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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Oh Flamevein, dear, care to chat?
    #1

    The smell of smoke and flame reminds me of my son. And it's not that I'm nostalgic or, you know, angry that he left with barely a "see you later, ma", but I don't instantly feel happy when the scent of soot fills the air. It's possibly the multitude of times I caught Kush in the act of playing with fire where it was going to cause trouble. Old mothering habits die hard. Still, I follow to see where it leads.

    Not to mention, I also don't want some idiot burning down my fucking home. And that means my idiot too, the dear boy. I actually like it here, and I intend to be here until the lights go out. 

    I find the source near a copse of trees. I do my best to land gracefully but that has never been my strong point and I am so far from giving a fuck about how I look. It was never tops on my agenda, and I'm not about to start now. Still, the stumble run I do when I land from flying is bound to be a bit of an ice breaker.

    It also has the benefit of making you feel like I'm not a threat. And that's nice. I prefer to appear average. Totally and completely average. Just your average immortal mind reading mare.

    Oh, and the wings. I have those, too. Big, bulky, magnificent (in my humble opinion) hawk's wings. I generally tuck them to my side when walking or running, but the wing span on these babies is monstrous. I admit to being a tad bit conceited about them.

    I trot nearer and nicker a greeting. We're just pleasant ponies having a chat, aren't we?

    "Please don't tell me you just want to watch the world burn, Flamevein. Otherwise we won't be friends, and I would so enjoy being friends." I grin wickedly, and wait to see where this conversation will lead."Gallows."

    Gods luck, this will be a fascinating diversion.

    G A L L O W S
    We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.


    #2

    Its been too quiet in the Valley as of late, and you know what they say about idle hands. They’re the devils playground after all. That’s maybe even more true in his case. Boredom doesn’t suit him, he is not built for idleness. Those around him do not fair well if he has no outlet for his…energy. But his flames serve a purpose beyond relieving him boredom (they barely do that these days). He’s found most horses are leery of fire, whether it be their natural instincts or the fact that they’re just stupid. Either way, fire makes a useful boundary. Not that they had anything worth breeching the boundary for these days, but he liked to think he was doing something useful in any case. But usefulness was not his ultimate goal in life. Power, and the rewards that came with power…now those were things he strived for. He was a son of the Dark God, gifted with gasoline in his veins and a comet for a heart. One could maybe say it was his destiny.

    He hears her long before he sees her, the sound of feathers pushing air is quite unmistakable. Though he does admire those gifted with flight, it is a power that lacks a certain sort of grace. Now his power, his power is full of finesse and unpredictability. Admittedly, he is somewhat biased. Nevertheless his blue eyes track her through the sky, that queer nebula blaze barely peeking through the tangled mass of black forelock. Finally, the mare damn near crashes into the earth and the gasoline-veined stallion raises a brow above his blue eyes. “Please tell me you’ll work on your landing skills, and I’ll lie straight through my teeth just to make you happy.” he said easily, cocking a hind leg in an ultimate display of indifference. He’d always had a lust for power, a certain need to taste it heavy on his tongue. From the very moment of his birth, he had been searching for it. If the world had to burn for him to get a sip, then they’d better learn to extinguish fire. “What’s so bad about seeing the world burn? Plenty in these lands deserve it. Ashes to ashes and all that bullshit.” He’d been quiet so long, it was almost strange to hear his voice. It had a certain raspy quality, probably an affect on smoke inhalation. And there was a certain something that hid beneath his words, the wolf carefully disguised as a sheep.



    flamevein
    i set fire to the rain
    "Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. What I've tasted of desire I'll hold with those who favor fire." - R. Frost
    #3

    I would be afraid of fire, if my child's mane hadn't suddenly burst into flames a mere week after he was born. To this day I don't know where he got the flames (newborn's minds are mostly pictures and his pictures made no sense) but I quickly got used to getting burned. Flame bites and nips, it serves a purpose and it can utterly destroy. But I don't fear it.

    Then again, do you really think I'm going to admit what I'm afraid of?

    I grin at his easy response. Some horses take themselves entirely too serious. I am not one of those. And little Flamey, it seems, is not either. Oh, he wants the usual power and destruction and all that, but he's not confining himself to the image of one man.

    "You'd do that for little ol' me? Imagine that, a man promising to lie to me. That's a switch."

    As much as I appreciate the offer to lie to me, you won't get far. But it will be adorable to watch you try. Enjoyable, even.

    "They might deserve it, but where's the fun in everything going up in flames? You'd have all the fun, darling, and the rest of would get to watch? Besides, silly stallion, if you burn everything, what will you eat?"

    I recognize the predator in him, just as I recognize the stallion who gave him life. Cut from similar molds, the two of them. Full of a lust for power. Makes me wonder if this one has his father's regular old lust.

    "Did you get plenty of action this season? I've heard that fucking can be a great way to relieve boredom and pass the time. You know, if you get tired of trying to go up in a misguided blaze of glory."

    I cock my hind leg, mirroring his stance. I want to find out about this one, and maybe see if we can be of use to one another. And to the Valley, who, after all, matters more than either of us.

    G A L L O W S
    We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.


    #4

    Idle hands were the devils playground, and his had been far too idle as of late. Dangerous things happened when he was left to his own devices and left to make his own amusement. True, he should be out recruiting and mocking and doing all of that other kingdom bullshit that was expected of him. But for now he was testing the limits of his powers, honing his skills and building his strength. If she couldn’t see that, well then that wasn’t his fucking problem. Fire always has a purpose. Sometimes its for good, but that’s never the case when Flamevein is behind its creation. He is not good or kind by any stretch of the imagination, nor has he ever claimed to be. Unless claiming to be good got him something he wanted, well then he was perfectly content to wear that mask.

    “There’s plenty of fun to be had by burning things. The smell of smoke, screams and whimpers. Music to my ears. I didn’t come to an evil kingdom to play with the fucking bunnies.” he says sarcastically, rolling his shoulders lazily. He isn’t particularly muscular, doesn’t need to be. His powers come from his mind, not from how much brawn he can throw around. Muscles don’t mean shit in the face of fire and flame. “I’m not stupid enough to burn everything and everyone. I can find usefulness in the most unassuming of places. Even whores have their uses, even if its just for the night.” he says with a smirk. “Since you brought up the subject. Wondering if you missed out on something?” His smirk widened now, and with a toss of his head he lit his mane ablaze. At the same time his tail became flames, as well as the fire that climbed his legs. They caressed him like a lover would, and he was hard pressed not to shiver from the pleasure of it. “I don’t like to think of it as misguided. Ambitious, maybe, but never misguided.” And as a final whorah, the fire rose in his eyes. No one could ever accuse him of being subtle.


    flamevein
    i set fire to the rain
    "Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. What I've tasted of desire I'll hold with those who favor fire." - R. Frost
    #5

    Silly little man. Do you think all of that ambition matters? I'd warrant your best feature is your control of those flames you love so dear. No one cares about your rank, in the end. As we've had so courteously demonstrated for us, even kings will fall.

    So what does matter? Oh, I think you'll figure it out in time. That is, if you get enough time. Me, I have plenty of it, and it makes for some interesting experiences.

    "Delighted to hear it, considering we are fresh out of bunnies."

    Probably the truth.

    "Never." Definitely the truth. "I tried sex and found it to be less exciting than I was led to believe. Besides, carnal pleasures aren't my thing."

    Perhaps if I were a stallion, it would be different. So many mares throw themselves at a handsome and willing male that it must be some sort of irresistible aphrodisiac. Mares, however, we're a dime a dozen, and we're the ones that get stuck with the demon spawn after the fun is over.

    No, my fun is much different. It's in rifling through the mind, finding the sore spots, and witty banter that descends into complete and utter wickedness. Oh, and long walks on the beach of course.

    "Pray tell, why has ambition led you here? Argue that you are not misguided, attempting to rise in a kingdom barely fresh from the grave? I've heard the Chamber is open for applicants…not to your liking?"

    Flame shows are well and good but I won't be much impressed by them. Although you do look adorable wreathed in the stuff, and I imagined it is terribly useful on someone much younger than me.

    "What would you like to do here? I'm always open for suggestions."

    Nevermind that there is a king. I'm not exactly one to be guided or swayed by royalty. I'm a big girl and I make my own choices, don't you know?

    G A L L O W S
    We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.


    #6

    She was a strange mare indeed. The air of “I simply couldn’t give less fucks” was something he found refreshing. He mirrored her attitude with his own. Most mares he’d met had been bunnies and flowers and all things nice and good, and Gallows seemed to be the polar opposite of those bullshit notions. Refreshing, indeed.

    “Perhaps you tried it with the wrong man.” he said, rolling his shoulders in semblance of a shrug. It was here their similarities ended, for he found sex and excellent way to relieve tensions and stress. As she had been so kind to point out, he couldn’t burn everything lest he have nothing left to eat. It seemed as if every season, there was at least one mare willing to give herself up to him. Not that he had qualms about taking what wasn’t his, but it was nice occasionally to not have to fight for the right to plow the field and sow his seed. But she changes directions quickly, and he raises a brow at her. He had to admit, she posed an excellent question.

    What had led him here? Mostly ambition if he were to be honest with himself. Since birth he’d longed for power, a chance to drink from the well of it and drink that shit dry. But those opportunities had been few and far between here, and yet he’d stayed. “Excellent question. I came here as a baby faced colt, barely a yearling. I’ve now seen three kings come and go, and yet I remain. Perhaps its something instinctual, since this was my fathers kingdom many times over.” He doesn’t mention names, but surely as old as she is she could figure it out on her own. “I’ve no qualms with the Chamber, other than they aren’t the Valley.” he said, smirking slightly. By now the fire along his body had died somewhat, leaving behind a dull glow of embers against his black coat. “I’d like to see the Valley rise from the ashes, and regain the fearsome glory it once held. If I can help, I will, but I won’t pretend that I don’t do things for personal gain either. Unless you’d like me to lie.” he finished with a wink.


    flamevein
    i set fire to the rain
    #7

    I will never be the gorgeous bubbly mare shadowed by bunnies and frolicking in flowers. (to heinously exaggerate a stereotype) It just isn't my style, and I am much too old to change who I am at this late date. Set in my ways, I think they call it. Although let's be brutally honest. I was born set in my ways.

    I grin a little at his comment. Not the right man, hm? I wonder how Carnage would interpret that. Does the ego ridden magician care if he is good in bed? It's not like it matters. He could be just awful and mares would still flock to him and his particular brand of power. Not that I can talk. I did ask him to father my child.

    But that was more about ancient bloodlines than carnal enjoyment. And as far as that went, I was completely satisfied.

    In that, darling, we are the same. The Chamber has always been the lesser of two evils, I think.” I chuckle at my play on words. “Granted, supposedly all kingdoms are equal now with no affiliation to light or dark, but the Valley and the Chamber will always host those with, how to say this... more expansive desires? And without the moral qualms keeping them form achieving their goals.

    I'd like to see some good-hearted soul try to reform the Valley. I bristle at the thought. Gods, but that would be a disaster.
    I'd make sure of it.

    I always enjoy it when people lie. It's fascinating to hear the truth in their head while their lips mouth other words.” I wink at him.

    It's really quiet entertaining, the duplicity of the mind and the mouth. I'm just lucky enough to get a private seat in that show.

    Perhaps we should have a chat with our current monarch. I imagine he would like to see a few things burn.” I say with a pointed look at the dying embers. “And you would be ever so useful to the Valley, particularly for raids and other shows of power. As well, the Chamber has a few pyros of their own, my son included, and I don't like for them to have too many advantages over us.

    I scowl a bit at that. Kushiel, born and raised in the Valley, chose the chamber.

    Silly boy of mine. He'll learn.

    G A L L O W S
    We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.






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