, you know." he looked pretty roughed up and while magdalena doesn't want to assume what had gotten him in this state, she certainly had some theories. "the other guy looks worse, i hope?" an upward quirk of the lips - a gentle jest.

coding by daanyen | art by fildgvey566

The girl stares at him with wide eyes and he stares back, his crooked smile only widening with her comment. Feigned surprise flashes across his face and he lifts a paw to probe his split lip. An overdramatized gasp escapes and he presses another paw to his chest. Wonder how that happened. He quips, plopping his foot back to the shoreline and winking at the girl. @Magdalena continues with a little taunt of her own and he wrinkles his nose, shoving up with his forelegs to drag himself out of the water. Nikandr deposits himself on the earth, stretching out on his stomach and allowing the sun to help warm his back. I think they look quite a bit better than I, actually. He laments, head lolling to one side and peering at her from a single blue eye. He definitely took the brunt of the beating, but it's clear from his outward appearance that he's not particularly upset about it; he's quite nonchalant about the whole thing, actually. But it's not about who wins, he clarifies, waving a paw and sighing with a lingering drunken tilt to his head. It's about the adrenaline.

@Nikandr's dramatics have an amused smile spreading across magdalena's cheeks. the unfamiliar expression makes her cheeks hurt after only a few short moments. "you'd probably know better than i." she responds smoothly, without missing a beat. there had been a time when magdalena might have thought differently, so used to accidentally injuring herself from fainting or falling that there was no way she'd know where each bump and bruise came from. she has a feeling this man doesn't have similar struggles though.

he's strange indeed, only somewhat puzzling her more with the next response. "they do?" she questions, brows raised. "most people wouldn't admit to that." certainly not men, as magdalena had learned. it's strange to not see him sulking about it either, sprawled out leisurely against the ground. even she would have been quite sour. "isn't it though?" magdalena, for one, had never fought simply for the experience of it. if she was fighting with someone, it was with the thirst to win - to prove she was stronger than her opponent. perhaps even to force feed respect for her down their throats, if needed. certainly not for something as fleeting as adrenaline. "adrenaline is important only for you, i think." the woman lets her haunches hit the ground, sitting not far from nikandr. "most people fight to win." though there were surely those out there that felt the same as he did, magdalena had yet to run into them.

coding by daanyen | art by fildgvey566

At her comment, Nikan feigns a pout though it flips easily to a smirk half a heartbeat later. Because you're a master brawler, hmm? She couldn't possibly mean anything else - just look at her. Big strapping thing that she is. The sun warms his spine and the cat gives a lazy stretch, forepaws reaching in front of him and toes spreading. A lazy purr rumbles in his throat and he blinks sleepily at her from his place on the earth. @Magdalena is perplexed by his blasé attitude about the whole thing and he peers thoughtfully at her for a long moment. There's a gleam of intelligence there, damning any attempt at remaining a himbo - or... at least mostly.

There's not much to win when you're doing it to remind your body its alive. Nikandr muses, tail tip curling and uncurling. There's an almost sad, wistful look that passes quickly across his expression. Sometimes I lose on purpose. He adds as an afterthought, utterly unashamed at the admission. How many nights had he come stumbling home, drunk and beaten to a bloody pulp, to throw himself into his bed and sleep it off, late into the day. Doing anything, everything, to draw his father's ire - because ire was attention, at least. Ire meant that Seror knew he was alive.

Ire meant eyes were on him and not his brothers for more than the span of a breath.

He inhales sharply, sitting up and running the back of his paw across his lip, smearing the red across his pale fur. He wrinkles his nose, licking to remainder away, and shrugging one shoulder. I might want to win if there's ever a real reason to.

a small smile pulls at her lips at @Nikandr's response. "something like that." magdalena didn't consider herself an expert on fighting by any means, but she certainly had her fair share of brawls under her belt for being such a young age. "wouldn't dare call myself an expert, though." she says with a raised brow. the older of the valley's inhabitants might find offense in that - not that their feelings mattered much to magdalena anyway. he stretches out before her, body lengthening and toes spreading in a way that makes her want to follow suit. instead, she simply stares down at nikandr with an amused look.

the sarcastic remark bubbles up before magdalena can stop it. "is breathing not enough to remind you?" though in her heart, she knows well that throwing herself into battle - the roaring of blood in her ears and the adrenaline pumping hard through her veins - makes her feel more alive than anything else. pushes the darkness to the periphery for a fleeting second until it's able to rush back in and take hold of her again. "so you're not like most people then." magdalena notes, though that much had been obvious from the first words that they exchanged. "so you enjoy the thrill, but why lose?" that confuses her more than anything.

"a reason to win... such as?" for her, and for many others surely, that reason is pride or perhaps even to prove themselves to whoever may be watching - or to one's self. without that, magdalena cannot imagine what might be worthwhile enough for this man to really pursue victory.

coding by daanyen | art by fildgvey566

He grins at her, a paw flippantly twisting in the air. You can tell me you're an expert. I'd believe it. A harmless wink thrown her way. Truthfully, her size, her sex - none of it mattered. He'd seen smaller creature triumph bigger hurdles. Not many Laws; they didn't get the chance, after all. But Melusina comes to mind and he narrows his gaze minutely. Thoughtful. But - no. They look like they could be the same age, but Mel would've gone looking for her family when they came to Amaryllis if she'd had siblings. Wouldn't she have? It's @Magdalena's statement that draws his attention once more and he shakes his head slightly. Though the words are out of her mouth in a flash, he can see on her face that she knows it's not true. So rather than restate the obvious, he merely lifts a brow, slowly. Not like most people? Hm, the boy hums, tilting his head up and squinting at the sky. Am I not? Or do I just admit it? Nikan knows he isn't the only one who revels in the fight for the fight. He's seen countless of his own brethren share the sentiment. The difference? He had been a prince ( a useless one, but a prince none-the-less ) and they had not. Why lose, she asks - and again, that sad smile. Attention. He breathes, his ears folding to his skull. For a moment he remains with his head tilted up - but he drops his skull to set his bright eyes alight upon her. Angry attention - disappointment - but attention is attention. A crooked grin, brows tightening over his gaze. If you don't know what I mean, count yourself lucky, kid. Kid, as if they weren't the same damn age. I dunno what a good reason is, yet. Haven't really found it. Most of my family would probably say honor. Some might say love. A shrug of his shoulder. I'll know when I find it.

art + code by spu

"a little bit of both, if i had to guess." the thrill of battle was one thing, even magdalena could sympathize with that, but willingly losing was another entirely. "i think people might fight for the fun of it, but you must be one of a few that lose for the fun of it too." she starts, eyes neutrally appraising as they look over @Nikandr's body, pausing on each injury that still heals under his fur. "the egos here are horribly frail." magdalena adds, as if that explains everything. man, woman, sovereign, or peasant - it didn't seem to matter much.

the answer comes on the heels of her question and her first instinct is to let out a short, barking laugh at the shock of it. "who's attention do you want so badly to get willingly bloodied up for it?" sure, there were white knights that jumped into danger hoping to be noticed by saving their crush or family, but she suspects that's not the case at all here. his next statement, however, has her jaw clenching visibly, any sense of the easy back-and-forth they had dying behind steely eyes. "not lucky." magdalena corrects coolly. "looking for attention is hard when you're alone." who was there to enough to care either way? rohan? she almost scoffs out loud at the thought.

magdalena has to think of her own reasons to fight and win - none are as pure as the ones that nikandr proposes. honor, love. more like revenge and smashing the glass ceiling. after all, it was hard for rohan to think of her as weak when magdalena beat him at every turn. at least, that was the goal. "don't you think you'd get more attention winning?" those that drew the most arguably the most attention in amaryllis - sovereigns - were certainly evidence of that.

coding by daanyen | art by fildgvey566

@Magdalena studies him thoughtfully, her eyes pausing on each and every wound he sports. An easy grin hangs on his dark lips ( though it doesn't ever reach his eyes ) and he rolls a single shoulder in a vague sort of response. They are frail most places. Nikan promises her, tilts his head up and regards the horizon with a scrutinizing stare. No different at home, really. Because hadn't his father damned them all for his own ego? His refusal to admit that he'd made a mistake? He didn't know it, of course, this wayward Law prince - it happened after he left. After he was encouraged to go expand their empire. Because he was expendable; the middle royal. Unambitious. Apathetic. Useless. The boy swallows tightly, jerking his eyes back to his companion. The tension that radiates from her a moment after her laugh has his eyes tightening slightly - in something like sympathy. But, no, that's not right; understanding. A sad sort of smile crosses his expression - quick and then gone. You can be alone even when he's standing right there. The boy promises. When you're one of a dozen conquering royals, winning is expected. Not celebrated. Bitterness touches his voice there and he snorts, flapping a paw absently. Easier to stand out by losing - even if you have to fake it. He leans a little closer, easily falling back into his lazy, spoiled boy persona ( but does anyone know, yet, that it is so faux? ). Who'd ever leave a pretty little thing like you all alone, anyway?

art + code by spu