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Mouse
Royal Consort
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Join date : 2009-09-17
Age : 29

PostSubject: Mouse' random writing   Mon Nov 16, 2009 9:11 am

Nikola's feet kicked uselessly at the armor covering the massive scarabin's chest, dangling as he was from the iron like grip on his throat it was really all he could do in his own defence as he gagged trying in vain to suck in more air. The brute's mask parted slightly, a hot wisp of air, like stream filtering out from between deadly jaws which would have made his flail harder, but dizziness was setting in, clouding his vision, like an endless black sea, rolling in to take him under, drag him to its cold fathomless depth and never let him go. Spots flashes in a macabre ballet across his gaze as his fingers dug at the hand clamped down around his neck; if he didn't suffocate first he'd have a broken neck by the end of it.

Falling limp in his captor's grasp, it was assumed the fight had gone out of him, and he could hear the odd sound, like chuckling from the scarabin, which he promptly silences with a vicious smirk. Utterly confused by what could have his prey smiling he jerked his head about, snorting into the air when he found nothing but rocks around him. "It...might just be lack of oxygen my friend but I do believe you are about to hurt, very badly." Nikola choked out between sucking in breath through his teeth.
He watched the giant's eyes widen a little, confusion at his words that couldn't manifest into a full thought because it was in that heart beat of a moment that the dark, shadowy form of Nikola's sibling dropped from the cliff face and to the ground behind the beetle. Nikodemus moved like a whip crack, wild fire hair the only blur of color as he climbed the massive armored form and, snarling like some mad, soulless beast dug his wicked needle like claws into the soft fleshy tissue on either side of the beetle's mask. Pulling and tearing trenches into the only soft spot on its face, thick blood coating his hands.

Nikola felt himself hit the ground before he really had registered that he been freed from his assailant’s grasp. After a few deep, laboured breaths his vision cleared and he could see what was going on about him.
Nikodemus had dropped down from the Scarbin, dodging under a swing from an arm like a tree limb and bringing those talons up into another notch in the armor along the abdomen, spilling more thick liquid and other thicker things which made wet sounds on the ground.

The red headed arachin was still hissing, but his lips had twisted from a snarl to a smirk as he toppled the giant and mounted his form, standing on the shoulder plates. He watched his brother crouch down over the still breather, although heaving, from and dig his talons into the plates of his mask and pull, with all the force his slender body could put into the action. There was a great fount of blood that gushed up and washed over Nikodemus and something made a hard wet thump on the ground where he through it.
Panting softly he stepped down from the mangled form and turned, flashing fire like eyes onto his sibling who was now standing and dusting of his top hat with a frown.

Nikola didn't have time to adjust his clothing mind you, because he was quickly ensnared in the tight, iron grip of his brother's limbs, still slick with blood up the elbows and much of his torso. He felt his sibling burry his face into his neck, breathing him in and making small churring sounds.

“I know, I know, I had you worried, I know he could have crushed me... but you got here in time." He whispered, replacing his hat on top of his head with a smirk as if they were not standing a foot away from a ravaged corpse, and his brother was not the violent, machine of savagery that caused it.

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PostSubject: Skald, of frozen breath   Wed Dec 01, 2010 2:51 am

The wind to most would have felt like a thousand biting teeth, nipping at any area of exposed flesh or chitin. For Skald however it was a welcome caress, the touch of his homeland, which blew his hair, tangled mane of strands and braids that it was back from his face.

He breathed in the bitter scent of ice and felt it sooth his tired bones.
His cloak wipped about a moment before stilling around his powerful legs once more, his mitt covered hands threaded loosly in the thick fur of the pelt about his throat. He could feel the solid heat of the twin hounds beside him, loyal and close as always. His gaze settled on the encammpment where his brothers and sisters, though blood did not run through them were settled and his heart lifted and the weight of a long travle left him with a sigh that drew his breath out in a long smokey whisp.

He had been gone too long, but what the Gods comannded of him, he did with out hesitation.

(( the start of many more Skald rambleings to come))

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