DEATH IS THE MESSAGE, NOT THE BEGINNING // returning ardent

[VALE]

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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ bonehead hyena

With a rose in vis beak, Vale lands upon a low-hanging branch in the Central Plaza. After several weeks (months? what is time to an immortal?) missing, perhaps a more flashy introduction was in order, but Vale didn’t quite feel like it. The psychotic breaks in the desert because of vis probably-dead ex-boyfriend and probably-dead best friend had finally run their course, but, naturally, Vale neglected to consider ve’d been replaced.

“ATTENTION, OH MY WEIRDOS, YOUR THREE-EYED ARDENT HAS RETURNED!” The rose drops from vis beak.

Ve jumps off the branch and shapeshifted into a bonefaced hyena, snapping the rose out of the air with vis teeth as vis paws land upon the jungle. The smells have changed (more birds?) since ve’d been gone. And there is… more food? The animals walking around look healthier than when Vale left, which implies they finally learned how to care for their frail mortal bodies.

That being said, why does anyone think Vale would give a shit about their “I’m so hungry!” and “I think my wound’s infected?” problems when ve’s a rotting immortal? Vale has been cursed longer than the longest-lived species upon this planet! If mortals need food, they shouldn’t expect Vale to understand or care. Especially if they’re a species that eats multiple times a day. Vale has more important things to worry about, like not accidentally possessing a Pittian’s body because it smells fresh.

“My, my, isn’t this an improvement! Some of y’all have learned to bathe and feed yourselves, must be a miracle worker around here.” Vale’s teeth snap around the rose, devouring it messily. The red petals stuck between vis teeth look, somehow, worse than blood.

“Glad to see my vacation in the desert had the intended affect! See? I was right! No need to bother me for trivial matters such as food and water anymore.” Cackling gleefully, Vale throws back vis head and soaks up the harsh midday sun. See? This is why Vale never bothered to worry while rampaging in the desert; nothing can go wrong if you don’t bother to plan anything good.

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[Olalla]

I'VE NEVER FEARED THE DRUMS OF WAR

OLALLA — MALE — PITTIAN — ARDENT — PLOT

It had been about 4 months since Olalla had been deemed Ardent of The Pitt by no one but himself, however he was beginning to question his Pittians saltiness due to recent orders that had actually been carried out, small though they be.

Olalla's ears perked as an odd croaky bellow broke the air, and it didn't come from his mouth. What the hell was that? The hybrid stood up from the crumbled temple steps and padded into the central plaza, and from there was horrified by the disgustingly twisted Hyena with ... petals in its mouth? What the hell IS that? Olalla's brows furrowed harshly, his eyes thinning into slits as he glared at the animal before him, towering over it in not only height but ego as well. This thing was making him look a fool, and Olalla did not tolerate jesters among his court.

"And who do you think you are," the beast snarled upon black lips, his dark saber like teeth slipping past his tongue as he spoke. Olalla raised a white brow, expecting a valid answer, though with Vale, that was out of the question. "The only reason my Pittians look any better from what you left me with is because of my hard work paying off. Food, water, shelter. The essentials! Olalla was more than pissed, his brow beginning to twitch upon his dark face. " You have no right to announce this meeting," he snapped, pinning his ears back. " Considering you left them for dead with no successor but an old, tired dragon." Though no disrespect was meant for Renlys, if he cared to listen.

Olalla glanced at the now gathering pittians, his tail lashing behind him. Shit, this wasn't good. Not at all. He had a habit of picking on people twice his size, in Rens case 15 times, and in Vales case of familiarity, a billion times his size.

#psychosocial.

[VALE]

[align=center]

graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ bonehead hyena

“Ah, you must be that miracle worker.” Vale’s grey tongue worries out a petal, and ve spat it between vis paws. “You’re hired!”

The hyena’s three red eyes focus in on Olalla. Unsettling, given how the fleshness nature of vis boneface means ve never broke the eye contact for a blink. Ve considers regrowing some skin to wink, but, eh, why go through the itchy process for a fucking wink?

“Oh, so you do know who I am! If you go around asking people who they are, but then immediately follow up with an accusation that proves you know who they actually are, people will think you’re a moron. So? Who am I? A nameless idiot straight out of the desert or Ardent Vale of the Pitt? I think you just admitted to the latter.” Vale rolls vis eyes and vis whole head. “But! I like your work, if not your attitude! So the hiring offer stands; I’ve been looking for an imperator, and it’s so hard to spot a good one, even with three eyes, you know?”

Vale sighs dramatically, and attempts to drape a decaying paw over the smaller creature. If successful, ve will use that paw to bring Olalla’s hear closer to Vale’s muzzle. Unfortunately, Vale's rotting body leaves a trail of black goo on any flesh ve may or may not touch.

“Listen here, mkay? ‘Cause I won’t have you ruining a great opportunity for both of us. You are obviously good at the logistics, which I, admittedly, suck at.” Vale licks vis exposed teeth with a loud smack. “But I heard from a little birdy in the desert that’s about all you’re good at. Whatcha gonna do if I decide I want to kill you for usurping my throne?”

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[AEGON]

ONCE YOU COMMITTED ME

Times had come to a slow into The Pitt recent. Aegon was entertained by Olalla and Renlys's spar for leadership, but since then, the usual antics continued and that bored the horseman of death. He did not come to the mortal realm for mindless tasks and a daily routine, but for the thrill of inconsistency and the entertainment provided by the lesser beings that paraded before him. Thankfully, the animals usually succeeded. Lately though? Tsk. No. Not at all. With the consideration of heading back downstairs lingering on his mind, the lion dearly wished for something to happen.

And it did.

Jaws parted in a yawn as Aegon meandered through the territory. Disinterested eyes traced the horizon as he walked the jungle's edge, awaiting his next venture. The border, which is what usually provided satisfaction, was rather barren today. Displeased with the situation, sunken in facial features turned towards the north eastern part of the territory and began to walk.

Paws graced the central plaza's edge shortly after. As soon as he stepped foot into the plaza, a screech bellowed from above. The familiar, high-pitched tone was followed shortly by a slam into the jungle floor and maned features swiveled to stare down the dark figure. Ve was a prominent figure during Aegon's arrival and what peaked his interest in The Pitt initially, so to hear their gracious voice (although nowhere near the voice of an angel) was gratifying. Even a subtle smirk rose on the lion's maw, something that was a rarity. Things were truly getting interesting.

He made no move. With most situations, he merely watched. Every gloat and false plan was a travesty. yet somehow a pleasurable experience, to listen to. In his silence, another voice ripped on through. His stance shifted to gain a view a both of them as Olalla began to vilely defend The Pitt's improvements. Aegon was impressed by their valiant effort. It appeared they were keeping their word on The Pitt's prosperity.

Even so, their blunt effort to disown Vale's changes to The Pitt was quickly met with rebuttal... Mixed with acceptance? An offer? Then a threat? Aegon's browline furrowed in confusion, but his eyes watched in anticipation. His hindlegs lowered to the floor and bottom slide down onto the ground nearby. A tail swayed as he listened, awaiting Olalla's response. He wanted to push but held his tongue.

His daunting, slitted eyes focused in on Vale as their final proclamation came to be. The logistics ran through his head. If either killed one another, that was one soul heading down to the underworld. Orbs bounced between the two in interest when a thought emerged. What about both? Not dead, but alive. Keeping both of them alive would create a situation that would give him the upperhand. Souls, entertainment, and a bit of fun for himself. Like Vale pointed out, they were destined to be intertwined and fit together well. Perhaps... but Olalla would need to agree.

Hence Aegon took the liberty of swaying the situation. "Your offer is intriguing," he mused, breaking his usual silence, "but Olalla has rights to their leadership after your disappearance." Logistics, as ve mentioned, were no their thing. This sudden discharge of information was very informal. "Perhaps the playing field should leveled, rather than both of you wagering your descent." A negotiation rather than a proclamation.

NOW YOU'VE ACQUITTED ME

[Kold]

WHEN I LOOK IN THE MIRROR,
KNOW WHAT I SEE?
THE ANIMAL IN ME!

"Jesus, Vale. What the fuck did you do this time?" Her harsh voice cut through the air as she walked past pittians who had gathered around, as she saw it, the clown couple. She hated Olalla. But Vale she tolerated to an extent. But as she approached the duo she could feel her anger spike at the words spoken. Ardent? Ardent? "Whoever let you lead years ago was fucking senile, Vale, I'm going to be honest." She glanced to Aegon, but quickly redirected her attention to the two.

And yet, after two years, it wasn't like she could say anything now. She was dead for that time. But she saw the looks on the Pittians' faces as she wandered the plaza. They had been struggling for a while, it seemed. And as much as she hated Olalla, he was doing a good job in getting them back into power. It was more than what she could say for Vale's leadership, even though she only knew vey lead for a while before leaving, as per words of a few upset pittians she talked to.

Her eyelid twitched as Vale offered the current Ardent something, as well as threatened him, and she let a quiet growl leave her jaws. "I suppose it's all up to our pretty little thing of an Ardent to decide." If they both worked together, who knew what The Pitt could achieve. Hell! Maybe she'd actually step past Marauder rank, unlike how it was when Gael ran the place.

— Reggan

[JORMUNGAND Di ANGELO]

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — bio — pinterest board

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OC TEXT


IC TEXT | IC opinions only

someone he knew was back? how interesting. the male lumbered over slowly, a small smile spreading across his maw as he watched the former ardent go head-to-head against the current one. he had no problems with vale, wasn't sure why everyone hated vem. he went on a date with vem and he really enjoyed it, even if it was to recruit her. however, he stayed silent. this wasn't really his place to speak though he wanted to welcome vis back. if vey happened to catch his eye he'd offer a small smile.

#psychosocial.

[Olalla]

I'VE NEVER FEARED THE DRUMS OF WAR

OLALLA — MALE — PITTIAN — ARDENT — PLOT

It was, perhaps, the most obnoxious of creatures that somehow came into power. Bold, and didn't know the meaning of fucking personal space. It was hard for Olalla not to snap at the rotting corpse of an avian, ending that fucking thing right where it stood, or at least one of its lives, if anything. If that's how it worked. Whatever.

"Rhetorical questions exist," he grumbled in a snarkish way. "Really wouldn't expect you to understand that, what with your... rotting corpse of an appearance. Though you do you, babes." What the beast wouldn't give to at least knock them unconscious for some peace and quiet. 5 minutes without ver stench would be heaven on earth.

A sluggish, rotting paw drapes across the rhino sized beast and slick, black goo seeps down the side of his shoulder. Disgusting, literally disgusting. Olalla couldn't help to hide his repulsion of not only the goo, but the goo that it belonged to. Words whispered blankly in his ear, lathered in sass like a steak with A1 sauce in a country club style bar. Olalla thought the words over thoroughly before a threat was made, making his jaw clench tightly. How fucking dare vey, how fucking dare vey come into his pitt and insult him. The Ardent. "All im good for," Olalla repeated with a brisk jerk of his head, "My thriving Pittians say otherwise," he corrected as he sneered his lip. Childish, but necessary. Ish.

If the beast accepted the offer of a dual ownership of the pitt, The Pitt would benefit greatly with two Ardents. Well.. Vale was more than incompetent of maintaining the ardent role, so maybe a general. Possibly an Army General, considering how fuckin chaotic vey were. But... If he accepted would his pittians think he was incompetent himself? So much so he needed someone else? Would they see this as weakness? As a weak link? An opportunity? A message of inept failure? Olalla flicked his ear, silencing the thoughts that hounded and haunted him.

Now the threat. The threat was what made it sketchy, Vale was a wild card, and maybe that was what the pitt needed. Or maybe they needed a steady and a body that stayed put and didn't fucking leave. "Kill me and your not only digging my grave" he growled lowly, barely a whisper. "But the hundreds of lives that live here, survive here, thrive here. And any chance of the thrown. Any chance of a kingdom. What's a king with no army. Kill me and you might as well give The Pitt to The Typhoon as a parting gift of submission."

Olalla knew what thin ice he walked on but fuck the ice. If he was to plunder into the frigid waters, then so be it. No one threatens his life and the lives of his pittians like he was a fucking dog and doesn't get a little slap of reality knocked into them.

#psychosocial.

[VALE]

[align=center]

graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ bonehead hyena

“Hey, don’t diss my boy Dante like that.” Vale’s neck cracked as ve turned to look at Kold, but vis voice lacked bite. After leaving like ve had, Vale agreed. Who the fuck left a nutcase in charge? Sure, ve’s good at blowing shit up (including a pyramid in the Pitt’s own territory), yet vis talent for violence is the only stand out component of vis resume.

However. Vale has never given up. Otherwise, the curse blackening vis blood wouldn’t be torture.

Vale attempted to lean against Olalla, using the behemoth’s bulk as resistance to pop vis shoulder and neck back into alignment. “Ahhh, see, this is exactly how we’ll work together. I really don’t want to explain the metaphor, but I’m sure Aegon, Kold, and Jor can figure it out. Just waiting on you.” With a sticky grey tongue, vale licked vis third eyeball. A grisly, unintentional wink.

“Your thriving Pittians say they’re agreeing with me.” Vale rolled vis red eyes. “Really opened yourself up to that one. No easy answer like rhetorical question, dummy to salvage that self-roast.”

“The Coalition, you mean,” Vale corrected. “The main warmongers left the Typhoon—they may hate our guts, but the wound isn’t fresh. Captain Morrison’s a dark horse, but nobody wins a battle by their lonesome. But the Coalition’s run by Stryker and Ninazu’s son. Coalition’s in a better position.”

“Wait, who said anything about digging graves?” Vale sounded puzzled–genuinely so, because death threats are as casual as flinging a gore-slicked arm over someone’s shoulder. “Actually, yeah, probably me. No offense, but you’re too much of a wuss to bring it up. You seriously responding to a death threat by saying your own death would inconvenience me?”

The rotting hyena cackled. Then ve removed the paw slung over Olalla’s shoulder and tapped vis forehead. “Here I thought I was the bonehead!”

“So I’ll spell it out for me. You’re a logistician, and you’re running a society built on literal slave labor.” Dragging vis tongue over vis teeth, Vale cut the grey flesh against white bone. Black sludge oozed down vis chin. “Eventually, you’ll run into a resource acquisition problem. Or a resource retainment problem. Or whatever shit accountants say for the tax write-off when the business runs on blood.”

“I don’t think you’re the type to get your paws dirty.” Vale rubbed vis chin in a mockery of a thinking face, mucking up vis paws with rot. “You’ll delegate. But whoever you raise will want your spot. And they’ll have the violent charisma Pittians adore. Like me, these marauders will know violence better than you. Unlike me, they’ll naively think they can handle the bullshit, because running a slave empire only requires sadism and creativity, right? You know better. I know better.”

Vale held out the paw, then looked down and remembered how bloody (sort of? bloody? is that blood that comes out of vis veins?) ve made it for a theatrical whim. “Ugh, see what I mean? Seriously. If I wanted you dead, I would’ve already challenged you. Let’s work together, mkay?”

YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[Renlys]

The squawking tone, no matter the body, was so familiar.  Renlys lifted his great head towards the the commotion, his scales rippling in the harsh sunlight.  Was he imagining that screech?  Time in the desert was said to often get to those who spent too long in the sun - soft-boiling the mind inside their fragile skulls.  As far as he had been told about his own kind, Renlys had always assumed that dragons were immune to such a fate.  How unceremoniously his mind had gone if this was the case.  He hadn't even had breakfast yet!

Fiery red irises focus slide from body to body as he surveys the growing crowd.  Aegon.  Jormungand.  Ollala.  Vale.

Vale.

Renlys' eyes widen, the first hint of real emotion upon the dragon's face in many a-moment.  His serpentine neck shoots up, not dissimilar to the way a loyal dog would greet its master.  Vale.  Vale was back.  So Renlys hadn't been stupid to wait after all.  He approaches his former Ardent with a wide, toothy smile and a rumbling sort of purr, his wings beating frantically in excitement.  It takes everything in him to not roar in delight - Vale was back!

[Olalla]

I'VE NEVER FEARED THE DRUMS OF WAR

OLALLA — MALE — PITTIAN — ARDENT — PLOT

As Vale closed in near his face, the beast wanted nothing more than to spit right in the skinless, ugly face of the creature that slunk before him. Prideless, that's how Olalla would describe Vale. Prideless with the lack of animality. The perfect elixir for a dumbass, not to mention no brain.

Working with such a vile creature was annoying, but it wasn't this vileness that the beast found irritating, it was Vales stubbornness. And in truth, this was a good quality to have, however when it came to things like taking care of others and making sure needs are met, stubbornness was far from appropriate or upright. Olalla sighed, looking now at the goopy, skinless face of the fallen Ardent in more than just life, given the decay, and shook his head as he gently (not really) pushed Vale off of him with flared nostrils.

"Fine," black lips parted in a growl as he spoke, furrowing his brows harshly. "You and i may work together." As much as it pained him to say it, Olalla could agree that two leaders were better than one.

#psychosocial.