Misty Mountain is opposite of Rainbow Cliff. Mists hover year-round at this high altitude, mistaken by some to be thin clouds. Thin layers of snow cover the mountain, making some areas slippery and hazardous.
Some think it romantic, a place to bring their mates, while others come to play and romp. However, all must agree that there is some level of mystery and spookiness hovering about with the mists...
IP: 162.156.111.243
Posted on July 3, 2014 at 01:32:38 AM by PYREO
 |
Pyreo was not made of ice. His very solid, very real, yet unearthly essence was composed of ash, of bones - of what didn’t feel, what didn’t bleed. A crackling tension rippled through their small universe at Py’s venomous words. They had sent the ivory Czar into some agony known only to himself. Pyreo stared on, his dark gaze an inferno of emptiness; no heartstrings twanged within the canid at the snow king’s reaction, but neither did any trace of glee grace his handsomely carved features. And Snow Rabbit, to be PERFECTLY HONEST… The pallid carnivore raised his tail, just about out of patience - a virtue he had missed out on. Pulling a reaction out of you was far too easy. To somebody else, Kershov’s billowing anger might have been impressive, to Py it signalled fragility - here was a weakness he could pick and pry until his simmering fiend came apart… dissolved… at the very seams. A broken chain link. It was a smell of blood detected by a shark, just a drop at first, then an out pouring as a wound of silvery nerves and whispering doubts had been peeled open. And the stain of red didn’t spatter, but BRED itself onto that ghostly white reputation. The King appeared to be insatiably hungry, or rather, there was an insatiable demon growing within, nurturing itself off of the evil that leaked through the cracks and splinters in Kershov’s very bones. Pyreo begged him on, he could feel each of the targets the icy dog was contemplating as if he were marking them by laser. Just as the failing alpha teetered on the edge, Py felt the ridge under his paws and ceaselessly shifted his balance over and back, just enough so that any move from the King would be met by a merciless response. But while Py swallowed Kershov’s intents with an unparalleled blade of focus, he was also a very effective multi-tasker - and another issue was trying its luck within the iron confines of the mountainous carnivore’s mind. Mate? The raging white wolf’s words caught Pyreo somewhere between the top of his throat and the crevice of his shoulder bones, sending a spluttering snarl from his iron lips. Having spent a good few - rather violent - moments in the Scarlet Queen’s presence, the fact that Kershov was smitten was rather… fascinating. Perhaps the queen was more useful than he might have at first estimated from her bland performance in the field. For the first time in the duration of their tense meeting, a gruesome snarl with mockery laced between Py’s sharp white daggers smacked itself onto his face. As the white lupine’s words rose into full out screaming, the ash laden dragon growled in his own warning. HE was reaching the end of his patience line and THIS was just about enough. It was coming - every fibrous synaptic nerve snapped all at once. Py didn’t really hear the white brute’s roar. In the pallid dragon’s mind there was only silence. A deadly black gaping hole, a void. Kershov flew at him with pure force, not aiming strategically. The impact sent shards of ice cold pain through Pyreo’s recently dislocated shoulder. He faced the king’s onslaught with his own python-like jaws ready - easily parrying of the later’s by thrusting his skull against the demon’s neck, preventing him from reaching any viable target. There was no rage or blinding ferocity in Py’s expert deflection - he had come to the conclusion he needed, though he would have preferred it to be different. Now there was nothing but his favourite mask of stone and ash. Standing strong and immovable in the face of the dissipating legend, Pyreo let his impatience slip through rows of white tools. Then why haven’t you already done so dog, the massive shark spat. It would have been better than this. Py’s features were animated… flushed with exasperation to a frightening degree - the expertly way he manipulated his expressions was off setting to most. He was his own form of insanity, though one that he had embraced with an open heart and learned to master to the point of vindictiveness. It didn’t matter who was stronger, only who could last longer. Py knew, and he had an inkling that his counterpart knew also, they could spar and burn each other to nothing but dust before anything productive would come out of it. OOC - sorry for the crap post, wanted to get something up before I don’t have time and the words just didn’t come.. :’( |
Replies:
- THE MAD KING - By KERSHOV July 7, 2014 at 03:50:20 PM
INFERNO- By PYREO July 8, 2014 at 11:41:00 PM
THE MAD KING - By KERSHOV July 15, 2014 at 03:47:52 PM
INFERNO- By PYREO August 3, 2014 at 04:11:59 AM
Post a reply:
<--
-->