RP:Opposites Attract
Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc
Summary: Neferet is enjoying a moment of solitude when she's interrupted by Brynhild, a woman that she had the displeasure of meeting a week prior. The two have an icy conversation, and finally they come to an agreement. Nef will join Bryn's cause, in an effort to revive the Saurian Empire, if Bryn offers her protection against her father, should he ever discover her whereabouts. They formalize it with a handshake, before Bryn heads off to meet with a half-breed, in hopes of recruiting him, as well.
Neferet sits at the edge of the cliff, her long legs dangling in the air, as she peers at the drop that would surely kill any mere mortal. The thought of one’s bones shattering, their skull crushing, blood and gore spilling onto the freshly fallen snow at the bottom, brings a rare smile to her face. It’s nearing the midnight marker, the wind chill is below zero, and the woman seems to be right at home, her rear planted firmly on a patch of ice. Inhaling the brisk air, she tilts her head back, cornflower hues taking in the sight of the cloud covered sky. It’s a lonesome life in Frostmaw, and Neferet knows better than to travel this near to the villagers. Shifting would be noticed, many would run in fear, a few may try to strike her scales with an arrow. She cares not. Their attempts would be futile, for she was fierce when soaring through the sky, her scales an impenetrable cloak of silver and white, her disposition turning feral when provoked. Nef wanted to feel free. As free as that promiscuous red dragon she had encountered in Xalious. It had been a week already, and she somewhat expected Bryn to make an appearance. As though she were summoned, the hair rises on the back of Nef’s neck, and she turns an accusatory glance to her side. Someone was nearby, daring to interrupt her moment of solitude.
Brynhild has crossed the vast swathe of lands in search of a Dragon she had stumbled upon during her awakening; when she blasted through the earth and stone in a display of wanton destruction. It seems now that the gallant steed she finds herself mounted upon is giving her a bit of attitude. She couldn’t blame the horse, she hated the cold too. But what do you expect from such a simple minded creature and one which had only been recently ‘acquired’? She gives a quick tug of the reigns to veer herself onto the cliffs edge where cerulean eyes scour the scene, only to find the target of which she sought - Neferet. An amused smirk tugs at a single corner of her shapely lips. When such opportunity strikes, you take advantage, at least, that’s what she recalls from her childhood lessons. The Dragoness disguised as a human female pulls her horse to a stop where she climbs down, hitting the earth with a solid thud. Oh how Brynhild dared to break Neferet’s moment of silence. As if they were friends from some long ages past, she marches through the deep snow towards the white. “Been a while, hasn’t it Neferet?” Of course her tone is riddled with the taint of authority - one which only a red could garner without having any claims or titles. “How has Frostmaw been to you?” Her gaze moves from Neferet’s alabaster hair to the cliffs edge, daring to peer over it as no one would. She wasn’t here for idle pleasantries no, there’s always a reason for Brynhilds presence, but this time she isn’t threatening to dominate her. Yet.
Neferet finds her attention drawn to the horse and she snorts in disdain, as though the scent of the steed had deeply insulted her nostrils. “Where did you find that –thing- its repulsive?!” Clearly, she disliked animals, nearly as much as she disliked mortals, and everyone and everything else in the realm. If one were to ask, it was probable that the only things Neferet actually enjoyed in this world was scented smokes, expensive ale, and naturally, her own semi-beautiful self. Had she summoned the red? It was odd that she was imaginging the beauty, and lo and behold, she materializes before her very eyes. Nef could’ve done without the horse materializing, as she wafts the air away from her face, and scowls. The horse is all too eager to walk away from Brynhild, as they often were skittish around their kind. Wanting to be defiant and ignore the blonde, Nef glances back at the drop, knowing that her ‘moment’ of shifting and flying off into the night would have to be postponed. Bryn was causing her all sorts of trouble. Always delaying her cravings. However, one particular craving is apparent, as she trails her gaze from those boots up to those shapely lips. “It’s been about six or seven days? Not exactly a while.” She could go without seeing the red the rest of her life… Though, she was the –only- other dragon she had encountered in quite some time. Decades, really. “Frostmaw is home, so it’s wonderful. Cold. Snowing. Humans dying from frostbite. Thrilling, truly.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, “What brings you to the tundra, Bryn?”
Brynhild drops the amused emotion etched over her otherwise stoic features, sighing over the frigid cold of this particularly dark night. She had grown impatient beyond belief, having to dredge herself up from the bowels of these lands, only to have climbed these tall mountains in search of Neferet. Things were more serious now, and she did have good reason to be here. Though obviously the other wouldn’t approve of her reasons. It mattered little. “Spare me your silver tongue child, the beast,” a hand flicks back to point at her horse. “Is being used to keep up my disguise. Mortals travel this way, as troublesome as that is.” Her voice is like a whip which cracks over the backs of slaves pushing mountainous sized stone blocks. Her gaze sweeps through the lands on their path back to the ice dragon. It had been some time since she had a good and hard fought battle, and she needed it again; like flowers aching for the sun mid-winter. Perhaps even this emotion is what leaks into her response? “Haven’t you grown tired of watching the weak die? As if their whole existence is just futile? Without direction?” Her gaze moves to the night’s sky once more. To answer her question in a roundabout way, she begins. “You and I aren’t alone.” She lets the silence hang in the air momentarily. “It seems your precious Frostmaw is run by a silver dragon, named Hildegarde.” Neferet was hunting in the grounds of another, established dragon. “And there’s a filthy half-breed. Black and red, named Scandal.”
Neferet II A strong gust of wind blows through the area, causing a blinding snow drift between their forms. It’s powerful enough to push the cryomancer off of that steep cliff, or give her enough time to flee the area unnoticed, though she does neither. Once the wind settles, Neferet rises, dusting the flakes from her armored form, as she quirks a brow in amusement. “So, you want to blend in with those riffraff? If you’re that hard up to become a human… Well, you’re in the wrong place, Cherry Scales.” She knows the nickname grates on the Red’s nerves, and oh how she enjoyed getting beneath the skin of another. Which is also why she’s in another dragon’s land, though neither had tried to contest the other and claim Frostmaw. Neferet was pleased with living far from the locals, and that’s likely why this Hildegarde that Brynn mentioned hadn’t spotted her, in the past six months that she had dwelled in the frozen abyss. “I care not –who- owns the lands. She’s welcome to come and duel me if she must, but I’m not here to make any trouble. In other areas? Surely. Though I know better than to bring my meddling to my residence.” She gives a careless shrug, growing bored with this conversation. She preferred Brynn when she was flirting and threatening, and not nearly as whiney. “I care not if I’m a loner. And I want nothing to do with that disgusting half-breed.” She shudders, as though considering a red and black mix an abomination. And not much bothered the White. “So, let me get this straight… You ventured all the way here, to tell me that you know of a Silver Dragon, and a worthless mixed whelp. You’re disguising yourself as a human, and desperate to blend in with society. And you are lonely.” A hint of smile is given, “Is that all?”
Brynhild and her features do not betray her; holding fast to the void of which still lingered from earlier. She assumed that Neferet would be grateful to know at the very least, Frostmaw belonged to another. Almost reflexively she raises her left arm, her hand twitches to grasp at the leather straps which hold her bracer in place - fixing the bit of irritating string causing that appendage to feel itchy. Beyond that, she seems as though she’s only half in this conversation. You wouldn’t know that she was actually interested in being an active participant otherwise. “Actually, I came here to extend you an offer, just once.” She ignores the others sincere attempts at getting under big reds scales. What a trifling matter. “I’m here to extend an invitation to you, join me and we will set out to cause fear and panic among the lands. Others will join of free will or be forced into submission.” She lets the air hang as if to suggest something which she finally follows up with. “But be warned, should you deny such an offering, the next time we meet, I will smash that icy attitude of yours beneath the fire of my red claws. You will be forced to obey.” Brynhild tilts her head to one side, waiting to see if the other would accept it or not. This was the true purpose of her visit. Parading around as a mortal has only been done so that she could fit in with the locals. Each and every person she deems fit to follow at her side, will be granted such an opportunity. Neferet isn’t special in that sense. However, Brynhild’s words are backed by both tone and the look in her eyes. She is serious, and that’s beyond questioning.
Neferet finds her hour of serenity coming to a close as she takes a daring step nearer to Brynhild, fully prepared to initiate an attack. However, the twitching of her appendage was nothing more than the dusting of her bracer, or perhaps an attempt to shield her nerves. At once, that advance is slowed, though they are only a mere foot or so apart. The air is thin, tinged with the thickness of frost, and they both are forced to take deep breaths. In Nef’s dragon form, this would be a simple feat, though in her human form, it causes her chest to dramatically rise and fall, a slightly painful pinch with each harshly taken inhale. Ah, the threats returned, and she somewhat missed them. None dared to speak with the White, unless she was tending to business in a populated village. Otherwise, she preferred her loner lifestyle, as she kept no friends or family. Locking eyes with Bryn, she tunes her out for a moment, merely studying the shapes that her lips make with every formed word, and the way the moonlight shines in her eyes. The Red wasn’t all that easy to figure out, she craved companionship yet she was detached. She wanted to rule, to dominate, and to always be viewed as the strongest in the pack, yet she was giving Neferet the chance to come willingly, rather than force her to submit. She was a dragon with a hidden heart, and it’s disgusting and enticing, at the same time. “If you continue to blindly walk your way through this realm, in hopes of bringing others to your foolish cause, you will get your heart broken, Cherry. You’re coming off as soft. That is unacceptable.” She sighs, realizing that she almost reached out and touched the others cheek, which would make her appear equally as kind hearted. Neferet was far from kind. She had killed in droves without remorse, and dark intentions roamed her mind with every passing minute. Yet, Bryn is the first of her kind that she had seen in a very long time, and she felt an obligation to make sure she didn’t go and get herself killed. “I guess we could team up. You mentioned causing chaos, instilling fear, and leaving mayhem in our wake… -THAT- is very appealing to me. But let’s get one thing straight…” Now, she gives a genuine smile, her steel hues tainted with desire. “I’m not your bitch. I do what I want, when I want. Just because I’m coming along for the ride does not mean you rule over me. And I refuse to make friends with the others that you recruit. I prefer keeping to myself. I will work alongside all of you, and have your back in battle, should that arise.” Neferet swallows, a faint redness appearing in her cheeks, “You also should know that I’m being sought, from my father. If he appears, it will end in his death. No questions asked, no trying to bring him among the ranks, none of that. Do you agree to my terms, Brynhild? If so… I guess you got yourself a comrade.” She fights not to roll her eyes.
Brynhild lofts a single eyebrow to Neferet and the underpinnings of her words. Weak. Pathetic. Perhaps she didn’t understand that Brynhild meant to bring the empire back. For now, Neferet’s terms could be accepted. But one day, she would need to be brought under boot as well. However, she remains silent about such thoughts. The combined efforts of Ice and Fire would drown the realm in a bath of blood and turmoil. These thoughts do crack the ever stoic visage that is Brynhild’s perfect features. Despite their sudden closeness and the others unspoken want of reaching towards the reds features, she does not act upon such things. Finally, that filthy leather strap is fixed, and both arms fall back to her sides in thought. “Have no fear Popsicle, your daddy won’t know what hit him when he appears before me. All those marching for this cause, are granted my protection. Even if you’ve not sworn an oath of fealty to me. For now, an alliance is acceptable.” The air of authority still laces her very core. “Should he appear here, you shall bear witness to the fate you have avoided by joining me this night.” Brynhild truly believes that Neferet has made the right choice, and together, along with others she has yet to recruit, they will dominate the lands. “I’m sure there are other dragons among these lands, still in hiding. Like you and myself.” Both have been avoiding the masses in their own ways. “We will gather them all.” She nearly spits at her next words. “Including this filthy half-breed. He may yet have some use for us.” She finally gives a genuine grin which is far more serpent like than human. She extends her arm, in an attempt to clasp the White’s own in a warriors handshake; hand gripped around her forearm. “This I swear to you Neferet. As an ally, you have my protection.”
Neferet knows the importance of this cause through Bryn’s eyes, as the Red had risked the journey to Frostmaw, of all places, to seek an audience. Fire often despised Ice, though like magnets that were forced to repel, there was also that undeniable attraction, the need to defy gravity and give into inertia. Together, they would be an unstoppable force, and the destruction they could cause would echo throughout the realm. Bryn would reclaim the lands in which she once held a title, they would revive the saurian race, and in such, it would solidify the union of all scaled beasts, nationwide. Neferet knows that there is a greater strength in numbers, and though she’d be content with her solitary lifestyle, she is growing to like the idea of having a partner in crime. The Red and the White had different viewpoints, and one meant to rule, whereas the other enjoyed the macabre side of things, yet it was a wiser choice to ally than repel. Plus, she was easy on the eyes, and being that Nef preferred the company of females, she would enjoy the view when working together. The seriousness of the moment is shattered when she’s referred to as ‘popsicle’ and although it was downright rude; it also brought some humor into the conversation. “Popsicle?! Alright, I’ll let you have that one, Cherry.” She laughs, and it’s so unlike the icy exterior she wears, warm and welcoming, as though she hopes the other will chime in with a giggle. Scandal’s heritage is noted, and she’s not eager to meet with this half-breed, who also happens to be a male, but she’ll risk it, for their cause. As Bryn extends her hand, Nef pauses, hesitant to accept the gesture. Back home, they sealed vows this way, and though she gave a verbal agreement, she didn’t feel that things had to be formally sworn in the middle of a blizzard. Didn’t they have a throne somewhere, or a vacant room, where things could be made official? Couldn’t it wait until they had a few more dragons, or even a witness? With a sigh, she finds her own hand reaching out, and she in turn, grip Bryn’s forearm, so they are both clasped to each other’s limbs, their faces close. The Red speaks first, her words ringing true, her expression of sincerity, and Nef finds that she’s not hesitating as she replies, “This I swear to you, Brynhild. As an ally, you have my word that I will not betray you.” The others were a possibility, but she had honorably sworn to obey the red dragon.
Brynhild gives a small chuckle once they have sealed such a deal. Even if they weren’t in a throne room or some place of power, her words rang true. They were a personal promise to Neferet, nothing more and she would stick to them; whether they succeeded or failed in the task. “Now that such formalities are out of the way,” Brynhild turns to the south, locking eyes with the horizon. “I was told this half breed can be found in Venturil. I will bring him to our cause, in the same manner I have with you. It will be offered, but if he’s committed to defying, I will force him to swear fealty.” She points off in the distance, “If you have need of me, I’ll be there searching for this abomination.” Brynhild has purposefully left Hildegarde out of the equation for now, which should be obvious. “I intend to ignore Hildegarde for a time. If she truly runs these lands, we don’t yet have the power to draw her to us.” She gives one more smile; revealing those perfect teeth. “Soon enough I shall call for you and the fun will begin. Until then, try to have a little fun of your own would you?” She quirks another eyebrow, leaving the meaning of her words undeciphered for the alabaster haired Dragon. The warrioress gives a final nod and remounts her magnificent steed, if it can even be called such a thing by her own words. Before long she is gone from sight, moving back down the slopes from where she came.