He moves with a rapid beat to his untamed step. He's refined and O so terribly wretched. He's the divine disguise of sin, and yet there's a classy regalia about him. Vermilion. Sneaky. Enchanted. It's terribly strange to pair such words with a man of such force, of such definition, and yet there is nothing more perfect. He is the incarnation of the sins the inhabitants of the word refuse. The imperfect embodiment of rapture.

Wildly, his rough body, his rough musculature, lift over the rocky boundaries of the land and his ears press against his massive skull as an unearthly breeze passes through his coat. He is taken off guard, the unpleasant feeling of the O so pure breeze disturbs him and he responds so dramatically, curses rolling from under his breath. Muscular thighs rest against the ground and his skull tips forward, glaring into the abyss of darkness that is the volcano. He wonders for so long how far he would fall. Eternity? Would that be long enough? Could he merely lay back into the darkness and allow it to swallow him? He knew the answer to his question. He knew that he was wrong to consider such lies. If the land mass was active, he wall fall into a pit of heat. He would writhe in the fires for a split second before darkness befell him and he was no more. On the contrary, if the system was inactive, he would eventually reach the bottom and every bone in his body would crack, would break, and still he would be no more.


His senses were so invoked, so hungrily dissecting the truth. In life there were so many ways to die. So many thing that could take over take one. As his nails curled beneath his toes his rigorous body would rise, chartreuse gaze drifting forward, and for the first time in o so long, a blissful smile would occupy his features. Death. The only answer to life's problems.

Silently he would waltz, guarded by the towering grasses that so ambitiously would attempt to encompass him, to shadow his brilliance with pathetic stalks; perhaps somewhat unnerved by his presence, or unwilling to inform their neighbours. Though defiant The King would remain, parting great stems as if they were concrete towers, each stride presenting a new fluctuation of pride as the ghoul would soar. A superior he was, and his regality would suggest no less, the golden bands hanging about curled elbows would gleam with effortless brilliance in the evening rays; glinting as a representation of his worth. Though distracted the angel would become, lips twitching curiously as the figure of a man would rise to his left; a safe distance, though his sheer size and gender enough to arouse a sense of threat within the albino. A near-by boulder would provide Isardis with the boost he needed, confidence soaring as he would elegantly rise upon it?s surface, gazing now downwards towards the lesser as a pleased chuckle would tarnish the once placid air, ?I asked them once, does size really matter?? he shuddered proudly, bemused, ?I think you?d be disappointed by their response, oh giant one.?

The silence was not something he was unaccustomed to. They, the things of the world, did not flock to him as though they flocked to one another. He was a pariah, pushed out by society, shoved into a glistening lack of existence. And yet, he so adored his lack of exaltation, for he bore the shadows so well, allowed them to attach themselves so finely and provocatively to the fine tendons that strapped his body. He was the master of the shadows, a curse, and yet a blessed whimper in the dream of a child. A blessing in his destruction...how beautiful.

Just as though the world had not already offended him enough by its remarkable and unarguably amazing representation, he would stand in awe at its rudeness to steer the white silhouette towards him. But oh, this leper king was not white, but pink, but different, but embroidered in the finest golds. He was cloaked in riches. Perhaps he was the god of this region, a worshiped saint. Cepheus desired to pick him apart. Gaze would adorn the proud boy, serpent glare locking onto him, admiring his craft, detesting his words, and comforting himself in his boldness. It was an antic so lost. But, he had no nerves to grab hold and climb onto, so the beast was left unaffected.

"Size does not matter. How one utilizes that size is a different topic entirely," the words would fall without any kind of emotion, for he did not need it. They would roll from his tongue in indifference, and beside the sideways glare he had offered the champion lord, he gave him nothing more, only turning his gaze back towards his soon to be empire. The life of mediocrity did not fall well on the shoulders of one so tyrannical.

She came from the west. Upon dark clouds she rode, her arrival in the eastern parts of Alacritia heralded by lightning strikes and heavenly trumpets. Her feet danced across the earth as she moved between trees and grass, staying in the shadows of the land. It was here that she clung, like a survivor tossed against the ocean rocks. Inches from chaos, she dwelt. It was all around her, and served as her driving force. She lived to see men bend their knee to save their burning kingdoms. But she was both the kerosene and the torch. Business had led her to the east, her desire for targets outweighing her eagerness for hunting. The battle that she had incurred while in the battlegrounds satiated her hunger for now. Adrenaline fueled her steps, and although hunger gnawed her belly, there was a deeper seated desire that propelled her now. She was a creature of habit.


Kalypso found herself in the thicket soon after the males had congregated. Her eyes traced the outlines of the pair, her flaming eyes casing the situation before she found herself flung into it. The two were rather odd, indeed ? one impossibly arrogant, while the other stayed rather quiet through the ordeal. She skirted the outsides of the thicket, sticking close to the shadows until she was behind the male atop the boulder. Long legs moved forward with languid precision. The tall grasses parted at her breast, sweeping with touching fingers along her blue sides. Sunlight caressed liquid gold across her frame. Are you trying to hint that you prefer small men? Her contralto voice pierced the silence. To each his own, I suppose.

CODING BY KENZ

The king would present somewhat stumped by the gigantors response, perhaps not suspecting such a dry wisdom; and finding nil pleasure within the creature?s lack of will to argue. Though regardless he would satisfy his aching intelligence with the acknowledgement of a mental victory, accepting his language as the irrational demons defeat, ?Ah, the gargantuan bares wit,? A weak chuckle would suggest his conclusion on the matter, suspecting no abilities to pick and prod at the unemotional beast?s core. Surprisingly, despite presenting as somewhat of a challenge to his power, Isardis couldn?t help but size the sprite up as a potential warrior. Maybe he could knead at his brain enough to morph him into his personal little pawn? He seemed emotionally void enough. After all, the mammoth didn?t seem to odour much of neighbouring packs, if at all.

Coral towers would flicker, captured by the feminine vocals of a loitering wench; though somewhat surprised, he would offer no evidence as to his lack of sense, instead casting an elegant sheet of expectation across slow-gliding features. Delicate skull shifting tranquilly to peer over his shoulder, chest bubbling with amusement as her attitude-infused lyrics would hover his lobes. ?Your buoyancy ruins your beauty; it matters little how I prefer my men, though I can earnestly declare I prefer my women small? and silent,? his jaws would shudder as he became so blissful within his character, swaying somewhat angelically despite the tarnished thoughts that bubbled his wits. He had been lying of course, considering his kingdom were crafted by the pillars of large, intelligent women. Though a woman that served, was a woman with brain, no?

Anything to offer the potential of retaliation. Extended tail would flick idly about tapered hocks, ?But I will make an exception for you darling, as you are particularly pretty,? proudly his perverted attentions would shift, resting again upon the tawny male, ?She would look particularly splendid upon the shelves of a royal kingdom, a golden trophy, no?? Weakly he would offer the question, perhaps not expecting a genuine answer as much as he attempted to provoke some kind of wounded rejoinder. What structures bound the males mind? And the wench? Senses would tune to her, equipped for potential hostility. Oh, one could only hope.

Cepheus saw value in size. The gods they were large beats, capable of holding the world in the palms of their hand, and the larger he became, in number from his youth, and the larger he and they stood, the more power he felt he held. He wanted to dine in the raw tendencies of the world and make them pay for their failures to look at what it was he was most successful in. Leading. He only offered them salvation, was he so wronged? If he was, he couldn't be bothered to care.

Eyes turned over the woman that arrived, her lyrics marching off in tease of the king, Isardis. His green eyes were trained to the svelte portions of her body, looking at the gibbous and rippling thew. She was a good stock. His youth would live well in her. He wanted to have her available, but he wouldn't mention such a thing. He wouldn't speak, for he had no motive, and without motive there was a lack of purpose to do anything. His focus was more trained to the alabaster king. He wanted to know the monarch, to see what his mind reveled in. Clearly it was the want to shove the grey lady down and have her for himself. Interesting.

The white man's words would gather more of a response from the titan and he would watch him, the depths of his chords rumbling forward in his perfect monotone, "What is beauty?" he quipped, his nails pressing into the earth, leaving indentions and massive points that only better showed his origins, "Irrelevant," the beauty of a woman rarely did anything for him. It was what she could burst from her loins and what quality the whelps had that crafted importance. "If she can pull her own, I suppose," he had no use for a body that was nothing more than a waste of space.

Kalypso rather enjoyed herself as the center of attention. It was a position that she knew well, and accepted. Two pairs of eyes trained on her now, one earthy, the other heavenly. The boy stood upon his rock spilling words he believed would provoke the wolves below him. He had brought a butter knife where he should have brought a dagger. Kalypso remained well away from the boulder, just out of reach of the boy if he decided to back his words up with force. As accomplished as she was, the merle shade was no fool. She knew how to pick a fight, especially when given the underhand.


Your buoyancy ruins your beauty; it matters little how I prefer my men, though I can earnestly declare I prefer my women small? and silent, But I will make an exception for you darling, as you are particularly pretty. She would look particularly splendid upon the shelves of a royal kingdom, a golden trophy, no?


Her stony features were teased into a smile. It was an action that whispered of ghoulish intentions and promised terrible retribution. Wildfire flickered in the woman?s glowing eyes, stoked by a fresh dose of gasoline. The boy spoke from a position of ignorance, but it did not rouse anger in the Darksidy woman. Her lean muscles rolled beneath taut skin as she rested upon her haunches. Even in repose, she was lovely. Kalypso?s thin lips stretched across her features into a wicked smile. Only for a little while, but I do get so bored. Her voice hit the air again, referring to the pedestal upon which he wished to place her. Silence twisted a way into her speech. Kalypso?s presence was foreboding, all-consuming. I would rain hellfire upon your Kingdom, and drown you in the holocaust.


It was every inch a promise, even when said between smiling syllables. The woman was a serpent, and it was important not to mistake her for anything other than that. If Isardis determined that she was to join his cause, he could not be surprised when the knife struck his back. Kalypso remained in her peaceful place on the hard earth of the thicket. A wind blew through the forest and against her fur, whisking her scent into the air. Eyes traced their way to the other man that had stood silently while the pair exchanged words. They made their way across his flesh, examining the suppleness that lay beneath. Perhaps, in a different arrangement, Kalypso would have taken a shine to the man. Perhaps, she still would. . If she can pull her own, I suppose. Quite the romantic you are, Sir Green-Eyes. I would be quite surprised if you?ve ever managed to reproduce.

CODING BY KENZ

Elegance, royalty, splendour; they were all of importance to The King, his pride far too great to be tarnished by the weak opinions of dissatisfaction. When his army arose he wanted his opponents to shudder at their marvellousness, to shy beneath the luminosity of their jewels and sink beneath the seamlessness of their strides. Apparently this sullied beast didn?t care for grace, not that he could create it even if he wanted; such a clumsy and dull looking fellow could surely never sire brilliance. Regardless, Isardis found value within his mind-set, his size. Imagine beauty of that height and power, the creature would likely form offspring of greater mass than Isardis?. Perhaps they could come to some sort of? agreement.

Extended tail would swing at muscled haunches, the pink man continuing to roll off pleased chuckles as both parties would express their dry opinions. It was sad really, how dull most of the world was, hence one of the reasons Isardis chose to stake his claim upon a small portion of it; you know, to make it a better place? ?My good sir, you?re missing out,? muse infected his tone, ruby gaze touching tawny features momentarily. ?Do you seek power, a kingdom perhaps? I feel for the men beneath it, deprived of beautiful women and their wombs; but alas, if your plans for greatness falter, Glaciem has an abundance of empty temptress? to welcome you to ranks,? his chuckle would grow for a few moments, though his words sincere. He could use a warrior like this man. And it were true, with his only son unwilling to pass his seed, how could he see to the fertile needs of over 10 broods?

The woman were of little interest to him now, although he?d fancy her as his own little war-factory, he knew she?d be a challenge to achieve. It was women with such defiant natures that pitied him, that clawed at the cages of his demons. Did she think she bore some kind of imaginative power? How sad. A belated reply would fall from cherry lips, though he felt no need to give her his wholesome attentions, ?Oh sweetheart, I?m sure I could entertain you. A mind such as yours surely doesn?t hold much room for challenge?? and again the monster would prod at her nerves, unsatisfied with her earlier retaliations. He would manage no more than a seething chuckle at her final remark, what a mistake it was to threaten his kingdom so, but how could he honestly take such a beetle seriously? The poor child was confused. What a pity. He cared little for the woman now, his attentions upon the hushed gargantuan.

She was quick with her tongue and fervent in her defiance, but he cared little, completely indifferent to her supply or lack of respect when it would be best to uphold such things. She was a powerful little blum? and he would not deny her the things she so seemed to stretch for. Still, his shoulders would roll and he would shake off the words she had whispered onto him. Arguing his ability and chances to one day reproduce, she was wrong, but it was not the point he brought up or cared to debate, ?Cepheus is the title by which you may call me,? the words rolled forward in slick indifference and he turned his head to the pale king that stood not far from either of them.

?If you?re seeking my hand to wage a war, give me a lady and I?ll give you my service,? the serpent only required wives to bring himself peace. He would turn his back on a nation if one would offer him a number that was exceeding the previous. His loyalty was strictly bought, and the one that offered the highest bid got the offer at the end of the day. Here they stood, the pale king being the only one to extend such a gratifying remark. He had shown little emotion over the course of his existence, now he was pleasantly surprised to find he enjoyed where the conversation was going.

?You may find yourself surprised by the capabilities of a woman, sir,? he had seen a woman diminish an entire empire, and she looked the breed to do such a dirty deed. She seethed and writhed in perfection, in flames, and he loved the way the flames so rode in her peculiar eyes, bathing her in intrigue. Perhaps Isardis did not see her for more than her ?pretty? appearance, but for him, looks did little. It was all about what she could offer in the long run. What her children were capable of, and above all, what she deemed her life worthy of. Sometimes, it was up to the one in question to answer such a bold turn of events.

And oh wouldn?t it be divine? The man, although not particularly elegant or attractive, bore the obvious machinery of war. His voidness was even more enticing, and although the beast could have been a potential threat to his superiority; he could so all in his way to keep the man under his simmering control. Lips would tweak as ruby gaze would fall to rest upon the larger man once more, growing somewhat oblivious to the woman now, his interests in her attitude draining as he would chuckle once more. ?You may choose a lady to be yours for as long as you service my kingdom, gargantuan, from memory we have a woman or two whose womb comes of season in the following months,? it was a small price to pay for an extra hand in war. And war was even closer than his people seemed to expect.

The titan rumbled a hearty and indifferent gurgle as his eyes ran over Isardis. he was offering him a chance to hold a woman until it was time for him to depart. he would seek his own kingdom in due time. Isardis would offer him an ample place to practice his sets though--this much was true. "I do not crave your women, merely the children they give me. Swear me the rights to my children and their names, and I shall serve you until my kingdom comes," he held no value to a woman except the expansion of his unit, and that much was all that would get him by. he knew nothing of this pale king, knew even less of his antics and leadership capabilities, but fact of the matter was, he would be wise to ally with someone offering him something. he did not seek to burn the world without assistance, for such a task was not impossible, though it was difficult even when the power was harnessed by a god of his stature. isardis was a wise man making a wise decision. cepheus, however, would show him none of the thoughts that burned in his skull. they were irrelevant to his case, and the only mantra in the gargantuan's head was the ticking clock of his time coming. the purge.

He would watch with interest as the mans eemed to roll over the offering, and although it would almost pain the man to see one of his beauties writhing with the life of another man, Isardis knew very well that this beast was worth the sacrifice. His pack would be heavily outnumbered in war, although perhaps not by power, it would only soothe the albino more so to have a creature of war fighting at his heels. Even if just temporarily. ?Your terms are accepted, and I will stay honest to your requests as long as you are honest to mine,? he would chuckle again, swaying atop the bleached boulder before bouncing rather elegantly to the earth beneath. ?You may follow me now or find your own way to Glaciem, I?d hope you are capable of as much,? and with that the king would turn, sauntering proudly back to his kingdom, plots brewing silently upon his mind.

with subtle ease the white king would agree to the terms set down by the titan and cepheus had nothing further to say with such things. perhaps he should move home and look at his new surroundings. perhaps, not. he had no true motive to move there yet, and though it was best he find himself some damsel, he was not quick on his legs to do so. the beast lashed his tongue hungrily across his lips and turned his head in the opposite direction of the white man. he shrugged past the female, given her silence, and paid her no mind, for such was the behavior of the lord.