Isardis Armada

Did the sunset queen boast of a relationship with the enemy, or was she wise and selective in her choices? Did she possess the pack-interested desire to flourish as a superior, to remove all who posed a threat to her, or did she settle for solitude, and for blind peace? Entirely unaware he was, however he risked the potential of attack for the sake of a dwindling curiosity. Amenti had been overthrown by the enemy, and Glaciem now stood more alone than it was before. Power was no issue, but numbers lacked in a world where strength consisted of one solitary King. He was careful to remain distanced, a rare respect he would not have offered the striking lady had she not so appealed to him in their single meeting. Willing she had been, to tango with his taunting words. Did she yield to pleasure in the same way now, or would she falter and bend over for the loyalty of Valhalla and it?s companions. He called for her, a suggestive and melodic craving for her company as the superior would rest backwards; haunches pairing with the dampened earth of the mangroves as Isardis awaited her succumb.

This is the grace that only we can bestow.

original code by kia

ooc; timed after the war, a lot is up in the air, but hey- thought it would be fun xD

OOC: Permission from Yumpy to post in here.



There were many cries that shook the mangroves this time of year but the one which the wind carried now pierced the silence with eerie intention. It was clearly a summons for the Sol but the man could not help himself as he stood, the machinery of his agile body sweeping him forth and into the light of a setting sun and into the proximity of the caller. The man held no convictions as the distance closed. Not that a thought could he heard above his thundering heart which drummed with some anxiety of foresight. What was it that called him to investigate business that was not his own and what was it that caused his body to hum in such unwarranted anticipation. Lips would tighten in serious expression. The scars upon his lips tough and snagging across his teeth as they settled into their rightful shape.



A white body would fathom itself before the man. This stranger being quite the antithesis of Deteste's being. The stranger's lack of blemishes, immaculate colorless pelt and rosey-tinted eyes were a stark composition to Deteste's cold, cerulean stare and obsidian pelt which had been beaten and worn by the marks of violence and time. Deteste's heart would flutter as he realized who the stranger was. He would stare thoughtfully as he closed a semi-circle about Isardis, settling onto his haunches with such ease that they could have been familiar to one another. Yet Deteste would be careful to hold his crown level to his spine to define his rankless-ness and upon seating himself would dip his contemplative facade in an ode of respect for the visiting king. Hello Isardis. He would speak, I understand I am not the company you seek. You may call me Deteste.

A being would slither from the folds of weeping vegetation, however far less of a sight than the queen he had expected; fiery amber replaced by no more than a solemn, shapeless ebony as rubies would roam the tattered form of the brawny male. His weight would shift between his quarters, the man boasting of no true greatness within his pack as marred skull would drift between the slopes of his shoulders. He didn?t seem to pose of particular threat, and Isardis? personality would peak as the shadowed creature would drawl free loose greetings. Oh, so he was known? A simmering of pride would begin to rise within his chest; having been no more than a whisper of gloomy rumours upon arrival, Isardis? calling now seemed to scream between the folds of Alacritis and plunge head-first into the waiting minds of lessers. ?Quite the disappointment, actually,? he would bubble weakly, taunting lyrics flowing with a casual seamlessness, ?Ah, but do you hold the answers I seek; or are you no more than a display for sore eyes?? Sarcasm laced his tone, nostrils quivering as lips would tweak to a cunning smirk.

Humor would bubble at the cusp of the man's throat. Never had Deteste been tempted by insult as a grown man and when addressed by the contempt of company his most common response to such treatment was humor. Yet his tongue was held, understanding that laughter was not the response that Isardis likely sought yet the man would allow his amusement to dance across his expression, breaking the monotony of his stoic display but remaining guarded none the less. Mmm. Yes. I would agree I am not quite as beautiful as the Sol. But I would say, my Lord, that I am much more than a sore sight. You may just need to change the lense you see me in. Now what of these inquires? I can not measure my usefulness to you, Isardis, if I do not know the questions.



Deteste was completely unsure what game it was that he intended to play with Isardis. The Glaciem king was disliked by the majority of the continent they lived upon yet he refused to spit upon the face of power and submit to the thoughtlessness of the common. The man was biding his time as his children grew but he knew that when the time came he would ensnare some king or queen and claim a throne of his own. Leadership was natural to him and the taste of diplomacy remained upon his hungered jowls. It would be wise to make powerful connections. Deteste was a level man and could tolerate, even appreciate the company of many individuals. Yet the fate of such connections truly relied upon that other individual. Isardis' initial disposition had not been pleasant yet this had not forced Deteste's curiosity from him.

"Speech"

The man seemed unfazed by his prodding, as eager personality would reach with pointed toes for the weak sentiment beneath ebony skin. It seemed however, that the man, this ?Deteste?, was not one to boast of weak spirits. It was neither here nor there, although as much as he avoided admittance, the trait had grasped his attentions even more so. Amusement tickled the strangers features, and Isardis would struggle to avoid a mirror of pleasure, lips twitching as the games went on. ?Why am I doubtful?? a response directed towards the beasts suggestion of changing views, however his desire to taunt would begin to fizzle as the albino ghoul would come to realise Deteste would not offer him the hurtful response he should seek. ?I have come as A King, to enquire where the loyalty of your sovereign currently lies. I am unaware of my standings with the little sunrise, you see, and it is in a ruler?s best interest to know of such ties,? brittle smirk remained as pale lashed would bat atop blinking gaze, a light sway becoming evident as the angel would seem suddenly blissful within his flavoured words.

She moved with the fluidity of satin, her freshly-groomed fur rippling along the lengths of her fiery pelt. Her fur had dried free of any immediate or major clumps, flowing about her bodice in a thickening coat as her own instincts prepared her for the upcoming winter. It was interesting that such an oddly familiar--and yet queerly strange--call would glide forth to greet her ears after such a bath. Something within the tones of the summons was viscous and smooth, as sweet as honey and soft as sodium, dripping with sweet tones that made it a request that the woman couldn't resist; thus was how greatly her curiosity was piqued.



There was a defined purpose in her movement as she headed towards the location of the cry, mind poring over the identity of its source but never quite hitting the mark. The name, the appearance--they lingered on the tip of her tongue like dewdrops clinging to a blade of grass. Her pace maintained its leisure until she could hear the familiar tones of Deteste speaking, her pace dropping to a slow prowl, paws quiet upon the earth. A luxurious timbre graced her audits and she stiffened considerably as what she had been searching for rushed upon her. Isardis.



Wariness leaped to the forefront of her conscience but she took a deep, quiet breath, eyelids falling over her optics momentarily. However, within a few moments, the edges of her lips curled up in a private smile. Perhaps today would be interesting. Just perhaps.



Features fell neutral but affable as she meandered to Deteste's side, halting at a comfortable distance from her previous Sol, cool eyes of celestial sweeping over the albino's fur before seeking the dulled fire of his own orbs, brow raised with interest. "And business might the moon have with the sun?" she inquired in a relaxed drawl. She was naturally cautious but wished not to show it before the Glaciem king. Already her mind was churning over the situation she was likely about to be put in. Other than to instill the status of what he probably believed was his male superiority over her (such a thought caused her to masterfully suppress a threatening chuckle of bitterness), she saw no other reason for him to seek her except for interpack relations.



Decisions, decisions.

"speech"

Doubt is warranted when no proof has yet been provided, is it not? The man would mirror the king's inquiry with one of his own and building the intrigue between them. A pause would linger between them as Deteste contemplated how he may respond to the king's investigation. It was certainly a complex situation and Deteste would of course not assume Jupiter's position for her. But in a moment his thought would tie together and an insightful statement would leave his lips. The Sol is not a vulnerable woman. She is a contemplative and firm leader, which you will agree is not a common trait among alphas at this time. Her choices are determined by diplomacy and not emotion. Show you are a capable asset. Not a warmonger. His sentence would close with thoughtful advice, yet Deteste did not doubt Isardis had a handle on the interaction to come. The man had only heard tales of the Glaciem King's temper, he was curious to see the method of his interactions with the Sol.



And the cream-crowned woman would arrive just as silence thickened between the men, her russet pelt a brilliant vermilion in the light of the setting autumn sun. The man's gaze would settle slowly upon the woman, his crown falling gracefully in her presence. As the man straightened himself again, the contradiction of the role before him would suddenly grasp him. Jupiter was beautiful and a fleeting worry that the Glaciem king may desire her upon sight would strike him like lightning. His dedication to the Sol was not so emotional but vindictive. Her affect of power and grace had settled itself into his moral judgements. To act against the Sol was sin in the man's skewed perspective. Yet his interest in Isardis would draw him from his worries and he would watch expectantly as the two interacted.


"Speech"

The desire to chuckle weakly at the man?s wisdom would fizzle; craving to down-put the ebony by a brief show of carelessness, bemusement in his wise attempts. However, as much as The Pale King refused to admit it, the marred brute had somewhat of a valid point. It had been on his mind regardless, though he was willing to touch on enemies, perhaps he?d leave out exactly why this hatred for one another had started. And yes, he figured as much for the queen; she had so grasped him upon their initial meeting, painful perhaps, when he came to realise she was a woman with leader status, but during the twelve or more months it had been since seeing her, Isardis had come to appreciate the stronger women of his lineage, dangerously so. She approached, confident in her neutral strides; hovering by the side of the blue-eyed obsidian as the reflections of her brilliance would enlighten the location she sauntered. Isardis shuddered, a fizzing of impression shaking his flesh as rubies would hungrily absorb her magnificence, smirk broad and cunning as tongue would lash involuntarily at cherry lips. ?Matters of the Galaxy,? he chuckled weakly in response, ?Madam Sun, you are no less of an appeal as you were all that time ago.? He rose to stand squarely, taking a challenging step forward before he would sway pleasurably atop curled elbows. ?Straight to business then are we, no time to play?? He mused, ?I seek the knowledge of your loyalty, ember; where does it lie in tender times??

She could feel them--his eyes, such a violent ruby, drowned in a predatory hunger that nearly made the fur on her spine raise--set deeply upon her. A nearly unfamiliar feeling swept over her and she forced herself to maintain her cool countenance. Something about him was different from last time. There was something more... intimidating, now. She felt as if merely his gaze was enough to peel her skin back and gaze into the depths of her mind and soul. She unconsciously shifted her weight in the direction of Deteste almost as if the minute alteration would bring him closer. Otherwise, the unnerved state of her conscience would remain fairly well-hidden.



The woman pursed her lips, having refrained from replying to his first comment as she had already sensed the weight of the second one tipping towards her. Her expression was unreadable as she sought to lock her gaze with his, pondering for only a moment before delivering a careful but firm answer. "My loyalties lie with the best interests of Ludicael," came her curt reply. Her wolves were by no means ready for a war, but terminating her alliance with Valhalla for Glaciem would undoubtedly bring the other pack upon her head, and that was similarly not something she wished. Her brows furrowed deeply as she scrutinized him, attempting to read his reaction the best she could. Already she could feel the risk in this precarious situation, and chanced a glance at Deteste, silently seeking his input on the matter, searching for his wisdom where she lacked.

"speech"

Features would twist beneath a sky of winter promise, smirk easing to that of a near emotionlessness as his mind would brew over her response. However, it would ot take the pale angel long tp react, muscles beoming rigid with a brittle tension, ?Hm, you say as much and yet I feel as though we do not stand on familiar grounds here, Miss Sunrise.? Ears would twitch, elbows shifting as extended tail would flit at the earth beaneath, delicate curls of silver a wonderous oddity against vegetation of bleak, drowned greys. ?Are you yet another leader, who stands where others place you? Have you staked a brittle loyalty to the enemy, because you haven?t the courage to find your own way to a superior safety?? he chuckled weakly, disappointment evident despite the smirk that regrew against his cherry lips. ?A leader leads, and a good leader takes the rough road that delivers him to his haven; you do not achieve respect, safety and the right to thrive, by loitering behind the crowd Jupiter,? he was ashamed to know Ludicael had so effortlessly been captured by the grasp of Valhalla; it?s laziness, it?s desire to sit in wait, and it?s fear for freedom. ?Do you fear individuality, crave to simmer weakly amidst the ties of the other alpha?s, or do you strive to lead your people to an eternal pedestal of wellbeing aside the pack that stood superior against numbers thrice their own?? Glaciem was well out-done by numbers, and yet they held themselves tall and proud as they proved their worth upon the battlefield. The pack was more secure than any other. And wasn?t it all so sad, that they were the only pack of so many to disobey the wide-spread friendship of Valhalla and it?s towered numbers? Pity. A waste it was, and yet still The King sunk down into a weak hope that perhaps he had misunderstood. He had had towering hopes for Jupiter, he had presumed her stronger than the rest, and yet here she stood; exactly the same as Chrysanthe, Syrinx, Gideon, Taurig, and all the other worthless alpha?s he had ever crossed paths with. ?I struggle also to hold neutral relations with a queen that will aid the enemy in my destruction, do you still deny us the unity of day and night?the perfect contrast of the sun and the moon?? it was true that she had not openly suggested so, and that Isardis? reading of another was not of strength, and yet still something had told him to doubt her reliance. Why was it that the world held such a phobia for victory?

She had looked towards Deteste for an answer but as Isardis continued with his interjections, the woman found her gaze fixating itself onto the pale ghost, the corners of her lips turning upwards in a small, secret smirk. Her audits flicked idly as he spoke, only the steady attentiveness of her posture and gaze giving clue that she was indeed still listening. As he concluded his spiel a dark chuckle rose from her chest, smile widening with mischief. His words had fed her a confidence that she needed, that she had craved. The lass cast only a fleeting glance at Deteste before her own lips parted to speak.



"Had I known the moon would make such dastardly assumptions, I would have been more... specific about my intentions," she crooned, voice soft but firm. She paused, lingering on her words for a moment before continuing. Anyone else would have been angry with the icy king--most of his words had been blatant disrespect towards her very existence.



"I am no sheep to be herded, Isardis. You of all wolves, I feel, should know very well that one does not lay an ambush by proclaiming it to the world," came her steady words. She paused to allow another chuckle to briefly quake her form. "One must blend, one must gain trust..." Another pause. "And then, one must strike.



"So, in answer to your bold request, Isardis... I accept."

"speech"

Silence fell upon the man's jowls like a deep snow. He was direct, not a man of flattery and to the frank the metaphors that were exchanged between Jupiter and Isardis bored him. Nonetheless he would study Jupiter carefully and he could see that the woman sought his advice yet Isardis' quick interjections would prevent him from speaking and as the Sol's subject he would not interrupt in a display of unwavering respect. Though his loyalty to the Sol was unquestionable, as a member or not, his display of submission would cause his heart to burn with the desire to be more. He had known upon Amenti's claiming that he would not be able to settle back into Ludicael, much less as an Orbita. So as the conversation died down the man would make his own stake and his own deal with the devil.




You should know that Ludicael is not a pack of fighters. Jupiter has been the sole preserver of these lands as you can see by her freshest scars. But you should know that I am not a servant by nature and that within the next moon I intent to take a land for myself. I offer you a powerful alliance to be, Isardis. I am a man who lives only by his word. As long as an alliance of respectful nature is kept between yourself and the Sol you can expect unwavering loyalty on my part. Now, what is your word upon this offer? the man would speak like a diplomat ought. There was no decoration to his speech but the determination and strength of his timbre.




"Speech"

The woman seemed somewhat amused by his temptations, his voice rolling with the harsh reality of the weakness Alacritis so openly boasted of. Even within his stern thoughts he couldn?t help but be swayed by her captivating presence, her allure so enticing to the testosterone that raged his stream. But if she was not powerful at mind, he held no desires to place his loyalty within her abilities. Her voice would come after a few moments of silence, a glimmer of hope igniting beneath his ribs as his stance seemed to square more and ears perked. A half-smirk would twitch with cunning intent, a prayer to the gods of hell, craving for the woman to build a wisdom he had presumed she lacked. But he would be surprised, her words were one to ponder, holding a sly suggestion of cunning intelligence, and wicked plans for greatness seemed to singe behind her amethyst gaze. ?I have always believed it is the earth that revolves around The Sun, my ember,? he would sway with bliss at her acceptance, a false bond growing within his chest as he would persuade himself into a dedication of union, ?Perhaps in the same way it does The Moon.? He would dare to move closer, although confident and proud, his skull was held level with his spine as he slunk; despite his belief of a standing dominance, he would learn to respect her more so. He stood less than a meter from her now, in the hope she would not deny his proximities, weight shifting as pink nose would stretch towards the brilliance of her aura; falling barely short of contact as a flurry of his breath would speak for him, an acceptance and an approval of her decision. The mysterious Ebony would threaten to pull his attentions, however Isardis? gaze remained fixed upon the undying sunset that blossomed in his wake. Perhaps showing little interest in Deteste until his lyrics were finally to be recognised as somewhat of an importance, hesitant rubies shifting to rest upon him. Lathered in the scars of his past, he was no strapping beast, perhaps lacking the elegance and poise Isardis so prized himself within; and yet there was an air of strength about the man as he stood in the wake of his empress, submissive and yet seeming as if he held back some form of brittle ability to overpower. A dark horse wandering amidst an ocean of lessers, his power silent and waiting. The pale King swayed, tail batting at his hocks in mild interest as flawless features would cock with curiosity, ?I have my doubts about you, Deteste, and yet something tells me I would be foolish to decline,? of course it was only natural to doubt a man he did not know, but he was willing to give way to change. ?Glaciem is as strong in power as it is in numbers, Ludicael?s safety will be well preserved against both the genetic, and trained abilities of my family and their people- provided their loyalty is as unwavering as our relentless vigour,? coral towers flickered, ?You have an agreement, however it is not set in stone until I see your progress, ebony; I do not offer my Kingdom?s support to just any man, merely with the scars to show his nameless history.?

The man would rise from his seat and mimic Isardis' at an equal stride and cadence as he approached. His body interjecting between the pair and the edge of his kinky pelt intertwining with that of the Sol's, each of their breaths intertwining in the winter air and his the hottest among them. The man believed it would do good to set a certain understanding unto Isardis regarding his alliance with the Sol. She was an ally. And perhaps in time a friend. But Jupiter and Ludicael were never to be a possession and as he stepped forward to muddy the intimacy Isardis sought, the gesture would likely be the first among many to set this understanding in stone.



Deteste would watch Isardis, mirroring his expression of curiosity as his words settled into the cold air between them. Yes my Lord, and I have doubts of my own. Nonetheless my conquest is personal. It shall be achieved. I acquire knowledge that may make my intentions more appealing to you. Perhaps we will discuss this at a later date. For now I celebrate such a promising alliance between such promising characters. A smile would tauten his lips as he turned to face the Sol.

Isardis' words would weave themselves around her ears, entwining and ensnaring her conscience, causing a smile to spread across her dark lips. Thrill coursed through her beating heart, quickening its pace with general excitement. Yes. This was something new. This--this alliance, this presence, this witty banter--was something she could get used to. Only by her habitually resistant and professional mannerisms did she resist the temptation to bring herself nearer as his figure loomed forth and though it was not outwardly apparent, she was relieved when Deteste swept forth. The lady took a moment to breathe inconspicuously and calm herself, withdrawing momentarily with her indulgence in the unfamiliar. She would not deny him--perhaps at other times, she would humor him wholly. The woman shifted her weight, a deeply amused chuckle rumbling from the depths of her chest, bubbling forth from her larynx and rolling from her maw. The ebony brute proclaimed their partial but considerate lack of fighting skill within the pack and she offered, as he spoke, an almost piteous frown. She made a mental note to remedy this in the near future and swept her now-calculating gaze over to Deteste as he continued. The two traded conversation and she waited patiently, biding her time and milling about her thoughts. Her mind was occupied mostly on the news of the male's plans to claim a pack as she idled. To have Deteste missing from the grounds of Ludicael once more was a little sobering to the lass but the woman was no stranger to having those that were close to her leading another pack. After a few moments, her friend faced her and she returned his smile before rising to her paws, stance relaxed but professional as always. "Ludicael may not be a pack of fighters but that does not mean we do not have them among us. Their lack of experience is something that can be remedied. I have preserved our own safety this far and will continue to do so as long as I can manage." Her words were careful but firm as she decided that Deteste could not be the only individual engraving certain boundaries in stone. The woman's relaxed nature had led to an equally nonchalant pack but she did not wish to be underestimated or thought little of for it. Her more recent wounds, beginning to scar, tingled with the reminder of battle, forcing her to suppress a shiver of delight. "When the time comes to train them, however, an ounce of help may be needed." She paused to glance back at Deteste, having before turned her gaze first to the albino knight as she'd begun her dialogue. "Does it sit well with you should we request the aid of a battle-seasoned warrior or two to aid in such training? We have quite a few members and for efficiency's sake, having a few more paws to help for a day or so may benefit both of our packs in the long run." Celestial gaze sought his ruby orbs, gauging his reactions carefully. Yes, she thought bemusedly, this will be an interesting alliance indeed.