exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
HOLY SHIT THIS IS GLORIOUS!!!
@burdenoftheblade YOU ABSOLUTE GODSEND. I'M CRYING.
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
‘Delicate,’ was Antok’s first thought when he finally got a clear look at the stranger’s face, his features much more refined than the average Galra’s. ‘He looks like he could break if I so much as sneezed at him.’
However, the confidence and ease this stranger exuded told a much different story. Bolts of lightning stitched across the sky, creating a patchwork of light and dark, and all he did was gaze upward and make an almost-bored remark. The flashes illuminated Lotor’s face in stark relief, making them look as sharp as a freshly-honed blade. The smile that he gave Antok was one that could maim and kill just as easily as Antok’s own brute strength.
The large Galra frowned in answer to Lotor’s offer, but the other had already turned and started walking towards the hotel. ‘He expects to be obeyed,’ Antok noticed instantly. The stranger was so assured that he did not even bother to glance back to see if Antok was truly following.
The peeling sign for the hotel, hung over the door, creaked on its hinges as the storm buffeted it. Warm light spilled across the threshhold as Lotor opened the door and slipped inside. Antok, now alone, grimaced. Two desires warred in his head: curiosity and pride. The more prideful part of him seethed at the idea of answering this stranger’s summons like some common lapdog. The other… Just as he had been drawn to Kolivan’s unwavering confidence in his high ideals, Antok desired to know why this stranger was so self-assured.
He picked the middle ground. The large Galra stood out in the rain and watched the sign swing: back and forth, back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. When enough time had passed to create reasonable doubt of if he was going to come inside, Antok finally followed.
The moment he stepped inside his posture hunched a little, as if defensive. While this hotel was quaint to some, to Antok it was strange ground. He was used to sleeping in the open, gravel digging into his side until he grunted with pain, or curled up on hard bunks much too small for his massive body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had the luxury of a hotel, if ever.
The employee behind the desk stared at him as he entered, and the large Galra stared back. His tail wrapped around and Antok reached down to grab the thick tuft of fur in his hands. Splash. He wrung a surprising amount of water out before continuing to the bar. His gaze dared the Ulratian to question him; of course, he did not.
He stepped up behind the stranger and gave a quiet grunt. “If you say the word superlative again, I’m walking right back out the door,” he threatened. The large Galra settled in the chair next to the other, causing it to groan under his weight.
He held up a hand to grab the barkeep’s attention; they leaped into action, knowing better than to ignore Galra patrons even if there were others waiting. “Or at least let me get drunk enough that I don’t remember your saying it. Deal?”
Antrok drove a hard bargain.
The thump of the door the Prince had been waiting for came, and it drew a wry smile across his sharp features. He had made the assumption that his unexpected acquaintance would come, but he had not been sure-- but the sound of sodden footsteps had assured him. “Nice of you to join me.” Lotor glanced over his shoulder, brows raised, as he followed Antrok’s descent into a seat, rainwater still trailing down his own face from his dripping hair, before he gave a derisive snort at the warning not to use certain words again. “That, I’m not sure I can manage..” he grinned, “But the latter, I’m sure I can attend to.”
Raising his hand, he beckoned the bartender forwards, “Two of your strongest, please.” Without much acknowledgement the tender sauntered off, filling two mugs with.. well, that was anyone’s guess, but so long as it was strong, Lotor was willing to accept it. As soon as the mugs clanked noisily against the countertop (knotted and grainy with ages, he noted), he pushed the money forward without a word, assuming that this particular barkeep intended to pocket whatever was left over as a tip. “Bottoms up..”
Raising his glass, he took a tentative sip to query the taste of the drink, before he found it was remarkably pleasing- bitter, yet with subtle cinnamon undertones, and just a hint of sweetness. Honey, perhaps? That lent itself to a heady gulp in place of his previous cautionary approach. Thanks to this, several minutes of silence had passed, and he found himself starved for conversation (since curiosity burned so deeply inside him), so he shifted, one arm draped lazily against the bar while the other rested against his thigh, “So, if it’s not too bold for me to ask, what brings you here?”
Another sip, and a courtly dance around the real reason for this conversation-- what brings a half-blood here? “It’s not every night you see one of the Galra enjoying the simple pleasures of nature, alone, and away from the rest..” A wicked smile worked its way onto his lips, “But then, who am I to talk?”
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
“ Feel free to belittle my machinations once you have value greater than that of a negligible pawn, Lotor. “ There is no trace of respect in the tone that hums silently through the air between them; no ounce of loyalty to the prince or his father’s feckless Empire, and mostly certainly not even a breath of concern for the other’s growing agitation. Even if his mind still swam with words of betrayal and vicious intent; now hidden away from the prince’s grasp, Kova dismissed them with the same ease he tossed aside every wayward scream and whisper that constantly flooded his innards (his powers were impressive, but never did they sleep, and, now, never did the feline that caged them did either).
Inhuman, but not quite humble enough to be entirely animalistic either, lips pulled downward with far too much awareness for the little, eerie monster to possess, when the prince tossed out the weak insult; hardly impressed by the pettiness the young ruler was displaying (not that Kova was acting in a higher fashion). “ How childish “ he cooed with equal spitefulness; acute, sharp eyes almost appearing as if they had rolled about within his skull as the comment slipped through his raging mind. “But I suppose, with you being a child, you couldn’t be capable of anything more. “
Had he been capable of groaning, he would have when that dreaded curiosity had wiggled its way into the prince’s words. /his fur prickles and a low hiss (that is almost more akin to a growl) begins to vibrate in the very pit of his dry throat. “I wasn’t aware there was even a single reason to like your father. “ His claws extend outwards; fangs slowly appearing beneath marred flesh as his jaw pulls back. “ If you’re going to waste my time by trying to pry into a time you do not belong to, perhaps it would be best for me to allow this traitor to remove you. “ Kova was not one to speak so freely about the past or its events, and it showed; hostility had crept into his intense gaze and seeped all the way down to the marrow of his bones.
“ I couldn’t care less about your ignorant father’s pitiful Empire, “ The growl that had been isolated to his throat had crawled into his mouth to rattle against his tongue. His lips pulling so far back that the rotten interior of his age-old mouth was visible, and his fur bristling so clearly that it made his bony frame look alive. And at the sound of the name that rolled off of the prince’s tongue like a prize to be won, the feline’s yellow eyes turned red with the rage that trembled throughout his small, twisted body; sparks beginning to ignite upon his mangy fur.
“ You understand nothing, brat. ” But still the anger seemed to die down, even as the words slipped through his mind because this child knew nothing. “ You may not like the answer I can give you, but your stupidity is tiresome. “ He wrinkles his nose at the newfound closeness of the prince, but doesn’t take a step back (if the prince angers him again, though, he might find himself with one less eye in that empty skull of his). “ Hagger was once an Altean alchemist, back then, I knew her as Honerva. Zarkon had once been an ally of Altea, and when a comet crashed into his home planet, she had been sent there to study it. I was simply a stray cat that made a home in her lab. “ He eases back onto his haunches, eyes remaining fixed on Lotor as he allows the memories to take the form of thoughts the other could understand.
“But she took me in. As time went on, she discovered a new source of energy from the crater the comet had caused, and she believed she could harness it. You know that energy as Quintessence, and I was her first test subject. “ Light shines from his eyes, as bright and blindly as it had been when he had allowed Lotor witness to the thoughts that flood his ship, but instead of words, an image is formed; one of a young woman on a long lost planet with a charming smile and life in her eyes. “ Zarkon was an eyesore even then, he fell in love with Honerva, and the two married. But Honerva become obsessed with her work, and the constant exposure to this energy source drained her. She should have perished, but your wretched father lead that damnable Voltron into the crater to save her; poisoning the both of them with over-exposure to Quintessence and corrupting their minds because he was too much a coward to let her die. ”
He blinks, bringing to an end the images he had displayed for the prince. “ Hagger should have died long ago, but your worthless father cursed her to an eternity of endless suffering because he was selfish. If you did not trust me before, know now that my desire is to free my master from the poison that man brought upon her. I will take her life myself, boy, but not before I see your father perish. “
A child. Oh, how Kova sounded like his accursed master (or was that former master, Lotor was still so unsure), but the insult rankled him. His lip twisted in a one-sided grimace-- how, how did this horrible beast manage to raise his ire so easily? “I am no child. I am the leader of this Empire, and I am more than capable of it-- if I was not, you would not be here, begging favours by way of paltry information, cat.” How the lies tripped so easily off his tongue, almost saccharine as he tried to find some way to stem the uncertainty that followed the visions, the possibilities, and the Faustian Pact that he had entered into..
Curiosity took him back, no questions asked, as Kova divulged this history of the Witch, pale brows furrowing in interest as he listened (finally silent and ignorant to the constant admonishing) while he assimilated the information- and all in-between. ‘Life in her eyes,’ so, the feline truly did care for Haggar, and Lotor knew it would be his only bargaining chip n their exchange.. But an advantage none the less. The images, they had returned, a different woman to the one he knew, and somewhere, deep inside, and long since barricaded, felt a slight twinge of emotion- he too knew what it was to become something else at the hands of his Father.
Lotor did not balk this time (perhaps it had to do with the dull ache, reminding him of his last jump from the shared consciousness, perhaps not), instead he let the scene play in his head, like a slow capture of a flower wilting, before he cleared his throat softly. Finally, they had found an accord. “I believe you.”
They would end Zarkon’s reign together.
No, it was not a welcome agreement, but a necessity none the less. Lotor shifted backward, raising his own pale gaze to meet with the felines piercing one, resting on his haunches as his teeth dragged across his bottom lip in silent consideration. “I imagine we can come to some form of arrangement, and, loathe as I may be, I will allow you to deal my Father,” the word was twisted with animosity again, “The final blow, if it means that I will gain all I desire.” ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ he thought idly. “However, we both know this will be no simple task.”
With the quirk of one eyebrow, Lotor continued, “Haggar is always watching. Damned as she may be, for as little as I assume she knows, she is still devoted to my Father. She will continue to be so. This cannot be some bullish, unassuming assassination. But then.. what is why you have come to me..” His sharp features were split with a wicked smile, “You know I understand the workings of the Galra, without their leader, their forethought can be.. questionable. Battle, honour. That is what they know.. and that, is the kind of attempt she would expect,” there was a moment where his stomach churned at the prospect of entering into such a dangerous entreaty with the damnable beast, “I know better.”
@thewitchofice Thank you Hun! She's so tiny and perfect and I just hate not spending every minute with her lol.
Ooc;; I wanted to pop in and say I'll be back soon everyone, but I started in my new job this week, and, more importantly, my beautiful, gorgeous goddaughter was born so I've been spending a lot of time with the little bitty boo getting to know her! See you at the weekend! Xx
ooc;; Gonna attempted to be back asap guys, but health is kicking my arse recently, and between work (I can’t take any more days off for illness, despite needing hospitalisation A LOT) and needing to rest getting replies out is a bit of a push. Fingers crossed I pick up in the next few days. x
Do you like 10,000-year old lady who can still kick your ass and make you question everything about life? Well then, follow HAGGER (the real MVP of the Galra Empire). You won’t regret it maybe! So since I’m too lazy to spend hours making a fancy promo, please like or reblog this if you’re interested in following a Space Witch.
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
highalchemy
Can anyone do me a favor and like / reblog if they’re interested in interacting with a Haggar / Honerva of Voltron: Legendary Defender, so I can get this blog out there? (°◡°♡).:｡
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
Just a PSA
Reblog if you don’t ignore rps and asks but sometimes it takes you a while to think of a response, or you only have time to answer a question or two before doing other things.
“Come on, then! Hit me!”
Rolling his neck as though to ease mastoidal tension, Lotor’sinitial response to Zethrid’s challenge was a very obvious scowl. Of course, itwas imperative that they trained, that they allhoned their abilities and never let them slip- but he was of the opinion he haddrawn the short straw in being paired off to spar his strongest General. “That’seasy for you to say..” He muttered, fingers flexing before he coiled them intofists, “I believe you may have the advantage here, Zethrid.”
His cool gaze raked over her, trying to find a weak point,something to use as a tactical benefit, but he seemed to be coming up short. With a grimace, and a deepexhale, the Prince finally resigned himself to attack, and see just how far he could push himself. He darted forwards(speed, perhaps, would be on his side), before the idea struck him. He was almost at Zethrid now, drawing one arm back asif to strike a blow to her gut, before he dropped, one leg straightening as theother bent towards his chest, while one arm steadied him in his skid, as heaimed instead for her leg.
Using her own strength against her seemed a much more productivemeans of attack.
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
The steady beating of the rain along with the loud pouring sound of the run off onto the floor was more than enough to cover the quiet paps of his bare feet hitting the wet beams and crumbling parts of the walls as he descended to the ground. Silently he crept up behind the man. Large, golden eye studied him from behind as he slowly approached. Klarion didn’t get to close, he didn’t want to put himself in danger, if there was any.
“I’m listening.” He finally spoke. His sodden tail flicking a good amount of water at the prince’s back as it defensively curled around its owners front. Thinking on it he’d never seen a Galra that looked quite like the guy before him. Just like he’d never seen a Galra as tiny as himself. His abilities could be used to someones advantage, especially considering nobody would come to him if they were seeking strength. He was more of a pick pocket that would go unnoticed type.
Perhaps he would have started, had he not been so accustomed to the silent approach of another creature-- Lotor had spent enough time around Narti and Kova to acclimatise to that. His brows edged upwards, smile growing in triumph before he turned slowly, arms shifting to fold across his chest as he glanced over Kalrion with a measured, curious stare. “Aren’t you something,” he mused, almost to himself, “You would fit in well with my Generals.”
Lightening split the sky again, illuminating the Prince’s harp features while he spoke, “As stated, I am here to make you an offer. I need someone of your abilities,” he laid a delicate stress on the word, “I, like you, am not like most Galra. I keep elite company, and while they are intelligent, stealthy, strong.. I need someone who can go completely unnoticed. Who can slip past soldiers and get me the information I need. What do you think?”
Whatever mission Lotor had in mind for her, she was prepared. She could hear the sounds of the thriving planet and see the lush land through Kova’s eyes. She stood motionless, slightly behind the Prince as she awaited his orders. This would be a mission she would complete alone, that much was obvious. The lack of her fellow generals could only mean she was going solo. Though that did not phase her. Narti was more than capable of managing on her own.
She turned towards the sound of Lotor speaking her name, her face void of expression as usual. The orders were vague and to the point. With a simple nod, she left his side towards the dwelling place of the planet’s leaders. She moved in silence, maneuvering in the shadows to remain unseen. Kova could be felt gripping her shoulder as she moved. As she ran, she relied greatly on the eyes of her cat to show her the way.
In a matter of minutes, she was there. Sneaking into the palace had been far too easy for Narti. She was right there, hiding in the same room as the King and Queen, and not a soul knew. The two were blissfully unaware of the impending deaths. Now was as good of a time as any to move in for the kill. Soon enough she would be returning to Lotor with victory.
Watching Narti go, Lotor allowed himself a triumphant smile. The plan was perfect, and the outcome would be worth the spilled blood in the end- not that t would weigh heavily on his conscience. It never did. He had become renowned of late for sparing lives, but it was all to provide a tactical advantage, nothing more. One hand raised, tapping a small spot on his armour that held a communicator-- the only means he had to tract her now. He could see enough, of course, from the vantage of his ship which he had returned to after his General had vanished to do her duty-- but once she was inside the palace, she was lost to him. “Make it quick Narti, and leave. We don’t need to tarry.”
He sank into his seat, icy gaze locked on the multiple monitors as he clasped his hands together to rest his lips against them. It was a waiting game now-- but he had faith in his General. After all, Narti’s stealth was unparalleled, and she had never failed him yet. But time was ticking on. “Narti?” His brow furrowed slightly as he watched the palace windows, the doors, anywhere and everywhere she could make an exit, “Get it over with.”
exiledprincelotor-blog reblogged
Atlas saw something unholy in the GALRA ahead of her. Perhaps it was due to his GALRA nature that made him appear heartless, cruel, full of hate. Fighting this GALRA would be like fighting AEOLUS, it was obvious by how he held his blade, his stature, and the way he spoke; it was a fearless attitude that strived this male.
↳ 火 “ I owe JACOPO my life. –I won’t let you harm him. ” 火 ↵
Weighing her options, ATLAS’s grip on her gauntlets was tight; fingers curling into her palm–unsure how to take on the GALRA with the sword. An accord between two species typically meant some shift in power, or perhaps in this moment; she had the power to choose whether she was taken, or him. Was a GALRA really giving her the power to do so? Who was this GALRA that through around so much power?
↳ 火 “ –JACOPO stays, and I go ? Is that what you want ? ” 火 ↵
“Not the quickest assimilator, I see,” Lotor grinned, head cocking as he shifted his sword slightly, catching the light of the pale metal. “Yes, I will offer you a trade, this one walks free,” again the blade moved, jerking briefly towards Jacpo’s neck, “and you come with me.” He felt something, a gut instinct, a quick rush of adrenaline that said this one would be worth more than the man currently under the sentry’s watch- and if she proved herself to be worthless, he would have no need for her regardless. Win, win.
Lowering his sword, Lotor pressed the tip of the blade into the ground at his feet, bracing both hands on the hilt as he allowed Atlas to consider her response. “If you care for him so much, it should be an easy decision. Regardless, I now know that he is of some value to you, and vice versa. I would like to have words with you pertaining to that-- what do you say?”
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While waiting for a response, the young paladin quickly tried to think of all her options she had at the moment. As soon as she tried to run he would then chase after her attacking her while she tried to flee. Since there was nowhere to hide in the middle of space, she couldn’t use the Green Lion’s cloaking ability as he would easily be able to track her and the cloak wouldn’t last long enough for her to get too far away from him. No matter what her options did not look good as there was no easy solution for this situation.
Upon hearing his voice, her body stiffened as she felt very uneasy at the moment. If he was able to figure out that she was the brains of Voltron, then how much did he truly know about her and the others? Had he figured out everyone’s individual weaknesses? It worried her as he knew so much about her while she hardly knew anything about him. “Yes, you are correct.”
He could, of course, take the shot, but the capabilities of the Lion were far superior to his own craft. It would be unwise to put it to the test. Instead, Lotor decided, best to continue the conversation, to see exactly what, if anything, he could get the Paladin to divulge. Her inflection already told him that his words were ringing true, perhaps that would be his victory from his encounter.
“Well, isn’t that nice to know,” he offered, tongue tasting his lips slowly, “Let’s try again then- I have a feeling that my Father might have done more damage to your little group than you would like the Universe to know. After all, the Black Lion seemed to vanish for quite some time- and there’s more. Something.. off, about you all. Something has changed. What is it that has went amiss amongst the Paladin’s of Voltron..?”
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“But of course, my lord.”
She followed behind him without a word. Golden eyes were dull as she looked around the corridor and then the meeting room. Certainly different than the last time she’d been somewhere like this. Nicer, though, definitely. If she had been assigned here in reality, she wouldn’t be complaining.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed how weak the paladins are after facing against your father, yes? This is something anyone who observes closely enough could tell, certainly…but to hit a bit harder, perhaps exposing certain weaknesses would befit a way to break them further? I’ve gathered…quite a bit on those subjects.”
“Have you, indeed,” Lotor queried, a hint of disbelief edging into his tone as he watched her along the length of his nose from a position of unrifled superiority. He had, of course, noticed the lack of cohesion between the Paladin’s himself, but this woman, whom he had never met, and claimed herself to have once been an adviser to his father set him on edge.
There was something about her story, and the tid-bits of information she was offering that didn’t seem right.
“Well then,” he continued, flashing her a dazzling smile, “Do go on. Regale me with your fast knowledge on those subjects as you so eloquently put it-- I have plenty of time.”
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Splash. Antok swerved into the puddle where he had caught a glimpse of his own reflection, trampling the sight beneath his feet. The cold water seeped through the thin fabric of his shoes and soaked his fur. ‘Just keep going. Don’t look,’ he thought, the words circling over and over in his mind.
Just when the large Galra thought he was going to slip by unnoticed, a sharp inhale stopped him dead in his tracks.
A shudder racked Antok’s massive body. ‘Just the chill,’ he told himself. ‘Nothing else. You are not ashamed.’ The new mantra started to play on repeat through his mind; he might just believe it if he said it often enough. But it took more than words to prove such things. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Antok turned back to face this stranger.
Posture straight, arms crossed, eyes forward. The eyes were the most important of all, making sure to meet the other’s gaze as if there wasn’t any question of his right to. The stranger’s features were a dim haze of purple, hard to see in any detail through the growing torrent of rain.
A flash of lighting tore through the night sky, just long enough to sharpen these stranger’s features for a moment. Ochre, not yellow, met Antok’s unwavering gaze.
But he could make out little else. Unconsciously, without thought or intention, Antok’s third eye had had squeezed shut before he turned to face Lotor, almost as if he was trying to hide it. It left his vision just blurry enough that Antok wasn’t certain of anything he saw, his mind continuing to blame this fact on the heavy rain.
Not that it mattered much. Antok’s tail twitched, the thick fur dragging across the concrete and landing in the puddle with a soft plop. His three-fingered hand wrapped around his elbow in a death-grip. There was plenty of other things to set him apart.
At first the words washed over him without understanding or meaning. Words that aren’t heard cannot damage; he is a soldier, he is Galra. ‘No one can question that,’ he thought. It took him a moment to realize that no one was.
Answers delayed, he finally said, “No, no I’m not. And neither are you.” This time it was a statement, not a question. Antok’s third eye opened just enough to squint at Lotor. He leaned forwards to get a better look. “I don’t know anything about pots or kettles, but I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone else out here.”
The ‘Anyone else like me’ was implied.
Narrowing his eyes against the continuous beat and haze of the rain, Lotor squinted slightly at- yes, at the Galraen mix. There was no doubt about it, his build, his frame, everything spoke of his own heritage, yet there was something more, something different (not unlike himself) that unearthed a curiosity in the Prince that he hadn’t felt for some time. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widened as the streetlight glistened off a third ochre orb. Fascinating. “It’s hardly the weather for sightseeing,” he countered, well aware of the implications, “I didn’t predict company either.”
Suddenly, a blinding flash erupted across the skyline, drawing Lotor’s gaze upwards as the sky above them swirled and crackled, “An electrical storm..” The words seeped out, more to himself than Antok, before he shrugged nonchalantly as though it was no more than a mild inconvenience-- when it fact, it felt akin to a disaster. He was stranded, his ship grounded, until the storm subsided- but, he supposed, it offered an opportunity he had not encountered in some time. To speak to someone one of a birth akin to his own. A mixed-blood Glaraen. “It appears we’re stuck here.”
With a devilish smile and a nod of his head, he gestured towards the closest building- an old hotel, dilapidated and unwelcoming, but the perfect place to hide in plain sight. Of course, with Galra blood he would not be questioned in this place, but it was always best to avoid the masses. He didn’t particularly wish to draw attention to himself (or worse again pull rank) should he run into any of the stationed soldiers. “Maybe shelter and a drink might be in order? The superlative pleasure of a rainstorm has worn off on me, I think.”
With the offer left hanging between them, Lotor made his way towards the building, after all, a room might be required if the storm decided to linger, and he imagined that a place like this would offer some of the best home brewed drinks available. It wasn’t cosy but it was welcome. As soon as he stepped inside, the thrum of the rain died down to a patter against the windows, while water rolled down his sharp features and pooled at his feet while he looked around to get his bearings. He ignored the check-in for now, and the particularly Ulratian behind the desk, instead wandering over to the bar and waiting to see if he heard the door thump closed for a second time..