.:The Feud:. [Nightingale & Razerwing]

[Nightingale]

As the sun bared down upon the open plains, nothing stirred but the gentle bodies of the tall grass as the wind tousled their standing stems. All was quiet as the day slowly ticked by. A sudden flutter of birds announced the coming of the enemy. Viscera was hunkered down, body still, not a muscle twitched as luminous green orbs peered through the dancing blades of grass. Then they came. Those foolish enough to trespass upon Lamia land. She waited, muscles coiled waiting for the chance to strike. Slowly, they came into view. Four men, armed to their teeth with plate steel and blades of alabaster.

She moved finally, tongue flicking out to draw along her bottom tier as she grinned. They'd walked right into her trap. She'd spotted them tracking her about a mile back and she'd lead them here to the clearing for more open space. Though she knew the others were not far behind she wanted to get her hand in before anyone else could see fit to 'protect' her. They paused in their motions, worried eyes watching the swaying sea of gold and green, by the time they realized they were being hunted it was too late. Viscera struck. She struck true, a blinding blur of brilliance as the curved body of her blade embedded itself into the exposed neck of the nearest hunter.

War cries, a scream of anguish and wide eyed realization of their fatal mistake. The hunters had been following her, believing her to be a woman of a village not too far off. They had hopes of capturing her for slavery. Too little too late did they realize, however, that they had mistakenly been shadowing the very thing they wanted to avoid. Lamia were dangerously beautiful, often attracting attention from men whom though themselves god. Men sought to capture them, to enslave them.. but those men were fools. Smart men knew to avoid the territories of the Lamia, for like venomous snakes -no matter how beautiful- encounters were often fatal.

They did not take well to outsiders and the new ways of men. Lamia followed the ways of old, living off the land, and striving for true power through work and body. A close cousin to the revered -yet more docile- naga, Lamia were more rare than even the dragons that occassionally plagued the villages and kingdoms. Their kind hunted and murdered in their weakest hours, a beneficial factor in the reason why they were now such feared beings.

The man on her blade slowly fell. She drew back and wiped the crimson stain upon his flesh and frowned. The remaining three men positioned themselves in an attempt to overcome her. "fools." She hissed quietly. Viscera was a prime example of that dangerous beauty. She was slender and fair in appearance, body toned and curved, cushioned just right in the right places. Pale, moon kissed complexion glittered in certain light due to the traces of scales beneath the first layer of skin. Ivory hair of silk texture and long length, matched only by her vivid teal orbs and soft pink lips. Lips that hid the delicate fangs that depicted her heiritage.

A movement to the east alerted her the others had arrived. The Feud games were to begin again today, so she was certain her rival was amongst them. However, her current focus was on the hunters at hand. It was time to prove her worth once again. As she had done every year at the time of the Feud.

 

[razerwing]

The larger force came, and much to Tryst's surprise, they hadn't spotted him yet. Foolish humans, with their shiny armor and simple minds. Their eyes were drawn to the commotion that no doubt the female was causing, which gave him the most opportune moment to strike. In a flash, he was infront of the group, both wickedly curved longswords shining in the sunlight. He tensed, studying the human soldiers. With a smile that exposed one of the iconic fangs of the Lamia, he sprung forward, his blades flashing. The humans rushed forward, their pitiful shields raised. He jumped high over their heads, landing in the middle. The finely honed dual swords sliced through armor easily. His eyes flashed as he ducked under one of the soldiers swings, driving his own sword up into the mans chest. Thus, the largest problem of plated armor was revealed. He removed his blade, blocking another swing. While he was preocupied with one soldier, another managed to smack him with the corner of the metal shield. It was a hard enough blow to draw blood.

A flick of the wrist sent the blade flying through the man's chest. Now he was down to one sword. He grinned, noteing one trying to run. He lept high again, stabbing his sword into the ground and using it as a springboard. He landed hard on the runner's back, driving his elbow into the back of his neck. When he got up, he stayed still long enough for the idiots to look at their killer. He had silver hair, cropped short. His skin was pale, scales peeking out every now and then. His eyes were a piercing, hypnotic blue, but unlike most other lamia, he was lithely built. Built for incredible bouts of speed. He drew his last weapon, a straight, incredibly sharp serrated dagger. He ran through their ranks, slicing through vital areas. Soon, the rest lay dead at his feet. He looked at his bloody hands, shaking his head. During this years Feud games, he would prove himself worthy of the name Viscera, and knock that female out of her 'throne'.

 

[Nightingale]

Veloce felt a deep urge to hiss at the sudden onslaught of her days fun. The coming of her rival, as per usual, had been just as disappointing as ever. Each year they repeated this process.. however this was their final chance. To either kill one another, or forfeit their right to the title Viscera. As the last human fell she straightened herself and sheathed her blade. With light, graceful steps she danced her way around the fallen bodies and moved towards Tryst. Slender legs donned to her thighs in leather armored boots. Thin white shorts clung low to her hips and left the smooth expanse of her thighs revealed until they met her armor. Her torso donned a matching blouse, thin and billowing about her slight frame. Its sleeveless body clung to the curves of her torso and billowed at her waist, leaving a small glimpse of flesh. A thick belt at her hips held her dagger and blade. Ivory tresses left down.

Lifting a hand to tuck a few mere strands behind a slightly elongated ear she moved around her appointed foe, and tauntingly trailed delicate fingertips along his shoulder blades as she circled to his front. Her voice a soft, melodic tone. "You sure do know how to ruin a womans fun, Tryst." She cooed. Before facing him full on. "So your arrival means the Feud shall begin... you know.. this time around.. one of us has to die or forfeit and accept exile in our shame." As she stated this she almost sounded uncertain, but everyone knew as well as she did.. even Tryst himself would have to admit, for a woman of slight body and nature, she was powerful beyond means as anyone born on the Moon of Viscera should be, but just so.. he was just as wonderfully gifted.

Veloce's breed of Lamia was revered, those born under Viscera normally resembled more powerful serpents and Veloce's guardian form was that of the King Cobra. A very poisonous being, and she resembled it greatly. Though admittedly, her feelings towards Tryst were mixed, she refused to lose to him. Over the years she'd been forced to compete against him, to try and murder him in his sleep if she could. However he was handsome, and the laws of attraction applied. It was instinct for her to be drawn to the more powerful Lamia, one who could protect her and ensure her a fruitful future.. too bad the perfect candidate was her competition. "Welcome back Tryst."

 

[razerwing]

Tryst raised an eyebrow, flashing a softer, competetive smile towards his rival. He still marveled at the grace she moved, every bit as deadly as a Viscera should be. He sighed. Too bad it would have to end this year though. He really loved the challenges she presented. "Ah, to ruin the fun of a lady ssuch asss you though is what I live for, Viscera." His eyes tracked her movements, his senses switching into overdrive when she moved behind him. At any second, he expected the cold blade to slide into his back.

"Yes, I am well aware of this. It's a sad day really. I was just sstarting to enjoy it. The endlesss hourss of cat and mouse, so exciting." He flashed another of his devilish smiles at her when she came to face him. "I do hope you have ssome good sstuff waiting for me." During the years of the Feud games, he'd had to try to kill his rival, but even though his main objective was to kill her, the excitement she provided, and his... rather hard to explain feelings toward her had kept him from slaughtering her in her sleep. He couldn't bring himself to have such an admirable adversary go out so dishonorably. He bowed when she welcomed him back. "Yesss, welcome back Viscera. Now, shall the games begin?" He wished they'd met under different circumstances. If they hadn't had to kill one another, he knows he would've taken her as his mate, and be a very happy Lamia.

 

[Nightingale]

A vicious, delighted little smile danced across her lips as she traced gentle fingertips across his jaw line. "I do sssssooo love hearing you call me Viscera." She cooed. This time.. she planned to make things different than before. Without truly acknowledging her elders, Veloce had managed to devise something different. Where the feud called for the rise of the Viscera.. perhaps she could bend the rules, play the game a different way. There was nothing that stated she had to kill him outright. She would perhaps convince him of another way to play the game.. a way where they could both win. However, being uncertain of whether she could win over the emotions necessary for such a thing.. she would have to play her cards right.

When she turned her back on him, tribal markings lingered on the flesh, their tone such a brilliant colour it was hard to make them out against her skin, more like scars than anything else. She moved forward a few paces. "I suppose it's high time he got started... but why don't we make this a little interesting eh? I win, you give me a kiss... you win.. well.. that's your choice." She smirked. The game was a little childish, but the risks were so much more than what they had been when they were just children. She moved then, quick enough to cause a common man, even a skilled Lamia to stagger in lack of recognition of her speed. She turned on the ball of her foot and unsheathed her sword in the same single, fluid motion. She swung the blade around in a half circle, it's newly sharpened edge scraping across his cheek without him even feeling it, until it had passed and she stood with an impossible smile. He'd feel a sting at most.. and the soft trickle of blood. A mere initiation that the Feud had finally begun.

 

[razerwing]

Tryst started laughing, rubbing the blood from the shallow cut. "Well, that does sound interesting. It's a deal. Shall we shake on it?" He held his hand out, but instead of an opened hand, it was a fist. A tiny blade shot out, but he knew Viscera would dodge it. In fact, he counted on it. The second she moved away from the barb, he nicked her cheek with his own dagger, flashing her a wicked smile as he flipped away, out of her reach. "The gamesss have begun Vissscera, and we both have kisses on the line." He crouched low, pulling another dagger from inside his vest. "Don't worry, I'll go easssy on you." He chuckled, leaping at her. His speed rivaled her own, especially when he jumped forwards. He managed to nick the left side of her waist, rolling to his feet behind her. He fought like a tiger, low to the ground, with daggers sharper than any man-made weapon. What made the more deadly was their serrated edges.

He kept low to the ground, this time waiting for her to strike. He was as cunning as a fox, but he lacked the ability to plan far into the future. The barb-launchers on his left arm were loaded and ready to be fired. He tilted his head, making the mistake of letting his mind wander. Would it be possible to not kill her, yet still ascertain his place? There couldn't be. He doubted he had enough pull to bend anything concerning things like this. Best play by the rules, to a certain point.

 

[Nightingale]

Viscera stood simply and let him strike. Dodging the decoy and inviting the first and second cut. She smirked. Turning to face him and sinking down to his level. " I do ssssoo love it when you call me Viscera, Tryst.. it makes me all tingly inside." She laughed, the sound sweet as silver bells. Veloce was painted pretty. Sweet curves and features, a melodic.. memorable voice and brilliant eyes to capture the soul.. but just so.. even the deadliest snakes glittered pretty scales in the right light. She strife to the right and watched him. She moved then, a quick dash forward and around, her presence behind him, though she was still within the sight of his peripherals. Her hands cupping his shoulders and her chest pressed against his back. She planted her chin on his shoulder in a non-threatening manner.

Veloce was always different when the elders were not watching, ever playful, ever taunting. "Call me Viscera again? Pleeease Tryst?" she cooed with a soft laugh, keeping herself positioned so he could not strike her without serious self strain. "Do you not ever tire of these stupid games? For once.. let us actually get to know each other.. while the elders do not see us.. and once I feel satisfied.. I believe we can continue upon seeing who shall win whose kiss?" She nuzzled her cheek against his and let out a delighted little purr. Twisted and vicious as she was, even since they were children she had been this way with him. Ever close, ever adoring, yet always loathing. Switching from one extreme to the next in the blink of an eye. It was a defense mechanism.. she had been raised only to protect herself.. to fear all those whom were not of her tribe. Only she could not bring herself to properly fear him.

 

[razerwing]

Tryst raised an eyebrow, chuckling at her admitance. He'd have to remember that little detail. Instinctively, he tensed though as she fluidly moved around to his back, relaxing only slightly when she put her chin on his shoulder, just barely inside his peripheral vision. After so many years of the stalking, the attempted murder, he felt slightly uncomfortable with his enemy behind him. He wouldn't say it out loud, and he certaintly wouldn't let it show. A smile played at the corner of his lips, exposing the tips of his fangs. "Ah...... are you proposssing a truce? My my Vissscera, debauchery behind the eldersss backsss." He leaned back slightly against her. "If I didn't know you better, I'd sssay you like me, or at the very leassst enjoy my company." He chuckled, closing his eyes. Was the Viscera, Veloce, actually proposing something other than the ho-hum routine of the Feud? How odd.

"Asss much asss I'd love to, how do I know thiss issn't an......... assassination attempt on your part love?" He brought his hand up slowly, thanking the Lamia genes for his flexibility, to pet his opponents head. Her hair was amazingly soft. His other hand grasped hers, almost tenderly. His reservations and instinct to survive were still strong though. "Do you know of sssuch a place where the elder onesss do not have their eyesss? And more importantly, what happensss after the winner hasss their kisss? One of usss musst die, Vissscera. The eldersss would not have it any other way."

 

[Nightingale]

She frowned, pressing her cheek to his tenderly. "Don't play dumb Trysst. " She hissed softly at his ear. "You know as well as I.. that the only reason we fight.. is because they tell us we have to.. the tell us that only one of us can exist. The other must die.. but why then.. would the Gods have allowed for us both to be born under the Moon of Viscera?" She felt his hand pet over her hair and she closed her eyes for a moment, dropping her voice several pitched to a whisper so only he could hear her. "I've been studying the history of our people.. and listening in on the elders.. and none of this makes sense to me anymore. They manipulated us for their own good, Tryst.. some of the elders are uneasy about it.. they can't hide it.. but some of them are working towards a different cause. I believe there may be betrayal in the ranks my dear Tryst and I don't mean my completely forbidden feelings for you."

She let go of him finally and made her way back around him to face him. Her hands at her sides, finger tips idly brushing the tops of her thigh-high armored boots. She looked at him almost pleadingly. "I'm asking for your help Tryst.. help me understand why one of us must die.. where in our history it says nothing of it.. because it was sworn by the gods.. should we turn against our brethren.. darkness will haunt our hearts.. and the nightmares we are.. will become our own." She bit her bottom lip some and got intimately close to him again. " As Viscera I.. we.. have a knowledge that the elders do not.. we have a gift they do not.. we are warriors.. we are the Gods chosen Tryst.. and my senses tell me something isn't right and it took me too long to notice it."

 

[razerwing]

He sighed, looking to the sky. "I don't recall playing dumb. I'm well aware of the fact that the elders are the reason for our fighting." As she moved on, he tilted his head. "As far as I know, we were born to fight. The reason only one can exist is simple. We are not only warriors, but powerful ones. Even the clanless Lamia can see that the edlers fear our power." His curiosity deepened as her voice dropped to a whisper. His head was now filling with questions, something he'd been taught not to do. He was raised to follow orders, to be the warrior he was born to be. Now all this new information inevitably piqued his interest. And then, she admitted her feelings for him. He couldn't help but draw in a slow, short breath. Should he tell her of his feelings?

"Betrayal in the higher ranks hm? It's..... an interesting idea. Plausible too. I have noticed disension among them." He looked directly into her eyes, letting his guard down quite a bit as he pondered. His arms were crossed. This was rather interesting. "I don't mind being manipulated though, to an extent. As to where and what the elders are working for, I'm curious." He met her pleading gaze with his own piercing one, searching for answers. "Do you have any input on how to escape the Feud games, and to see where this betrayal leads?"

 

[Nightingale]

"There's no immediate escape of the Feud.." She admitted reluctantly. "We can only hope that we can both hold on, until we can finally put this behind us... that.. or as acting Viscera... we put the Elders to an end here and now." She fixed her stance, moving herself about a foot away from him. "Following the scrolls of the first elders.. the Viscera's decisions overwhelm those of the Elder council. " She laughed quietly to herself. Before shaking her head and looking him in the eyes. "I don't really expect you to follow... stay, play the pet to the elders and let them give you the title Viscera.. as for me.. the Feud Games are taking a different turn. I will ensure every last head will roll... those who betrayed me and mine will pay. They will taste of my wrath and know what death looks like. "

She shrugged her shoulders and turned slightly, she could hear the elders in the distance drawing nearer to the grounds on which they stood. " I believe the elders are looking to reincarnate the spirit of Mayr, by pitting us against each other. I remember an old nursery story.. my father used to tell me.. about a Viscera who was pitted against his own brethren.. a great evil encompassed his brother.. and the great war ensued. Mayr was the name of that evil.. and by blood shed.. and pitting brother against brother.. they want to create the perfect candidate.. or so I believe.. if they've found a way to awaken his soul.. all they need is for one of us to kill the other.. and open oneself to that evil.. I refuse to do it."

 

[razerwing]

He nodded, noting her reluctance. "No immediate escape, and yet you say a Viscera's decision outweigh's the Elder's. There lies our escape. And yet, if they are twisted, corrupt, than what will happen if they reject? It would start a fight, and conflicts lead to wars." He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And if you did not expect me to follow, then you'd have never told me of this, never made me question. I play pet out of curiosity, not out of duty. To make someone think they control you is the quickest way to find their true ambitions." He looked up, his eyes hard as he returned her fierce look. "You and yours have been betrayed, and I have no doubt the Elder's will fall, but think about it. If the council is corrupt, who else might be? There could be an entire network of backstabbing double faced beings here. If we move against them, we must do it carefully." He paused, letting her have her turn to speak.

His ears pricked though as he heard others approaching, and then Veloce's theory about Mayr. He remembered that old story. The spirit of war, of death, of evil. Could the Council be trying to reincarnate a nursery rhyme? "So, what you mean to tell me," he started in a low whisper, "Is that the Elder Council is trying to bring back an evil spirit? That makes no sense. Why would they bring something evil here? What purpose would it serve?" The Elders were soon close enough to be able to hear, so he shot her a 'We'll talk later' look, and turned to face the newcomers on the field.

 

[Nightingale]

As the elders drew closer, and his attention finally turned, Veloce took this time to vanish. Disappearing from the open field without a sound. She returned to her village refusing to play out the final rounds of the Feud so soon. The council was close to figuring out just how aware she was, and her informant was in danger. She had to ensure the safety of those immediate to her before she could continue to play the devils advocate. Quietly she coursed the village pathways, finding her way back to the outskirts where she lived with her father. The man was a prominent figure in the council but he'd fallen ill over the past few nights and Veloce was growing more and more worried. The vicious facade of the Viscera melted away as she entered past the drapes of the doorway and with luminescent eyes full of concern she smiled down at the ill and sat at his bedside. "I've done just as yu asked father. I've opened his eyes to the truth. Soon... soon I promise this trechery will end. I will destroy them before they can ruin what we once were. " The man was barely coherent. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. His skin was clammy and warm. Too warm for their naturally cool bodies.

The man coughed and grasped her hand weakly. "Your mother would be proud of you Veloce... Your Guardian, Viscera.. chose you for a reason.." He broke into sputtering coughs and she quieted him, comforting him before rising once more and leaving the small hut. When the council arrived at the field she was certain they would be angered to find her absent from the beginning ceremonies of the final feuds. good riddance. They'd hunt her down certainly and attempt to punish her for the insult, or perhaps they would punish her by proclaiming him Viscera and banishing her to death or foreign borders. Either way she didn't care, they would die for their betrayal. She closed the drape softly and turned in the direction she'd come from. Just how well would he take to what she'd told him?

 

[razerwing]

Tryst mumbled under his breath, drawing his knife as he strode across the field to meet them. "These humans. They were weak. If you want a Viscera, a true warrior, I should expect stronger game, for those periods in between the feud." He spun the knife carelessly, smirking. "I grow bored easily. A restless warrior doesn't listen to his superiors." Those piercing eyes looked up, boring into one of the elders with a cold steel. "Especially if those superiors are hiding something." He shrugged, pacing like a predator toying with it's prey. He exuberated confidence and lethality.

In a flash, he was close enough to strike at the elders, resheathing the blade. A devious grin played along his lips. "Now, I would like to begin these...... final games as soon as possible. I'm getting quite bored." He shrugged, backing off a little, same confident smirk on his face. Now he had something to do, a truth to uncover. Now, he was on the hunt, for blood, and for reason. Then, he noticed their affront at the absence of Veloce. "Oh, and one more thing. You will not punish my opponent for her disappearance. This is my battle, and a title given, is not a title earned." He chuckled, bowing lightly, curious as to how they would react. "You may now begin with your..... opening ceremonies."

 

[Nightingale]

One of the councilmen looked upon him with a smug look. "The female should be present for this.. do you honestly stand for obvious disrespect of you? Her ignorance is beginning to sicken us." They formed their usual line up and settled into prayer positions. One hand raised to the heavens, the other drawing runes in the dirt.

--

"You should be at the Ceremony Veloce.." A soft, womans voice sounded from behind her and Viscera merely shrugged.

"They only wish to devour me.. soul and all. I will crush them, like the brittle rodents that are. Devour their souls and condemn them to hell. " She growled lowly, gritting her teeth and clenching her fist. The woman placed a soft hand upon Veloce's shoulder to comfort her. "You take your fathers words to heart, and you use the gift the gods have given you how you see fit. Win the Feud Veloce, for our sakes."

"The feud doesn't matter anymore, the Gods bestowed upon our people two Viscera.. and we shall take what was given to us and give back to the people."

She meandered back towards the fighting grounds. finally appearing at the edge of the field with a feigned yawn and a look of utter boredom. "You old crones done muttering to the earth yet so we can get this show on the road?"

The sarcastic beauty made her way towards her annointed position. Long ivory tresses billowing slightly in the cool breeze. Luminous eyes narrowed in a sleepy effect and eyeing Tryst. "You just gonna stand there all day, I think they want to see some blood shed."

She took a lucid stance. The runes she'd glanced on the way in weren't the typical prayer runes for victory in battle. They were the runes meant to be the vigil in which to raise the evil they so wished to inherit the earth. They needed the blood of a Viscera shed upon them in order for their ritual to be complete, and Veloce wanted to make it happen, just so she could tear their dreams out from under them.

 

[razerwing]

Tryst only tilted his head at the elders. "One who shows no respect doesn't get very far. But please, don't insult her. She isn't ignorant, or else I'd have won already." He never really liked the prayer ceremonies. They only prolonged the funner things. Although, he had to admit, there was something sinister about the markings that donned the battlefield now. Something very unsettling. He shook it off, watching as Veloce walked up to the elders.

"Well, look at that. See, she isn't ignorant." He wagged his finger at the elders, watching their eyes. He could just barely catch a small glimpse of fear. When he heard her voice taunting him though, he snapped into attention, quickly noting her stance. What was her game plan? She was the one who told him about the elder's supposed plans, and yet, was she trying to fulfill them? Well, no use in thinking about it now. It might cost him his life if he ended up confused. He sighed, assuming a relaxed, casual stance, his hands placed at his sides. His legs held him up loosely, and he swayed with the wind, his eyes partially closed. His hands though, were rigid and straight.