#rugarammor bonerender

So Rugara absolutely DETESTS flying and keeps an iron lid on both the bubbling panic and the contents in her stomach. It doesn't help that her current proto-dragon is an asshole that tries to scrape her off the saddle on every other cliffside.

She's named them Puke. Or any other fury of orcish swears that come to mind at the moment as she white knuckles the holds.

Dessa - Warsaw

The gilded hall shook with the force of it. An animalistic bellow. Loud and full of rage. The owner’s voice was male and very much unmistakable: Hellscream. A heartbeat later there was another crash and fighting began.

“Get her into the room.” Rugara’s voice dipped deep, covered with a thin layer of ice. The muscles in her jaw twitched even as invisible hackles rose along her neck and spine. 

“I can look after myself.”  There was defiance in those glowing eyes and a snarl building on those painted lips.The orcess gave her assignment a levelled look, eye-to-eye, as they both stood at the same height, even as the draenai’s horns arched and curled up, away from her crested head and artfully done-up hair.

 “I am sure you can, Aleeria, however, my job is to guard you. Take precautions. If the lines have not been cut, call the police.” Rugara nodded to the coal rimmed wide-eyed human and tuxedoed mok’nathal and they took the Eredar’s elbows, steering her around into the safety of the reinforced room, her tail flicked with annoyance. Gold-tipped hoves making more noise than necessary. Rue watched this ‘fit’ a moment longer, a smirk hiding behind tusk before closing the door behind them.

So much for a peaceful end to a party. So much for an easy job tonight. She looked down at herself and groaned. Lace, metal, and beads hung off her thick frame in such a way she felt like a dappled grey goddess. It was so sumptuous and glittery and so feminine that she felt the urge to strangle the first idiot who crossed her. She spent too much money just for this look to be ruined. If not by a fight certainly by a retreat.

Rue balanced and pulled off her heels slowly, one by one, calculating as her sharp ears caught the battle below in the castle’s ballroom. The Conglomerate would hold their own. There were many well decorated and distinguished fighters in those rooms below. Rue dropped her metallic heels by a large, ornate vase as she investigated her environment and then stood sentry in bare feet.

Seconds seemed to drag into minutes. More bellowing. A man screamed as a wet sound of bone cracked. Heavy footfalls came up the stone stairs, Rugara turned slowly to regard the flickering shadows before their owner’s rounded the corner. 

What rounded the corner were not three male orcs, but something in their shape - large, green, and foreboding. A ruby red sheen flickered like twin pinpoints of fire in her direction and she felt her body go cold. They were Corrupted and she did not recognize them. She sucked a breath in and realized she was baring her teeth.