here comes the danger up in this club; kota

[Dovev]

dovev

It was happening again.

The pain lanced through him and his body tensed, his eyes slamming tightly shut. He tried to ride it out, tried to breathe through it as the magician taught him, but damn if this time wasn't worse than the others. He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might break, tasted the blood of his tongue hot in his mouth, and still it came. Bones shifting within him, rumbling and moving and pressing against him from the inside.

Ah!

His back seized sharply from the pain and he fell hard to his knees, choking back another cry. He groaned quietly, felt the armor gradually pushing out a little further. The ripped flesh bled freely, tainting the edges of bone a dirty pink and pooling over to drip down his sides. But that was normal, it had always done that. Why was this time so much worse?

Another spasm threw him on his side, his whole body violently trembling. Tears trickled helplessly from his shuttered black eyes, and he silently begged for the end. It wouldn't come so quickly, he knew. God, and this time was so much worse. He felt pressure at his sides and lifted his head to inspect it with pain-blurred eyes. What he saw only made him groan again and drop his head back to the ground.

Another one. Goddamn, another one. Another plate of bone trying to come in, to rip out of him. His sunken skin was pulled taut across the lip of it, and it pressed with agonizing pressure. It hurt so bad. So fucking bad. He'd have to tear it open, but he could hardly move under the excruciating pain attacking him from the inside. He was dimly aware of another presence, and he cursed the timing of this damn growth. Never be in a position where you can't fight. Always be ready. Yeah, yeah, he knew. But it couldn't be helped this time. It was too much to bear while standing, too much to bear in silence.

He forced himself to sit up, strangling another groan in his throat before opening sharp and furiously glaring black eyes to the other. A woman. Quiet and still in the shadows of this god-forsaken forest. His pupils shrank with another wave of pain and he blinked through it. What are you looking at, he snapped.

Its alright, you'll be fine baby, I'm in control
Take the pain, Take the pleasure. I'm the master of both

@[kota]

[kota]

So quietly, so peacefully she watches the dead leaves break free of the branches and drift, tumble, float down to the moss and stones and roots littering the soil below. She’s found a grove of willows, the terrain is moist, swampy even, and these trees love it. Wisteria of all different colors clings to the draping strings and branches. As if by magic, these abundant vines are only this dense here and bloom all year long in their soft shades of blue, purple, and chartreuse. Shallow pools of clear water grow bright yellow flowers and harbor clutches of tall pitcher plants. Venus fly-traps also lurk across the humid ground – this is a pleasant place to come to this time of year, she’s found. It appears as if no one else comes here, or at least not often enough to make a path or eat down the sweet white berries growing on the small shrubs and intoxicating leaves of the ‘honey-wine tree’ [a name given to it by others before her time]. They’re delicious and nutritious but eating too many can make you drunk or sick, or both, but eating just the right amount makes you relaxed or even sleepy. They have the ability to ease pain this time of year when their leaves gather all they can before detaching in the first snowfall.  She snatches a few from an overhanging branch, chomping happily when abruptly a thick cloud of white birds swarms overhead. They’re calling out in alarm, or excitement, one or the other. Kota finishes chewing the tender, delicious leaves, feeling their warmth slide down her throat as she swallows. She hears a thud, crashing branches, disturbed leaf litter.

The commotion draws the blue-eyed girl closer to its source. She comes upon a suffering stallion, prone, writhing and twitching, bleeding and groans burbling from his mouth. She keeps a respectable distance from him and peers from the evergreen bushes that only reach her porcelain chest. Poor thing, she blends like snow on dark stone which is to say she doesn’t blend at all,.

When he snaps a her she sours. Her curious expression morphs easily into a scowl, her pink lips wrinkled with irritation. With her healing gone, she can offer him little but conversation – she would offer him some honey-wiine leaves, but already his attitude is quite shit. She won’t be rewarding that, and this thought makes a smirk play at one side of her rosy muzzle while her icy eyes focus on the sitting stranger who hoisted himself up with a painful sort of sound. She steps out from the green and into the mid-evening light of a shadowy forest, her voice like silk with a creamy, rich, ancient Valley accent. “You.” she purrs as the shadows spill off of her milky curves and the dim luminance of a setting sun find her glassy wet eyes. “I’m looking at you.” She stops short of reaching distance, inspecting him head to toe with no emotion in her scrutinizing stare. “Will you live?” Her gaze evens with his face, his eyes if he looks at her.

Kota

those great whites,

they have big teeth

@[Dovev]

[Dovev]

dovev

”You. I’m looking at you.”
Smartass.

Yeah. I see that, he snapped again. What the hell, woman. What was her deal? She came closer, forest shadows sliding down the flawless cream of her body. That might have been a little distracting, had he not been riddled in pain just then. Even still, his eyes tracked the movement, studied the curve of her muscles as she stepped closer, almost reachable. He felt her impassive gaze taking in all of him too, until each of them finished their inspection of the other and their eyes met.

”Will you live?”

He almost smiled, almost snorted in amusement, nothing fucking kills him, but another wave of growth took him over and laid him flat on his side again, body quaking and jaw clenched tight. God, he could’ve killed her if he wasn’t so damn incapacitated. If he felt like it. Maybe had a little fun with her first, maybe a delicious mix of pleasure and pain with both their blood painting the white of her a wicked pink. Show her a bit of fun, yeah. But, alas. Clearly wasn’t going to happen today.

When the pulsing agony subsided this time, he remained where he was, panting and breathing heavy. It was a testament to his intense training that he wasn’t crying like a babe and begging for death. His master had taught him well, built up his tolerance for pain along with these damn phases of growth. But there was still the tight pressure against his skin near one of his ribs where a new plate was trying to rupture through. God, he needed to break it free, but as he sat up again and stretched toward it -go fucking figure- it was out of his reach. Fuck. He glanced around, depressed by his dismal options. No sharp rocks, no magician to cut it free, no bastard Zoryn to piss off so he attacks. Trees. Stupid fucking trees. Dammit, that was going to be tricky, going to hurt like hell.

His black stare fell to her, looked her over again. Damn, she probably wasn’t strong enough. Whatever. Worth a shot, he supposed. Come here, he said quietly, a little breathlessly, so weary from fighting the pain with eyes gone dull and bleak. Please.

He shifted to the side a little so that he could be braced against a tree, still folded on the ground below her. He gestured with his nose at the hidden armor plate, a raised line down his side like a rib grown too wide for his body. Tear it --fuuuck! He broke off with another groan, more pain, more pressure. God, it was getting worse. Tears pricked at his eyes again as he tried to focus on her, breaking into a sweat and making his hair stick to the plate masking his face.

Tear it open. Hoof probably best. Not sure those pretty teeth of yours have ever ripped apart anything but grass.. He chuckled weakly, then sobered as he continued. Otherwise, no. I won’t live. And I gotta baby, you know? Needs me. Ahh, but he couldn’t help it. He flashed her a wicked smile, humor glittering in his dark eyes. Or maybe you could gimme a last kiss before I die. She did look pretty delicious.

Its alright, you'll be fine baby, I'm in control
Take the pain, Take the pleasure. I'm the master of both

[kota]

She only bent an ear when he snapped again, leering with a cocked head like a curious and hungry cat. She stays just out of grasping distance and begins to make a half circle around him, her pink nose to the dirt. The rusty smell of blood and freshly torn flesh wafts freely from where he stirs the ground with his sweaty squirming. She watches him struggle with an indifferent sort of stare in her pale eyes. “Come here,” his voice barks over the softness of a quiet day all around them. His bone covered face lets the blackness of his eyes show and they hook into her somehow. She feels it and the sensation makes her head jerk back up and her small feet unravel into a slight retreat. His plea seems like a beg, but it feels sticky like a trap to her. 

He suffers before her a little more and a little more; struggling all over the place, really. She’s rather unfazed by it all on the outside and well, on the inside too actually. It  must be some sort of  joke, she stews, to taunt my lack of healing ability – I cannot even help bones come through anymore? She grimaces involuntarily and comes out of her own mind, back into the scene with a wailing jackal of a bony-boy begging for her help. She pulls back a lip in disgust, uhm…What? He pleads, even adds something about a baby, she lets out a giggle that she couldn’t help. How did I even get here, ya know? She shakes her head, a smile of sarcasm and small amount of entertainment forming across her pink lips. She takes a few steps back and sucks in a deep breath. She doesn’t charge him, but approaches carefully; it just might be a trick… When upon him she rises slow and steadily on her hind feet, lay one, two, three whacks with a fore hoof. She targets the point where his skin is the most taut, wanting to rip and she hopes it works this  first try. It’s a rather uncomfortable way to assist a stranger, though it's undeniably satisfying to punch someone free of consequence (in theory).

She comes back down to all fours gently and steps away to examine him at a safe distance. His kiss comments go unanswered and she looks at him like an eagle would a wounded rabbit. One eye on him, a tilted head, her cold gaze moving all over his bloodied, bone plated skinny body. 

Kota

those great whites,

they have big teeth

@[Dovev]

[Dovev]

dovev

She was cautious. Wary. His eyes would've sharpened on her had they not been so dulled with pain as they were.

And then she was stupid. And she laughed at his comment about his child. He glared obsidian daggers at her, his jaw clenched tight. Sure, he might have said it as a ploy, an attempt to win over some sort of sympathy for his strange problem here. But it sure as hell didn't mean it wasn't the truth. He had a daughter. It didn't matter that she didn't really need him. She'd abandoned him, truthfully, preferred his enemy of her own father. She was still his and not a goddamn person would laugh at the mention of her.

Call him fiercely loyal.

And sure, maybe he looked a bit young to have kids. He probably was. He'd taken his mother the very moment he was of age, and that really wasn't that long ago. A couple years, maybe.

Did he say his?
He meant hers.

Finally, this girl approached him. So carefully, so cautious. He smirked at her wariness, pushing back the rage for now. Maybe she should be skeptical of him, but he wasn't getting much done lying prone here on the ground at her feet, now was he? She was going to help with that, though. And she did, eventually.

He tensed and waited for it, feeling the pressure so painfully tight on his skin. She rose, balanced herself so evenly, and he stared. Damn, she looked pretty good, though, really. Too bad she ignored his kiss comment, that could've been fun. Eh, it could still happen. But he was brought back again as she struck him. It took a few times but finally his skin ripped and the lip of bone was freed. He bit back a cry, groaning tight in his throat instead with tears stinging his eyes. Fuck, that hurt. But it was so much better than the pressure.

Blood spilled freely from the wound, and as always, he ignored it. He rolled to get his feet under him, his movements stiff. His legs trembled and he threw a glare at her, daring her to say a damn thing about it. He could still tear her apart if he wanted. But he turned instead, gave her the other side of him as he sank back to the ground again, braced to that goddamned tree again. He sighed.

Symmetrical, these armor plates. Where one grew, another mirrored it on the other side. Dammit.

How bout another go, beautiful? Maybe I can help you with something after, or something... His voice faded off into a mumble, not really sure what the hell he could possibly do for her. Unless she needed someone killed, maybe. Tracked down. Far better if she'd just do it without some sort of payment. That'd be great, yeah. Oh, or pleasure. He could pay in pleasure, for sure. She definitely wouldn't regret that.

He smiled sweetly at her and waited for her next attack.

Its alright, you'll be fine baby, I'm in control
Take the pain, Take the pleasure. I'm the master of both

[kota]

She repeated much off the same for the next go round. She saunters toward him unabashed and very unceremoniously smashing him with her pointed little feet and stepping away to spin and face him. She hasn’t spoken much of this whole time, it has been mostly him with his snaky voice and his poisonous, horny eyes. She’ll not admit it, but she sort of likes the male attention – she’s never relished in it, really, but at almost six years old and still a virgin, her body is hungry for something it’s never had. Whims. She doesn’t bend to them for now, or at least not in an obvious way. “Are we done with this now?” Her voice is like sweet cream, it does not match her sour attitude, but it does match her porcelain skin and cloudless blue eyes. She whips her tail and steps forward one more time, just to exercise her lack of fear for his rapey sort of demeanor.

Intrigued and quite suspicious, she watches him carefully. She inspects his bone plates, bloodied and warm (she can feel the heat they’re giving off). It’s hot business forming bone and projecting it through skin. She gestures her rosy muzzle to the torn flesh, “Will the gashes heal on their own or should we find someone?” Again that silk voice bubbles softly from her pale lips and her gaze steady on the armored man.

Kota

those great whites,

they have big teeth

[Dovev]

dovev

html by Toli, overall design and quote style based on "Dovev" by Laura

His smile wins him nothing.
All business, this one.

He sighed inwardly. Gone were the days when he was thick and muscled and attractive. As a colt, he'd been larger than some grown men, even. But his magic had been thrust on him and now his once-flawless skin was sunken in and starved, nothing but skin and bones ruptured through with more bone meant to protect him. And there weren't many at all that would wish him safe. His voice, though, remained clear and infinitely smooth, whisper soft, or sharp and bladed.

He sighed aloud this time, and braced himself once again for her attack. Or, her aid, he supposed. Technically.

She stepped to him without fear, and even before she lifted to strike him again, he could feel the pressure in his body build. The plate of bone shifted, another phase of growth that sprung a tear to his eye and he grit his teeth as it pressed mercilessly outward. His already-taut skin pulled even tighter, stretching painfully to accommodate the newest shard of armor.

But, thankfully, with a few more strikes, she freed him. The pressure released at last, and this time he didn't get up but only lay there breathing heavily through lingering pain and the spill of blood trailing down his side. That was well enough, since he couldn't twist around to clean it anyway.

"Are we done with this now," she asked, just a little too sweetly. He gave her a sideways glance, reading more annoyance or impatience in her posture than anything remotely sweet. But he shrugged, rather nonchalant, and nodded. With a groan and a stretch of torn skin, he lifted to his feet, pushing his body to accept wide movement in case he needed to act quickly.

She took a step forward, the impossibly smooth cream of her skin nearing, and his eyes snapped to her. He stood in place as her eyes wandered over him, studying him, taking in the bloodied bone plates thrusting out from burning hot skin, the blue of his legs and the million galaxies of stars embedded in them, slicked with crimson trails of his fresh wounds.

"Will the gashes heal on their own," she asked as she finished her examination, "or should we find someone?"

A healer, she meant a healer. No, he blurted a little too quickly, a little too sharply. He glanced away, quickly masking the flash of hurt in his rich, black eyes. Leliana. Leliana. She'd been the only one besides his magician master to have ever healed him, and he'd hated how it drained her. Too many wounds, he always had too many wounds. Most times weren't bad enough, but she'd nearly killed herself trying to bring him back from the brink of death. Oh, how he'd cried over her body, only to snap and snarl at her the moment she woke for doing it.

She should have let him die.

Leliana. His heart squeezed painfully, tears of a different kind threatened to rim his eyes, and the muscle in his jaw twitched against his clamped teeth. Leliana. Gone, now.
Gone forever. But finally safe from him.

No.. he said softer, returning to her with a dead stare. No healers. He glanced to his wounds, passive and indifferent. They would never heal, only dry and crust around the bone, then bleed freely again at the next growth phase, or even if he stretched it and broke it free with too much movement. But he didn't tell her that. He looked back to her again, searching the crystal blue of her eyes for a moment in silence. She asked.. out of politeness, probably. Neutral concern for a stranger.

He broke eye contact and started walking. Thanks for the help. He gave nothing more, - no name, didn't ask for hers - as he kept walking. Probably best that he return to his hunt, run down the man of iron and kill him as he was directed. And forget about this encounter like so many others before it.

You've only got ten more paces to live
Enjoy your last moments. They're my gift to give

[kota]

She’s seen others with this ‘bone armor’ lurking around this odd and ever changing place. Being born into such an exotic world makes one callous to things like bones piercing through from the inside to protect you in battle. Some part of her burns with jealousy at her empty-handedness – her magic has been stripped and she cannot feel whole without it.
No. The lightening snap of his voice makes her attention find him quickly, like a pupil being scolded for her wandering eye. Her eyes are wide and innocent for a second but only a very fleeting second and then they are hardened and cold on him once again. No healers. His voice loses all of its spirit and his bloody body turns to walk away. She feels her throat lumping and her heart sinking like a lonely child watching the last familiar face leave. She feels abandoned, she notices, but her wrinkled pink lips and her teary blue eyes are not within his view. His back in turned and he’s well on his way now.

She had expected him to surely play games with her some more,  a bit of his sadistic flirting perhaps. Her disappointment puzzles her and makes her angry with herself for being so infantile. When he’s out of view she turns and does the same in the opposite direction. There’s a mysterious pang in her belly, or her heart? Which is it? The days of solitude are wearing on her now and it is time, she speculates, to find somewhere to be and something to do.

Kota

those great whites,

they have big teeth

oh my. what a weird reaction from her.
she's a like a brat and then like..."but wait...i'm lonely"
weirdo XD

this was fun, they'll have to meet again <3