Tria 19 81379 Mild Cursing Miqi’s liver-colored nose flared wide as he breathed in the wind. Those icy fingers of air raked through the bipedal ‘dragon’s fur, sending waves of blue iridescence down the otherwise white, thick pelt. His waist-length black ponytail whipped and snapped behind him, matte tentacles tangling into knots starkly rendered against the wan expanse of the Vjysti Plains. The flecks of green in his otherwise bleached irises stood out all the more, framed as they were by dark hair and by a seemingly endless array of snow dunes below a steel-grey sky. The sun had risen far enough so that the pastel colors of dawn had faded, but the first of the tourists had yet to arrive, nor would they till much later in the morning... At least, so had personal experience taught Miqi Veonesh. He usually made any excuse that he could to visit the Plains, as it was one of the only places his coat of warm-toned fur was an asset and not a nuisance. His second nuisance, a set of damaged and near useless claws, tightened around the stiffening body of a black Qereniath as an even stiffer gust threatened to send the light body tumbling out of his hands. With a low growl of discontent, he knelt on the wind-scoured ground and set the ferret-sized body to one side so he could begin to dig through the packed snow. “<span style='color:Teal'>This is stupid, Ibontiel,</span>" he muttered, voice cool, syllables strung together with the casual inflection of a Swaraj youth with all the time in the world. “<span style='color:MAROON'>My, es etm’s, iyo lessla fhalg,</span>" the pale ‘dragon spat back, stilted words cinched together by a ragged but firm string of consciousness. “<span style='color:MAROON'>Fa huba raam haja ravyja—qots rakuota iyo faja ryjm em Watani pyatm’s naum shus iyoj hajesuda et mys haja.</span>" “<span style='color:Teal'>Oh, my heritage is it?</span>" spat the Miqi voice, still digging through the old snow. “<span style='color:Teal'>I thought nothing about this body was mine anymore.</span>" “<span style='color:MAROON'>Shet et ros u thupyf yv fhus Ibontiel fut! Iyoj punm rypi et mys og sy thugathevsemd yv shus nudmesopa.</span>" “<span style='color:Teal'>But you can use that Biokinetic shit.</span>" “<span style='color:MAROON'>Shus et pevvajams.</span>" “<span style='color:Teal'>No it isn’t.</span>" “<span style='color:MAROON'>Iat, es et</span>!" “<span style='color:Teal'>How can it be different? They both use Fronima.</span>" “<span style='color:MAROON'>Dyptpunmes, shet et hujp amyodh feshyos rekcajemd sy um upylatkams dhyts... Iyo pym’s abam huba ull yv iyoj tyol!</span>" “<span style='color:Teal'>Through no fault of my own. If you hadn’t been such an incompetent dick, we might not be in this mess.</span>" “<span style='color:MAROON'>Oh, thyba es.</span>" “<span style='color:Teal'>I’d like to see you try.</span>" Both were silent, choosing instead to focus on digging through the thick ice as an ever-growing pile of glistening ice chips grew next to the body of the dark Qereniath. The Miqi voice had retreated back to his usual place deep in Ibontiel’s mind, leaving both to curse the fates that had brought them together into one hijacked body.
He woke up in a daze of colors, his dashing black pelt sticking out in the golden yellows and greens that ran along the hill side. He took in air quickly, <span style='color:red'>"T-the desert, wheres the desert? This isn't the desert? This isn't the desert!" "B-but how? Howd I get here?"</span> He tried to stand up and he stumbled his rump hit the ground. His mouth felt dry and his bones felt hollow. He tried to summon water: silver sparks apered and vanished... nothing. <span style='color:red'>"My magic" </span>He moned in a dull voice. Then something clicked his eyes lit up for a moment, <span style='color:red'>"The dream weaving..." "I couldn't fall asleep it must 'ave..."</span> His silver claws dug into the ground for track-tion as he tried to rise. <span style='color:red'>"I don't understand, but then again my magic never seems to make sense." </span>He rolled his eyes seeming exasperated. Cero softly champed his jaws together as if to bite at food that wasn't their, <span style='color:red'>"Food, would be nice." </span>So he set off in search of food, crossing the plain in a slow stagger...
The young fae padded along silently, only stopping to see another Pendragon talking to one who was not there. So, she was not the only one with this problem. Her orbs watched as the bickering went on, not quite understanding the Ramathian. <span style='color:gray'>"What is all the ruckus about?!"</span> came an eery, unwanted voice. <span style='color:purple'>"Oh shutup, Krayta. Go and climb into the mouth of a rapine!"</span> Knowing her presence was no longer concealed, Kotora awaited to see if this Pendragon was hostile or not.
Ibontiel’s ears flicked back... What was that? Was that another pendragon?! No one was usually here until much later in the day! <span style='color:Teal'>Teach you to assume anything, eh Miq?</span> Ibontiel did, however, shovel one last bit of snow... Just one las— <span style='color:MAROON'> “Dypthes,"</span> he snarled under his breath, jerking his right hand out of the hole. One claw, one of his better ones, no less, swayed limply in the wind. Ruined. With lips pulled back from black gums in pain, Ibontiel wrested the claw out and squeezed the end of that finger tightly, well aware that blood would get all over his precious white coat if he didn’t. <span style='color:teal'>Well, someone certainly has his priorities straight.</span> Emerald eyes swept over the wide plains, and Ibontiel realized that it wasn’t just one pendragon nearby, but two. With a grunt of displeasure, the lean ‘dragon kicked the Qereniath corpse into the hole and nudged some snow in after, just enough to cover its black fur completely. <span style='color:maroon'>“Fhy et yos sha—ugh, no... Who is out there?"</span> he called, still clutching the sluggishly bleeding finger.
Cero's magic popped feeling other life forces near him. <span style='color:red'>"How strange their not Anubi, i don't belive I've ever meet pendargons that weren't Anubi."</span> He felt a terrible itch behind his ear, he twiched it hearing the pendragons talking to themselfs. Not knowning that something like that was out of the ordinary he decided to make his way over to them. He hadn't talked to other being in such a long time a bit of conversation would do him good. Or so he thought.
The young femme, now knowing her presence was detected, casually trotted out from the brush. She would be ready if any attack was to be made, but did not wish to start a fight........yet. The scales upon her chest glittered as the speckles of sunlight coming through the trees hit them. Kotora stopped before the one who had called upon her, sitting upon her haunches. Her deep, beautiful violet eyes stared right at the other prendragon as she gave a response. <span style='color:purple'>My name is Kotora, Kotora Beylas. I was....er....not eavesdropping if that's what you were wondering.</span> The mane of spiked hair that ran down her backside fluttered as a light breeze went past.
Miqi’s face drew into an unpleasant scowl. Whenever someone needed to point out that they had not been listening, they often had been. Bad liars, in particular, irritated him. Why even bother trying to put one over on a pendragon of his caliber, knowing full well you couldn’t? It was foolish and a waste of time, two things that the ancient pendragon hated above all else. “<span style='color:maroon'>I’m sure you weren’t,</span>" muttered the white pendragon. He paused before continuing to sweep a tangle of dull black hair from his eyes, allowing his claw to continue bleeding freely for a moment, but soon clamped down on the wound once again. “<span style='color:maroon'>But, ah... Is there anything I can help you with?</span>"
Kotora thought for a moment, shaking her cranium. <span style='color:purple'>No, not really.</span> The color of her oculars turned a light shade of gray for a moment. <span style='color:gray'>Why do you lie to everyone whom you meet? You give the same response everytime!</span> said a cold, scratchy voice. Kotora began to bark violently, jumping all around. <span style='color:purple'>This is none of your business, why can't you leave me alone for once?</span> <span style='color:gray'>Hey now, this is MY body too!</span> Kotora bit herself on her left front leg, causing it to gush out blood. <span style='color:purple'>Oh, now look what you've done you...you....scruffy, neurotic bitch!</span> Realizing the presence of the other pendragon, she stopped talking, getting ready to run off.
Malak looked at the purple pendragon. It seemed to be carrying on a conversation with itself. <span style='color:green'>psycho</span> she thought. Then out of the corner of her pupil-less eyes she caught a glimpse of a white pendragon that seemed to be clutching one of its claws because it was...<span style='color:red'>"eww, he's bleedin' all over tha place!"</span> she said. then she clamped her hands over her mouth. <span style='color:green'>Dammit! why is it that I always blow my cover at the sight of blood?</span> she thought and then she answered herself <span style='color:green'>because you're an idiot</span>
Cero walked over to the odd group that was starting to form. He decided that is was best to act like he knew where he was and not act confused by the seenery (sp) as that could be used against him. He grinned in a wolfish way and offered a greeting. <span style='color:red'>"Lo, I haven't seen new face in a long time." </span>He nodded his head in a friendly manner, but dispite his over all pleasent-ness he still had the smell of death on him and he seemed erie...
Malak got up from her crouching position and decided now would be the best time to intorduce herself. <span style='color:red'>"Righty then, I'm Malak and I have no idea who you beings are so if you would be so kind as to introduce yourselves that would be nice."</span> She said with a feigned cherriness to her voice. <span style='color:green'>Brilliant Mal, give your true identity...What kind of Con Artist are you?</span> <span style='color:green'>A stupid one</span> She was at it again, arguing with herself.
Cero gave a fang bareing smile and shook her paw. <span style='color:red'>"It's nice too met you, my names"</span> He paused for a moment translating <span style='color:red'>"Kajy." "Are these other two friends of yours?" </span>He asked enthused. He took her cheerfulness as a good sign Cero's stomach gave a long low, growl. He moned slightly sounding pitiful. <span style='color:red'>"Has anyone got anything to eat?" </span>He dug in his pocket pulling out gold and silver coins. <span style='color:red'>"I'd be willing to pay for it"..."though I'm not really sure how much these coins are worth..."</span>
<span style='color:red'>"uh..." </span>said malak as she looked from the white pendragon clutching his bleeding finger to the purple pendragon, sitting on her haunches and carrying on a conversation with herself. <span style='color:red'>"no, I've actually never met them and I'm only here because I wanna get away from the evil teachers and preppy students, they disgust me." </span> she continued with the same false cheer.
Miqi stared blankly from the strange Anubi to the dreadfully chipper Feydragon, the many hoops in his ear clinking as he swept them back in irritation. His stub of a tail was furiously emitting black and red smoke, dark against the vast snow-covered plains of Vjysti. Experimentally he released his old on the torn claw and was gratified to see that the bleeding has slowed to a dull ooze; his coat would suffer no more damage. These... These... chatty interlopers, however, were a different story. "<span style='color:maroon'>What in the name of the Starving King is going on here?!</span>" the youthful 'dragon bellowed, smoke curling menacingly around him. “<span style='color:maroon'>You’re trying to bite off your own damn leg, that one popped out of nowhere like a rapine-infested spring, and all that brat wants to do is whine about how horrible her bloody, pathetic, useless life is! All I want to do is bury the damned aborted project in peace and bloody quiet, but no! Suddenly I’m surrounded by a damned Kytlekh-loving three-ring circus! Fhus E fyolpm's deba vyj u rlyypi jevla... Abam u tfyjp fyolp py. Vokcem' rjust, gojela lessla thest pym's cmyf hyf sy sjaus shaej alpajt... E hyga sha Rapine aus ull yv iyo!</span>" (Computer acess has been limited by my parents, so please, try to wait for me? I'll love you forever!)
<span style='color:red'>"FIne way to say hi,"</span> Malak Said losing all cheer. then she added; <span style='color:red'>"rutsujp, of a pendragon."</span> continuing she said; <span style='color:red'>"Why don't you talk so every one could understand you? All I caught was bloody rifle...sword...fuckin' brats...and shits"</span> The only parts of the ramathian language that Malak had cared to learn were the weapons, curses, and insults.
Kotora snorted, taken aback by the insults. <span style='color:purple'>If you wanted me to leave, you could have just asked. But it was......nice metting you...um......</span> Her voice trailed off as she got up, threw her head up and walked away.
Malak Changed her label of the purple pendragon. <span style='color:green'>Emotional Psycho</span> she thought
Disgusted, Miqi kicks a few more scoops of snow over the dead mammal and escapes as quickly as possible. (Sorry, deathly afraid of one-liners. And I really have no idea where I was going with this thread, other than crazy schizo madness. *drags Miq away*)
Malak looked at the white pendragon that she had insulted. He was walking away. then she looked back at the purple pendragon that was leaving behind a trail of blood. She gagged and followed the purple pendragon. <span style='color:red'>"Hey wait!"</span> she called. <span style='color:red'>"sorry I insulted you, it just not every day that you see a pendragon bite their own leg."</span> Apologized Malak her Con Artist self setting in.
