"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
10-19-2015, 06:51 PM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2015, 07:23 PM by Galzar.)
It has been years since the skeleton has had a somewhere he can call home. He had heard about Beqanna and its many Kingdoms through his travels. How long has it been since he left his birth place weeks? Months? Years? The stallion has lost track of time with in his travels. But now he was damn sure determined to make this highly spoken about place his home. But as he walked around and looked over the kingdoms of Beqanna none of them felt right, none of them looked like it was a better fit for him so to speak. See he wasn't your beautiful, dashing, or handsome stallion, he looked like an old run down beaten up stallion because of his chronic defect, he was skinny, he was healthy but just skinny. But he finally found a place where he could call home, The Chambers, he had heard about it through the conversations he eavesdropped on it was a place for monsters, horses with a messed up mind, horses whom have dark attitudes and crazy ideas. It sounded like his place. His mind was certainly messed up and he did have a dark attitude well sometimes he wasn't one to mess with even though it looks like he can't do anything be cause of how weak he looks but he is certainly as strong as the other testosterone filled stallions out there. He lifted his head and looked through the fog he knows there is a border some where around here. He flicked his head and set his slightly glowing blue eyes on the horizon in front of him. He looked up and saw ravens flying above him. "Perfect" he spoke his tone ghostly but some how still audible to the ears of any one close. His mouth stretched into a small grin, creepy to others but to him it was normal.He stopped his jagged pace and stood at what he thinks is the border to the Chambers and waits till someone caught his sent or was alerted by the ravens. He licks his lips careful to avoid his slightly elongated canines, they have had blood on them before, Heh his own brother who spited him when he chose to rise up with his father and mother to disown him when he was just barely 2 years old because he wasn't perfect and beautiful like his family. So Galzar did what he thought was right, get rid of them. He was beautiful in his own mind, he just had a few minor blemishes. They were the unperfect ones, they needed to be eradicated from his life. And he did just that. Did he feel bad for doing it? Hell no. Now he wanted to be with fellow monsters and he hopes he will feel right at home with them.
GALAZAR
the Past is just the same- and War's a bloody game
Kushiel looked perfect. He looked like a god damn daydream. His hair glistened and sparkled, whether with real fire or plain old animal magnetism was anyone’s guess. But, as the wise would tell you, appearances could be deceiving. The gray stallion crackled with something else as well, something volatile and strange that lashed out at odd moments.
Not even the man himself could predict which way his mood would blow.
Hot then cold, usually hot that just got hotter. Still, life was more fun when it was a little dangerous. He preferred reality to peel up at the edges, liked it to singe slightly with the heat of his gaze. As it was, winter was no problem for Kushiel. He almost welcomed the cold. It was like a compress to his burning and writhing mind. It cooled him off by several degrees, like a bucket of ice water dumped over a teenage boy.
Needless to say, it was a welcome relief.
Most only knew passion once or twice in their life. It flamed into existence then burned out like lighter fluid poured across too little paper. But, that was how it was meant to be. It wasn’t normal, wasn’t natural to feel that fire all the time. Kushiel did. He was getting better at finding distractions, better at cooling off before he flamed out. Some days were better than others. All days were better with distraction.
Today was a bad day, and so he was more than happy find his distraction. A skinny, sickly looking boy. Kushiel smirked, his teeth flashing and eyes over bright. A pervert or a wolf, it was anyone’s guess. Kushiel rather hoped they just thought him insane. He wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. Kushiel made his way to the newcomer and smirked.
“Has your Ma not been feeding you, son?” Kushiel was well aware that this kid was old enough not to need his Ma. Or at least, he certainly should have been old enough to eat without a woman’s supervision. From the look of him, that might not be the case. Another bright smile, just to show that he was friendly.
When the wind brought a scent to the skinny stallions nose he lifted his head up higher then his withers, it was another equine obviously from the chambers. The grullo tossed his long mane and set his glowing blue eyes to where he thinks the equine will show itself. Surely enough a white, handsome, perfect stallion walks out of the mists and stops before him. In all honesty the stallion felt a little self contentious around this particular because of how well he was put together and how proud he was of his stature. There was something about this white stallion that seemed hot, not in attractiveness or sex appeal but in temperature, the skeleton looked him over and noted the small sparks in the others mane like tiny flames woven into the already shiny strands of the stallions mane. This stallion made Galazar look sick, not like he looked like that already, and dull. Galazar watched as the stallion stood proud but actually smiled down at the skin and bones, it wouldn't be considered a welcoming smile to the faint hearted but to the skinny lad it was a warm welcome. Then the god spoke asking Gal if his mother wasn't feeding him causing the grullo to bark a strange laugh that made his sides heave. "If my mother would of had her way, my father would of killed me a long time ago. But I got to them first, I got rid of those judgmental bastards" He said his voice rough and hoarse (No pun intended) from the disuse of the years of his travels. " Not to be rude but did your mother spoil you? I mean no one with an average mother would ever look like you do" He said smirking slightly the points of his canines showing from under his scared lips.
The air was getting colder, and Kushiel was pretty certain the skinny fellow before him couldn’t stand so much as a whisper of a cold front. They would have to park him by the flaming tree and hope he managed to weather the storm. Kushiel, though he could be toasty and warm all year around, still lost a bit of weight in the winter. He made it up come spring, but this guy didn’t seem like he had any extra to lose.
But still the gray stallion liked the other man’s spirit. Kushiel’s doubtful expression broke into an over wide, toothy grin at the his words. Kushiel knew a thing or two about rotten dads. Granted, he’d never actually met his own rotten father, but he’d heard enough stories to last a lifetime. Then, of course, they was the problem of being unable to spit without hitting a half sibling. It made his shameless flirting awkward at times, like a long succession of family reunions in which he was always the pervert uncle.
“Way to stick it to him. You can do mine next, if it’s not out of your system.” By “it”, he meant murderous rage and patricide. Kushiel could relate to that as well. Normally a brooding, melodramatic blowhard, Kushiel could be stirred into action when the prodding was acute enough.
There were, however, a few things that Kushiel held especially dear. His mother was one of those things. Needless to say, he bitched and moaned about her on a nearly consistent basis, but that said little about the true depth of his affection for her. Their relationship was unusual, to say the very least, but it was one built on mutual affection and a steadfast belief that nearly everyone else was a boring pain in ass. They were indoctrinating Kushiel’s baby sister into that way of thinking. The big stallion thought it was going rather well. She fit right in. He did, however, fix the new stallion with a warning look.
“My mother is a saint. A lunatic, but a saint.” Kushiel knew that was not true. Gallows was, far, far from a saint. She had, however, managed to raise him to adulthood, and that was a feat few others could be accomplished. A less steadfast woman probably would have left him to die. But still, this other stallion couldn’t be held responsible for being unaware of the many virtues of Gallows. Kushiel moved to return his smirk then noticed the other stallion’s pointed canines. He groaned loudly.
“Dear lord. Don’t tell me you’re a bunny killer. We already have one of those and she’s an unforgivable pain in my ass.” He was, of course, talking about Shaytan, the deranged mare who’d tried to chase him away from the burning tree like he was a common criminal. She was also known to behead and eat the occasional rabbit. Kushiel harrumphed with a great deal of indigence.
“That’s probably why you’re so skinny. There are no nutrients in rabbits, man.” There, problem solved. Another life saved, thanks to Kushiel.
The wind blew a chilly breeze that pierced him to the bone, resisting the urge to shiver he chuckled at the stallion's statement "Yes, it was a good way to as you say "Stick it to him" he said humor coloring his rough tone as his eyes sparkled with dark humor as he flicked his long, thick black tail slightly. "You want me to do the same to your father? Is he that bad?" He asked not really giving a damn whether it was personal information or not, the skinny stallion was slightly nosy when it came to interesting strangers like Kushiel. Galazar seemed to strike a nerve when he mentioned the mans mother, the pale stallion was silent for a moment then he told him that his mother was a saint, this caused the stallion to chuckle "All mothers may seem like a saint to the child, but they are not really as saint like as one would think" he said a dark gleam in his glowing blue eyes as he gauged the stallions reactions to his words. His ears flicked slightly as the ravens called above him "You sure do have a a lot of ravens around here, I haven't seen this many in years" He commented as the flock passed over their heads. He couldn't help but bark out another rough laugh that almost sounded painful. "No no you have got me all wrong, my canines are not used to kill rabbits, I wouldn't waste my time with them, they are unimportant to me. I have a taste for grass much like the regular horses do. The reason why I am so skinny is that I was just born with it, no matter what or how much I eat I gain absolutely no weight. Go poke fun at me I don't give a damn" He said his voice yet again rough and raspy much like he has just woken up. "Besides bunny killers are just wasting their time with useless animals kind of like wasting your time chasing a mouse or a rat. I really don't have a taste for meat. More like a satisfaction of killing something" He said his eyes gleaming with some dark emotion but also dark humor. He cocked his head slightly his forelock falling into his eyes "Whats your story "man?" he asked with a slightly sarcastic tone.
Kushiel grinned, a wide, manic smile that made him look like he’d either been really good or really bad. As usual, the expressions were one in the same, and elicited the same giddy joy. If truth were to be told, Kushiel rarely thought about his father. Everyone else seemed to have a great deal more of a bone to pick with the magic man. The worst thing Carnage had ever done to Kushiel was fuck his mother…twice. While that normally would have elicited a great deal of irrational rage from the gray stallion (causing no small number of whispers about Oedipus complexes), Kushiel was too disturbed by the idea to give it more than a passing consideration.
Some things just didn’t need to be considered.
His mother’s relations were among the long list of things Kushiel pretended didn’t exist. His sanity was built like a shaky house of cards. A strong gust of wind could topple the whole thing. He did, however, have an answer for the new stallion. He gave him an abbreviated version, the new guy didn’t need to hear about Kushiel’s dark and twisted relationship with his mother.
“If the stories are to believed he is. The old man has always stayed out of my way though.” One day, when Kushiel was tragically, hopelessly, stupidly bored, perhaps he’d go looking for trouble. That day was a long way in the future, however, if it was ever to come at all.
Kushiel’s smile grew wry when Galazar spoke on the saintliness of mothers. Kushiel had heard something like this many times before. People always insisted that Gallows couldn’t be as bad or as good as Kushiel made her seem. That is where everyone was wrong. Perhaps that was true of mothers in general. Most mothers were just women after all, nothing more, nothing less. All those women weren’t Gallows though. Kushiel just grinned knowingly. His mother was a force of nature, you had to meet her to understand. But, the new stallion turned his attention to the ravens before Kushiel could launch into another account of Gallows’ exploits and embarrass both of them.
“Ah yes, you have Straia to thank for that.” Kushiel looked around, shifty eyed, as if he had something to hide. Then he spoke in a loud, exaggerated stage whisper.
“Be careful what you say, she’s always listening.” Kushiel was making fun of the situation, but he was also telling the truth. Straia was always listening, and the ravens were her perfect, feathery, scavenging spies. But, instead of ripping the flesh from the dead, they ripped secrets from her enemies (and everyone else as well).
Kushiel was still imagining Stria’s ravens picking away at his exposed brain when Galazar explained his fangs and generally bedraggled appearance. Kushiel heaved a sigh of relief. Really anything was better than another bunny eater.
“Well, you better not tell that to Shaytan. She probably won’t thank you for your trouble.” From his experience, Shaytan didn’t take very well to logic and reason. Though, perhaps she and Galazar might find other things to talk about. They both shared a preference for blood. Weren’t good friendships built on mutual interests? If that was the case, Galazar should fit right in. Kushiel shrugged.
“I suppose there are worse things to be than skinny. You’re not so terrible to look at. Not that I’d be in a hurry to get in line or anything.” Kushiel gave the new stallion a shifty look, just incase he got any crazy ideas about which team Kushiel went to bat for. Ladies, Kushiel only swung his bat around from the ladies. It was probably good Galazar changed the subject.
“Well, my name is Kushiel. My saintly mother had a dirty one night stand with the dark god and gave birth to me in the Valley. I then betrayed her hopes and dreams by coming to live here. Not to much to tell really, once you hit those main details.” Kushiel could, of course, control fire. But, that was really just a parlor trick when you got down to it. He did use that parlor trick to burn the Gates to the ground a while back. But again, who was counting? Or was the devil in the details? It was one or the other, Kushiel could never remember which.
