Conall - Ixcuiname humiliation part 2 (8/28-29))

[19:46] A dark skinned Nagual watches on, her glowing amber eyes glistening in the light of the moon. That sharp-toothed grin rests upon her face as her black-dyed clothing clad form hovers in the air. Her staff is held outwards, horizontally before her hips, the head to one side and the sharpened end to the other.

It was quite an interesting fight, that colossal Drakanite battling the deft form of that Dryad. A dance of wind, water, and nature spirits.

Maintaining her vigil, the Shadow continues to watch, listening to their conversation with her pointed, jaguar-ears. Her eyes go to the Dryad's staff. It's like hers, meaning he's much more dangerous prey. Interesting.

She floats down into the arena, ready for 'her turn', her black tail flicking side to side excitedly.
(Ixcuiname)
[19:51] Flowers rise from dirt and dust, and small leafy creatures crawl. Conall grips his staff, letting loose darkness to glide away the senses of the Drakanite. Jagged teeth form a grin as mother nature provides relief, empowering what little magical talent he had. He wasn't strong by himself, not really.

But with his command? Rocks strewrn across the field, mold growing on Mandrakes as they decayed, and spores which filled the air, making it hard to breathe, choking life from the living. Conall was victorious more often then not, but would also have times when he did not use everything. The Daemon was put in it's receptacle, and the Mandrakes not called upon. It was harder then.

But when he did use more?

He was very hardtop fight. He cackled, Mamoru moved back, even if giant.

"Is strong. But Conall is of-"

He coughs. Spit moves past the sick pale lips as he sniffles, annoyed.

"Will be giving of better fight when is over sickness." One other came, and he looked at her.

"Is of Shadow. Back for of challenge?"
(Conall Revels)
[20:00] Keaka would step into the ring, low grumbles leaving the man as he slowly withdrew the bagua dao from its sheath. It was too damned quiet this day, and the best way to make up for that? Sparring, fighting.

Who let's a flame get low, after all?

"... Conall, yes? Let me get a round or two in first before the cat. My leg's hurting, and I need to make sure this damned thing doesn't slow me down."

It seems the molten smith wouldn't take no for an answer, circling about to the wider part of the inner arena. Those ever-burning coals of the mask never left the young dryad, its rage-filled expression ever present.
(Keaka Kamauoha)
[20:01] He grins jagged and vile.

"Khiii. Of seeing KEaka, yes? Was of wanting to spar and testing of strength. Be of showing Conall power, yes? Is not of well, but will be doing of best in spar."

Leaves fall from trees. He looks at Keaka.

"Let be of fun, yes?"
(Conall Revels)
[20:02] Conall Revels says, "Khiiii. Is of needing medicine to be of fighting Keaka."
[20:02] Conall Revels asks, "Bottoms up, yes?"
[20:03] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Peheh, seems so."
[20:06] Conall Revels asks, "Khiiii. Again?"
[20:06] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Peh... Yes, again."
[20:07] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Damned leg is throwing me off."
[20:07] Conall Revels says, "Is of knowing pain. Would be of better without of sickness."
[20:09] Kohei groggily goes about his way.
(Kohei Owari)
[20:13] Conall Revels says, "Khiiii. Is not easy opponent."
[20:14] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Xiuhtec... Neither are you."
[20:14] Keaka Kamauoha says, "It's a damned lot of work to take you down - Think I can manage though."
[20:14] Conall Revels says, "-he cackles- Is thinking Keaka is of legions above Conall strength, yes yes."
[20:15] Conall Revels asks, "Is of one to one. Tie breaker?"
[20:15] Keaka would chuckle before giving a slow nod.
(Keaka Kamauoha)
[20:15] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Mh, one last one."
[20:16] Conall Revels says, "Is of having idea now. Will not be of easy. Will not be of impossible."
[20:20] Conall Revels says, "Khiii. Stronger then of Conall."
[20:20] Conall Revels says, "Will get of better."
[20:21] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Peheh, damned right. I do miss my leg though..."
[20:21] Conall Revels says, "Will be of asking Keaka of favor soon."
[20:21] Keaka Kamauoha asks, "Take it you mean smithing then?"
[20:22] Conall Revels asks, "Mythril armor is still of too heavy. But will be able to fit it soon. Khii. Is of hoping would smith some, yes?"
[20:22] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Peheh, course. I smith for the strong, and my work proves its worth it."
[20:23] Conall Revels says, "Khiii. Would of helping Conall a lot."
[20:23] Conall Revels says, "Now is just needing to get better. -he sniffles-"
[20:23] Keaka Kamauoha says, "Mh, all in time."
[20:26] Keaka would give a low huff, sheathing the bagua dao. Xiuhtec, that was a fight he needed. "I'll leave you to the cat, take my seat in the damned rafters. Not like there's any raids to begin yet..."

A low grumbling left the molten smith as he made his way out of the inner arena, a meaty hand rubbing the back of his head. When wasn't that man grumpy?
(Keaka Kamauoha)
[20:29] Conall Revels asks, "Khiii. Ixcuiname of coming to play too?"
[20:38] The Nagual's shadow, cast by the braziers, wavers as she takes her position opposite the Dryad. Her sharp-toothed grin is leveled at him as scratchy words respond;

"Ehehe… Of course."

That shadow of hers draws in closer, pooling about her feet, before rising like smoke to engulf her form. Her skin is painted charcoal black, while smoky tendrils surround her. Those glowing yellow eyes peer out from her featureless, black shroud, and the clinking of chains herald the appearance of her weapons of choice, falling from her sleeves to billow out to the side of her or wrap around her stave...
(Ixcuiname)
[20:42] Conall leans over. His hand connects with mother earth, feeling her pulsing heartbeat. A cruel, vicious, malevolent smile fills his face as he looks up. Swarm swims, splashing in the air as leaves shimmer into existence.

"Is of sick, or would be of betting. Khiii. But to victor is of getting due. Is of good incentive for Ixcuiname to be of winning."

It cracks, the sound of wood scraping through the dirt. His fanged maw opens and his tongue slathers out. He cackles.

"Shadow be of showing beastmaster of all strength yes? Will be of fun game of cat and mouse.

But this time Conall is of cat."
(Conall Revels)
[20:44] Sigrun crosses her arms and rolls her eyes in response to Zaruel.

"Yeah, so I can act like a dummy for a few. No thanks."
(Sigrun)
[20:46] Zaruel says, "And you roll your eyes a lot, that might get you a disease or some shit."
[20:53] "Khiii. Is getting better."

She was fast. The beam of cosmic power glanced off the bark-like skin of the Dryad. He grunted, weight coming down on him and making it harder to move. Jagged teeth chittered against each other as leafy creatures broke from mother earth, clammering at Ixcuiname's feet. In this arena he could not get away from her attacks.

But she could not either.

Spores invade her nostrils, singing songs of slumber. Flakes of her armor become one with rust and dust. Flowers sprinkle the earth, soon growing out of some of the links in the Nagual's armor as well. A world of darkness took her vision, making avoiding it impossible. But that was not the mistake.

The mistake was when she was surrounded in golden. She had dashed to him, colliding with the Dryad. Flowers had grown in a patch by his ground as she arrived.

"Is of no escape."

A bark-like hand ever so firmly grabbed hold of the Nagual's tail. An illusionary flurry resounds through her head and being. She can not move. She can mot run. The flowers crawl up the armor, latching to her firmly as his hand snakes underneath her neck. His other is placed into the Nagual's hair, stroking velvety locks.

"Khiii. With how got close? Is almost as if Shadow was hoping to get caught. Is Ixcuiname of enjoying warrior's petting that much?" He teased.

She was quick however. If she truly wished to draw away, she no doubt could do so easily.
(Conall Revels)
[21:08] The chain-wielding Nagual greedily charges in, reveling in the last rays of moonlight as the sun rises! Her shadowy tendrils are infused with glittering starlight, deep in their inky depths, while those crackling chains surge whip towards the other!

Her speed is greater, and her form blurred by those wispy shadows that surround her and stain her skin. Truly, she resembles much more of a 'Shadow' then her previous incarnation, Ixchel's dark blessing surrounding her.

Regardless, though she was spirited, her attacks where less restrained, leaving her more open, and that bombardment of spores and corrosive elements weaken her, the spreading of flowers through her making movements more difficult!

Charging towards him, she whips her chains and dark tendrils outwards, leaving her unguarded as the flower patch she stands on assails her! That hand on her excitedly wavering tail gives her pause, a startled cry from her obscured lips, while hair standing upat the firm, unexpected grab! One of her hands turn to grab at that hand behind her, while she squirms in its greedy hold of her short-haired jaguar-tail.

Then, those flowers crawl up her armor, binding her and making movements a little more difficult. It seems that only her legs are covered in plating, oddly enough, the rest of her just veiled in thick, stab-dissuading furs and fabric, under which a Gehennan-styled dress is worn.

A grumpy noise is heard as their battle is so decisively finished, the familiar sensation of somewhat demeaning words and petting being felt. Shadows drift off of her form, pooling by her feet, before extending outwards and ceasing their wavering, while chains of occult and electricity break apart and evaporate. Her magic ceased, while she is grounded, she grudgingly gives in to her petting, fingers running over smooth, dark skin while the other hand caresses black, silky locks.

Her constant grin is more dimmed, into a grumpy frown and begrudgingly such treatment is endured. Her head is unbowed, and she takes his stroking with amber eyes fixated upon his own sickly visage. Scratchy words, slightly grumpily spoken are heard.

"Will allow...Dryad earned..." She informs as she remains standing, leaning inwards, as she doesn't draw away.
(Ixcuiname)
[21:16] She is not a bad fighter, but the attention draining effects of Conall's magics take it's toll as the Daemon swims, bobs, strikes, and Mandrakes make might. Jagged teeth grit, almost expecting to be lashed out upon. However, very quickly within his grasp Ixcuiname's magic would lessen, but it would only be after the shadows vanished from her visage, and her attacks ceased that the flowers leased the metallic plating she wore.

"Should be of wearing more armor if of wearing armor. Wearing of part will be slowing down. But if not of wearing all, will be of taking damage. Is not best way to fight."

His hand strokes, moving from the point at which the tails connects to the Nagual, up to it's tip. He has stopped pulling on it, seemingly only have done that to lure her into the assault. His hand among her hair strokes downwards to the ends, before poking the back of her neck slightly with a cackle.

"Is grumpy. Is good. Should not be of accepting being pet. Conall is not enslaving of other tribe members who are not of making mad. But if were not of Cruxati? Would not want Ixcuiname of accepting. Should of be biting if of enemy."

His hand shierks away from her, but the leaning inwards catches him off guard.

"Or is of enjoying. Conall is confused.

Is of wanting to talk about spirits however. Is wanting Ixcuiname to be telling Conall more of Ixchel."
(Conall Revels)
[21:28] Zhao Zen whispers something.
[21:28] Keaka Kamauoha whispers something.
[21:29] The Shadow listens and watches. The Dryad is obviously an extremely skilled warrior, belying his age, though age means little in Gehenna. As petting is received, so too is knowledge, making this experience much more bearable. She considers his words, still passively squirming a little at the uncomfortable tugging upon that which is sensitive and used for balance.

But that much more invasive stroke from the part where tail meets skin, and down to its dark tip causes eyes to widen momentarily. It feels doubtlessly strange, especially paired with that long stroke down her hair from her fuzzy ears, ending at her neck. Another grumpy huff slips from her at the comfortable, but demeaning ministrations.

At his words, however, her grin returns, sharp teeth and prominent canines showcased. She speaks in a lower tone, eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as they stare into his, her coarse notes allowed to fly freely;

"Will allow Dryad to enjoy... Once Dryad loses, I will take bite and take revenge... Enjoy while you can, Dryad..." She warns, her words bringing that grin back to her face.

The request to speak of Ixchel causes the Nagual to finally draw away from the other, freeing herself from his embrace, though her greaves are still covered in his adornments. Instead of floating, she walks, motioning for Conall to follow.

"Will talk of my Goddess, yes... Sun is too bright, now..."

The rising sun brings lethargy, where the moon brings vigor and strength, indoors being sought...
(Ixcuiname)
[21:29] Zhao Zen whispers something.
[21:29] Keaka Kamauoha whispers something.
[21:30] Zhao squatting down as he would eye the Dryad and motion his hand to he can come up the stairs after the scene below.
(Zhao Zen)
[21:30] Zhao Zen whispers something.
[21:35] He cackles.

"Will be of waiting for day, yes? Will be of hoping that Ixcuiname will be of enjoying bite. Is sure Conall will be tasting of wood and flowers." His own sinister jagged grin sets in as an all too long tongue dragged across bark-like lips.

"Is good. Is not of talking of Ixchel often. Is of wanting to hear more of giver of Shadow's gift. Spirits are always of offering good graces to warriors of proving themselves. Is certain Ixcuiname is of proving self. Conall is of having trouble against her, self. Khiii.

Is sure of others having more difficult time, yes."

She walks and he follow to where she talks.
(Conall Revels)
[21:47] Having... Really little elsewhere to go, since her temple was defiled three times and now is some sort of monument to a Jink, she brings the Dryad into her warm, food-scented house. As she walks, her scratchy voice responds;

"I'm sure I will enjoy bite... Am curious what kind of blood Dryad have... I hear there are people with water as blood..."

Finally, she takes up position before a stone shrine to Ixchel, offerings of food, pelts, and small, ceremonial weapons set around it. Blackened depictions of the Avatar of the Moon are burned upon it. She turns around to face the Dryad, her grin having returned, as she briefly smooths out her cloak, looking down to see those flowers twisted into her armor. She quite obviously considers picking them out, but decides not to, seemingly not minding them, for now.

"Ehehe…

We will see, during the war, could not find agood plaything, had to make due with child of Saekanis. Their fire was not hot enough, and I threw them away...

Will need to find better warrior to fight."

She invites him to sit. with a sweeping hand, setting her staff to the side and falling into her own sit.

"Ixchel is Moon... Passion and freedom... The feeling of blood rushing though veins and the freedom to dance as the moon is high was given back to the Three Warlords, as a reward for their cleverness while hunting my Goddess.

They where cursed by the Silver-Eyed Betrayer, fleshing sloughing off their bones. They where his, but then, Ixchel's shadow graced them, making them anew. Making then Nagual.

Ehehe…"

Her introduction given, she relaxes upon the wooden floor of the disgustingly Valmasian-styled homestead.
(Ixcuiname)
[21:56] "Khiiii?"

She invites him to sit, but that is not what he does. She positioned herself in front of the Shrine to Ixchell, but a wooden bark-like hand moved forwards. If she does not move, it presses her positioned body towards the Valmasian wall as his shard-like teeth flicker in the low light of the cooking pot.

"If Ixcuiname will be of taking bite from Conall when winning, is only of making sense if Conall is of taking bite when winning too yes?"

If she did not move, he would lean forward, tips of the dagger-like teeth placed onto the flesh of her shoulder. If she let it get that far..

The ends of the teeth would gently protrude against the skin, then draw back. "Is kidding of course. Is of taking toll in other ways." Only then would he be taking his seat, sitting at the area reffered to but wooden nails returning to her neck to ever so slightly scratch and pet.

"Was not of able to be finding of good plaything in war either. Was of finding traitor, red haired drakanite. Was of fighting for Gaiar. Mark of a warchief. A mockery of Gehenna. Khiii.

Was coward too. Caught one whiff of Conall being Dryad. Ran with tail tucked between legs."

He is gruff, unrelenting in the demonization of the traitor. He then looked back to Ixcuiname.

"Ixchel is spirit of passion, moon and hunt then? Is of good. Blood rushing, battles, desire. Is all of things Conall is of enjoying, reveling in. Was ofthinking Gehenna sinking, of no battle, no war. Was of getting boring. But is fixing, yes?

Be telling Conall of more."
(Conall Revels)
[22:09] The Nagual watches as that hand pushes her to the wall, her grin remaining on her face. No magic is materialized, her slitted eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly, while that smile remains upon her lips. It almost eggs him on as his words are spoken, a shiver moving down her back unconsciously as those shard-like teeth press against the meat of her shoulder, her thick furs and cloak fallen enough for him to get at it...

She's still, before another shiver runs through her at the teeth drawing back. A hot breath or two is taken to regain her focus, the beginnings of fluster upon her skin at the predatory gesture. It's not usual that such behavior is given to her, now, and it's own sort of indulgence is taken in being the 'prey'. Then, she lowers herself, armored legs splayed out to one side, while amber eyes remain upon his form, grinning faintly, and not fighting against further stroking.

Her skin is soft and warm, the vital beating of her heart felt under the soft, usually protected flesh of her throat. The smooth skin rubbed with those wooden nails, she allows it, her diminuative form within easy arm's reach of the Dryad's ministration. A frown is taken at that mockery showcased by the Drakanite. It only grows as words are told of further insult in shirking away from battle.

It takes a few moments to clear her head, before her coarse voice speaks.

"Ixchel made Nagual her warriors, the first to enter battle to fight Silver-Eyed Betrayer's armies... So many are disgrace to our people. Great Alliance of Gehenna has been too permissive. Grown weak from exposure to enemy. Fixing... Yes, yes...

Ehehe..."

A pause, as amber eyes regard the sickly nature-spirit blessed man slowly.

"Ixchel commands to hunt those that would dare make us kneel. Her passion is ours, her freedom is ours. We direct it, use it to grow, let the hunt consume us, then stab outwards, enact her will and live as she wishes us to.

That is what it means to be Shadow that Dances when the Moon is High...

Cannot read... Or write... Only know Ixchel's truth in heart and in spirit. What is felt in heart is more important, anyway..."
(Ixcuiname)
[22:20] He cackled. There was decent lingering surprise from the Dryad, having expected to be rebuked, but instead she held still. He almost could have claimed that she pulled down the fur to expose her shoulders, her neck. A vile smile sat on his features.

"Khiii. Is almost as if Ixcuiname is wanting to be bitten, to be of giving her blood to Conall. Is that reason not shrieking away? Have not of sipped from other warriors blood. Could have from trophy, but was gift for Chieftain. IS Ixcuiname of offering self in place?"

Once more he moved forwards, teeth drawing closer. But this time, where as the last he had stepped away without making a bit, his tongue all too long slithers out, finding the sweat locked underneath the Nagual's neck. It lingers, tasting her flesh, but he does not bite into it, seemingly continuing to tease. He pushed her against the wall again, and this time he did not step back, lingering on top of her only putting space between thetwo to speak.

The hand which was petting her throat moved down the side of her small form, once more settling at the tail and petting the base of it.

"Is that what Ixcuiname is wanting? Maybe if is of begging." He teased. Then grew serious.

"Is why warriors were made, to be fighting of great many enimies. Slaying of silver ones, spilling of blood to honor spirits. Is way should be. Gehenna is of finding calling in war before becoming of dust. Gehenna is not of being permissive, or of being weak. IS of needing to hear drums of war, yes.

Is good target too. There are very few Gehennans should be kneeling. If of disgrace? Then can be of kneeling, can be of slave. But of warrior? Warrior is not of kneeling. IS of passion, freedom, want and take. Is of claiming challenging blood, hunt. Is seeing Ixcuiname is doing good job in that.

Khii. But is not good of not being able to read or write. Conall is able. Important to be of reading spirit words. Could be of teaching Ixcuiname. If of asking.

Could be of bet. If Ixcuiname of winning fights could be of taking bite and learning."
(Conall Revels)
[22:34] * You have been awarded 1.5 Roleplay Points! *
[22:40] Oncemore, she's permissive to his advances. It's strange, her resistance being assuaged, advances unspurned, and head cocked for him to extract his threatened bit, pre-emptively tensing in the wake of that tease. Is this because he won? Is that why this kind of behavior is allowed?

Her cloak and furs that have fallen a bit, drift further as teeth encroach upon her, slipping down her arms and off of her, pooling at the floor. Now her shoulders are bare, the dark flesh of her arms showcased, along with more of her simple dress, simple patterns running across the rough-texture fabric.

Then comes that odd, wet sensation of her sweat being sampled, running about her warm neck. That fluster remains in the wake of such perverse affection. She's pressed against the wall, her back against it as the Dryad bears down upon her with his teasing movements. With his higher position, she can look down her top, seeing a bit of her slowly heaving chest, accented with demure womanly mounds.

She squirms a little, the predator having ebbed away, replaced by the meeker, more permissive prey-like attitude as fingers move down her side, feeling her figure. This huntress is lithe and lacking in fat, her bones being felt in some places, though she does have some more womanly fat about her chest and hips. Undernourished, perhaps. It's easy for fingers to draw into the hole in her dress where her tail protrudes, stroking at the sensitive pairing of blessing and skin. Her breaths are hotter and slower in the wake of that tease implying her 'begging' and 'wanting'.

Compliant and listening, jaguar-ears listen, while softened, amber eyes watch, a faint grin upon her flustered face. The purpose of Gehenna is received well, her grin deepening as the Nagual squirms a little atop that stroking hand. That bit of flattery about her doing a good job is received with a faint deepening of color in her cheeks.

"Yes... Gehenna must destroy Azrael's thralls. Superior... Culture... Stronger. Gehenna lose sight of war, become weak...

Children of Huitzilopochtli said they would teach... Have not yet... Their 'goodness' blinds them to action. Too much agonizing over these concepts, yes... Need to do not think about worthless things...

Would not mind learning... But what if I lose? Conall will continue to touch?" She asks, her grin remaining, that certain bit of 'cattyness' within it.
(Ixcuiname)
[22:52] "Khiiii."

His tongue lingers through the space between his pale lips, dragging all too much against the base of her neck, moving from collar bone to chin now. His mouth holds, almost flush against her skin in perverse tease. Half-lidded eyes almost close, enjoying the control, the touch. His body remains on top of hers pinning her between himself and the wall yonder.

His hand strokes, moving from tip to base of the tail again, but always lingering near the latter. It is only after enjoying himself for a few moments does he come back into focus, putting space between the two of them. Eyes are aflutter.

"Is of Conall was winner in fight? Is of wanting to know. Ixcuiname is of very welcoming. Is because Ixchel is of passion or other reason? Khiiii. Conall is of wondering many things."

His lips parse from her neck and his gaze remains heavily on the Ixchel worshiper.

"Are many thralls of Azrael. But is not only thing must war. Gehennans are warriors. Must war of everything that is of losing way. Of warring Azrael. Of waring many things.

Khiii. Is of seeing some things from Huitzilopochtli warriors. But are not of drawing as much blood as Conall is wanting. Is wanting blood, flesh, trophies, slaves. Conall is of wanting many many things.

And if Conall is of winning?" He lingered, seeming to think. "Must of be thinking of thing wanted. Or is Ixcuiname of having thing wishing to offer? Conall is of offering teaching.

Can Ixcuiname be of thinking something Conall is wanting?"
(Conall Revels)
[23:06] The duo settle into a bit of a rhythm, her heaving chest casting hot breaths upon the Dryad as she's pressed against him. The tail stroking has her back arched, her form pressed against his as wet lines are traced from collar to chin, her flavor being sampled.

Her own arms... Remain at her side, not fighting him, not fighting him at all. Her chin is tilted upwards and to the side, his wet strokes allowed, shivers moving down her back. The small Nagual listens, and watches with those subdued amber eyes. Her tail swishes slightly as fingers run through its short, soft brush-like hairs.

A warm exhale, almost a huff slips from her as he puts some space between the two, considering his words. A creeping grin appears on her face at the implication of the Huitzilopochtli's weakness, though she makes no comment, simply biting her bottom lip with those pointed teeth of hers. Her body remains arched towards his as he works on her tail. The question is turned upon her, and instead of replying directly, she answers;

"Could offer Conall a few things, yes... Yes...

But what does Conall want? Strong spirit burns through Dryad. Freedom to take what he wants, passion to direct and know what he wants to take... Is good child of the moon..."

That flustered face wearing and permissively-postured woman regards the younger man with a rapt interest, a conspiratorial grin upon her face.
(Ixcuiname)
[23:14] And just like that?

A final "Khiiiii." Moves past his lips. He does not bite, instead drawing back, as if his own tease had ended. His hips rocked against hers as he pulled away from being pressed against her, pale Dryad's form instead slumping his back against the box behind him. He cackled, waving his finger.

"Is seeing to be of enjoying, but Conall is no more playing If Ixcuiname is not begging." He teased. "Though is of wanting to be knowing. Is it just because of winning fight Ixcuiname is letting Conall of doing as wanting? Is is other reasons?"

Jagged teeth form a corrupt smile.

"And no no, is of game. Conall is not of saying what Conall wants. Is of wanting to know what Ixcuiname is of having to offer. Conall is of blessed by many spirits. Is able to take many things of what is wanting. But is not.

All is dust. All becomes dust. Could be of taking things, but in end things done of mattering not. Sometimes, is not of wanting things at all, not of caring.

But often? Is wanting slaves. Is wanting trophies. Is Ixcuiname of having any? Or of having way to be of giving them to Conall? Khiii."
(Conall Revels)
[23:34] Amber eyes widen with surprise as the other draws back, ending his tease and, as reluctant as she is to admit it, leaving her wanting. She settles to face the Dryad oncemore, her hot breathing becoming more regular, that colored, flustered face of hers remaining in the wake of that hip-press. Amber eyes search as slight displeasure slips across her face for a moment, a grumpy sort of deprivation.

Then, he iterates that he wants her to say it, to come out with it and place words to those feelings he coaxed out of her. The armored-legged Nagual now faces the other, studying his relaxed, leaning form.

A little bit of quiet airs between the two as that grumpier look is matched with a corrupt smile. With a tiny groan, she speaks in that same scratchy tone of hers, answering his questions.

"Allowing Dryad to enjoy... Makes my heart race, passion forming... Desire to win against Conall… If I cannot win... Punishment is enjoying as I have to be prey to Dryad, allow him to have his way... Inspire strength... Perhaps steal some of his..."

She answers. Though, in her attempt to force him to talk, she did reveal something he wanted, the smallest of grins appearing upon her face, almost challenging.

"Perhaps will beg, if Conall wins... Since Dryad wants to hear it... What kind of slaves and trophies does Dryad wish for, as well...?"

Hands go to her greaves, slowly and casually unfastening the belts, allowing the playing to fall off, revealing her dark-hued legs, the left marked by a series of old scars -- Large, unevenly spaced bite-marks. Likely from a Demon. She stretches out casually, in only her dress, her movements passively emphasizing her form, while his previous tail-stroking and possible looking down her top may have revealed that there is nothing under said dress...
(Ixcuiname)
[23:45] He cackles cruelly, but does not draw close. The Dryad's half lidded gaze remains on Ixcuiname, studying her breathing, her flustered face. Thoughts unbound come to him, but he voices none of them. He bobbed his head, understanding the Nagual the smallest bit more.

"Khiii. Of making your heart race, of becoming passionate. Is of making Ixchuiname want to win, yet maybe also is of making Ixcuiname wanting to lose? Eager?

Can be of giving Ixcuiname strength. Can be of leading her same way Conall is of leading army and Swarm, of giving Ixcuiname power, training her. Every battle? Nagual of improving. But also must be of being careful."

His index finger is moved forwards, brushing against Ixcuiname's lips.

"Is not of having fear yes? What if Ixcuiname of becoming enjoying too much? IF victory of slipping from her mind so as to be enjoyed as prey? Must be of very careful..

Maybe then of Collar. Conall is of thinking it may of helping Ixcuiname want to win more if risk of having to wear one around neck. Or might Shadow come to be of wanting that Conall wonders.. Khiii."

He boobed his head.

"For of want of slaves? Any kind. Is of liking to do what is wanting. Slaves that can be of for fighting, can be of for tasks, or whatever Conall is also of desiring. Is not having thought for specific right now. Is for future to decide."

Half-lidded eyes look towards the greaves that are unfasted, more then slight interest lingering.

"Are of getting comfortable in house? Would be of making sense to be of relaxing here."
(Conall Revels)
[00:01] The Nagual, now more relaxed, her legs and arms stretched, watches and listens to the Dryad intently. The idea of being made to 'want to lose' causes to her to blink a time or two. It's a thought that most obviously hasn't occurred to her, her amber gaze running over him quickly, before quickly dispelling it. It's pushed out of her mind, and instead, she enjoys the promises of giving strength. Then comes that warning again, her words unvoiced once fingers press to her lips.

They're soft, smooth, with a tiny touch of roughness. As the other's finger graces it, her lips permissively open, ajar slightly, allowing entrance into her mouth, should he wish to explore it.

Then comes the idea of wearing a collar, grumpiness apparent within her face at the idea of the 'slavish' adornment bestowed upon her for losing. Her words come out challenging, coarse notes slipping from her.

"Dryad wishes to lock collar upon Nagual? Perhaps Dryad also wishes for her to lay at his feet during rest... Drink milk from a bowl?"

Her words aired, that second question offered to her elicits a bit of quietness, before answering simply, the flustered woman not as worked up over that inappropriate suggestion.

"Sun is warm... Makes me tired."
(Ixcuiname)
[00:09] She blinks, but does not respond to his words of wanting to lose. He quiets for once. Instead, the fleshy end of his index finger briskly rubs the Nagual's lips. He does not seem to notice the slight opening of them, until the tip of his finger touches towards her tongue. The singular finger hangs within her mouth, lingering until she does speak.

"Is not of wishing to lock up tribe member. Is of important to make sure she is not of losing. If rage and fear of collar is of good reason to not lose? Will give it.

Is decided then. If Ixcuiname is of losing to Conall five times in a row, Dryad will be of giving Shadow collar. Has lost twice. Will not be losing of five times. Will not be letting of fellow warrior becoming complacent.

Ixcuiname may be of naming anything she wishes to be punishment to Conall in turn, if of losing five times in row. Conall will not be of losing that much. Neither will be."

He bobbed his head. And then.

"Is of making sense. Is Nagual. Moon is place for kind to hunt and fight, not under burning stars. Would be of being good for Ixcuiname to be of making battles in the night like Conall."
(Conall Revels)
[00:20] She doesn't bite as that finger enters her mouth, permissively allowing it to stroke her tongue, and get path her teeth. His reasoning is sound, once his response to her botheredness at such an outcome is voiced. A hand raises, unconsciously rubbing at her neck as her fluster gently begins to fade, a grumpy groan slipping from her lips at that promise.

"Fine... Will not lose five times or Dryad may put mark of ownership on Shadow..."

A tiny bit of bitterness rests upon her face as the Nagual nods slowly at the Dryad, once the conversation is changed. Her scratchy voice is aired as the Nagual's lithe form climbs to her feet, stretching oncemore, now that she's upon her legs. Smaller then Conall, she walks around the room idly, not seeming to mind his presence within her house.

"If I lay under the sun... Fall asleep sometimes... It's better to hunt at night, better vision... Would be willing to hunt with Dryad sometime, as well..."
(Ixcuiname)
[00:25] "Good. Will not be taking it of easy in our fights. But will also be of making sure that Shadow is growing stronger. Was almost of winning in last bout. Just need little more training."

He bobs his head, hands falling slack at his side. He blinks, watching the Nagual rise up in slight confusion, trailing after her with his eyes. At first he seemed to watch her go near the door, but it seemed she was not directing him to it.

"Could be of nice. Is wanting of more hunting partners. Gehenna is strong and of warriors. Should be of raiding places, of taking slaves, of obtaining sacrifices for spirits. If is of getting enough to wanting to hunt? Maybe of hunting in biggest cities.

Could be of exicting. Khiiiiiii.

Sun is nice and bad to Conall. Is fine to sit in, obtain light, but is more preferring of dark. Is why Conall's powers are more of indirect. Like night."
(Conall Revels)
[00:33] The small-statured Nagual mills about, seemingly checking stocks of herbs and spices that rest around her house. Her dark-furred tail swishes and sways behind her, as that thin, rough-textured dress of hers veils her form. Her fluster appears to have died down some, and instead, it seems like she's being kind of a busy-body, milling about casually. Amber eyes occasionally glance to the Dryad curiously, milling over what he's said to her.

All sort of things. The insinuation of Huitzilopochtli's weakness. The desire to help her learn. Even the rather mean question of if she might enjoy being made prey.

It all floats about her, considered earnestly, the admittedly rather uncomplex, jaguar-featured girl passively wandering as thoughts float about her.

"Training is good, yes... Needs to be done constantly... Hone skills and compare to fellow warriors...

Hunting is important too... Training can only teach so much..."

That bit of information about his powers is heard, a deep, sharp-toothed grin offered towards him. A prideful look, as she turns to stride up to the sitting figure. She leans in towards him with that smirk worn openly.

"Good child of moon... Should have been born Nagual, like me..."
(Ixcuiname)
[00:40] The Dryad stands, moving a hand to his mouth. He coughs, the sickness having not fully left him yet. He tiredly wipes his eyes, then bobs his head. A cruel vile smile is set onto his lips.

"Is very true. Is needing to be of training and of hunting. Best things are of learned by combat, learned by battle. Will be of honing skills and comparing in days to come. But will be of best only when is no longer sick.

Then will be much stronger then is of now. Khiiiii." He almost pouted. Almost. But at her grin and comment, he shakes his head.

"Is not one of reciving Ixchel's blessing. Can be seeing of why. Is weak, is fragile. Is not sure if blessing of panther would be of helping Conall. Magic is not of his strong suit. Khiii.

Strong power is of commanding, of control. Is gift of Conall."

His hand moves, placed onto the waist of the Nagual when she came to him.

"Maybe will be of commanding Ixcuiname some day. In raid or otherwise. Khiii." He fully gets his balance.

"But of now?

Conall will be of going. Will be needing of hunting soon. Unless Ixcuiname is wanting Conall's company of longer? Or maybe is of wanting to beg now?~"
(Conall Revels)
[00:57] Her pacing finished, and his words heard, she considers them, her passive grin remaining upon her face. While standing before him, a downwards glance finds that hand on her waist. The smaller woman looks up at the Dryad, her tail flicking left and right in an uneven rhythm. A momentary grumpiness appears upon her face at notion of that 'command', the sense that he is referring to doing so while wearing a collar, rather then as a Chieftain.

"Will acknowledge Dryad blessing of communion is strong... Nagual blessing is pure, warriors, quick, graceful, while Quetzalcoatl is strong, powerful. Gehenna is land of potent blessings."

The comes his question. A bit of grumpiness appears upon her face, nearly a pout... Before an almost irritated breath is taken. She walks over to the door suddenly, the Nagual striding up to it... But she doesn't open it to let him go... Hesitating, before finally doing so.

"Should meet with chieftain... Do errands... Can't rest yet... Maybe will beg next time."

The lithe form wanders over to grasp her outfit, slowly putting it back on, graves fastened, and cloak pulled back upon her small body...
(Ixcuiname)
[01:02] "Is Conall's strong suit. Body is of weak. And Conall is not of that strong by himself. Is not really of able to fight at all without blessings and Daemons. Is not of knowing many ways of hurting others.

But warriors blessing is of suiting Ixcuiname. And Serpent's blessing is of suiting others. Many suited for their blessings." He cackles, but watches her. She moved to the door but she seemed to freeze. His gaze lingered in confusion.

"Is of wanting Conall to stay-"

He started, only to watch the door be opened. He nodded. "Is right. Conall should also be of meeting with chieftain after hunt. Is not good time for rest." But the mentioning of the begging is brought up, causing for the vile cruel grin.

"Will be of waiting to hear shadow of begging. Was of good talk."
(Conall Revels)
[01:05] The Nagual, reclothing herself as the other speaks, turns to wander out the door, making no mentions of that begging as her thoughts move away from feelings and to work! She moves to stride to the door...
(Ixcuiname)
[01:07] Mischieviously the Dryad follows. The moment before Ixcuiname is reclothed he comes up behind her, pressing body flush up against her to tease. But after one moment he pulls away, heading towards the door.

"Byeeeeeeeee."
(Conall Revels)
[01:09] The dark-hued Nagual gasps softly at that unexpected pressure on her back, her little form pressed against him for a few moments, squishing her bust against the wall. As she moves after him, her face is pretty reddened by the sudden gesture, breathing hotter and slower as she, now, tries to escape quietly, biting her lip.
(Ixcuiname)