The man's words had rung too true to ignore. Isabella could not deny him that fact. The city was dead. She saw it clear as day. There were no candles in the windows, no lights. There was not the laughter of distant children, mothers, men and whores. True, voices rang now and then through the decrepit buildings, but they were speaking to a single being. There was no life left in this dead city. It took her all of a half hour to realize that she had wasted her time. People came and left, taking what they wanted. All she had before her was silence. It had been enough to almost make her cry, if she did not have the strength of a whore to keep her back straight and eyes dry. Isabella stared at the vacant windows as the mare beneath her stepped nervously. This city was haunted by more ghosts than the woman cared to challenge. Mother Gaia would not help her here. There were too many ghosts to appease and they all cried out for attention. Too many died here, too many lingered. She turned her horse the other way and sent the mare racing away.
Breathing became easier when she could not see the cityscape anymore. It had been far too hard to bear it. At least in Toronto and Montreal the soul of the living managed to lighten up the world decimated with death. The brightness of life was enough to cast the shadows to the corners, where the dead still slivered. Not that Isabella had to fear them in her own little corner of fire and passion. Yet the prospect of settling in this dead place was more than enough to turn her around and seek refuge elsewhere. She had been offered a place with that stranger, alluring and dangerous as he was. At least, she could see what he offered. If it was unacceptable, she would settle near the mountains, and keep herself a private life. No big meals would she eat but there would be plenty, especially when the men and women began to hear of her services.
The ring on her thumb was loose, and she played with it as she nudged her mare toward the boarders she had scented so long ago. He had told her the name of the pack, and that she ought to call for him at when she reached it. If she had chosen to come visit. And so Isabella came with all her possessions in tow. However, if the man did not properly please her, she knew she would turn back around and find a nice cabin to take up as her own. But, the prospect of a winter fed on small prey was not tempting. She dismounted the mare, still fidgeting with the ring on her thumb. It was a big thing, with a large red stone set in silver. Honestly, it had seemed a good idea at the time to wear it.
The mare fidgeted on, and Isabella held onto the reins as she stood at the borders. Her white maw raised high and she called for the man, expecting to deal with his deviousness soon enough. He was well versed in her tricks and he had none she hadn't seen before. A good foe, especially when she didn't need to pretend she was nothing other than a woman who offered what she had been given by the grace of the Mother and demanded payment in turn.
Omnomnomnom! Here is the necklace mentioned below, btw >:3 -> 5+
Her call rang, sweet and true, the cry of a Fae creature.
The King heard it, just faintly, from where he perched. Like a great bird of prey the monarch sat on one of the crumbling walls of his kingdom. The skeletal remains of an extension of the castle had been blistered and shredded by foul winter and harsh ocean winds, and his dark form lingered on one of the remaining structures, a stone and mortar line that toppled at roughly a meter and a half tall, at its highest parts. His bearcoat rustled in the whispering breeze that carried her voice to royal ears - Tall, coyote satellites they were, herald of his princely blood that had been marred by wolfish ancestry.
Black lips curled up, a sensual and deadly smile, as the gypsy woman's voice was brought to him by this murmuring wind. Ignoring the other secrets it told, the cunning monarch leapt deftly to his feet and moved into a fast stride.
The mare was waiting, bridled and ready, outside of his chamber, just as he had requested. The slaves had become adequate at such a task, but he check the bridle for security nonetheless. Deeming it suitable, the dark man patted her silver withers brusquely, before striding past the docile herbivore and into the depths of his room.
The Throneroom, deemed for the giant stone chair carved into its depths, had been claimed by the King the instant he had set eyes on it. Few were allowed into its depths, fewer still without his allowance. Only Clover, the coyote girl, had been given such privilege - It was to fulfill her job, and he saw now with a smirk of pleasure that she had. His belongings were dusted and cleaned, set out neatly as they always were; Each smelling just slightly of the sweet herbal fragrances of the golden-haired beauty he had allowed into his most private space. Dark brows furrowed a moment, as that familiar tugging of lust stirred within his cold blood. Clover was not like the gypsy woman, Isabella - He could picture her dark hair, the delicious curves of her body, even now - for one was pure as fresh-fallen snow, and the other a dark and sinful pleasure for any man who could afford her tastes.
The thought provoked him to pause, a moment, before swooping down on the old wooden chest lined up neatly with the side of the room. Pulling the rusted lock open, the monarch rifled through its contents, his dark and brooding scowl remaining until at last creamy fingers found what they sought. With a sinister smile, the King of Thorns pulled out a small leather pouch - The same one that had been given to him by Ezekiel, Aquila of Inferni. Gabrielson had paid him well for the horses he had provided, but it was not the gold therein that Sirius sought - Wicked claws so delicately pinched a shimmering thread of silver, pulling it free of the little bag until at last the ruby pendant dangled free.
It swung slightly, catching the light within its squared gemstone like ripe droplets of thick blood. In all, the necklace was rather humble - The Revlis man had much more extravagant pieces of craftsmanship stored away, emeralds and sapphires and gems of all colors. But for some reason this simple blood-red ruby made him think again of the impetuous Isabella, and so in a decisive action he stashed it away into a pocket hidden in the folds of his thick cloak.
The ride to the border was swift. None of the Family halted him - Perhaps they had heard the stranger calling his name and thought it odd, or ominous. This wild land, harsh and ugly and yet terribly beautiful, held many secrets - Such was the way of Salsola. What the King did was his business alone.
The babbling and hissing of the Pictou river marked the border of the Thistle Kingdom. The mountains had began to send down their frosty breath, leaving many of the smaller sections of the watery vein with a thin layer of ice. Luna's silver hooves crunched tentatively through this surface as Sirius bid her cross, at one of the shallower sections of the stream. From there, it took little effort to locate the woman who had summoned him.
She was dismounted, and he noticed at once that both she and the palomino seemed tired, perhaps fidgety - What Isabella could hide, for she was crafty and surely good at masking her emotions, her steed could not. Narrowed pupils drank in the woman with that age-older hunger, and also a curious, unreadable lightness. He guided Luna slowly towards the woman and allowed the horse to halt a short distance from her. The mare's silvery nostrils flared and she whickered softly, an uneasy sound of greeting to the golden horse that she had met once previously.
Sirius dismounted, silent but for the rustlings of his bearhide cloak. Power lingered about him - It was much harder, almost impossible, to hide it so close to his territory. The scent of power, of his royalty, rolled from his dark pelt. If the Gypsy woman had not guessed him to be a man of standing after their last meeting, then she would be a fool not to do so now, for his brooding arrogance and easy confidence, along with that predatory and primitive aura of danger and power, marked him as a ruler here. "What is this?" Came the dark and sultry purr of the monarch's voice, thrumming like a pleased growl deep within his throat, "It seems I find a jewel on my doorstep. I assumed that not even Halifax's cold grip would hold you for long," Sharp yellow teeth welcomed her, dared her. She would not reject him again - Not if she wished to find solace here. Creamy, surprisingly elegant fingers emerged from beneath his dark coat. They opened to reveal the glittering silvery chain, and the dark ruby gem that dropped from his hand like blood caught on a fine spiderweb. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Isabella. I am an impatient and easily bored man - It is, surely, one of my few flaws. Perhaps you have come to lift my mood?"
Light, delicate fingers ran over the mare's sides as she fidgeted. Isabella wondered what had the pretty mare all in a fuss. Perhaps she was still terribly afraid of the coydog, and afraid of the smell of others here. It was heavy, to be honest, but it reeked of that stranger she had met in the fields. His presence was terribly thick here, and that meant only one thing. But Isabella refused to swallow that pill just yet, for it was not up to her to make these guesses. However, if he thought that pretended to be something other than a lord was going to amuse her, he had another thing coming. Not that he would have any idea about, to be perfectly honest. She was good at making men guess. Only, with him she would have to try twice, if not thrice, as hard to keep him guessing about her. No problem.
Ducky bobbed anxiously as both of them smelled the man's presence come to them. Isabella straightened her back and brought her silks tightly against her form. He had enjoyed ogling at her plenty the last time they had met. He could ogle her some more if he so wished. The red silk was tight against her chest and the heavy cloth skirt hung with the golden dangling hem. It tugged at all the right curves. But she had a long time to know what sat well on her and what did not, and what made the men keep coming back to her.
Seductive Deception snorted at the smell of the other mare, calming slightly at the presence of another horse. That creature was thankfully mostly calm, useful horseflesh or else Isabella would have been at a loss at what to do with her. Her bi-colored eyes lifted up to the man mounted, looking at him from under her lashes. Her white fingers graced along the mare's flank as she turned to face him, leg deftly protruding forward from the slash in her skirt. That's twice now the man has not lied, she thought grimly, keeping a slow smile on her face. Her eyes gave way to a look of gladness, for his presence. But naturally, she knew he would have come if he wanted a chance at all at having what he saw before him. And he came so willingly.
At his first words, the woman straightened her shoulders, twisting them to stretch them as she gave a light, airy chuckle. The motion raised her bust slightly and called more attention to it in a subtle fashion. The man would not see it as subtle, that was to be sure. But nothing hurt fanning the flames either, especially as it served as a reminder for what he had before him. Though she had to push away her annoyance at the arrogance in his voice, keeping her smile light and her eyes free of the betraying thoughts.
Briefly, her eyes flitted to the chain and pendant dangling from his deft fingers. It looked like a pretty trinket, and she rather enjoyed the look of it. Gold she had aplenty of, but silver was more uncommon for her, namely because gold accentuated her better. Still, that trinket was red. Isabella gave him a coy grin, letting her fingers run down her shoulders as she stepped a foot or so toward the man. He was dripping in power and ego, and she had no illusions about who he was here. "Pleasure? I had hoped so," she said arrogantly back at him, inspecting him now that she had a better closer look at him. Had they already had a relationship, she would have run her hands down his arm to the trinket in his hands but instead, she simple stood as fluidly as she could. Her arms were crossed just under her bust and the slash in the skirt revealed the curve of her thigh.
"I have come, as you see. But I don't know about easing that mood you have." Isabella gave a sigh, legs crossing over one another beneath her as she took a step side to side, looking at him. She had no right to be so arrogant here, but he clearly desired her and she needed the place to stay. Surely, they could come to an agreement. "You've told me nothing of this place. I'd like to know where it is I'm stepping into before you lead me in," she said softly, shoulders shrugging to tighten the silk around them.
She played a dangerous game, this temptress with the sultry gaze and the smoldering body. It was a narrow path between annoyance and amusement that had her taunting the Thistle King so - And proud as he was, it delighted the King to be so simply challenged. This was a game of the highest caliber; A war of seductive smiles, a battle of gentle curves and coy glances. Who would be the victor, and what would their victory entail? Sirius already knew full well what he wanted from the gypsy woman, who had curled into his cold blood and stirred it heady with the heat of her gaze and intentions.
The tendrils of cold that came down on the breath of the mountain grew sharper with each passing day, making more noticeable the cold emptiness within the King's chambers. It had been some time since he had taken a lover - The Crone, Tlantli, had stirred his blood like this one, and she had felt some of the flames of his ravenous lust. But now there was none, none that he would allow himself to sample; Clover was to be kept pure, although he craved her well enough. But this one, this beautiful and entrancing Isabella, she was fresh flesh, welcoming to the hungry slit of his predatory pupils.
Her gaze inspected him, as his had her, and Sirius knew no humbleness or self-consciousness. He knew himself to be a handsome creature - The darkblood within him, the blood of a mad prince and a ancient royalty, each splitting like lightning from his family tree and joining, at last, within his own flesh. The wicked Northern monarch was surely descendant of Narcissus, so vain and proud. The four deep scars carved into the flesh over his heart stood out starkly from his plush fur of dark mocha and warm caramel cream. Meanwhile, olive eyes took the chance to measure her again, and found her as sumptuous as the first time they had met. Silky fur, womanly curves, lean but plush frame - She would warm his bedfurs well enough, indeed.
She teased him with her words, but the King allowed it with a dark smile of his own. Black lips curled up to reveal a glittering of yellowed teeth, but they were hidden again just as quickly. With easy steps he sauntered forward, closing the distance between them until her smell surrounded him - Pleasant, and just what he had expected from such a beautiful exotic creature. "Well, now, it takes a little more than a smile to loosen my tongue, dearest Isabella," Came the caramel purr, wickedly curved claws playing delicately with the silvery chain of the bloodred ruby pendant. His eyes lingered on her, hungrily. "Perhaps you should tell me why it is that this place would like to have you, after all?" Salsola secrets slipped about in the gentle wind around them, the gentle babbling of the Pictou reaching his ears from somewhere behind them, back the way he had come. His Kingdom was notoriously picky when choosing to allow strangers into their midst - He had little doubt that she was worthy, oh yes, but it would have been foolish of him to accept her so easily. With a smooth flick of the wrist, he threw the ruby necklace towards the Gypsy whore, expecting her to pluck it easily from the air. "Perhaps, you should show me, instead."
phoooooo making me TRY. how dare you? (I'm sorry for the pp, please let me know if you want it changed)
Word Count ► 673
She gave him an entirely innocent look, cocking her head at him as he approached her. His scent seemed to overwhelm her, surround her. His was an aroma most intoxicating, but it would not get her drunk. The price was far too high for her and she did not find herself needing to bother to pretend she wanted it. She did not. There was nothing that would make her find more than physical attraction to this man, alluring as he was. There was little good about him besides the offer of a pack, protection, and a client who could satisfy her own wanton needs. But, Sirius was indeed a handsome creature, and she had always had a hard time turning down men with rather interesting scars. Those on his chest were definitely fascinating, and she wanted to know more about the fighter who received them and why he had been so weak as to obtain them.
One hand of hers began to play with a strand of hair as he seemed to take her in. His eyes were hungry, nothing new. Men were always hungry when they came to her, because that was why they came in the first place. This was nothing new. And he came with payment in hand. Of course he knew from the get go what she was and he knew that she was not a creature frugal with her charges. Cheap she most certainly was not, and he saw that. And he delivered. How would she say no?
There was definitely that air of power about him, and she liked it. It was almost tangible. Maybe he would have more kick to him than some others, and he would be open handed if he enjoyed her work. He certainly would, so she hoped. She did her best and she often did well. It was a certainly satisfactory business. Sirius would be enjoyable when the moment came, and all these games made things even more exciting.
He tossed the inlaid gem at her and her nimble fingers caught it deftly. She held it up to her eye and noticed the glitter. It was no fake, something she had gotten terribly good at figuring out at a glance. Thankfully, this was real enough. Even so, it was pretty enough that she would have over looked it. Lowering it, she gave the man a smile, full of promises, but it slowly faded into something like regret. "It's a pity. It's such a terribly beautiful thing." Isabella closed the distance between them completely, light hand on his arm, the silver chain was pressed against his muscled flesh. She ran her fingers over his arm and then around his back. Her steps were light, in line. The motion made her hips sway completely, brushing against his thigh and cloak , curled tail flitting around his leg. "True pity."
She gave a heavy sigh as she was behind him. Her hand was deft across his cloaked back, pressing slightly so he could feel her. "My lord Sirius, that is what you are, aren't you?" her honeyed words said in a hushed tone to his back as she stretched to coo against the back of his head. There was no real question in her word as she drew back around the broad man to the other side. "Don't play this game. We both know what you want and what I can give. I am quite willing to acquiesce to your desire, which you know I know of."
Isabella had come around him full circle. She stood tall before him, hand still on his arm as she snaked it to his chest and over the scars there. "I don't really think I'm being terribly demanding. I'm sure there are things I ought to know. Wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes.." She cocked her head at him, gazing at him out of one bi-colored eye as she lowered her hand further down his built chest and stomach.
I know I am slow, so I accepted her in this post. Am gonna send you a PM about it all, too. Ilu <3 and the PP was just fine c: -> 5+
She made no flowery words to feign ignorance of his meaning - No silly, detestable flaunts of an ignorance he knew that she didn't have. She was a whore, a prostitute, and this made her worldly; Full of the knowledge, smarts and wisdom that only such women could truly have. He could tell, from his own wariness and from the effect that she was having on him, that Isabella knew the way of men. He could tell that she knew how their hearts beat, and how their blood could run so very warm.
While this made her, in a sense, dangerous to him - A liability to his self control, a hazard to the wicked wonder of his mind - It also made her irresistibly alluring. A challenge. The man's salmon pink tongue ran, almost nervously, almost in anticipation, across his black lips as the coydog approached him. Her voice was warm and of a naturally seductive tenor, something few women were born with, and something fewer could ever hope to fully hone in the way she clearly had. The power of the voice was never something to be underestimated - This was something Sirius, the silver-tongued serpent of Salsola, had learned very early on. He controlled the hearts and minds of his followers with the rich tenor of his voice. It was the voice of a leader, the voice of a King. Hers held a different power equally able to sway the fickle desires of men.
The first touch of her fingertips, just grazing the flesh of his arm, was enough to send an involuntary shiver through the lean muscle there. It had been so long since he had felt such a touch - so light, and yet so filled with potential wickedness. There were no deceptions here. He had the voracious libido of a male in his prime, and she had accepted his payment, proving herself in some way willing. Acidic olive eyes, of a color so volatile and strange that they seemed to embody the hue of venom itself, trailed her for as far as they could before she disappeared behind him. He resisted the impulse to turn with her, remaining still.
Her succulent tones voiced their opinion, and it was correct. "You are observant," He allowed an arrogant smirk to come easily to dark features. It did not surprise him that she had guessed his rank, but it pleased him nonetheless to know that the woman had enough instincts to pick up on such a thing. It was nothing he had said verbally, but those of the old ways - Before they had been blessed with the virus and learned to think as only man could - would have known instantly of his dominance. It was important that civility did not steal their sharpness, their primal instincts, away from them.
Her tones rebuked him lightly, but seriously. It seemed the exotic beauty had had enough of playing his games. One dark browspot rose, intrigued, but he allowed her to speak - allowed her to reach out again and let her cool fingertips caress the four deep grooves of his scar, just about the steady beating of his heart. But she had the mind of a minx, and his impassiveness was finally shattered as her wandering fingers found themselves headed to a place most private, a place that had already begun to show of his apparent desire for her.
His had whipped out, grabbing her delicate wrist firmly, halting its path to his own bliss. His mind was far too clouded by arousal - The monarch would not allow her to toy with such power and control, not while he still had the might of his wit to foresee where it would lead, here on the borders of his territory. The king's grip on her wrist was firm, but gentle, and he brought her open palm back up to his mouth, and placed a single kiss upon it. "You are quite the vixen," Came his hot purr, but although the words were chiding, they were laced with far too much approval to truly be so. Olive eyes did not move from her face, but he released the woman's hand gracefully, and took a step back, allowing for the cooler air to swell between them and release his mind of her woman's magic once more. Black lips quirked up, but his frame was still taught with desire. Canny as he was, all men had weaknesses, and Sirius' just happened to be beauty - Especially beautiful women. "I am the King here, the Lord of Thistle," His sharp teeth grinned at her, wolfishly large despite the somewhat coyote angles of his dark and brooding features. "My word is law, and it is thus: You are now allowed here, to stay with my Family, Isabella of the living cities."
Because his body was craving her, he made no further move towards her, but instead dipped his head - Just once, and just slightly. It was all the proud monarch would give her, by way of true respect, to show that his words had some honor within them. "I welcome you to Salsola."
Welcome to Salsola! As a new member of the pack, you're ranked as an Associate. We strongly encourage you to read over the Associates page of our website for further information about your rank, promotions, and other relevant things.
As a new member, why not:
Start plotting with your fellow members -- start or join an Open Thread on Salsola territory.
Figure out if your character wants the Cotona ritual to take place, and where on their body they'd like the scar.
Figure out which of the co-ranks you'd like and let the leadership know which you'd like to join.
Check out our pack game and start earning points! You can claim a residence after 50 points in the pack game.
Familiarize yourself with the pack's leaders and make sure you contact one of us if you encounter any sort of difficulty or require any assistance. You can send us a Private Messages or post to the Salsola Maintenance thread.
wee <3, also hope you don't mind that i pp that they talked about her rank here.
Word Count ► 490
The moment her deftly skilled fingers wove downward, slinking as low as she dared to go without his expressive say so - which was still pretty low. His hand shot out, and the colorful woman managed to keep her look level, betraying none of the feelings of success that filled her. She was rather proud to have been able to force the man to react, and it was more than obvious now that he was lusting after her, even a little bit. But at least he had the self-restraint to grab her wrist and pull her guilty hand away from his sensitive regions. What would it look like to a lord's subjects to see the King so high above them doing something so low as them? It would not do, not at all.
Sirius took her hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss, though the woman could easily see that gentleman was something he only played at. Isabella liked that; gentlemen all wanted the same thing anyway, best be that they were open about it and let their uncouthness show. Isabella figured it was only decorum that kept the man from collecting what his trinket had already paid for, well in advanced. But she had a distaste for such displays in public, where people could eyeball a free show without paying for it. Once, she had done that, charged for a show and it was even stranger considering the payment came from a woman watching her man. It was strange, but Isabella had only asked for payment and payment had come into her hands willingly. Why say no?
So he was a King, a lord here. That meant he had wealth and power in this land of thistles, as he had called it. Kingdom? That was certainly better than finding a dusty old log cabin or cottage and attempting to create a business in a place as dead as a winter garden. But he welcomed her nonetheless. She gave him a coy smile, lightly touching his arm as she looked toward the interior of the territory. "Salsola," she said, tasting the word on her tongue and testing the flow of it off her lips. Her bi-colored eyes shifted back to him, as he explained to her what her new rank entailed in the kingdom he governed so proudly.
What rankled her was that she had to be subservient to the other people, even if she could not find approval for them nor care about them. Isabella was careful to not let her displeasure show, simply listening to him explain what would need to be done, as well as what she may have to do. Branding? That seemed extreme to her. But perhaps things would not have to go so far as that. "And who shall guide me in this cold land?" cooed the colored woman, squeezing at his arm as she flicked her tail against his leg gently.
