[Xanth]

OOC: Set on Erimis 3 (3rd July), two days after the vanguard have travelled to Acantha.

Xanth was livid. Tooth-achingly, innocent-smitingly liv.id.

“Dananka. A word, if you please.” Her telepathic voice was a multi-layered cake of saccharine sweet icing and sticky cherries over the top of a seething, purple sponge so dark it was nearly black. Her wings, in full view because her fury was burning away all of her concentration, mirrored the rage that simmered in her eyes and dripped black spots. Her form, meant to be the same golden-haired human that she had worn during their last meeting, was as close to the reality as she would ever allow herself to get.

She stalked the marble length of her throne room, images flashing across the polished walls of the Badlands and the destruction in her beloved forests. She had watched, her anger growing exponentially with each life taken. A deep crack rode the width of her shattered throne as evidence of her melt-down mere moments before. The broad hall was devoid of life: Midnight, Faroah and the imps had all scattered to the far corners of her temple realm. Even the vibrant green vines and the pretty pink cyprus flowers that wound around the marble pillars had withered and turned black.

“NOW, Danae.” Her fingers arced like claws.

[Dananka]

Danae smiled. He had heard Xanth the first time around, clearly too. Despite the seething rage directed at himself, Danae took his time in acknowledging her words. He would respond when he pleased, and not a moment before. It was remarkable, how bold the female Tanakheimein had grown since leaving the Father's sphere of influence. Dangerous, but also very amusing to watch. Xanth was such a child, still.

It was a mark of how innate telepathy was to them; the two Tanakheimein's voices were of a distinct dichtomy. Danae's was full of a feline's sloth in the afternoon sun in contrast to Xanth's furious urgency. He could feel the tightness of Xanth's jaw, while even the slightest curling of his lips had been fully expressed in a monosyllabic response.

"Hm?"

[Xanth]

Mind implosion commence.

Danae's sheer unconcern was almost enough for her to throw their pact out of the nearest arched window and storm into Acantha, treaty be damned. Xanth stomped a foot; more cracks appeared in the marble floor. Siphoning some of her rage into the jagged chunks of polished stone, she arched both slender eyebrows, squeezed her eyes almost closed and pulled up the corners of her mouth as the temple trembled around her.

“Now, please, Dananka.”

Their treaty forbade either of them from stepping foot on the other's territory. Xanth had insisted on it to ensure he would not do to Elysia what he had done to Acantha. Reopening the portal after so many millennia had been her idea, an experiment of sorts to see if her Children could handle more responsibility. She had also tired of seeing the neglect Danae's own creations suffered and had thought a connection with her own worlds would improve their lives while still keeping Danae himself at bay.

Her temple, however, was built in its own pocket realm separated from her other creations. She could visit with the drunkard here without risking innocent lives (he would no doubt prove too lazy to bother with her menagerie unless she drew his attention to them when he was mad).

None of that would stop her going over there to drag him back here by a haft of his long, silver hair if he did not come to her as she had asked so nicely. “I have words for you.” And a nice ball of molten rage welling at her feet.

[Dananka]

Danae's smile widened as he delighted in Xanth's anger. Nothing came close to this delicious amusement she provided him with, not even his Children's groveling worship. As much as he would have liked to continue being nonchalant however, Xanth's restraint had been tested enough already. Danae was aware that he was walking a thin line, and his little victory had been sufficiently satisfying. For now.

"Yes, yes. Patience, please."

And then he was in Xanth's temple, dressed in armour of an unnaturally bright silver. Its design was intricate and seemed to be formed, impossibly so, from a single sheet of metal. Danae surveyed the destruction about himself, raising an eyebrow in a mimicry of surprise.

"Whatever is the matter, Xanth?"

[Xanth]

Xanth's lips turned white and half-moon shapes appeared in her palms. She had her back to the drunkard when he finally arrived, so she glanced up toward the cosmos in search of patience. Lilac gossamer and satin swished around her ankles when she finally turned.

“You know exactly "whatever the matter is", Dananka.” Her voice strained over the mimicry, the lines around her mouth drawn tight. Sparks of power floated and flitted around her feet on the draft coming from the broken marble. Her wings twitched and the air spasmed so the sparks moved faster.

His armour did not go unnoticed. It was a telling statement coming from a man who had created not one but two separate species to fight his battles for him just so he would not have to get his hands dirty. That he had taken time over an ostentatious design and moulded it so carefully from that particular metal was in itself a message, and it did nothing to abate her anger.

“I did not propose our "open door policy" so you could have your brutes take over my forest.”

[Dananka]

It seemed that Xanth had a poor understanding understanding of the terms she had proposed, and of the younger races whose origins she had played a part in. Danae tilted his head upon hearing her words, laughter breaking free from his throat without restraint. In that moment he sounded exactly as his moniker entailed, but his eyes were clearer than a true drunkard's. When he finished laughing Danae smiled, without the slightest sign of having been chastised.

"So that I could have them do so? You flatter me with your words, Xanth. My people have acted completely of their own volition. I on the other hand, have personally done absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. Feel free to have vengence upon those who are actually responsible if you wish."

Being well-aware that the remainder of the group of Malaki had long returned to Acantha, Danae made his response a taunt and trap in one.

[Xanth]

Well, that just... stumped her.

Xanth opened her mouth to launch into the diatribe she had prepared, then looked at the lazy man again. She surveyed his expression, paying close attention to the glint of humour in his clear (hah! Those eyes had never been truly clear) blue eyes and the twist of his full lips. His laughter grated on her nerves; she did so hate to be laughed at. His tendency to do so had played a large role in their separation, and he was still doing it.

“You know very well I cannot follow those vile creatures into your realm.” She had considered it. Oh, she had considered it! Even now, she was tempted to scorn the treaty she herself had devised to teach the Malaki a lesson. Trust Danae to create a race of guardians too in love with their job to stop even long after they had been forgotten and abandoned.

Besides that, only one of the Malaki responsible had survived. One or two of the sparks drifting from her wings twinged red with pride at that thought. But Danae had made it clear — if she had needed any reminders — that navigating their pact would take more thought than her rage would allow.

Her wings faded back to a medium purple as her anger faded into mere frustration. “This is what you wanted, is it not?” She had wondered at his easy capitulation when they struck their deal. She had tried to word it so that he would see the benefits to his own world and pleasures, rather than only what she and hers would get from it. She had been prepared for him to use the open portal to take action against her, but she had not thought the Malaki would be so quick to destroy. And she still believed Danae somehow responsible. “You never had any intention of brokering a real peace between us. Using your creations like this is foul, Dananka.”

[Dananka]

Danae studied the female Tanakheimein before him. The hues of Xanth's wings were like the winds of the Badlands, shifting from one colour to another to matching her ever-changing mood. He continued smiling when Xanth redoubled her efforts to lay the blame on him. The expression on his pale face was less mirthful now however, the playful lilt on his words that had been present before missing as well as he gave his reply.

"What of it, Xanth? This was your deal, your terms. You didn't want me in Elysia. Then my affairs are mine alone. The time for sharing between us has long passed, and share the blame I will not. These consequences are of your own making. Free will, Xanth; she is a harsher mistress you -or I- ever will be. Until the day you realise that free will isn't what you want it to be, feel free to continue glowering at me if it makes you feel better."

Danae gave Xanth little chance of even doing so however, because he was gone.

[Xanth]

A deep and hungry rumble powered through Xanth's temple realm. She clenched her fists tight and snarled at the spot Danae had vacated. She did not even try to call him back. He had had his say and attempting to continue the "discussion" would only hand him the victory.

Xanth's eyes glowed black, then crimson. The aura dripping from her wings turned blood red. Power cracked through the marble, seeping out of the pocket realm and sizzling like lightning through any and every route that connected it to Elysia and Nirim and Zanarya. Every world she had made trembled violently with the fury and frustration of a twelve thousand year old self-proclaimed goddess not getting her way.