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+--- Thread: Valley of Gold the drake (/showthread.php?tid=64855)
the drake - Ikaros Eliades - February 10, 2025
ikaros has always fucking hated the heat.
he moves beneath the sun, the darkness of his pelt absorbing the light. soaking it in, making him unbearably hot. he's pissed—then then again, when wasn't he?
lips pulled into a grimace, his ears turned sideward. irritated, hot, and hungry. a terrible combo for a man with a short fuse. he doesn't know why he traveled this way; there was no good reason. he didn't like change, and he'd just tossed himself into hell. quite literally, in his opinion.
but, it was too late to turn back. at least without something in his stomach or a drink, though he doubted he'd find either in this fucking wasteland.
he'd smelled wolves earlier. how in the hells could anyone live down here? baking in the sun all day, only to deal with the freezing cold nights. he tells himself he won't stay southern long, but...
indignantly, he continues trudging through the scorching sand. perhaps traveling down here would be worth something in the end.
he moves beneath the sun, the darkness of his pelt absorbing the light. soaking it in, making him unbearably hot. he's pissed—then then again, when wasn't he?
lips pulled into a grimace, his ears turned sideward. irritated, hot, and hungry. a terrible combo for a man with a short fuse. he doesn't know why he traveled this way; there was no good reason. he didn't like change, and he'd just tossed himself into hell. quite literally, in his opinion.
but, it was too late to turn back. at least without something in his stomach or a drink, though he doubted he'd find either in this fucking wasteland.
he'd smelled wolves earlier. how in the hells could anyone live down here? baking in the sun all day, only to deal with the freezing cold nights. he tells himself he won't stay southern long, but...
indignantly, he continues trudging through the scorching sand. perhaps traveling down here would be worth something in the end.
RE: the drake - Arkane - February 13, 2025
a dark shape traipses through the dunes and toward the stranger with intent, head low. he pauses in front of him, towering above like a dreaded shadow.
"you were not invited here. i would know of it." arkane circles the intruder like a predator, scrutinizing. he is not aggressive-- not yet. this stranger is clearly strong, as evidenced by the muscle rippling beneath his coat. perhaps samirseti will make use of him. arkane certainly plans to.
he sits down in the sand, tail sweeping the golden grains as he settles. he has learned to tolerate the heat to an extent, although he still supplements his days with cold baths (alone or otherwise). arkane licks his lips, silently awaiting an explanation. no one would fault him for maiming an intruder, but it would be a downright shame to mar such a pretty coat with rivers of blood.
RE: the drake - Ikaros Eliades - February 13, 2025
there was a dark blot on the horizon. ikaros' eyes narrowed. was the heat making his mind slip? was this some sort of mirage? either way, he tenses. lean muscle coiling beneath short fur, his withers prickling with unease.
it moves closer. a massive wolf, shrouded in hues of black and a red he's never seen before. he would've been easy on the eyes, if ikaros wasn't so grouchy. all he sees right now is a threat.
ears pin against his head, and his lips curl into a sneer. a piss-poor choice; he wouldn't last long in a scuffle with this man, but that's never stopped him before. he's driven by anger, always has been. handsome strangers don't change that.
"invited?" he scoffed, thin tail lashing. why the fuck would he even want to be invited to this hell hole? and more importantly, or perhaps unsettling—who would invite him?
eyes of gold bore into the stranger, sharp and uninviting. he doesn't like the way this man is leering at him, and it's obvious in the way he shifts on his paws, the way his hackles prick.
he would know of it. what a pompous bastard.
"invited where? i'm here on my own accord." foolishly, probably, but it doesn't matter. "who are you, anyway?" he less so asks and instead demands.
it moves closer. a massive wolf, shrouded in hues of black and a red he's never seen before. he would've been easy on the eyes, if ikaros wasn't so grouchy. all he sees right now is a threat.
ears pin against his head, and his lips curl into a sneer. a piss-poor choice; he wouldn't last long in a scuffle with this man, but that's never stopped him before. he's driven by anger, always has been. handsome strangers don't change that.
"invited?" he scoffed, thin tail lashing. why the fuck would he even want to be invited to this hell hole? and more importantly, or perhaps unsettling—who would invite him?
eyes of gold bore into the stranger, sharp and uninviting. he doesn't like the way this man is leering at him, and it's obvious in the way he shifts on his paws, the way his hackles prick.
he would know of it. what a pompous bastard.
"invited where? i'm here on my own accord." foolishly, probably, but it doesn't matter. "who are you, anyway?" he less so asks and instead demands.
RE: the drake - Arkane - February 18, 2025
"i am vahanet's alay-basi, nectanebo. sword of the pharaoh." his tongue slides across his teeth, lip curling in warning, but he remains otherwise calm. collected.
"this kingdom is not yours to roam. choose your words carefully, boy. you would do well to remain respectful." he stands, towering over the wiry male below him with a huff. he will not guide him straight to samirseti's grounds, however...
"come with me if you wish to eat and drink, boy. if you do not follow, or if you run, i will catch you. know that you will not survive a fight with me." he glances over his shoulder with a wicked grin, red eyes shining with thinly veiled violence. he is a man who craves a fight, who will run toward it rather than away. this scrawny stranger had best be grateful he is still in one piece.
there is a stream nearby, with clean water to drink. it is not as pure as the water within the oasis, but it is enough. for now, it is all nectanebo will offer.
RE: the drake - Ikaros Eliades - February 20, 2025
boy? ikaros' blood boiled then. something rotten, something violent. he is a man! perhaps a pathetic excuse for one, a snide voice monologues in the back of his mind, but still a man! lips curl and his jaw sets, his annoyance scrawled so blatantly across his expression.
what a pompous prick. he didn't give two shits about what this meat-heads title was. to him, it meant nothing. with a lash of his slim tail, he sucks at his teeth. this man is nothing but a pawn to his proclaimed pharaoh. "those do not impress me, you oaf." he spat.
as much as he hated to admit it, the beast was right. ikaros would be felled as quick as he could spit out some smart-ass comment. he'd be left to rot out here in the sun, his flesh to be stripped from his bones by buzzards. he sneered, ears planing backward for a moment. perhaps it'd be worth it, putting a chink in the pharaohs sword.
his face was hot with irate. "fine," he growled. "but i would fell you, if i could. it would be a pleasure." he grumbled sourly. kicking at the sand, he meandered forward, his head level with his shoulders. sulking.
what a pompous prick. he didn't give two shits about what this meat-heads title was. to him, it meant nothing. with a lash of his slim tail, he sucks at his teeth. this man is nothing but a pawn to his proclaimed pharaoh. "those do not impress me, you oaf." he spat.
as much as he hated to admit it, the beast was right. ikaros would be felled as quick as he could spit out some smart-ass comment. he'd be left to rot out here in the sun, his flesh to be stripped from his bones by buzzards. he sneered, ears planing backward for a moment. perhaps it'd be worth it, putting a chink in the pharaohs sword.
his face was hot with irate. "fine," he growled. "but i would fell you, if i could. it would be a pleasure." he grumbled sourly. kicking at the sand, he meandered forward, his head level with his shoulders. sulking.
RE: the drake - Arkane - February 21, 2025
nectanebo barks a laugh, muscled shoulders heaving once. such fire, such tenacity in the face of insurmountable odds. time will tell whether it lasts.
"many have tried to fell me. all have failed, miserably so. get in line behind them if you wish that to be your end." he ambles on ahead, hips swaying lackadaisically. he has come to know these sands as he once knew the mountains, by scent and by sky.
eventually they reach the stream, and arkane motions for his guest to drink. the moment he does, the larger male slinks off across the dunes and disappears without a trace, returning a long while later with a dead hyrax clasped in his jaws. he refuses to waste his energy on anything larger. leaping across the stream where ikaros rests, nectanebo drops it at his feet with a grunt.
"eat, drink and be gone if it pleases you."
RE: the drake - Ikaros Eliades - March 03, 2025
with a roll of his eyes, he scoffs. "are you always this insufferably pompous? or am i just special?" he grumbled. the man's boastfulness was nothing if not fucking irritating. men like him were always the same; claiming the could not be felled, could not be touched, as if they were some sort of god-spawn. but he would meet his end one day. ikaros finds himself hoping it's bloody, gruesome, and slow.
he does not thank the brute for leading him to water. instead, he flashes him a sharp stare, before he's leaning down to greedily lap at the cool liquid. he practically inhales the water; he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank. his throat less parched, meaning his mood slightly less irritable. he doesn't bother asking where the man is off too when he disappears beyond the dunes. instead, he's hoping the beast finally got bored and wandered away.
luck was never in his favor, though. the man returns and tosses something horrific at his paws. ikaros reels back in disgust, lips curled, tail tucked. "what in the hells is that? you expect me to eat this?" he spat. a dark paw poked at the dead creature. it was far from the venison and fish he was accustomed to. never in his life had he been tossed something so...gross!
but alas, hunger claws at his sides. with a grimace, he puts his pride aside to begin tearing into the creature. his maw wrinkles with each bite, but he swallows morsels with a hunger unfamiliar. again, he does not offer thanks. instead, he wonders why the man has not only led him to drink, but why he even bothered feeding him.
ikaros does no trust it. does not trust him. most men, in his experiences, did not offer such gifts unless they wanted something.
"what is it you want?" he asked, blunt and pointed. "you must be after something."
he does not thank the brute for leading him to water. instead, he flashes him a sharp stare, before he's leaning down to greedily lap at the cool liquid. he practically inhales the water; he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank. his throat less parched, meaning his mood slightly less irritable. he doesn't bother asking where the man is off too when he disappears beyond the dunes. instead, he's hoping the beast finally got bored and wandered away.
luck was never in his favor, though. the man returns and tosses something horrific at his paws. ikaros reels back in disgust, lips curled, tail tucked. "what in the hells is that? you expect me to eat this?" he spat. a dark paw poked at the dead creature. it was far from the venison and fish he was accustomed to. never in his life had he been tossed something so...gross!
but alas, hunger claws at his sides. with a grimace, he puts his pride aside to begin tearing into the creature. his maw wrinkles with each bite, but he swallows morsels with a hunger unfamiliar. again, he does not offer thanks. instead, he wonders why the man has not only led him to drink, but why he even bothered feeding him.
ikaros does no trust it. does not trust him. most men, in his experiences, did not offer such gifts unless they wanted something.
"what is it you want?" he asked, blunt and pointed. "you must be after something."
RE: the drake - Samirseti - March 09, 2025
commotion has attracted the tastes of the pharaoh; that, and the prolonged absence of arkane. nostrils wet, he scents after the masculine, searching the dunes for him. pleased only when he sees the man in the distance, but brows sliding above gilded eyes when he is not alone.
jealousy? no. samir does not get jealous. his chin upturns and he comes forth.
movements slender, easy. black paws splaying sand, maneuvering with the feline grace he is revered for as he narrows down upon the both of them.
silent as he awaits introduction.
RE: the drake - Arkane - March 10, 2025
nectanebo lifts his head at the approach of another, red eyes warming at the sight of his man. he had hoped samirseti would come. alay-basi resists the temptation to bury his muzzle in silken neck fur, instead sidling to stand by his side, shoulders nearly brushing. then, he refocuses his attention on the starving man, the one he has so kindly fed. the one who dares defy him, but he will not do so now. not if he wants to live.
"you wandered here, alone. weak. i have been polite. i have fed you. you now stand before the undisputed ruler of these lands, hem-netjer en kemet."
"bow." the word cuts through the thick desert air, unrepentantly dominant in its command.
"bow to your pharaoh." his voice holds no hint of formality, playful demeanor gone. his pharaoh is present, and such disrespect will not be tolerated. the stranger will relent now, or he will be lucky to leave these lands in one piece.