Ragnarok Awaits

Tyr had been simply wandering without purpose or direction. He knew that he needed to familiarize himself more with the geography of this land before he could think about taking it over, truly. Today he found himself in a rather dense thicket. It had started out as a nice little grove too… and as he dared go further it was as though the trees had begun to engulf him. Still, he was unafraid of the atmosphere of the overbearing branches. In fact, he rather thrived in the dark, musty tangle.

There was a tree that he found particularly nice. What caught his eye about this tree in particular was that it was rather smooth on one side. A perfect place to sharpen his instruments of wrath. He made his way to the tree and lifted his foreclaws to its pristine face, devoid of blemish. Oh the pleasure he derived from raking his claws against the smooth, soft surface. The sound of the bark pulling away from its flesh beneath was just so satisfying. Perhaps once his claws were sharp enough, he would grab a decent stick to clean his teeth?

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What a picture-perfect Disney villain setting! With all the green, classic color by the way, all the moss, all the dark and twisty vegetation. You can really feel the bad guy’s hide out, or dangerous forest something precious got lost in vibes. And that tiny lizard that had fallen on to his face earlier? Yeah, that little guy totally deserves an Oscar for his dragon role. No CGI, no nothing. Just pure raw talent. A true thespian. Eric, our prince charming of course, found the wicked old witch, *cough*, I mean, the strange young lion, sharpening his claws on the local flora. Ugh, save the bees, man! “Bad day?” A golden brow arched in question, as he stood a couple tail-lengths away. Peering curiously at the yearling, whose pale pelt, brilliant and cold amongst the misty surroundings, made him seem almost like an apparition. A dark thought. A bad dream. Well, of course, he’s just a boy. And though Eric knew, very well, that sometimes boys do things they did not mean to do, or say things they did not mean to say, he was more…weary. Don’t talk to strangers in the dark evil looking woods, you know, that sort of thing. “Or were you just due for a spa treatment?” But "Sentimental Boy" is my nom de plume Art by Swan, Code by Swan (fixed by Cala)

No dreams of power or grandeur trailed the black woman. Her motivations are much more primal. Her two years of life had taught her to want is to face disappointment and so she has learned to simply be. As such, she slips through the underbrush of the grove with no particular destination in mind. There was much to explore and discover, and Taipan has been exploring the land at her own pace.

Smells of not-so-distant strangers draw her attention and her direction changes as she prowls closer. Dense bramble and ferns make it impossible to see the pair until she is basically right upon them. "Spa treatment?" She inquires with a raised eyebrow, having never heard of such a thing. Mismatched eyes flick from @Eric to @Tyr, assessing them with quick shrewd glances as she waits for an answer.

Ragnarok Awaits

A male voice rang past Tyr's ears inquiring about what he was doing out here. Tyr turned toward the guy mid-stroke, claws still buried deep into the tree's flesh. His intense maroon gaze darkening as he laid eyes upon the male who had dared approach. There was a moment of deafening silence. The moment he took before answering was meant to make it crystal clear that he was being interrupted, however he ultimately decided to give this guy a break. After all, it wasn't like Tyr truly owned these woods. What had he expected? Complete solitude? That would have been quite naïve.

The intense glare remained, promising violence if he was tread upon, however he plastered a dark grin upon his maw at the other guy's words. Violently pulling his claws from the tree (and taking out quite a chunk of bark in the process) Tyr lowered himself to the ground and began approaching the golden male slowly.

"Ahh, rather mundane really. I suppose you were warmer with your latter guess."

The guy seemed nervous, weary. That made Tyr's dark smile widen even further. Rightfully weary, indeed.

Suddenly his attention was pulled to the presence of the fairer sex. He tilted his head at her and clicked his tongue in a 'tsk' at her inquiry. She was clearly lost... perhaps in more ways than one.

"Indeed, dear Kvinne. It is yet another way to describe one who is simply priming their Instruments of Wrath."

He explained, lifting a paw and curling his toes inward to display his long, dark claws. They were sharpened to perfection, and longing for blood and flesh. Longing to do what they were there to do.

"Now, weather I will be using them any time soon... who's to say?"

He shrugged, tone matter-of-fact as he glared back up at the weary male once more... a teasing smile playing upon the corner of his lip.

@Eric @Taipan

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Wow. And you guys thought Eric had an attitude problem. Look at this kid! Acting all high and mighty and mysterious. Giving lessons to two adults. Well, an adult woman and a man-child. But that’s not what matters here. It’s the clear disrespect for the elderly! I’ll never understand this new generation. Eric’s jaw tightens at the young man’s little…show. Alright. Perhaps he should’ve knocked. Big deal. Our sweet innocent little vampire was obviously not the only uninvited guest in this neck of the woods. As before he could give answer that would wipe the smile off the smug little brat’s face came another. The adult woman in question. Teal eyes rolled theatrically, and a snort materialized in the cool, damp air, as the young man gave the poor girl a speech. Look at him. Thinking he’s sooo scary. Ok, he’s a little scary! I’ll give him that. Certainly’s got a flair for the dramatic. But this theatre kid was not about to let himself get out-theatred! “Is that a threat. Cause it’s kinda cramped in here.” Eric steps back, barely catching himself before he almost brushes Taipan’s pelt. Should she not try and move away. His heart beats in his chest, a quiet and yet formidable sound. Secret, tucked away from prying ears. Chivalrous? Maybe. He realized too late she probably wouldn’t consider them allies, or at the very least that she needed no big strong man to defend her. In fact, she looked like she would be the one whooping ass. With that scar and everything. Eric had been at the receiving end of too many sibling “pranks” to prove it. Hell, he could definitely be the one who just sits back and look pretty. If it weren’t for that bruised and stupid ego. “And I wouldn’t wanna ruin your nice manicure.” @Taipan But "Sentimental Boy" is my nom de plume Art by Swan, Code by Swan (fixed by Cala)

Ragnarok Awaits

(OOC: Sorry but i'm going to go ahead and skip. I just want to keep this going. Koafox, please feel free to hop back in whenever you wish to!! <3 Sorry again!! )

It would seem the older male might have taken some offense to the way Tyr had managed their little chat. This other male's jaw tightening, eyes rolling and then an attempt to call him out? The other male's words and tone of voice was taken as a challenge. Perhaps he was trying to show off in the presence of the female? Quite the joke, indeed.

at the word 'threat' Tyr's teasing smile fell away, giving precedence to a much more sinister and intense glare fixated upon the older man. His gaze darkened with a deep scowl, and all of a sudden the jovial nature of the conversation would turn sour.

"It can be a threat if that is how you wish to see it, mein bror. You're soft hide wouldn't ruin anything."

Tyr said, approaching the older male. His ears were perked high, head held proudly and tail unmoving at half mass behind him. A deep growl rippled in his chest to intertwine itself between the words he spoke. A clear threat that the blond should back down before things got bloody.

He waited for the first swing with eager anticipation.

@Eric

(Mein bror = My brother)

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Ok, he was pretty rusty in the whole sexy Scandinavian language department, but Eric knew a diss when he heard one. “Well, if you’d really like to know what I think,” the blond man shrugged, looking down slightly with a sad and almost pious expression. Until a smirk flew back onto his lips. “You’re already ruined.” Ooh that…sounded much better in his head. -Actual fighting starts HERE! Eric charged, taking advantage of that high and GLORIOUS (*blegh*) head to TRY AND sink his teeth into the boy’s left jaw or cheek. Flesh is flesh, you know. His own crown tilted to the right in order to make his attack, and his ears were pressed flush against his pale fur. As he lunged, he’d unsheathe his claws ATTEMPT to slam his right paw down onto the kid’s left (paw), his weight shifting in that direction as well. Come on buddy, we have a reputation to keep. Eric vs @Tyr For Dominance/OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE HE JUST CALLED ME SOFT *fans self* Round 1/3 Hits: Rolling 5d20: 1 + 5 + 14 + 8 + 18 Dodges: Rolling 3d20: 19 + 20 + 18 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 1 + 20 + 11 + 4 + 10 But "Sentimental Boy" is my nom de plume Art by Swan, Code by Swan (fixed by Cala)

Ragnarok Awaits

Instruments of wrath, indeed. And now it was time to use them. The older male thought he was so much better than Tyr? And why? Like hell if Tyr knew, but at the same time, the pale Heathen never truly needed a reason to sink his fangs into flesh.

The older male lunged, aiming his fangs at Tyr's face. Just as quickly, Tyr pushed off the ground with his rear legs as he rushed forward as well. Tyr attempted to sink his fangs into Eric's left shoulder blade, as (since his face was no longer there) Eric's own teeth made contact with the left side of the yearling's neck.

Tyr felt Eric's paw rake across his left wrist, and in turn, Tyr lifted his right paw in an attempt to slam it heavily into the right side of Eric's ribcage. Hooked claws unsheathed, he simultaneously attempted to catch the flesh where his strike was intended to land.

Tyr vs. @Eric
Dominance / You Dare Challenge MEEE >:I
Round 1 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 7 + 13 + 3 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 6 + 9

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 4 + 8 + 16 + 15

code by corvus

If the best villains are the ones that are heroes in their own minds. What happens to those heroes who cannot seem themselves as anything…other than villains? Then again, I’m of the belief that there are no heroes. We don’t deserve them. -fighting HERE!- And so, the flow of music began, as the blood came bubbling up and dribbled down his shoulder. There was no where to go really, and his flesh was almost served up on a platter for those fangs to sink into. The pain was hot, so different from the cold, clenched feeling constantly wandering around his stomach. But it was all forgotten under the vampiric pleasure of biting down on a throbbing neck. I mean, he preferred women, but this was just gonna have to do. He barely had time to register where his paw had landed when the claws came to strike his flank. Leaning as he was towards the right, the gashes bloomed easily. The kid's claws basically took a stroll across his ribcage! Eric moved a little towards his left, shifting his weight, so that those dastardly daggers couldn’t find a foothold in his flesh. At the same time, he’d lift his right paw and ATTEMPT to rake his claws down the boy’s front, unaware of the exact target as he still hadn’t released his prey and it was…well…blocking his view. And since he was moving to his own left, Eric would make the most of it and TRY AND drag his teeth down the kid’s neck before freeing it. Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow. Eric vs @Tyr For Dominance/OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE HE JUST CALLED ME SOFT *fans self* Round 2/3 Hits: Rolling 5d20: 19 + 20 + 8 + 15 + 17 Dodges: Rolling 3d20: 18 + 7 + 5 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 16 + 4 + 2 + 7 + 13 But "Sentimental Boy" is my nom de plume Art by Swan, Code by Swan (fixed by Cala)

Ragnarok Awaits

Perhaps it is the contrary, however, that there are nothing but heroes. A hero of one's own story, told only by the one who has lived it, would surely be one-sided... but after all, who is ever the villain of a story all their own?

In this story, between Tyr and Eric, Tyr saw himself as the fierce and dominant hero bent on making a lasting impression that would live up to his future title as King of all Amaryllis. This man, Eric, would soon have a riveting story of his brush with the White Heathen, having lived to tell the tale! Tyr would give this land a Hero it deserved, and a Hero it needed... perhaps, though... not one it wanted. But did the lions of this land know what they wanted, truly?

Fighting Here

Tyr felt the other man's flesh give way as his fangs punctured through, opening the warm spring of life-blood to flow over his tongue deliciously. It almost distracted him from the pain that burst from his neck as Eric's own fangs clamped down. Tyr, however, couldn't help the upward curl of his maw as his newly sharpened claws cut across Eric's ribs like a hot knife through butter. Even so, he was unable to land a proper grip as Eric shifted his weight over to his left. Oh well.

Tyr then felt the gripping pain of claws raking down the front of his left shoulder blade, snarling through the bubbling blood at the sensation. At the same time, Eric drug his teeth down the perch on Tyr's young neck before he released him. Tyr however, was not interested in giving his prize up so easily. Tyr Attempted to instead Tighten his grip as he snaked his head side to side violently in an attempt to rip the chunk of flesh he held from it's host. At the same time, Tyr lifted his right paw again, bringing it up higher to attempt to slash at the left side of Eric's face.

Tyr vs. @Eric
Dominance / You Dare Challenge MEEE >:I
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 19 + 20 + 15 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 18 + 10

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 20 + 9 + 14 + 4

code by corvus