assuredly, we must all hang together
I do so love bullet points, don't you? I mean, a lack of opposable thumbs or any discernible digits at all does make it hard for me to take notes, but I don't let that stop me. Brains can be useful for storage, after all. And I have quite a few queries stored up for the Valley's resident magician.
One, what the hell did you do to Shiya because I am dying to know.
Two, fix the wall. fix the wall. fix the wall. (okay, not a question. sue me)
Three, what is your stance on unprovoked violence?
It's strange to me. I am older by far than anyone in the Valley but I always view Eight as being the youngest. I know he isn't, but because I knew him as a child it's hard to reconcile the stallion he has become with the colt he was. He has bloomed into a ridiculous amount of potential but I still catch myself thinking he's a baby.
And gods am I glad he can't read my mind because I don't think one's queen thinking of you as a child is considered particularly flattering.
I flit through the minds of the Valley inhabitants, searching for a particular one. When I find Eight I send a shortly worded request for his presence. I'm not irritated; I'm just short on time. Ascending a throne and starting a war in the same year takes a lot of effort. Efficiency, apparently, is key.
G A L L O W S
We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.
|
 no matter what they say, I am still the king
Why bother being long winded when you can be straight to the point? Checklists and numbers and bullets and boxes – so much easier than actually writing it all out. And hey- benefits of mind reading (mind you, not that I could ever penetrate you little barrier there) is that the mind is full of bullet points – short, rapid thoughts that fire off one after another. Really, it makes communicating such a breeze.
Isn’t time strange, though? How after all these years, you and Eight have come together once again. In truth, I guess it makes sense that he’d always seem like a baby to you. After all, you were the first matronly type of woman he came across. Not to say that you’re particularly maternal, but simply that you took him under your wing as a little fighting child, someone to do your bidding. And he listened, and listened well – like a child expectantly waiting for a teacher.
And now? Well, now he’s all grown up (mostly) – but still forever young in your eyes. It’s always hard to change a stance on a relationship that lasts so long – how can you look at a man who has grown, when you only knew him as a young and innocent (well, maybe) little boy?
Eight, per usual, is biding his time in the shadows somewhere. Gallows knows he’s around, as does the other Valley members – and so he sees no need to truly go out and forge friendships and romances and whatever else they feel like doing. No, he knows that if someone should need him, he will find them. And maybe, occasionally, he’d come out to play.
He appears at your side as quickly as you had called. “Hello Gallows.” Of course, he couldn’t read the bullet points of you mind, unless you let him in – and so he wasn’t truly sure why you had beckoned. Although he could only imagine you needed something from him. “What can I help you with today?”
∞ and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in
assuredly, we must all hang together
He's prompt, which is better than I can say for myself. I don't have any notions of fashionably late; I simply don't care. If I am eager for something, I hurry. If not, well then I'll see you when I see you. But I am queen of double standards and I don't like being kept waiting.
"The wall, Eight. It needs to go. You did good work with it, but we and our allies need to move freely across the borders. And I need you at full strength for the war."
Whoops. I forget that being blunt isn't always the best received. I take an exasperated breath, and blow air sharply between my teeth. But my to the pointedness doesn't seem to bother Eight, and I grin.
"I'd like your thoughts on that, actually. The war. We're allied to the Chamber and I see no one else worth coming alongside. I have a feeling Straia is thinking offense and we may very well make the first move. She has magic herself, and a few other gifted creatures. Can we count on you to assist?"
At the very least, I'll have him babysitting the Valley and those who need to stay behind. Like my daughter and Fennick's child.
G A L L O W S
We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.
|
 no matter what they say, i am still the king
It seemed being on time was something flexible around here- show up, or don’t. Disappear, only to reappear months later. But that was okay – it wasn’t a surprise that the citizens of Beqanna so readily left and returned – such was the way of life. But we all know that the world doesn’t stop spinning when you leave, and that holds true in this case, too. War was on the brink of Beqanna, and war waits for no one.
Eight gives a nod, he knew this was a long time coming. The wall was a great idea in theory, keeps the bad guys out, makes the Valley look intense – you know, that whole thing. “You got it, sister.” At your mention of war, Eight does not flicker – there was the taste of war in the air, a tension thick and mighty. And of course, it helps to be a magician – very little passes by without your knowledge.
“Of course – you know I’ve always been by your side for these sorts of things.” He couldn’t forget, really. Despite all the years he lived and all the fucked up things that he’d done, his very roots were in the little orphan army that you had once started. “ Any word on when this offense will come about?” It was so very easy to claim you wanted war – but making the first move was an entire different ordeal.
“I hear stirrings that the Amazons will be against us as well, perhaps? And who knows who will stand beside them.” With the Amazons, usually came the Tundra. And lord knows the Deserts would quite easily throw their lot in beside the Gates. Oddly enough, even with the thought of most of Beqanna against the darker side, there was little fear or trepidation in Eight (and of all the other Chamberlings and Valley-goers, he was sure). “I’m wherever you need me with whatever. Just let me know.” Ah, the nonchalance of living forever.
As he finished speaking – he tipped his head towards the outlines of the Valley – just in time for you to see the last flickering flames being sucked into the ground below us. The land underneath rumbled slightly, causing trees to shake and a quiver to run up Eight’s body. It was as If the Valley had eaten the fire into the pit of her belly and was bellowing for more. “As you wished.”
∞
|
