The Homecoming Queen

[Kunkka]

Something was coming in hot. The sky had been cloudy; heavily overcast as these were the rainy seasons for the plains. Not very many intelligent eyes wandered this particular section of lush green lands unhindered by war and population for eons. They would not see a hole punched through the cloud cover with loud, natural blue atmosphere screaming behind it and bathing a huge patch of the land in an ethereal and sharp swathe of sunlight. The beauty of the split cloud’s effect was marred by the super heated object responsible for the assault; the sphere hitting the moist, bright green grass and rich soil below with enough force to send a tidal wave of it into the air. And then it skipped like a pebble over water for nearly an entire mile before coming to a smoldering halt— still glowing like a visitor from the flames of hell.

At rest it smoked; the unearthly alloy it was constructed from quickly cooling and contracting slightly with a hiss. It was neither mineral nor biological; certainly not from anywhere native to Sanctum. And then? It collapsed. For a moment it seemed to bulge; misshapen and swollen and soon flattening as if something invisible bore down on it with unimaginable weight. The unsettling morphoses abruptly became even more strange as it split into sharp collection of chitinous, tear dropped shaped extensions which folded back onto themselves and absorbed into the form of...a woman?

Kunkka was breathing heavily; the segments of her jaw split open in a rare display of aggression and exertion; not unlike something reptilian or perhaps a lamprey. Most did not understand the subtle slits creeping from the corners of her mouth and nearly to the underside of her earlobes. They’d know if they’d seen her now in all her glory as the vehicle she’d landed in appeared to be part of her body or armor— what little remained of the segments were sinking both into her bare skin and torn up, sleeveless Gudrun Gut suit as well. Must have been newer technology from her people.

Would any here recognize her, now? It had been so long. She more resembled her sister, Scilla than who she had been before. Now standing at 5’9 with a long rush of dark hair with a violet sheen and a nearly spine like texture tickling the backs of her knees; bright orange and glowing eyes promising a familiar instability and violence cutting through the low, storm light of the plains. Years ago she’d been held captive by Celesin and then freed only be caged in another manner— forced into the Mother’s most illustrious military of all Qalla and her many tribes; the Gudrun Gut. She’d excelled quickly, her own experience and shocking ease of training taking her far up the ranks and quickly with tutelage of Kneivil’s hand. Eleven years had passed for her until she defected and stole her mentor’s highly prized and specialized weapon. Only three would have gone by for the natives. And now, she was back. Where else could she go that was truly neutral? Far from her would be overseers?

Kunkka had finally and truly betrayed her Mother for the final time. She’d done the unthinkable...and it was electrifying.

At first and holding nothing at all in either hand, or, it wasnt obvious whether she was armed. But her walk from her landing site started off as a limp, became a lope of ease and surprising grace and then became a full blown run.

[Xillaen'kudure]

A month ago, he’d been given the appellation ‘rehabilitated’. Three weeks ago, he’d been given an ‘assignment’. Two weeks ago, a massive ship had dropped him on the planet with ‘orders’ and a device that would connect him with his ‘handler’. He had taken in his surroundings, had acclimated himself with them. With the prey, for he never could think of them as anything else after long years in the jungle, in the area. And then boredom had set in. His reversion had been quick. On the outside, he looked like the loyal, obedient Qalla. His tech, anyway. But inside, there was just an apex predator. A primal mix of the training he had received from the mother race versus the instincts of the father race. He was the deadliest hunter on this world, and not because his claws were poison. In fact, he even wore a second set of claws that were far from natural. Metal, matte black, and as keen as razors, the claws were seemingly fitted into a band across the back of his hands, just behind the knuckles. He had stalked the plains for two weeks, mastering them, establishing his dominance amongst the lesser species. And then it happened. Then everything changed.

Xillaen’kudure had always been an odd ball type, with his unnatural parentage and his unusual feeding habits. However he had been far more stable than his female counterpart. Anomalous as they were, Xillae had always gravitated toward Kunkka, mostly because she was the only one who, if she could part the curtain of her psychosis, could see what it what it was like to be him. And what he did when the object parted the cloud cover that was his shield, well, Kunkka would have been proud. He screamed in outrage. The shriek of the object enter the atmosphere had spooked his prey and it had bolted. Now he was hungry and enraged. He faced the direction of the object’s landing, standing as tall as any female without her spurs extended, he flexed his fingers. It had to be a spacecraft of some kind, and the occupants, if there were more than one, were about to settle his rage. He broke into an animal’s lope, using the tall grasses to disguise his approach. He crossed the mile in an astonishing amount of time, and was witness to the collapse of the object into the form of a female.

Now, it’s important to understand that he held most females in low regard, mostly because they were the rulers of the regime that had abandoned him to go feral on a backwater death world, and then had tried to tame him again. Forcefully. And so when he saw one absorb the craft, he saw red. His black eyes glowed furiously, and he began to stalk his new prey like any true predator. He ran alongside, easily matching the female’s speed. Then he threw his voice, impossible as that might sound, to her other side, the call of an awakening predator, disturbed by her passing. Hopefully it would cause her to look aside, at which point he would break into a full sprint on all fours, dash at her and attempt to pounce, leaping at her back with the intention of wrapping arms and legs around her, his wrists curling to slide his false claws between her ribs on both sides, probably rupturing her lungs and forcing her to drown in her own blood.

[Kunkka]

She could have easily outrun a male. With her specialized training, stronger bones and and the far deadlier strength in her muscles simply by birthright; even while smaller than Xillae. The dyadic qualities of her kind, even amongst the anomalies like herself and the man chasing her were completely idiosyncratic to those of humanity. They were not egalitarian but fully militarized and wholly matriarchal in a nearly primordial manner that would give the men of this particular world nightmares of emasculation.

But she heard the footfalls— seconds on the surface and someone was already coming for her. She remembered this theme well; always having to watch out of the corner of her eye for knives coming for her back, ego goried challengers seeking a pound of flesh, head hunters and those who just had an insatiable lust for violence and knew a good time when they saw one. Never a dull moment on the Sanctum.

So the familiar soul behind her while unrecognized wouldnt get an ounce of reservation. Her defense would not be lethal, but it was meant to get them far away from her area of defense and put her back in the dominant position. This wasnt the Kunkka of old who operated on pure instinct; now she was highly trained and cold blooded; her body suddenly canting across his path in a single roll; taking her to his other side as he veered toward her former path. She intended to catch him as he intended to right himself with unmitigated speed. She only used kirin-COMM thankfully; sending a kinetic shockwave toward him that would lift him from his feet, buckle his knees and send him nearly ninety feet away from her. Likely in conjuction with a horrible wave of nausea as the distortion waves passed through his frame as much as they did against it.

Part of the attack wasn’t simply force as defense but also putting the victim at a physiological disadvantage. If there was anything in Xillae’s stomach it may very well leave it with enthusiasm.

Kunkka had half of the infamous Dia-haur rod in her hand; formerly of the Gudrun Gut general’s possession and the most powerful weapon wielded by any Qalla; and it had been ejected from flat storage on the bottom side of her wrist. If Xillae was on his feet again he might see the other half emerging impossibly from the adjacent space on the other arm before she stuck the ends together...and paused. A killing blow would have been on the menu if she hadn’t been given a reason to stall and squint.

She recognized him. But her memory from bad times and pre training was as always murky— a chitter poured from her throat and she went down on her knees; squatting as if to see him better. He himself, if applicable might have to truly study her features. It was neither Scilla nor Pitch who she now matched in frame; the petiteness of her immature era now gone for lithe legs, powerful thighs and fully formed spurs jutting from her heels. If he needed a sign to see who she was, her staj given to her by non-Qallic hands with none other like it amongst their people ( completely bone white and with a completely different sort of blade at the end not unlike a polearm rather than the dangerously scythe like curve he’d have on his own) still remained. Xanatos had fused it to her spine when he’d gifted it to her and made her nearly unbreakable.

Or maybe he’d just know those violent, orange eyes at first glance. Or perhaps the old laugh which she revisited upon putting her eyes on him.

[Xillaen'kudure]

One moment she was there, and another she was not. Upon finding his prey as agile as he was, he let momentum carry him toward the ground, upon which he dug in with the claws attached to his right hand, long and curving, digging deep and turning him to face his prey. When the response came, he could almost feel it coming. How many times had kirin-COMM been used on him during his retraining? Too many to count. She had no idea that he’d built up something of a resistance to it. He dug in his other set of claws, buried his staj into the ground as deep as he could and braced his entire body, tensing every muscle at his command. When it struck, he did not immediately leave the ground, but instead clung tenaciously to the earth. But as the wave’s full force struck him he had no choice, the kinetic force tugging him from the ground and lifting him, pushing him back for less than half the distance that she probably expected. And he didn’t lose his lunch. He got to his feet faster than his should have and as she recognized him, he looked more pissed off than ever. Than she had ever seen him, even. She had just lowered herself to the level of the females who had captured him.

He didn’t care what weapons she held. He didn’t even really care that she was the fully matured version of Kunkka. She had used kirin-COMM. Flashbacks of the re-education center warred in his mind, memories of the torture of his body as he was brought back from the brink. His whole body seemed to ache with the memories. He lifted a hand to his head, heel of his palm to forehead. He smacked himself a couple of times this way before refocusing on the woman who had suddenly dropped into a squat. One he knew very well. How many times had he seen her do that? Damn! I would be her. She would be the one they wanted him to spy on. To steal from. The hunter and the soldier merged into one in a split second.

It was with the grace of a stalking jungle cat that he moved forward now, rage forgotten. He was wary, however. The way he remembered Kunkka was a wild child, far more wild than he was, and ten times as psychotic. He moved ever closer, movements fluid. He tilted his head as he began to make out details. It was her eyes he recognized first. The violent, gorgeous orbs that he had been missing for years. He knew that look. He grinned, idly tonguing the slit in the side of his mouth as he took in the rest of the changes. He stopped within speaking distance, but out of range of the rod she still held, “The changes. They suit you. You look. . . complete.” And she did. The last time he had seen her, well, she had looked rather unfinished, compared to her sister. Now she was the female he had always known she was going to turn out to be.

[Kunkka]

Well she’d certainly been given an interesting show. It took Kunkka a moment to register that he was fighting the force in a manner that could have only been through training; rooting and steeling himself against the overpressure coming from the Dia-Haur. It was impressive to say the least as Kneivil’s specially built rod was meant to be several times more powerful than even the other high rankers in the specialized militia even if she’d employed it on a rather mild setting. She even watched him get to his feet with an unreadable expression and a frenzied look about him.

When Xillae rose however he would be surprised to see Kunkka no longer laughing and wearing a sudden look of fear and alarm; pointing the rod in his direction— the tip shifted from glowing blue to the color of a red hot coal. Now it was armed to be lethal. And yet, she didn’t fire….only threatened to while stepping back at the same pace he approached.

“I will not!” She always had a way of speaking that was overly literal and sometimes free of supporting context. She would not what? “You will not take me! I am free! I am without shackles and tradition and nobody owns me!” She barked; showing sharp teeth nestled in dark gumbs and an equally pitch colored tongue. It was reminiscent of an old line she’d heard from Kyllore of all people and many years ago. From a book she’d had read to her by one Seimoru Gantz. Something “Longstockings” from a children’s novel and a line had stuck with any Qallic woman who’d heard it. ”I am the sea and nobody owns me”.

They thought it the most clever thing any human had ever said or written.

Kunkka did become confused by the rapping on his head and then looked puzzled when he spoke. It solidified who she thought he was. Someone from the past.

“Xillae…” she’d say; stationary again and lowering the weapon. Her now long, wild hair obscured her features and she narrowed her eyes at him through the thick, dark strands. “Say you are not here to take me back to them. Do this and I shall not kill you.” Spoken in a matter-of-fact manner and in the same tone someone might use to ask to borrow money. He was only spared because they had a former association all those years ago. Xillae had been one of the few who had been kind to her— even if it had blatantly been in the spirit of claiming her for his own. He’d intended to make Kunkka his mate and had not at any point taken her refusal or disinterest for an answer. But on more than one occasion he’d healed her wounds, nursed her back to health and even defended her from harm.

To say they’d had a confusing relationship was an understatement.

“Your answer?”

[Xillaen'kudure]

The male approaching her was different from the one she remembered, no doubt. He was a great deal taller, having reached maturity himself. The bodysuit he wore, much the same as the one he had always worn when they were adolescents, now exposed something far different from the musculature she knew. The material now clung to a toned and clearly defined set of corded muscle, thick, but not bulky. It was as if his own skin was paper thin and every muscle underneath bulged with power, all the while never giving him any kind of disproportionate look with his long, lean build. And every fiber and bundle was iron hard and packing more power than ever before. Oh yes, he was different alright. He played the scene back in his mind, the things he had missed while he remembered things that ought to have remained buried.

Her words, the first ones, confused him a little. But in a way they made sense as he connected him to her personality and identity. He gave a soft snort, something you might expect from a feline as it expelled the breath that identified prey, “No, you never would. It’s coded in your DNA to be obstinate and stubborn.Have I ever tried to force you? No.” Mostly because she would be perfectly happy slitting his throat and lecturing him about how it was his fault while he exsanguinated before her.

And then the change in her tempers, the lowering of the weapon he didn’t give a damn about. His claws retracted back into flat storage and he grimaced, reaching up to rub at his temples, “My head hurts, Kunkka. They re-educated me. It’s packed full of useless crap about obedience.” He scratched at his scalp and dropped into a non-threatening, relaxing crouch, “For now they want me to watch you. See what you do. They they will most likely order me to kill you and take back whatever you stole. But I don’t want to.” He placed his forearms on his knees, “They abandoned me. Then they re-educated me. I don’t want to help them, Kunkka.”

[Kunkka]

While a bit taller and stronger than she had been before Kunkka was still slight for her age while still boasting a bit more lean muscle. Xillae, however, he’d become enormous. Now dwarfing her by several inches and more muscle per inch. Another sort of female of another species, perhaps human, would have found him incredibly attractive. Maybe he wouldnt have so much of a struggle finding a mate if he turned those physical qualities toward the lustful natives of Sanctum. Not that Kunkka considered him an eyesore….but she came first in her world and sometimes Xillae only proved to be an obstacle standing in the way of her strange and nebulous goals.

And then he made the mistake of saying, why yes, he was sent after her in the end. Kunkka lifted Dia-Haur in a blur and fired as he completed his descent into a submissive position— but she missed and likely intentionally. The sep-COMM hot blasts had hit the wet grass inches from his thighs on either side of his body and once in front. The smell of burning ozone and soil would tickle his nose, but, he was unscathed. She’d spared him.

“Obstinant and stubborn….free! Free is the word! I own me, not you! Not them! Not our Mother!” And in the classic style of old time Kunkka frustration she bared her teeth while stalking back and forth exactly in the manner of an angry feline predator agitated to the point of violence. “But you see I own something now...something that scares them. Something I took from Kneivil which was passed down to her from our Lord Mother.” She helt out Dia-haur and grinned while still pacing back and forth; her eyes never leaving him. Seems she’d acknowledged the non-threatening posture fully by then but wasn’t done giving him an earful. “I did as she wanted, I trained as a Gudrun Gut. I fought wars for us, I killed. But was nothing but a tool. Another sharp blade in her arsenal! I am no blade! I hold the blade!”

And then Kunkka stopped and very suddenly looked quite curious and engaged and she dropped Dia-Haur to the grass as if it meant nothing. One of the most important objects in her culture discarded into the grass so she could approach Xillae with a confusing and unreadable expression on her face. She could have been coming to kiss him or see about confiscating one of his kidneys. She was still ever the expert in her tribe’s almost surgically dangerous form of martial arts, of course.

Xillae would find her standing so close his nose might meet her very lower belly and she had dropped the weapon as well. It may have been a test— give him access by teeth to her most soft and vulnerable anatomy hidden behind the raggedy Gudrun Gut suit and while seemingly unarmed. She stared down at him before introducing her hand and those long claws into his dirty but long and healthy hair. It looked deep gray now rather than white.

“You don’t need education. You need to be free as well. Have you learned nothing from me? It costs nothing to walk away….to run the risk of being of being free.” Her hands managed to still be soft as she wedged over his visage and back into his hair; ignoring tangles to give him what was a more than intimate gesture toward any male. No wonder she’d always confused him— it was things like this she performed without shame. “Choose to be free, Xillae and I will show you how much more is possible in our lives. Or I will free you from this life.”

And the hand made her way back down his temple and cheekbone to find his chin and tip it toward her; meaning to meet his eyes. Her tone was caring, the threat delivered in earnest.

[Arcerion]

With the former First Sword smitten with a woman, his own mate indulging in her experiments, and his children working upon filling their personal lots in life, Arcerion was free to wander the plains of sanctum. His rivals eye's rarely graced him, he was but a small cockroach before the self-proclaimed god-emperor, but Arcerion was a very persistent roach. Soon they could all learn from him, but not here not now. This was merely a social call before he finalized the construction of Korel in a way that only the Exercion Prime could. Arc had scented something new, if not unfamiliar. An old play thing of him and his mates. Something which they had discussed over dinner was a perfect expression of the apex predator, if only lacking in the talents they as Bale and Exercion possessed. (Egotism being a key trait in both races, was clearly one of the reasons the two attracted so well). He watched across one of the small rolling hills as both Xillaen and Kunkka talked or growled at each other. He could never tell with this race, he only knew what he appreciated in their form.

Arcerion was of a tall if lithe build, standing at seven feet tall, and hardly weighing in at a solid 260lbs, it gave him a swimmer physique, and tended to make people underestimate him. The long hair which faded from black to snow white hung along his shoulders, uncombed and disheveled as was his common traveling practice. His face was covered in the mask of Apathy that Thargor himself had made for him. Ebon Steel coated half in white paint and the other half showing the steel it was made from. Eye and nose holes for the mask across his face, but not a single place for his mouth. The mask truly showed an apathetic expression upon itself, and in doing so completely dulled the very nature of himself. For some a mask simply helped to hide themselves, for him it literally dulled his affect upon reality. Coated in a long white lab coat, with white gloves, the clothes beneath this were black and red which was rather common for him. An opened black jacket worn beneath the white lab coat, along with a red tie and what looked like a black undershirt that seemed to move with him. Slacks of black and scuffed up boots, Arcerion was the same being he had always been when he wandered. Though no weapons upon his person were obvious, anyone who knew him would know that him appearing unarmed was little more than a farce to lure in the uninitiated.

Crossing arms across his chest he would watch the ensuing argument. How interesting to see the male of a species he had assumed that like the Bale was primarily female in his understanding. He sniffed at the air, and gathered the familiar, dirty scent of Kunkka, or at least that is how he had always thought of it. Raising a hand to his mask he would adjust the mask and continue to observe so very obviously at the pair. He smiled behind it and watched the both of them like a shark eyeing a meal. Though he had no intention of biting either of them, these things could be of use to him, that was a certainty that was within his mind. Shoving hands into his pockets Arcerion proceeded to place one foot in front of the other, focusing his mental powers upon the almost below him task of setting a beat to his very approach. His lips moved and sang in a deep bass that resonated around him. "So here we’ll sing a song about the High Lord’s Men. Now I’ll only do it once so don’t you ever ask again. These poor souls, whenever they delve deep inside. Their Mask is something from which they can never hide. Pure Hate is a thing that is usually rare to cross. Yet this passionate Man is never at a loss. The Uplifted Execration feels only Hate’s burn. A moment’s reprieve is all for which he can yearn. Let me tell you about a place where only Shadow lies. This one wears a mask that all others can only despise. The Cardinal of Silhouettes weaves shadows as well as song. To hear his haunting auras means that your time s’no longer long." Arcerion chuckled as he sang his own and his most beloved brothers verse. No chuckled was the wrong word, cackled was more accurate. He continued to walk towards them with a singular goal. Imposing his will as the true lord of killers here. Every step a lock fell and dissolved in blackness around him, and the sound of rustling metal echoed around him. The mask's stress would increase in holding back the Exercion's natural predator aura.

He kept both in his eyesight, never letting them leave it as he approached. He almost spoke his mind to the female, but that would be rude before the male of the species. After all he was not here to challenge their primitive breeding hierarchy or whatever it was these things got into. Arcerion was here to check up on an old friend. After all he could of sworn he had sent his own flesh and blood off to do this deed. Lucian would need to be punished since Father had found the beast first.

[Xillaen'kudure]

Oh, he knew he was attractive. In his delirious hours, in the space between sanity and oblivion, he remembered the females talking while they thought he could not hear them. Talking about how if he proved himself in this new mission he’d be a top breeding choice. How many soldiers of how many species had tried to kill her before? None had ever succeeded. He knew they had preserved his genetics, to experiment with and probably use for attempting to breed a better version of him, or a more controllable version of Kunkka, most likely. And to be quite honest, he didn’t give a damn.

And then she shot at him. It didn’t bother him, really. Unfazed, he brushed the steaming dirt from his clothing as if it were a simple nuisance instead of the result of a killshot that missed him by a few inches. This was why he had been chosen for this, after all. Because they knew she had an odd connection to him, no doubt discovered some time during her training with Kneivil. He listened to her tirade and his head tilted, watching her. He was enthralled with her movements. No matter how much she despised the Great Mother for controlling her, that control had yielded superb results. To borrow a quaint human phrase he had once heard, it ‘rustled his jimmies’, the way she moved, the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin. Even the expressions of her face, so familiar, yet better in every way.

But it didn’t last, the passive watching. Next she dropped the thing she was so proud to have stolen from the clutches of the matriarchal society which had spawned the two of them as if it was worthless. His brow perked in interest. And then she was walking toward him, closing the gap she had been practically terrified of letting him close just moments before. He stared directly at her lower belly before bowing his head slightly, eyes sliding closed, not wanting to stare too much. But then she did something strange. She ran her claws into his dirty hair. His eyes opened in a flash, expecting to be roughed up in some way and she could feel him tense. Any such interaction before their time apart would have been immediately followed by some kind of violence. But none came, and instead there was placed before him an offer of sorts. Of sorts, mostly because one offered life and the other offered death. When she tilted his head back his black eyes met hers and he tilted his head, relaxing, slowly but surely, as he held her gaze.

“Can you take their trash out of my head? Or replace it with something else? Because if you can’t you can either kill me or let me go back to being an animal. I’ll be of little use to you freed, but with my mind clogged and sluggish because of their hypno-therapy and indoctrination.” And then he heard the singing. In one fluid motion he was standing again, standing taller than she. His head turned in the direction of the sound and saw the approaching figure. The only reason his claws weren’t out and ready to spill blood was because the man was quite clearly announcing his presence. He wanted them to know he was here. Which also meant he had no fear of them what-so-ever. Which also meant that he knew something about them, and while Xillae had never met the man, Kunkka’s past associations were a mystery to him for the past dozen years or so.

[Kunkka]

As always, Kunkka twisted him up without a care in the world. Stirring his brains and likely deepening the combination of frustration and amorous affection he had for her. Sometimes she seemed fully cognizant of Xillae’s dedication toward putting up with her insanity and sometimes physical assault for entertainment or to put him in his place. She was dealing with someone stalwart; trained and dedicated to field her landmine riddled personality. Was it love or obsession? Or just duty toward someone he cared about? Who knew by this time.

More of his hair was moved about with uncharacteristic gentleness. Still touching him like a lover would. “I will take it out, yes. I will save you Xillae.” And the smile that spread across her face would have made any other person’s skin crawl. It was brought on by him tensing...she loved it. The little bit of fear and apprehension. “I took it out of mine and I shall for you. Even if I must pull the sickness out of you”

As usual something was off about it and on such a pretty visage with fine, delicate features most would call beautiful if not ethereal had they not been worn by someone so off the rails— and if they didn’t also split open with the flesh flaying and only tethered by thin tendon and membrane; her jaw fitted with natural hinges humans did not possess which could split in two and leave her tongue hanging without the support of her mandible. It would split briefly from alarm when the singing began but then sealed again with all the splits in her face returning to subtlety or invisibility soon after Xillae stood.

“Hm!” Toward the song being sung and another someone familiar. Certainly she’d come back to this green rock to something of a family reunion. Her mind scorched through as many memories as she could recall and all while, likely surprising to Xillae, she worked her body behind him. Hiding or using him as a shield? It wasn’t clear but it would be something he’d never seen from Kunkka— a submissive sort of apprehension for who approached and yet there were also curious sounds of interest and affection curling from between her teeth. They were so low only he would hear them. As Arcerion, emperor of the Dorian Empire approached she was now only a pair of glowing orange eyes and long, wild messy hair quite literally peeking around her much taller companion’s bicep. Either she was afraid of the person coming for them or it was some sort of coy game of submission.

With Kunkka, who knew?

“Be of use to me now. Stand between us.” Yes, human shield and also asking for protection of some sort. Yet another way she likely confused Xillae. Always boasting about being much deadlier than he through training, experience and birthright. And now her front was plastered to his back with her hands spread over his shoulderblades and her reaction to the masked entity confusing and contradictory.

For certain she did tremble each time she heard one of the chains. And again with making little sense or being consistent she gave Xillae reassurance. “Do not fear...I will protect you.’ Would be whispered into the space between his shoulderblades.

[Arcerion]

Arcerion was quite pleased by the attention he gained simply by choosing to exist at this very place.  Observation was key in his role as a leader, but sometimes instinct was more useful.  When dealing with man, you play the snake, with beast though, you made your presence known.  A shame the mask was in place, his smile was other worldly behind it, so much so that the amusement actually managed to show in his eyes.  The male of the species stood up, while Kunkka hid behind.  He took the males full height and build into account, did he think he could take the male of the species?   He certainly presented himself with the kind of confidence that had unnerved killers, man and beast alike for years now.  After all he took a sick pleasure in the fear of other living things.  He stopped ten feet from the pair, enough time to act if the male decided to prove itself to its mate or show itself off, but not far enough that he would need to yell to be heard.

Behind and around him were the ebon steel chains he so coveted, a mass of jet black metal, practically alive and writhing.  If an end to a chain could be seen, it would hold upon it something akin to a large meat hook.  He canted his head to the side to better view Kunkka before addressing her first, let it be known he did respect his friends, if not their allies. "Do you thrust this one in front of you as offering to me?  I would humbly accept, but my hunger is quite satisfied, and my mates needs tended to for the moment. "  A small and short laugh at his own jest.  He spoke again calmly as he spread arms outwards in a gesture of friendship?  Maybe it was him being cocky and daring the male to strike at him.  He would be quite pleased with that as well. 

"Welcome, to a hunting ground fit for gods.  You will find all kinds of delectable prey here. "  Something caught his attention, eye's widening he would nod and pocket a hand before drawing out a circular device, shining metal with a number of settings he could discern as the writing was of course in his own vernacular.  Twisting this way and that, he would press a button and pocket the device.  If either were sensitive to psionic fields, they would find he had just forced one to come about with a push if the button, its purpose for him to know alone.  If they weren't sensitive, well the most they may get would be a low static hum from time to time, and if they tried to concentrate on it, it would shift tone.

"Prying ears need to stop straining so hard.   Where was I?  Oh yes prey.  I'm certain you and your thrall would love to begin hunting and killing and whatever else it is you do while you're not busy, doing whatever else it is you do.  However might I pose to you a suggestion? "  He stepped forward, now closing the gap between he and the male.  Testing and pushing and in his own way ascerting himself as the true master here.  Kunkka knew him, had reason to fear and be submissive, Xillaen however did not.

What would happen when the Exercion met these predators.  Would they raise hackles and warn him off?  Submit and parley with him?  Or would they come at him with all their vigor and try to take down the one who so clearly desired to upset the pecking order?

The next few seconds were crucial, and could change more things that these creatures may not even realize.

[Xillaen'kudure]

He froze at the way Kunkka was acting. This was a first. To be honest, he had never really seen any Qalla act this way. And the noises she was making. He rolled his eyes. Clearly she had been busy while he was going feral on another world. He sighed slightly at her words, “You will protect me, hm? From back there? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Well, I do not think I will need protecting, to be quite honest. I’m not exactly the same as you remember me.” He then shifted his gaze to Arcerion who. . . . completely ignored him. This was in favor of speaking with the hiding Kunkka, whom he obviously knew. He let it pass, as the younger version of Xillae would never have done, and listened instead.

He couldn’t help it when there was mention of an offering. He snorted, giving notice that this was an absolutely ridiculous suggestion. He and the female currently hiding behind him might have a very odd, confusing relationship, but the only way Xillae would die would be at her hands, not by her hand. Thus, there would be no such offerings. Hell, he was even sure that, should Xillae attempt to harm Arcerion in any way, she might attempt to save her counterpart’s life. Not that it would do much good. For in this life Xillae had learned an important lesson. Anyone whom Kunkka was afraid of was someone he ought to be nice to.

The man’s speech wore on and when Xillae was called her ‘thrall’ he was going to interject, and then thought better of it. The description was fair, if you looked solely at his choices, instead of his personality or his thought patterns. It was true, he’d been wandering around behind Kunkka for a lot of years, for various reasons. When Arcerion began closing the gap, Xillae remained as relaxed and collected as ever, just watching the man come forward, “I have been enjoying the prey here for a couple of weeks now. Quite interesting, but not that challenging so far.” He glanced back at Kunkka, then forward at Arcerion, “As for me, Kunkka’s Thrall, I do have a name. Whether you care or not, I’d prefer that you use it. Xillae.”

[Kunkka]

“I have done no falling!” She’d say— and with amusement, no less? It was a terse situation and she was quite literally hiding behind him, but for some reason seemed to find the arrangement to be lighthearted. Again, likely confusing. And then the masked man said Xillae was her thrall and an offering which he was oh so loathe to refuse but simply had to.

Why, oh why was the little terror smiling?

As Xillae spoke and boldly displayed his Qallic pride; correcting him from ‘thrall’ to his given name she finally came out from behind him. It might have seemed she intended to approach the tall, malevolent force behind the mask but she only stooped to retrieve the white rod Dia-Haur, her people’s deadliest handheld weapon; and began to circle the pair in a wide berth. She did not keep the weapon armed however; both halves were split with a sharp click and held inert in either hand.

“Are you...my thrall?” She asked; passing behind Arcerion and giving him plenty of space. She’d have uttered the words unseen behind him. Now, she was nearly behind Xillae again.

“His name is Xillaen’Kudure, to be fair old friend and it is a name of honor for his tribe, our people and his station. Now that he is no longer burdened by “Al Acryd-thatn” he should be honored, yes? And you are Arcerion Shuinsai. Mated to Kanatal, yes? I do not speak her title because I do not know her honorific. Correct me.” Finally, she remembered his name, the empress. She hadn’t forgetten the old times. As terrible and frightening as they both were to all who bore the burden of association with them, Kunkka had considered them something close to intimate acquaintances. It was a complex relationship again— maybe moreso than her own with Xillae.

When she passed behind her so called thrall, she ran a hand over his wide back. Such a fine specimen, really. He would be a force to be reckoned with after he began to see things her way. Lo and behold, she’d start telling the tall masked man their business.

“My...thrall? He was another slave to our mother. But he chooses life now, he chooses freedom. I will give it to him! I will break his shackles to our mother! We will be our own blades now unless a more honorable usage of our services presents itself. We are soldiers after all. What are we without something to protect or kill?” At that she gave Xillae a pointed look that demanded he’d better absorb that last bit. “Knife edges become dull if not used and sharpened. Will your suggestion sharpen our blades, Arcerion?”

[Arcerion]

Arcerion was impressed, the young thing had a voice and in fact was not a meat shield as he had suspected. That was good, one Kunkka was valuable, but two like her? His instincts hadn't steered him wrong once more. He appreciated that at no point did he become tense. It showed either strength, or stupidity, both useful in their own way. "Xillae." The alien name rolled off his tongue with an elongation of the last sound, as if he was tasting the name itself. A smack of his lips together behind the mask could be heard, and he let out a chuckle. He stopped at seven feet, this seemed a good distance should either of them need to strike at the other. Kunkka's movements were watched, only an idiot took his eye off a beast like her. She may decide it was time she rose up against someone who had temporarily tamed her. Picking up the foreign weapon, he waited to see what she may do with it. When nothing came of it he supposed the time he'd spent with her before had instilled some form of respect. As she moved behind him, the chains he dragged behind him would part for her every foot step of their own accord. He could for lack of a better word, see her even as she was out of true eye sight.

He nodded in understanding what Kunkka spoke about their people, about breaking shackles to the ones they formerly served. Rebellious inclinations, how interesting. He may of inquired more about these titles and these alien words, but she asked to be corrected. The smile that spread out at that word behind his mask was, less than natural. Maybe it triggered a memory, but it was certainly pleasant. She would need to be corrected twice. "The honorific we both use is Vileur-Shuinsai. We have been busy since last you visited Borokai Manor Kunkka. It grew boring without your wit and company, so we decided to populate the house with spawn of our own. And then when they grew bold, as we knew they would, we needed more space, so we took exactly that from the worlds around us." He bowed, graciously, with one arm in front of his abdomen and the other behind his back. "The masses now call me one of two things. Monster, of course as they have always. And Emperor." Raising up would eye the both of them, listening more to their words as they heeded his own words and wished to know more. Ah blades, that needed to be sharpened, but also desired freedom, soldiers to protect or fight for something? Useful but at the same time such concepts were anathema to each other in the long term. Clearly there was something more to them than the hunting beast he had acquainted himself with so many years ago.

"I would be a fool if I did not offer you and your freed kind a place within my halls. However I know freedom newly tasted needs to be savored before accepting more shackles." If he was trying to recruit her, he was doing a rather shit job at it. He continued to speak. "My suggestion is simple. Continue to hone your blades upon the weak and the strong of this world. The only thing I ask is that you spare my people. In return, I would give you guest rights any time you travel my land, and if you bring me interesting specimens I can pay you in flesh, favor, coin, and trinkets." Basically he was hiring her on to harass the rest of the world, but leave his own kind alone. It would be a simple agreement, unless of course they wished to work for him officially. That could be interesting, after all the Foundation had been getting itchy for new technology, and the Black Sun was slow in producing things from their own delivered technology. he wondered if maybe he should warn them not to harass Ghanima as well? No it would do good to have them field their soon to be champion and rile the people. He trusted the former First Swords ability, even if he may lose an arm if he fought one of these beings on his own. It would do fine, as his aide had told him, the Empress appeared to enjoy scarred men, and what better scar than a lost limb.

"Any questions, my darlings? I am always open to negotiate. Though as Kunkka knows, I tend to drive hard bargains. At least most the time they have ended with a smile on everyone's face involved. Well at least for Kunkka, she has the unique ability it seems to weather even my mate's sick tendencies."

[Xillaen'kudure]

Surprise. That was the word that best described it. That feeling, when Kunkka demanded that this man, whoever he was on this world, honor little ole Xillae. Probably someone Arcerion would not have looked at twice, were it not for his association with Kunkka. It was true. She had a good deal more infamy in this place than he did, certainly. His deeds were isolated and, as such, little-known. But then the surprise, that had been growing into delight, curdled into frustration as his ears were assaulted by that word again. Thrall. After just having asked her acquaintance to call him by his name and honor him, she then turns around and drags him right back down into the anonymity belonging to a thrall. For who knew their names, or their deeds? Who noticed a thrall, unless one was needed for a task that was beneath the high and mighty? He felt these ideas and words twisting in his brain when he was labeled as such. And her hand on his back snapped him back to reality. A show of affection, perhaps, which stopped a violent outburst. But never-the-less, his arm snapped out and his fingers curled around her wrist, halting her in her circling, “You have just told this being not to call me a thrall. Practice what you preach, Kunkkaknuk.”

Oh yes. He broke out the Dad tone on her. The ‘brook no argument’ tone. However, that wasn’t to say he didn’t listen and agree with the rest of what she said. Though in truth, the only thing she had to do to ‘free’ him from the Great Mother, was get rid of his blasted headaches. He released her wrist and brought the heel of his palm up to his forehead again, hitting himself again to try, fruitlessly, to rid himself of the pain in his frontal lobe. He grunted softly, “Oh, and if you’re looking to free me, dearest, stop using that bloody word. Mother.” The last came out between gritted teeth, “It’s one of their command words. Throw a ‘great’ in front of it and I’ll be writhing in agony to resist the mental triggers that will turn me into a drone.” It was why he needed his mind cleansed. If anyone ever appeared who knew the correct phrases, he’d turn on her in an instant. Something that would leave them both mangled and bloody, and one of them in a ditch, most likely.

But now his attention fixed itself on Arcerion and he couldn’t help but grin a little at the suggestion, seeing through it to the scheme underneath, “Set the monsters on your neighbors, hm? Not a bad idea for you, if you’re half the creature I think you are.” The feeling he got from the man, even without his empath senses, told Xillae that this was a very, very bad creature. Worse than Kunkka could ever be. Worse than he could ever be. But really, they were all monsters, so he wasn’t one to judge. However, his brow arched at Arcerion’s comment, “You have been associated with Kunkka for how long, and yet you fail to see that she embodies all of the sick tendencies of our species’ past? One can tame her, but you cannot change her. She delights in violence and bloodshed. I like to think of myself as a little more refined. More about the thrill of the hunt, the feel of warm blood running down my chin as I consume my prey.” He shuddered slightly at the many memories. The taste of blood was high upon his list of favorite things, as Kunkka ought to know well. A propensity for raw meat will do that to a person.

[Kunkka]

One of Kunkkas more well known vices was being buttered up. It didn't even have to be in earnest, it only bad to amuse her. The obvious sarcastic manner in which Arcerion described his time spent with her and his mate as enriching per her wit as if they’d all simply sat around a hearth drinking spiced wine while the young Qalla femme and warrior made herself the prized academic of the night. It hadn’t been anything like that of course. Instead she’d learned that Kanatal would have made a fine member of her people’s ranks— she certainly had the savagery down.

“You had offspring...you made an empire….you have been efficient!” She’d say. “Emperor and Empress Vileur-Shuinsai. It has a ring to it.” Kunkka spoke of it as if Arcerion had just told the pair he’d finally gotten his driver’s license. It wasnt anything to scoff at of course and scoff she had not— it was only that her life was spent around monarchs, generals, leaders, demagogues and all their power struggles. Sometimes, it had her caught in the middle of some struggles. How she had managed to be involved even she didn’t understand.

Kunkka wanted to say more but she was very suddenly being manhandled by Xillae; her wrist caught in his iron grip and inspiring her to immediately become angry and try to pull away. Her mandible split again for one of the ugliest hisses Arcerion likely would have laid eyes on if he hadn’t witnessed her do so in the past. Someone wasn’t happy with being yanked around like a child. Especially using her entire name the way he had. It even translated to “Stop misbehaving or face the consequences” in their culture much as it did the humanoids.

“Let me loose and I’ll never say mother again!” Which was less of a motion to beg him off of her and more knowing she would fire that word from a railgun until black blood oozed from his ears. Just for leverage. And of course she made sure to enunciate it. She grumbled and uttered foreign curses against him as he turned from her to address Arcerion and his offer— while describing her in such unkind ways as well. Not that Xillae was wrong in his assertions but that didn’t mean he got to wax poetic about how terrible she was to the masked emperor.

“I am not ‘tamed’ and I shall not be! And I want more...there are always trinkets, coin, favor and flesh. Always…” she’d almost mumbled the last bit before turning her gaze from Xillae to Arcerion. “You are kind as ever. But that is beneath us. If we are to be honed by you it must be a dedicated and true utilization. Headhunting is for us in days past. I had thought you would think higher of me.” And even if Xillae hadn’t unhanded her she’d give the tall one a smile almost too eager. Kunkka communicated that she was insulted by his proposition but not so much she wouldnt refuse a better one. She was a super soldier, a cold blooded killer with valuable skills...not a hunting dog to play fetch. And neither was Xillae for that matter.

“A man once said to me ‘When I was a man I put away childish things’ ...or something of the sort. Perhaps you know the words. I know only few of those colloquialisms. Fetching flesh is a childish thing. I seek more purpose in utilizing our edge.”

[Arcerion]

Arcerion may have thanked her for her congratulations, except Xillae decided to speak and handle Kunkka in a way he saw as inappropriate. Though it was clear the woman could handle herself the natural instinct of the Exercion, as both a father and a protector of his people came to head. A deep growl originating in his lungs that spoke volumes of his disapproval of what was happening. Each and every chain rattled along with his voice, and spread out around him. Maybe preparing to strike. When Kunkka spoke the word that would harm Xillae Arcerions own growl turned into a mirthful chuckle. Raising a gloved hand to stop himself from going into fits of laughter. He no longer needed to hide if this was the way the conversation went. The removal of his mask of apathy, the enchantments loosed would give Kunkka a familiar if slightly different scent of him in a way. When last they had spent time together it had been before his own brother had betrayed him, and he had ordered the extermination, and for the first time in more years than needed described, an Exercion feasted upon its own kind. For Xillae who had never before met Arcerion, the removal of the mask might prompt in the weak of mind, fearfulness and disgust at his presence. The kind of disgust that festered until they began to believe delusions such as that everything wrong in their life was his fault. He was strong though right? He shouldn't need to worry about being affected by the Exercions natural ability to taint the ambient around him. What may concern the both of them was how the air now tasted of pumping blood, adrenaline and the very essence of the fear response. An unfortunate side effect of mixing a spore field with the aura, it amplified the senses just a bit.

Arcerions face was pale, and angular. The kind of face one could imagine on a noble born. No scars to be seen, and the smile was genuine. Lips pulled back to reveal every single tooth was sharpened, much like a sharks. Though it was nowhere near the kind of terror inducing grin that Kunkka had just displayed, it was clear there had been some sharing of meals that may of once had names and dreams. "Yes, a boy and a girl. Perfect little terror's in their own way. The girl takes after me in my younger days, and my son tries to emulate me now." When he mentioned his daughter there was a bit of sadness in his voice. Arc was not one to speak of his youth with anyone, ever. What kind of person had he been that his daughter now took after him? Xillae spoke of taming Kunkka, Arc snorted in a way that showed amusement. Clearly he did not believe the woman tame able. "While not incorrect in my intentions, the reasoning is certainly skewed." Kunkka's response only served to mirror his own thoughts. And then she surprised him. She surprised the hell out of him.

She mentioned thinking higher of her, of the rest of them, and he looked legitimately upset. The frown creasing his brow, showing his age and weariness as his plans for once actually were toppling around him. Not thanks to a rival emperor or upstart princes, but by this...beast. Clearly her demeanor was not her nature. he bowed his head in apology, as did EVERY chain on his body. Respect was something he held above all else, and his mate would of flayed the skin from his privates personally if he disrespected one of her favorites. "You have grown then Kunkka, I am glad you are no longer a simple predator hunting for flesh. I see." Yes the wheels began to turn, how could he use the both of them. They were oddities, with unique technology. Things like this could be incorporated into their current tech. They need not be limited by the Black Sun's slow plodding nature, despite his prods at Sergei to get a move on. A position of importance. It came to him.

"Name your prices Kunkka and Xillae, I may have roles which needs filling in my empire. The brutality you have shown in the past I assume has not left you darling?" he licked his lips as he spoke, smirking all the while. "While the light I cast with my armies grows by every day. The shadow I cast grows smaller. I once tried to recruit a useful tool to the role of Knight of Shadows, the fool brought the wrath of Celesin itself down upon my Niece, and nearly destroyed this planets Eco-system by causing a biological disaster. Tools have no place in my house, Kunkka you are no tool. And if you vouch for Xillae neither is he. Killers, information gatherers, trusted members of family in their own way is what the position would entail. In light and on paper, I would ask that you train my son. Instill in him the Brutality of a true killer. What I want from you is a task I wouldn't ask of anyone I didn't have absolute faith in. " He took a deep breath, and once more he checked the communications disruptor. Finally he seethed his hunger outwards from his center, feeling everything within eyesight. If someone was spying on him he would know.

"I want you to disrupt any expansion movements Celesin does. I'm sure they should prove a good whetstone for your knives edge, don't you believe?" If they accepted the idea, or even wanted to haggle for more or less, Arcerion was completely open. He recognized an opportunity when he saw it. By trusting his instincts he had first dibs on these new comers.

[Xillaen'kudure]

The grimace that crossed his face as she enunciated the word ought to make her happy. Or at least amuse her somewhat. Either way, she had been loosed the moment he was sure he had made his point. If she fired off more pain-inducing words in his direction, she’d be lucky not to walk away without his teeth marks on her. Either way, Arcerion’s reaction to Xillae’s actions surprised him somewhat. It showed that to him, Kunkka, at the very least, was not a pawn to be placed and thrown away if things went south. A bishop, perhaps, or a knight. Xillae was sure that no such thoughts were spared for him as they were for Kunkka. He rolled his eyes, however, when Kunkka began speaking of doing more for Arcerion than what he originally wanted from them. As impossible as it might seem, it looked like Kunkka had been forced to grow up a bit in these past years. The look she shot him, meanwhile, was so reminiscent of the old Kunkka that he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. There was a piece of the wild, psychotic adolescent girl he had known for so long. But it said that whatever else Arcerion might offer them ought to be exciting. The removal of Arcerion’s mask failed to phase him, as most things tended to. But it was less so the strength of his mind and more it’s preoccupancy with resisting the obedience training. He was having a hard time just participating in the conversation.

Disappointment colored his expression when Arcerion offered them the task of training his son. Now, he didn’t know Arcerion very well, but he surmised that passing his son’s care to Kunkka was no small thing. But even so, it was hardly the exciting proposition he had expected. He reached up to his face and scratched at it lightly with his claws, “Please excuse. Kunkka may or may not agree, but while we can teach your son to kill, we cannot instill in him the nature of a killer. If you wish him to be lethal to all about him, this we can do, but if you want him to have that killer’s gleam in his eye I would advise you to drop him in a place where everything wishes to kill him and tell him you will return in a month or two to see if he still lives. It is how I learned. Kunkka knows this. The last time she saw me, it was not as much the killer I am now.” This last part was pure truth. His training, before, had been about non-lethality in combat. Disabling his opponent while making sure they could still be of use to his superiors. But now, with the upgrades to his tech and that gleam in his eye, he was more about killing than ever before. All because of his time on that death world.

The offer to stop the outward push of Celesin was more interesting to him to be honest. It offered all kinds of opportunities for new prey and such for wreaking havoc amongst intelligent creatures. Their fear tasted so much better than the lower life forms he was used to hunting. The gleam in his eye brightened for a moment as he imagined the opportunities. However, the choice was clearly not his to make. Arcerion was speaking to Kunkka, and offering her the choices. So it seemed she would be his keeper in this new regime. And while he had no intention of walking away from her, it was doubly important that she remained close at hand, because she had promised to remove the painful indoctrination that would make him a drone for the the other side. He highly doubted, however, that she wouldn’t have a little fun with his aching head before she got rid of it for him.

[Kunkka]

Kunkka flexed her hand; stretching the tendons in her wrist after Xillae had put his grip on her. Arcerion might have shown his disapproval— it was almost sweet; but he didn’t understand that she’d done far worse to Xillae in the past. A seized arm was child’s play compared to the way she’d knocked the undeserving man around and tested his never ending patience toward her. There would always be violence. Not domestic, partner, intimate or controlled...just violence. And it was almost always from her direction. As for the growl the little pain was baffled for a moment at the reaction as she understood it with the brightest part of her animal brain not only as a promise to protect her if necessary (something she never understood. There were people invested in protecting her. Why?) but it meant that her association with Arcerion was not and never would be all business.

But she was the queen of complicated and strange associations involving attachment and in another powerful being’s case an almost fatherly sort of love. It didnt appear to be fatherly or ‘love’ with the Shuinsai fountainhead but something different— it was especially apparent when he seemed genuinely ashamed of himself and his offer and gave her a silent apology. His chains danced with him. First she loosed a low, engaged trill at his words and tilted her skull at him as he made to clarify that his impression of her had been shallow and far less than she deserved. It was nice, for once that someone make it known that she really saw her. Xillae was momentarily forgotten as she, now free of his strength, boldly approached the much taller and powerful Exercion.

“No, it has not left me. It has become refined.” She’d say; keeping it perfectly honest that while she was now mature and trained as an elite she certainly hadn’t become and kinder or gentler. “It is true, we are no mere tools. But we can fulfill a purpose if given quarter, appreciated, you understand.” Xillae began to speak and she let him; not that she agreed with his insistence that the prince be trained a certain way or it was a useless endeavor. “I accept.” She’d say; nearly cutting Xillae off toward the end of his statement. She wasn’t actually doing it that time to be her usual “charming” self but had simply weighed her options and saw fit to declare them as soon as she’d come to a logical conclusion. Arcerion assigned an actual respectful importance to her set of skills and knowledge and declared her had faith in her.

It was enough.

“I want to see your kingdom and your family. For now. If there is something I want in return I shall voice it when so inspired.” Was she being selfless or just another weird quirk? Truthfully, she was bored. Purpose was more than enough for now. Now, how would the emperor respond to Kunkka completing her approach and then seeming intent on putting her hands on him? Per culture, Xillae would understand non-violent touching amongst Qalla held significant importance. Tribes were very handsy even just as a form of silent communication and typically did not do the same with members of other Qallic nations— it was taboo. Unless they mated with a member of another nation, of course. So any touching Kunkka did of Xillae wasnt only confusing because it was subtle and intimate, but because it violated their cultural protocols and was akin nearly to sexual intercourse as a level of importance. She’d not harmed him or knocked him around but had simply touched and stroked him. And still seemed to have no declared interest in claiming him for a mate while they were certainly not of the same tribe.

There were layers to the ways Kunkka confused him and in truth she wasn’t consciously wrenching him around— but who knew why she did what she did? And then? She attempted it with Arcerion. Not doing anything toward his bare skin (as if she could reach his face without being awkward) but harmlessly ran her claws from his collarbone to abdomen. Not even tearing or straining cloth. It was more of a tickle. More strange affection.

“I alone will take on the tutelage and care of your Prince-son. Xillae, with my assistance as needed can attend to the other task.” As if reading his mind, no less! She hadn’t, they’d simply come to similar conclusions and it didnt hurt they were empaths of the same race. Arc might notice that his bleeding of emotion seemed to have calmed the two. Somehow. They did not react like humans and possessed a more alien gamut of emotion. As if the effect were just static stimulation he was feeding them, maybe even getting them a little high.

Doll like features turned upward to seek eye contact. If he hadn’t wrenched her away from him. Oh so many were not comfortable with Kunkka’s dangerous hands being on or near them and with good reason— those talons were natural sources of a rather potent toxin and that was without mention of Ka-Luz; the extremely precise form of Qallic martial arts she was an expert of. Not that it would harm the mate of a Bale, of course.

[Arcerion]

Arcerion noted their very unique reaction to the unveiling of his power, he supposed there were a few beings who would give differing reactions when confronted with the literal manifestation of this races hunger. He was not displeased in the least. Xillae may be confused as to how he saw them in value to one another. Kunkka was a known variable, Xillae was an unknown that she gave an odd form of respect to it seemed. A pawn was such a simple way of thinking about it, no pawn could achieve such a station as he was offering to them, and chess was so limiting in its use as a descriptor for what was truly happening here. If the analogy must be forced to fit then, they were both guns hidden beneath the table.

Xillae's own suggestion concerning how to give his son that predators gleam was noted. It wasn't an uncommon practice to do something like that to breed killers of extreme potency. It was also a recipe for disaster and mistrust. If his son came back, he would come back changed. Mistrustful of the father who had left him there, and it would scar his development for ages to come. A child possibly forever unable to reach maturity. Never mind the destructive nature his aura and bale tendencies would impose upon his body if left in the wild that long. It was an idea but logically it was counter-productive. An Exercion literally required society, without social interaction it would soon starve itself. The Bale nature would take over and shunt out the hunger, or so he surmised. As much as he respected his wife and her own substantial power, he could not risk the loss of a single Exercion.

He nearly spoke but was cut off at the pass at Kunkka's own acceptance. He quirked a brow, that was awfully fast. Her request to simply request things and meet his family was a given. He believed the acquisition of Kunkka once more would certainly please Kanatal. He nodded an agreement to what she asked. He stayed quiet as he saw her approach, and felt the touch of her hand through his clothing. Chains withdrew from where she stood, slithered around her on the ground, the only tell of his either nervousness or pleasure at the touch. Or maybe it was her next words which drove him to such a reaction? The Exercion may be an easy read at times, but his thoughts were always his own. After all he had twisted the truth in front of many a member of Celesin, and while he'd never openly lied to his allies in the Black Sun, he posed them more questions than he gave them answers.

He kept his cards close to his chest, so far in fact that Kunkka and Xillae may have to dig through his internal organs just to identify the game he was playing.

Finally he would speak, calmly, as if she wasn't even there and running fingers along him. "I accept your terms and conditions. I will make sure to introduce you to my son soon enough. I will also be in contact with my mate, I'm sure Kanatal will be pleased to reacquaint herself with you. Hopefully soon the three of us can catch up on old times yes?" He smiled as she met her eye's sharpened teeth showing his humor at his own words. "As for the kingdom I will be in the area a while longer, we are setting up for the official establishment of our town of Korel. No town is complete without a lords hold, and I have just the realm in mind. Once the hold is established well, a gate to either Borokai or the capital wouldn't be out of the question. Maybe we could even surprise Kanatal if you wished." Once more a chuckle as he mentioned his mate around Kunkka. A joke between them? Clearly it was getting old. He turned to Xillae, letting Kunkka muss about with him as she would.

"She vouches for you, so you shall be an honored guest. Should you require the services of me or my family, I would be happy to oblige most requests. Oh and do try to enjoy yourself once you're free of whatever mental conditioning your old allegiance gave you. The meat we serve is a specialty of the Shuinsai family, nothing quite like it in the rest of the universe." If kunkka were still moving her fingers along him he would place a gloved hand upon her shoulder and grin down at her. "If you keep this up, you'll start giving your friend the wrong idea, darling."

[Xillaen'kudure]

The idea he proposed, in itself, was proof that he was not necessary in the training of Arcerion’s son, except, perhaps, as a surprise sparring partner. Someone whom Kunkka might use to set the boy off balance in a training session or two, seeing as how their combat styles were utterly different. Mostly due to the fact that his best offence was his lack of a defence. Something he trained long years to hone into an art. One which was now more lethal than ever. But that was for him to know and them to guess at. He wasn’t the type to give it up on the first date, so to speak.

All that passed next was of little concern to him. He cared not for Kunkka’s petting of Arcerion, because while he may be bound to Kunkka, he knew that Kunkka was in no way bound to him, save by blood. And with Kunkka, that was sometimes thinner than air at the roof of the world. He flicked his fingers in response to Arcerion’s words about Kunkka giving him the wrong idea and said, quite plainly, “When has she ever given me the right idea?” True, and it would probably cut Kunkka to the quick in one motion. He nodded his head a little, “My thanks for guest right, though I doubt I will make any requests of you for the duration of my visit. Kunkka has assured me she can cleanse my mind of the conditioning, so that task will not fall upon your shoulders. As for the feasting. . . perhaps. I do not often enjoy meat that I have not carved up with my own knives.” Meaning, of course, that he always ate things he had killed himself.

But now his eyes focused upon Kunkka, “However, it should be known that if you leave me to rot on the borders of this man’s empire, watching his foes, by myself, you will regret it. My word on it, Kunkka.” And just the same as her, his word was his bond. While it may have seemed an idle threat from where the two of them were sitting, Kunkka knew that Xillae never put his word to something he could not follow up on. But even as he was speaking these words, he wondered if they might get him banned from Arcerion’s home. The creature, whatever it was, seemed fond of Kunkka, and willing to cause Xillae a great deal of harm to protect her. It mattered little, to be quite honest. What existed between him and Kunkka was for the two of them, just as what existed between Arcerion and Kunkka was for them. Xillae would not inject himself into that relationship, and he hoped, at the least, for the same courtesy in return.

[Kunkka]

“Old times…” she’d say; clearly amused and understanding the innuendo underneath a polite nicety. There had been some ‘times’ alright. Perhaps at some point she’d tell Xillae all about them and see if he would like to have some of those old times himself if the Emperor wanted as much. It did not occur that she could have been pouring gasoline on an already roaring fire of rage and obsession— a deadly combination for someone so thoughtless and malevolent as Kunkka when in the presence of the Qalla male. He’d been frightfully envious of anyone claiming her attention in the past and enough to wreak deadly havoc upon them. And yet he certainly wasn’t now when in the days of yore he’d have hauled off for far less than her simply stroking Arcerion’s abdomen over his clothing.

Kunkka didn’t think of this or really much at all in the spirit of her current activity. She was very busy and if Arcerion listened closely he would hear the continuous, low rumble deep in her chest. Obviously a sign of pleasure. And it would grind to a halt when Xillae made his little quip and earned her head snapping toward him with an expression somewhere between spitting, hissing and huffing; a sound of rage and offense that had no word for it. And then she grinned at him.

“You’ve only ever had wrong ideas! That is not my doing!” She’d say; not quite serious but more just hitting back at him verbally to get his goat.

She finally stopped running her nails over Arcerion to give him a message that she felt positively about his presence and proposal to saunter away from him as Xillae paid her a threat and put his word on it. Her response would be to shrug at him; both eyebrows lifting as if what he said didn’t carry any weight toward her.

“I am your keeper and you my quarry. I do not abandon my charges. I will do my duty as promised. You will only find yourself rotting on the frontier alone of your own free will. It won’t be because I put you there.’

Without missing a beat or seeming to care she simply folded onto the wet grass partway between them and began to disassemble Dia-Haur. Inside it seemed off-puttingly organic; pale violet and viscous fluid oozing from gelatinous components that connected a network lattice of deep purple, flesh like components. A thick inner shell of something not unlike tough adipose tissue appeared to separate the delicate inner workings from the hard bio-alloy outer shell. It smelled sharp, yeasty and also somewhat like burning hair once she began to do her touch of everyday maintenance on the weapon with a careful precision and dedication most might not think one possessing her attention span and temperament was capable of. She worked as if they weren’t there but eventually did speak.

“Would you like us to accompany you right away, Emperor or shall we simply arrange a date and meeting place for the future?”

[Arcerion]

Arcerion cared not what was told to Xillae by Kunkka, if anything the respect he and by association his mate garnered from Kunkka should be by and far enough to explain away any stories. They were powerful and brutal, and Kunkka respected that. If Xillae respected Kunkka's decisions he may respect what had happened in the past. Arcerion had no idea what to make of that sound that Kunkka made, but they didn't seem to be killing each other so that was certainly for the best. As she made mention of Xillae having only wrong ideas he would cough politely to interrupt any thoughts he may have of quipping back.

"Take it from a mated being. All of your ideas are wrong until they work out for the best. Generally speaking I prefer to settle disputes through combat, but the last time we did that, she bore twins, so I suppose I won that argument. I can't even remember what it was over...." he chuckled and listened and watched more as these beings interacted with each other. There was a certain amount of poetry to the both of them in the sickest sense of the word. However Xillae did make a point about leaving him off in some back water to rot. Arc would shake his head as he set his mask down upon a chain, containing his aura once more. "It is criminal in my empire to mistreat a guest. Think what you will of those around you, but take it from Kunkka. My guests are always my concern."

He watched the weapon be open and sure enough he was fascinated. Their technology was more biotech than his own, and that was saying something. Maybe something could be done to mix the two in the future? With the Black Suns own advancements they may all yet come up with something to exceed their enemies. Only time would tell at this rate. He turned away to begin his journey back to an entrance to the labs, until he heard Kunkka's last request. "I will leave you two to catch up and speak among yourselves, I need to pay a house visit to my mother." He continued walking away for a moment before stopping and smiling.

"Now I remember, we were arguing over what to eat that night. I suggested Kunkka, and she suggested an elf. Haha good times." And with that Arcerion walked away.

[Xillaen'kudure]

Kunna’s mock-outrage was typical. He’d seen it before, and he doubted he’d never see it again. And so the gesture he made in return was one she’d probably never seen him make before. He was a much more relaxed version of himself these days, and wasn’t quite so tightly wound. So he yawned in her face. His lower jaw split, exposing his rather terrifying maw. And to top it all off, he lifted his hand up as if to block the exhaled gasses in his lungs, though that was hardly possible. The icing on the cake, if you would. When he was all sealed back up, he looked at Arc, who it seemed had tried to cut off any reply and went right on speaking. It was hardly necessary. He and Kunkka had gone back and forth like this for months at a time. Unless something deadly serious was said between them, it wouldn’t come to violence.

He chuckled, “Mated to her? As if she would ever allow such a thing. As if I could stand such a thing. I would probably have to throttle her twice a day just to stay sane. If that wasn’t enough, throttling her would only make her horny, and then she’d be trying to seduce and murder me at the same time. I think I’ll pass. Nothing would ever get done that way. Kids would be worse. I’d get knifed ten times a day, all the while she wanders around muttering about how it’s my fault.” He shrugged, then looked on Kunkka to address her words, “Don’t talk about me like you haven’t already bait, captured, skinned and dressed me, Kunkka. I haven’t been quarry for a very long time. These days I’m a walking, talking trophy that you can trot out at fancy parties.”

The maintenance of Kunkka’s new toy was of little interest to him, and so he watched Arcerion walk away before looking at Kunkka, “It looks as if we’ve been left to our own devices, darling dear. Shall we get my beating over with, then?” After all, he’d said some fairly offensive, however true they were, things to her and about her. He figured there would be violence. Quite the change, he’d gone through, however. Before, it seemed his life’s mission to make her one of his possessions. Now, however, it seemed his only goal was to antagonize her as much as possible. In this breif moment of clarity, he inwardly wondered how she’d deal with it.

[Kunkka]

Kunkka’s eyes widened at being referred to, if indirectly as “mated” with Xillae; her mouth dropping open slightly and her work on the viscous innards of the weapon in her lap ceasing. She’d meant to say something to Arcerion toward correcting him on such an offensive faux pas— her? With a mate?! Not just Xillae but a mate of any flavor was something Kunkka had no interest in. being tied by the ankle to someone and having them be your third leg was the stuff of nightmares for the petite douleur. She couldnt imagine herself made more docile toward the mutual instinct of breeding with anyone. It sickened her.

However, Xillae opened her mouth and did it for her. And, to boot, he still managed to annoy her. Right but still wrong and she expressed her disdain by snorting and focusing on the rod again.

“Then I trust we will see you soon enough...revoir mon vieil amour” she’d say; speaking French in a perfect diction with no trace of her otherworldly accent. It may confuse the two men present, but, she did not seem to care. Someone she cared about deeply many years ago had taught her poems and song in the language and then the language itself. She’d learned it in it’s entirety within the week and not from some exaggerated intelligence, but the way the Qallic brain was arranged. All languages were easy for them and most of all— Kunkka had taken a shine to French like a duck in water.

When Xillae gave her the quip about her not being his quarry she’d pause and look up toward him while making the choice to continue her French.

“Tu aimes quand je te chasse” she’d say, even reaching up to pet his cheek just as she had before Arcerion had arrived. Kunkka had a voice meant to speak such a language. She only ever sounded sane and perhaps imbued with class when she uttered this language rather than the aggressive Qallic or the common diction of this world. A short laugh and she returned to the rod, ignoring his existence and anything further he had to say. Though he did earn a scoff about his “beating”. If he wanted one so bad he was free to ask her for it— and nicely, at that.

[Xillaen'kudure]

Xillae got his cheek patted, some french garbage spouted at him, and then was promptly ignored. To be frank, he felt cheated. Where was the classic Kunkka outburst? Where was the flabbergasted Qalla he had been expecting to respond with suitable violence. He frowned at her, “You know, doing things i don’t expect you to makes me suspicious. After all, I thought I would get a mouthful of your knuckles as soon as I opened my mouth. Did they mess with your head while you were training? Did they try and fix you or something?” He shifted his foot, idly poking her side with the claw of his big toe, trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

But even though he got jipped on his brawl with The One, he wondered what it would be like to spend so much time around her after so long. He had been out in the wild for a long time, fighting for survival at first, and then to establish his dominance of the creatures there. Lessons he would no doubt find useful in altering his relationship with Kunkka in the future. No doubt she would take it as him being lippy or some such and attempt to put him in his place. But he was different than what she remembered. He wouldn’t go back to that place as easily as before.

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