Training We mean it, but I promise we're not mean
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#1
MELITA
She spent the first layers of fall stoking the finery of her precision, lacquering her steps in a careful toe-heel step, quiet and dulcet, hushed and vacant, as if she were never there, a wisp of smoke, the curl of a leaf, down into the press of shadows. Perhaps this was one of her more difficult tasks, because she preferred everything down loudly, with feeling, with fervency, with the right amount of ruckus and havoc, upheaval in the finest of moments. But the youth inhaled sharply, taut and rigid, could feel the gentle slide of her bones and limbs across the gravel roads and the darkened ground. She slid her staff carefully, despite its crack and bruised contortions, over the top of her head, attempting a soundless, muted motion, pretending the enemy was crouched in front of her, unaware of her presence. Then, on a restless endeavor, she leapt, crashing back into the ground as she drove her staff downward, as if to bombard her adversary’s skull with a barrage of pain.

Then she stepped back, flickering her gaze to her companion, waiting in the wings. “What do you think? I thought that exceeded last time.”

The vampire gourd gave as best a shrug he could entail, with no shoulders or limbs to speak of. The youth tilted her mouth into a slight frown, crossing her arms, staff sticking out of their formation. “Could you do any better?” The youth arched her brow, watched as the pumpkin narrowed his eerie eyes into an indifferent expression. Apparently, he could, though Fangorn’s experiences before meeting the honeybee youth had been one of complete, utter survival, not unlike herself, except his had been about hiding, not casting themselves out into the world with disastrous grins and chasing down monsters.

But she took his hint - again - taking a different path, intertwining the staff as an extension of her arm, and whipping it out to the side as fast as she could; then, like Wessex had shown her, in a circle, rotating it from hand to hand, not as quickly, but perhaps much more efficiently than her last practice.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#2
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
There isn’t much on the Harpy’s mind, other than training. And she hasn’t particularly come prepared aside from a dull blade, aiming to use the Underground and it’s strange statues as a means of target practice without destroying too much more of the Ruin’s than what was already destroyed. She doesn’t know what she’s searching for, but she knows she’ll find the spot when she sees it. What she doesn’t expect is to find a familiar face among the Underground, chatting with something (a companion perhaps?) and thwacking a staff around in the air.

She knows Melita doesn’t care for her despite her apologies, but if Melita plans to train, Kiada decides perhaps it’s as good a time as any to have her ass handed to her. And if it makes the both of them feel better, she’s willing to give it a try. Approaching on light feet, she palms the blade in her hand, her icy gaze on the fiery haired girl. “Training for the event?” She calls out, as to not startle her. “Do you want a partner?” She asks, aimlessly into the air, half expecting her to say no.

She couldn’t blame Melita for it.

But at the same time, perhaps now is as good a time as any to get both their problems out in the open, to face them head on and train with one another. She hasn’t trained in a long time, and she’s certain Melita would likely get a few good hits in – and well, Kiada wouldn’t argue against whether she deserved them or not.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#3
MELITA
There was hardly a warning except for a soft footfall in the false evening, in the chambers of enigmas and quandaries – her head whipped around, crimson locks flying in the darkness, but the last person she expected to materialize out of the shadows was Kiada. Fangorn managed a hiss, then a growl, while Melita’s features clenched, the fire biting behind her gilded gaze. Her stare lingered on her blade, on all the things they’d last spoken to one another (she the most; all the vitriol and hatred, smothered and exhausted, but the ashes and remnants still there, vibrant again on her tongue). She lowered her staff, obvious in her intent not to harm, but the maiming intrigue was there all the same, words and words, phrases jumbled together, yearning to hurt her the way her actions had mauled Melita’s family, the way they’d been torn apart and never stitched back together. To the end, she knew it wasn’t all entirely the Harpy’s fault, but to some measures she didn’t care either, because Kiada lent herself to be a target of her anger, of her contempt, of all the loathing stored below the goodness, the ebullience, the determination. Her face was something belonging to fury and injustice, a vengeful line from her brow down to her nose, across the drawn line of her mouth, kindled, incensed, waiting for irreverence. Just the mere notion of coming together simply to knock one’s teeth out gave her some semblance of glory and triumph.

“Yes,” she answered to both questions, backing off, eyeing her cracked, splintering staff. She should’ve brought something else down, but it’d been comfortable and familiar in her hands, nothing she had to think about; an extension of her arm, pretending it was like a blade, like a cutlass, like a knife. “Weapons or fists?” She declared, her upraised, defiant chin an obvious motion that she had no preference, could adhere to either with ready, fervent aplomb.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#4
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
Kiada isn’t naïve enough to think that Melita would deny the chance to draw blood – in fact, Kiada welcomes it. It’s been so long since she’s trained, and if there’s one person in this world that wants to see her pay for her past mistakes, the fiery girl before her is the one. She hears the hiss from the Gourd companion, and she disregards it. She deserves it, after all. The Harpy believes she deserves whatever is coming for her, whether it be weapons or firsts, as Melita suggests. Kiada approaches quietly on soft feet, her blade drifting from her hand to clatter along the stone floor, and she removes her outer jacket for more movement before she responds to the other girl.

Start with weapons, work to disarm, then fists?” She suggests, discarding the jacket and turning her icy gaze toward Melita with a small half smile before stepping toward the statues and finding a lone piece of wood that’s reminiscent to the staff in Melita’s hands. She’d rather not bring a blade to the staff, though it would make for a good training session. She’d rather Melita draw the blood in this round, chances are it would make the both of them feel better.

When she’s grabbed the small makeshift staff, she returns toward the circle of Melita, rolling the piece of wood around in her hands to loosen her wrists before taking up a stance. “Do your worst, Melita.” She says, smile fading away as she accepts the beating that’s certain to come her way. She doesn’t know how to fight anyone with a rage like this, it’s been a long time since she’d sparred anyone, and so the unpredictability will be a great lesson. Kiada doesn't expect to leave without blood staining her pale skin.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#5
MELITA
She should’ve been better. She should’ve had more control over her anger, over the contempt, over the mercurial loathing piercing her veins. But she didn’t. The honeybee youth, once so golden and halcyon and still vividly wild, coiled into those manifestations of rage and infernos. She allowed them to consume her. She permitted them to fester, wither, and decay. She offered her venom, her vitriol, to her muscles and limbs, to the pulsing wrath curling its way over her mind – red and red, blood and blood, ichor and ichor, a rampant force clinging to her heart.

All Kiada received was a head nod in confirmation before the girl came at her.

Do your worst.

Oh, she would.

It might’ve been chilling, to witness the impact abhorrence had on the girl: with her sunny smiles, with her warm, radiant disposition. It was gone now, the flames fanned, a quick, swift pace, her staff extended out of her right hand, remembering precision, remembering poise, remembering the hundreds of directions Wessex had divulged, had invested in her training. This was not life or death – but the result of so much hostility, acrimony, and revulsion anchored to her soul, the murky waters of a world long since gone (but not in her head). She grounded herself as she moved, like a snake, like an asp, charging, swinging her staff upwards, intending to crack it down over Kiada’s hands, make her drop the weapon, make her cry, make her bleed, make her sob.

Pain for pain, her mind echoed and chiseled. It was a sense of justice, an outcry of revenge, a pervading storm nestled in her roots and her nightmares; tempestuous and awful, a terrible, treacherous little thing in the dark. She wanted to ask Kiada about her regrets again, if she’d turned over a new leaf, or if she conspired to have some new paragon, some new falsehood, some new, stupefied, greedy saint put upon a pedestal, avaricious hands clawing for foretold masters, begging and pleading for the world to die and fizzle and decay again.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#6
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
All she receives in response is a sharp head nod, and while Kiada believes she’s prepared, she’s not for the untamed fury that immediately ascends onto her. Melita is graceful, where Kiada fumbles, and she silently curses herself for such a thing. She grits her teeth, gripping onto the wood and preparing for what kind of attack Melita chooses, suddenly watching the staff extend out of her right hand. Kiada, in turn, tries to avoid it by stepping and swinging her left leg back – but before she has a chance to move her hand in response, she feels the sharp crack of the staff against her knuckle, the joint already turning bright red and sore.

Kiada swears quietly under her breath, but she maintains control enough to hold onto the wood still and use the momentum from trying to avoid the attack, to swing and plant her leg toward Melita – aiming the side of the wood to hit Melita’s right side if it’s left open, before she tries to retreat out of Melita’s reach. Her hand throbs with the movement, and she curses under her breath further as her heartbeat races, pulsing through her hand. She accepts the pain, however, finding it a better feeling than the nothingness she’d felt for the last few weeks.

It’s benefitting, for the both of them. Where Melita thinks she’s punishing Kiada for the wrongdoings of her past, she knows she’s already atoned for them. Why else would she have suffered such a terrible, long, horrible life? If it makes the fiery girl feel better, Kiada is happy for it. And she’s happy to feel the frustration and wildness pulsate in the air around them. Somehow, somewhere, that cracked piece of her fills with something other than a cold, dark wind.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#7
MELITA
In the end, Melita knew her rage, her actions, her abhorrence wouldn’t bring them back.

But it made her feel alive too – the reach of ferocity pulsing, an unrelenting wave over her presence, cloaking and garbing with daggers, with sedition, with cruel, toxic endeavors, whistling and whirring against her mind. It was beatific and wondrous, to have the sensation of contempt and loathing back into her core again, to have something worth fighting for, even if they were just memories, even if they were just canvases, even if they weren’t ever returning –

It felt right. It felt just. It felt satisfying.

She permitted the vitriol to slink into her senses, to override anything else that might have mattered. Consumed and devoured by her own wrath, the girl snickered, smirked, as the crack of her staff clambered across Kiada’s knuckles. More, she almost crooned, once a fighter of monsters, once a barrage against demons. She didn’t know what she was now – vengeful, unforgiving, vindictive?

Kiada’s attack followed through though – she would never expect the girl who favored a duplicitous god to lie down and take every attack – her weapon landing on Melita’s right calf with an aching pulse sure to be a deep bruise, even as she attempted to sidestep, even as she strived to utilize her speed. Fine, she whispered into the dark. Intending to face her opponent, Melita rotated the staff in her hands, revolved it so it landed in her opposite palm, before raising it downward on a swift, quick swing, yearning to build momentum for the climb up, hoping to land somewhere along the girl’s right shoulder. It was an exchange of aches and pains, a brutal layer tossed into the entanglement of barbarity, the outrage in her heart, the violence in her lungs, the savagery, vehemence in her ether, in her essence – daughter of the sand, of the sun, of the dunes, of the draconic.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#8
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
Kiada knows deep down that the fight between Melita and her can’t fix the wrongs the Harpy has done in the past, but perhaps it can quell some of the fury beneath the red haired girl’s skin. They were, after all, creatures born of the same land; born and have lived through the hardest times anyone could know. If anyone knew what it was like, it was the both of them. And to rage and pit themselves against one another in a new world, a new life, seemed exactly the opposite of what Kiada would like.

She only wants someone else to understand, to feel the anger and grief and fury of what happened to them, regardless of who helped in the matters or not.

There isn’t even a sense of pride as the attack follows through, no smile sets on her features, no smirk or fiery vengeance. Only a concentrated, bright gaze that lingers on the girl. She slips back, watching and keeping her stance light as Melita takes her staff and revolves it, raising it toward her and swinging it up. Though while it doesn’t connect with Kiada’s shoulder – a sidestep and turn helped with that – it does manage to knock the piece of wood from her hands with a vibrating thwack that leaves her fingers ringing and singing with an uncomfortable pain.

She grits her teeth now, the wood lost to her hands as she turns back toward Melita and (without a weapon in hand) balls her hands into fists and hopes the girl might focus on those as Kiada steps toward her left as though she’s aiming to rush the fiery haired child, before she ducks and aims a leg sweep to try and knock Melita back, and with it hopefully the staff as well.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#9
MELITA
Perhaps the most disappointing part of all was that deep down Melita knew her actions were just a direct result of rage, of sadness, of bitter, rancorous plots and schemes. Nothing would come of them – maybe some satisfaction in causing Kiada pain too, but the girl had already experienced those things first hand. Melita was too far gone now though, deep in the trenches of her grief, her fear, her abhorrence, an intolerance for the way things had been destroyed and altered, the way her family had been ripped apart, the way Kiada’s hands had been amidst with Kisamoa’s and Kao’s and the blackened, Stygian outcries all laden in between, rotten and decrepit. She could still remember the smoke and fumes. The rush of the portal. The lack of light. The shadows crawling. The unknown spiraling and spiraling and spiraling around them – nowhere to go but into bedlam and menace.

And now here she was, a direct result of a life torn into bedlam.

She was a tempest, she was a throng, she was a storm rising from sands and salt, irritated in Kiada’s sidesteps, wanting to beat and beat and beat.

Then the staff fell, and a glorious little smirk traversed its way across her mouth. If she were any more confident and proud, she would’ve whooped for joy, would’ve carved out the underground with her insidious delight. But she didn’t have time.

Her eyes caught the balled fists, the change from weaponry to a more human element, and shifted to the right, thinking they were being wound to knock into her, to drive into her flesh and bruise, notch another blemish into skin and bone. It was very clever of Kiada to then utilize her legs, sweeping across Melita’s, and the girl should’ve known, should’ve realized, because she’d been played this way with Roana, but didn’t recognize the signs until it was too late –

Hitting the ground with a hiss, a gasp, an ache in her hip.

But lord, she wasn’t done yet – feral and untamed, savage and brutal, the staff still in her hand, she snarled and sought to unleash upwards again, from the floor, striving to swing the weapon against or into Kiada’s knees, wanting to hear the simmer of anguish and pain in the hollowed chambers.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#10
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
Their session is little more than untamed fury and battle under the guise of “training”, as Kiada faces Melita once again. They both had so many strengths, and for a moment Kiada wishes they could put the past aside (gods knew she already has) and work together. The company of another that had lived through Helovia would be nice about now, not the strange half life that Deimos had lived through it. But she realizes that Melita perhaps would never get over it, and could she truly blame the girl for it?

She couldn’t. And so she doesn’t. She simply works up her attack, weaponless aside from her brain and her fists, and she sweeps her legs out toward Melita in the attempt to bring her down. Just as Kiada had anticipated, her leg collides with Melita’s and sends the fiery girl down – but it doesn’t drop the staff from the girl’s hands. And she wonders if perhaps the only way Melita could ever be disarmed is if she were to die. They’d have to pry it from her fists.

The Harpy, too, hisses as she realizes Melita hasn’t dropped the staff, but before she could make any attempt to try and disarm her further, as she clamors toward the girl, she lifts the staff upward. And while Melita aims for her knees in the attempt, the way that Kiada is standing causes the edge of it to thwack into her stomach and chest on the way up. It knocks the air out of her lungs with a wheeze, and she staggers to the side.

She wishes to reach toward Melita, to steal that stupid staff out of her hands, but as she turns to try and grab onto it, she’s still trying to gasp for breath. It comes off far more awkward, as the girl stumbles toward the other girl, unable to catch her balance just yet. She aims to grab onto the staff as she tries to plant her feet to keep her steady, her stomach and chest already sore and aching.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#11
MELITA
Does someone ever get over the deaths of their family? Does someone ever truly move on from those horrible, tragic events, the stories that predetermined them, or the ones that came after? Did time heal all wounds? Or was Melita simply too bitter, too ensconced, too rattled and chained by her past to every let it truly go?

She had her rage now – it smoked and fumed, piled on top of any other collective thoughts, nothing but a storm, an inferno, ready to launch, ready to howl, ready to roar at the slightest provocation. She couldn’t let go of her hate. She couldn’t let go of her contempt. What would she be without it? Some lost little girl, striving to become something with no one to defend? With no one to blame?

There was some small satisfaction in watching her staff collide into Kiada’s stomach and chest, listening to the wheezing sounds filling the underground echoes, a staggering, a sliding of limbs. Melita probably took too long in reveling in it – before she realized it, the Harpy stood above her again, striving to ground herself while she pulled against the honeybee youth’s staff.

She growled, a menacing little thing in the torturous angles of the darkness; attempting to use all the weight she had in her current stance, arms raised in defense of her weapon, unwilling to let it go. Her strength persisted, but her muscles wanted to resist, wanted to scream out into the false evening, tired, fatigued, wrestling with similar statures and sizes; and then she maneuvered her legs, attempting to kick out, distract, hoping to angle them in some way that Kiada would be maimed or diverted, granting her an opportunity to get up, and strike again.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#12
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
Her body aches with each clench of a muscle as she grapples for the staff, but she doesn’t take into account how strong Melita is. It’s like a childish game of tug of war, despite Melita remaining on the floor. She grits her teeth, grinding them against one another as she pulls more, trying to figure out when she should give in and give up. She doesn’t get much chance to decide, as the reminiscent smack of the staff along her stomach and chest begin to welt, her grip loosens slightly on the staff as Melita’s legs swing out and catch her by the ankle, and the Harpy falls back and away from the honeycomb child.

She tries to hold onto the staff again as she does, but she’s unsuccessful, feeling it slip from her fingers as she falls. But she knows she’s left wide open as her back hits the ground with a hard thud, and her hands splay out at her sides. Her right hand lands on something though, and she grabs it (finding it out to be her discarded staff). She grabs it for dear life, preparing to use it for some kind of defense, wondering if Melita would be finished now or if they’d be even.

Though she knows they could never truly be even, they could at least be tolerable of one another. She hopes deep down that one day perhaps the two of them could be – with more time and masks of the pain pushed away. Perhaps if Melita sees how hard she’s working here to avoid the same mistakes, she might think differently of the Harpy, 'Protector'.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#13
MELITA
It was all childish: tempestuous storms built up behind her brows, a mercurial, cantankerous edge glorified into her rage, her redemption, her wrath, her fire and venom. It even feels victorious as Kiada tugged and strived to rid Melita of her staff, and it doesn’t go, it doesn’t break, it stays within her hands even though she was crashed into the floor, even though all she’d done was growl into the darkness, even though she was becoming a bitter, rancorous little heathen. She couldn’t even help the undignified smirk crossing along her lips, watching even as the Harpy grabbed hold of her staff again, found it in the shadows, just how she’d always seemed to live. It didn’t surprise Melita at all: it was how Kiada orchestrated plans and deceits, how she followed the reign of Kisamoa and his sickening assurances, her ghastly pledges, their quest, their search, for power and prowess over the agonizing, anguished people.

She wanted to bring her staff down along the girl’s skull just to hear the satisfying sound. Just to feel the weight of it. Just to watch the world burn in her sights. Just so she could say that vengeance had been hers, for those scarce, few seconds.

She didn’t think about how her mother would’ve been disappointed in her triumphant, agonizing haze. She didn’t think about her sister would’ve shaken her head, begged, and pleaded for her to stop.

Her gilded gaze watched as Kiada lay nearby, splayed out. She could finish her right then and there. It would be a beautiful moment. She’d remember it for the rest of her life.

Fangorn hissed and something in her snapped. She rolled off onto her side, hissed at the feral pain, the court of exhaustion, the weight of fatigue suddenly settling into her limbs. Only when she rose from the ground, striving not to show, not for her enemy to see how the brutality scarred her, how the tangents had blistered upon her too. Instead, the youth wiped her sleeve against her face, beat away the salt, the sweat, clinging to her brow, and growled. “Have you had enough?”
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#14
KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
All Kiada can do is pant and try to catch her breath, sprawled out with her awkward staff in her hand. And she wonders if Melita would just hit her more or actually try to kill her here. It seems as though she doesn’t have to worry about it for too much longer, as she goes to rise as well, shortly after Melita does, sweat beading down her brow as she uses the staff to stand and focus on Melita. Kiada can tell she’s trying not to show anything to her, and Kiada’s brows are still furrowed, edging closer once again when she growls to her as if she’s had enough.

And for a moment, Kiada thinks of just leaving her here, to mull over what happened, but no. It would just be the same thing over and over again, and Kiada’s too tired and exhausted of past mistakes haunting her when there’s bigger problems at hand. She drops the staff she’s been holding at Melita’s feet, her eyes icy yet soft as the bruises begin to grow around her arms and legs. “I’m not your enemy Melita.” She begins, eyes sharp.

Do whatever you want to me, I understand. But I am sorry for it all, and I will be for the rest of my life, but the past is in the past and we can’t change that.” She begins, shifting on her feet as her hands lay limply at her sides. “I’m trying to be better, to do better, and I have. There is no other way for me to atone.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3


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