if i had a heart;; [nirvana] May 21, 2014 8:02:56 GMT -6
Post by RANJIT;; on May 21, 2014 8:02:56 GMT -6
watch your tongue
i'll have it cut from your head
R A N J I T
save your life
by keeping whispers unsaid
Heavy snow blanketed the realm. Winter had come with the utmost fury and even the equines whose coats overgrew to protect them suffered from the malignant chill. Salmon tinged innards of his flaring nostrils showed as the ashen mogul moved sluggishly along through the thick coating of ivory particulates that covered the entirety of the kingdom. It seemed to the former monarch that nary an inch had not been concealed beneath the sheet of alabaster and a thick sense of loathing caked in his chest. The huge barrel of the beast heaved as he drug his chassis through the snow. The ebony rocks were all but concealed behind clinging rime that stuck to them, sheeting the entire ravine in ivory. The alabaster mogul held an array of camouflage against the snow, for his bodice and tendrils were nearly the same hue as the virgin snow around him. Only the coral tint of his visionary spheres, the inky spot upon his broad chest, and the ebonite tips of his thick tendrils gave his steady movement away. Plumes of fine, hot mist escaped from those flared nadars as his heavy lungs worked and a flash of that hot hatred for this abhorrent season arose once more to wrap thorny tendrils about his beating cardiac muscle. The Cadaverous Kaiser really hated winter.
Night had fallen thick around him, a veil of blackness dotted by milky pinpoints of light within the celestial boundaries. The heavens seemed very far away indeed to the huge beast who strode beneath them, now and then pausing to permit his cranial tomb to rise aloft to peer into that silken darkness. The heavens above this realm had always been strange and lovely to the former Dark king, who looked upon them with a slight fondness staining his pale sanguine oculars. The tyrant had never feared the darkness of night, for he had loved the stars too fondly to do so. There was a brief moment where he wondered, just for a second, if Adviendha, wherever she was, looked up at those pricks of light and missed him as badly as he currently missed her. An exhalation escaped and the chalky monarch permitted his skull to drop once more, caudal flicking at his hinds listlessly before falling still. Giving his powerful nape a sharp shake, the mogul continued onward, moving deeper into the valley protected by the ravine, glancing to and fro here and there to greet or nod to the various horses settling for the night. Though Obascus was mostly protected from the brumal winds that swept down from the mountains, the equines suffered along during the winter. Clouds were building in the west and the hessian knew, as he watched them through wise and cold pools of palest carmine, that by the time the sun began to peek above the line of the horizon that snow once more would be falling from swollen clouds to collect upon whatever surfaces, living or otherwise, it might locate. The equines would be fortunate indeed to escape a blizzard and he suspected one would come sooner or later.
Cautious strides brought his form around a bend in the river to the place where the Empress most often preferred to settle herself down. As to be expected, the tangerine femora stood with her back facing to the icy winds, her petite babe settled far enough off as to not be within hearing but in sight, warm near a protected spot. Musculature rippling as he came to a halt some ways off, the ivory hessian took a moment to observe the amber and ink stained bitch. She stood out vividly against the blanched landscape, her powerful chassis compact and the picture of health, if a bit thin from the winter months. Ranjit, too, had lost the weight he normally did, though by no means were either of the massive equines gaunt in any way. Her inked tendrils hung nearly to the sod with her skull lowered slightly but the slightly uneven rise and fall of her chest with each breath revealed to the mogul that the Imperium czarina was in fact quite awake. Indeed, the chalky hessian suspected she knew already that he was there, observing her without speech. When first they had met, what seemed like so long ago, the blanched brute had assumed he would need to eventually fight against her, that her ambition would drive her in an attempt to supersede his throne from him. Instead, the bay femora had proven her worth time and time again as being well deserved of the trust he had eventually laid before her and now the kaiser would not dream of laying forth a challenge to her, if ever he so desired to rule these lands again. No such longings had arisen as of late, however; Ranjit's reign would not be complete with anyone at his side by his dappled fae, Adviendha.
Breath escaping him in a slow expiration, the beast lifted his cannons in a high stepping walk to break through the layer of rime atop the snow until he reached her. Though not often given to overt displays of affection to anyone but the tiny temptress who he was beginning to finally understand would never return, the achromic beast permitted his pale muzzle to brush along the inky tendrils that hung from her nape. Dental weaponry were unveiled enough to place an affectionate nip to the withers of the femora as the huge hessian moved to stand beside her, assisting in blocking the wind from her by taking the brute force of it against him. The mogul slung his crania over her shoulders and let his chassis rest against her own, grateful for the steady warmth and the glorious sensation of a bodice near his own. Ranjit sighed, coral gems half-closed against the wind. "I am sorry to hear of the Reckoning and Evictus, Nirvana. I know you and the Reckoning were close. I will gather a few members of the militia and see if we can succeed in driving out or slaying this wolf pack that is haunting our doorstep." His low rasp of a voice rumbled forth, vibrating where his chest rested against her bodice, the guttural quality of it more pronounced as it always became during the cold months of the vicious winter. The wolves that had taken refuge within the ravine and the surrounding landscape posed a problem for them all, the monarch knew, and they would need to be dealt with shortly so that they claimed no more victims. He thought, only briefly, of his uncle-son, Sarwin, whose life, too, had been claimed by the wolves of Obascus and felt a prickle of sorrow roll through him, though it moved on swiftly. He and Sarwin had not been close and the black bastard had borne no love lost for the ivory former-king. Ranjit felt little for the brute now that he no longer strode this earth.count;; 1159
notes;; i have an unbelievable amount of ranjit muse omg