PAY THE FEE, ENTER OUR TRIALS

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool watches Hornet exit the hot spring, and he sits there expecting her to make her way to the exit and out of his territory for good. He doesn’t hate her, he couldn’t, but he wishes he had introduced himself some other way to prevent the argument. But alas, the past is the past and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

However, when Hornet begins to move elsewhere and away from the exit, Lord Fool gets up to follow. Below his den, the stores of wyrmblood that had dried and crystallized following his first death. He can’t believe he had nearly forgotten them.

“Stay away from that,” Lord Fool warns. “It’ll drive you mad, and I mean that as no exaggeration.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool has to stifle the urge to defend his sibling, because he knows Hornet is right despite everything. He knows his brother did love Hallownest, but... love isn’t good for much when it’s misdirected.

Instead he only shakes his head, and paces out into the main room.

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

“It’s something neither of us have control over. You treat yourself and your half-siblings unfairly by letting your heritage command your worldview this way.” Lord Fool narrows his eyes. Normally, he wouldn’t read a bug’s past unless necessary, but...

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. It only takes him a moment, it’s mostly what he expected, but he understands this fit better... he thinks. He doesn’t see a princess of two kingdoms before him, but a child that never had the chance to grow up properly. It reminds him of the many of his siblings that never even saw the sky before their parents ate them. And those that escaped his parents, well...

He grimaces, recalling what his newly-hatched self was guilty of.

“What I suppose I’m trying to say, here, is that every being has the capability to be more than their blood bonds. To hold someone’s heritage against them is to refuse them the opportunity to be anything but a product of circumstances beyond their control.”

"I have no desire to listen to your long speeches, trying to defend the wyrm. The vessels want nothing to do with him and neither do I. Drop it."

Herrah had barely even been a part of her memories. Most of what she knew came from others due to her separation at such a young age. The king, when present, was too busy with some other work and would often leave Hornet in the watch of one of the great five or of white lady. That sort of refusal to even acknowledge her just a little, alongside herrah's deal with him, that is where she drew her spite.

"I'll finish healing then leave."

“I never defended him, only myself.” Lord Fool replies. But he goes to stand, clicking his mandibles quietly. “But fine, leave yourself to grow in the shadow of bugs you hardly knew, you’ve made it clear you want nothing more.” He puffs, and turns away to begin stepping out.

“If you go, don’t return to the Edge. You’ve rejected what’s here for you.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

“It’s something neither of us have control over. You treat yourself and your half-siblings unfairly by letting your heritage command your worldview this way.” Lord Fool narrows his eyes. Normally, he wouldn’t read a bug’s past unless necessary, but...

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. It only takes him a moment, it’s mostly what he expected, but he understands this fit better... he thinks. He doesn’t see a princess of two kingdoms before him, but a child that never had the chance to grow up properly. It reminds him of the many of his siblings that never even saw the sky before their parents ate them. And those that escaped his parents, well...

He grimaces, recalling what his newly-hatched self was guilty of.

“What I suppose I’m trying to say, here, is that every being has the capability to be more than their blood bonds. To hold someone’s heritage against them is to refuse them the opportunity to be anything but a product of circumstances beyond their control.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool blinks, then sighs. “Right. We are related by blood, but you are... correct, that that does not make us family.”

“I apologize for bringing him up. I won’t do so again.” He settles his chin in his palm again, gaze drifting off to the side momentarily before settling on Hornet again. “Here, a.. better introduction.” He flashes an awkward smile. “Virisec, Blackwyrm, Lord of Fools, a pleasure to meet you.”

He’s at least trying to mend the situation, but being social most certainly isn’t the wyrm’s strongsuit.

"Don't try. You've already ruined yourself, fool." Hornet responds, standing only for a moment before falling back into the water and catching herself with her arms. The water wasn't even that deep so she just splashed herself.

She pops something in one of her legs back into place and sits there in the center, facing away from lord fool.

Lord Fool narrows his eyes, having to bite back a sharp comment on one of the comparisons he had noticed. Cold, uncaring exterior. Just like her father. It makes Lord Fool miss him, and want to coddle her. He hates it.

Yet, a comment still slips from his maw “If you wish to play a game of condemnation due to relation... must I remind you we both share his blood, yet you’ll hold it against me? I won’t fight to be part of your life, it’s clear you don’t wish for that much, but if you’d damn me for simply being his sibling... you’re damning yourself and the rest of his broods by the same logic. Now quit straining yourself before you’re ready to move or you’ll never wind up on your feet any time soon.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool blinks, then sighs. “Right. We are related by blood, but you are... correct, that that does not make us family.”

“I apologize for bringing him up. I won’t do so again.” He settles his chin in his palm again, gaze drifting off to the side momentarily before settling on Hornet again. “Here, a.. better introduction.” He flashes an awkward smile. “Virisec, Blackwyrm, Lord of Fools, a pleasure to meet you.”

He’s at least trying to mend the situation, but being social most certainly isn’t the wyrm’s strongsuit.

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

“Being caught implies you don’t have a say in and of itself,” Lord Fool points out, leaning his thorax forwards to rest his chin in a claw and his elbow on the ground.

He chuffs. “Any other bug? Yes, it’s very entertaining. I love gore and violence and what have you, but... ah, how do I put this...”

“Do you know who I am, besides the Lord of Fools? I do know I passed when you were very young, and Hallownest’s higher ups never were too fond of me to begin with.”

“Do you assume I cared what the idiocracy of hallownest’s higher ups thought on any matter?” She looks at him, glancing, actually. “What does it matter who you are, Fool?”

“Idiocracy!” He laughs, shaking his head. “No, no, I don’t assume you cared, but it clearly influenced in the way I thought it did.”

Lord Fool curls his tail, scratching his back with the point of his stinger. “My little brother is your father,” he explains. “Making you my niece, of course... and unfortunately I have the unnatural instinct to protect my family.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

“Being caught implies you don’t have a say in and of itself,” Lord Fool points out, leaning his thorax forwards to rest his chin in a claw and his elbow on the ground.

He chuffs. “Any other bug? Yes, it’s very entertaining. I love gore and violence and what have you, but... ah, how do I put this...”

“Do you know who I am, besides the Lord of Fools? I do know I passed when you were very young, and Hallownest’s higher ups never were too fond of me to begin with.”

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool sits in silence until she removes her mask, and then he clears his throat to get her attention.

“We can repair your mask. How are you feeling?”

"Don't bother fixing it. The mask maker makes them better, anyways." She retorts, but in a very neutral, almost cold, fashion. How was she feeling? Well, everthing ached from her head to her legs. "I'm fine." She could handle this.

Lord Fool refrains from making any comment to compare her to her parents, though he already sees many similarities. “Alright, no mask repair, then. Fine is pretty impressive, considering the ass-kicking you just took.”

He shifts to sit down, tucking his four legs beneath himself. “I will let you know that trial wasn’t meant to happen the way it did, though that changes nothing. Had I known it were you there likely wouldn’t have been a trial at all... assuming my Fools dragged you here, that is. Damn idiots tend to do that.”

#ask to tag///#animal abuse m///#m!a: steel #asks #grey fools

“If you say so, boss!” The Fool quickly runs back to the Colosseum of Fools to avoid angering Lord Fool even more than he already is!

Lord Fool chuffs, and settles down in the ash again. If not for his intimidating appearance, he’d very much resemble a kicked animal.

A Fool has followed Lord Fool and has seen him trying to take the armor off. “You need help getting that stuff off of ya, boss?”

“I don’t need help,” Lord Fool snaps, clearly irritated about the entire situation more than the Fool.

#asks #grey fools #m!a: steel

The anon chunks taste like anonymity. (What a strange flavor.)

Lord Fool is unbothered, he just eats.

#asks #grey fools #m!a: steel

*attempts to use magic on Lord Fool* *the magic bounces off the armor and hits the anon* *the anon literally explodes to pieces*

The Blackwyrm only acknowledges this by shuffling over to eat the anon chunks.

#asks #grey fools #m!a: steel #Anonymous

The force of Lord Fool’s roar sends the anon flying through the air! Pretty impressive, but it’s to be expected from a wyrm like him.

Lord Fool ignores this entirely, too focused on the armor.

#asks #grey fools #m!a: steel #Anonymous

Out of the den, into a fight. With so many strikes from overwhelming numbers and enough blows to the head, she's forgotten why she came into this colossuem or why she was fighting. For her life, perhaps. She knew she needed to win. Hornet cleared wave after wave for some reason, some unknown reason. At this point, she was running on fumea and adrenalin. (woven-warrior)

@woven-warrior

“My Lord, you need to be overseeing this trial,” the voice of a sturdy Fool rouses Virisec from his slumber.

“And why is that? I’ve been working my spines off for a week straight getting things in order, and you dare tell me what I must do?” The drowsy Wyrm growls in reply.

“It’s... the Pale Wyrm’s daughter, she’s in the arena,”

Lord Fool is wide awake in an instant. He rolls over to rise to his feet, and shoulders his way past the Fool out of the den. He hauls himself up into the stands, to his throne, to look down over the arena.

Sure enough, there’s Hornet, awaiting the next wave of opponents. Lord Fool lowers his head and parts his jaws slightly. He can smell the adrenaline, he can see the apparent exhaustion in little signs no other bug would pay close enough attention to note.

The gate rattles, and Lord Fool straightens his posture. As some infected bug behind the portcullis roars, the Blackwyrm bellows loud enough to make the arena shake;

“ENOUGH!”

Countless Fools pause to look to their Lord, and silence falls as he lowers himself into the pit to approach his niece- the niece he had never gotten to formally meet before now. “Come along, out of the arena with you.” he speaks again, quieter now. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Lord Fool sits in silence until she removes her mask, and then he clears his throat to get her attention.

“We can repair your mask. How are you feeling?”