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Private villains of circumstance
Nocturne Low Control
— Portrayed by Lydian
Female Vanyara Four Years Unknown
Nocturne Alucinari

The days stretched on, aimless travel had begun to crack the pads of her paws with the more rough terrains; but that was of no issue to her at the moment. A little blood never hurt anyone, or so they said. The fools, that is. Those who had no clue of what a little poison and a poke could do. She'd taken to flying more often in an effort to rest her legs, something that was unofficially frowned upon in her tribe. It was said that excessively using anything like magic or the 'easy way' was a sin, the crime of being slothful. Perhaps that was another reason she had left them all behind, that isolated  tribe of hers. They were trapped within their old ways, ignorant to the changing tides of the world. Nocturne was certain, she could be more if she only continued on forward; never looking back. Moving ever-forward, to where victory lies. 

In this way she felt rather free, as though nothing held her back. However that was not nearly as wonderful as some might think. Not to her. It felt pointless. What else did she have other than the passing ownership of the dirt beneath her paws? She had nothing. She was no one. And that, was utterly resent-able. As though her emotions had triggered it, flames surged into existence upon her back. Wrapping around her tail as it lashed, a huff forcing itself from her stitched lips. Those vibrant flames climbed towards her ears, setting her antlers ablaze as though she wore a flaming crown of bone. The ivory woman would come to a stop, glancing across the eroding hills both green and brown. She had an eye for use, and as the flames settled into a calmer burn she took her own calming breath. This could be an interesting terrain to partake in training, and such a simple thought eased her feelings of irrelevance. 

But for how long?


Nocturne possesses Elemental Aura, therefore flames dance along her crimson markings. 

Vhago Savage
— Portrayed by Ser Kosm
Male Cross Breed 5 years Pansexual

Came they as moths fluttering towards an ever-constant fire happy to find a warmth outside of their lives in the dark, seeking and wondrous droves of them with purpose in their hearts. Even if the warmth would eventually burn their fragile wings to cinder sending them spinning senseless to the ground helpless and new they came. For there was truth in the light, desire in the light, a home in the light. Fresh legs on a foreign ground even wingless they survived and were something different, something apart from the rest of this existence.

For this was a new era.

So Vhago found these grounded moths with the wish to offer them an alternative, brand new wings on which to fly under his holy gaze that would not disintegrate at the merest touch. As they came unto his land he seemingly hunted them down yet the truth was that he was driven by this insect fate as well, drawn out of supposed coincidence. That was how he came across Nocturne. All too apt it was that she was a fount of flames, a living candle that the Lord's single eye picked up at a distance in the depths of growing dusk and thus magnetized him like his metaphorical moths. He did not creep nor hide himself for these were the lands of the Gods - His lands - rife with energy and accepting of him. A Lord did not sneak about like a trembling mouse.

He found the she-wolf easily, this newcomer to his terrain burning like a pyre so brightly he could hardly make out the color of her fur, her head a handsome crown of flame and her posture something frustrated and forlorn. Vhago could have sat and watched her for ages, the way that shadows were cast, dancing like demons beneath the fading eye of the sun, the crackle of her fiery cloak searing deep into his ears. For a moment he was reminded of the dragon he had faced, the one who had blessed him in that red rose and tore away the half of his face. Another face came to mind; Volkan who's own fires seemed to flow on the inside rather than out. Shaking his single-antlered head loose of the reverie the Zenith decided to step forward. 

Folding from the shadow dance, Vhago Mors Veritas' mane of burnished red-gold glittered in her light. The fire that surrounded her was already growing dimmer but it had already done the deed of bringing the Lord straight to her. His voice came in a rumbling purr, smooth and golden as his honey hued coat. "Welcome, friend. You seek something here, I wonder if I can help you find it." Vhago cocked his head, letting his one crimson eye rest on her, seeing now the ivory of her pelt, beautiful in it's own resplendent way.

TAG -- @Nocturne
OOC -- Sorry for the wait <3 Please accept a hot homemade pizza for your troubles

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