05-02-2015, 01:40 AM
so you wanna play with magic?
Camrynn can't help but smile as she watches the mare interact with Gumby. This had been part of what she'd intended when she created the construct, making him rise from the sand like a phoenix from the ashes. He'd turned out brilliantly (did her creations ever fail to do so?) but she felt neither surprise nor pride at that fact. It's been more than 50 years since she first gained her magic; she's long since gotten over the testing phase and is well into the "delivering perfectly every time" phase. She simply doesn't make mistakes.
When Girr mentions what else Gumby can do, the queen frowns slightly, flicking her black tail across equally black haunches. Gumby is fairly new, and thankfully thus far he hasn't had to satisfy his primary mission. He is the happy go lucky family dog, but his primary mission is to protect the Deserts, and much like a family dog, he can do incredible things in the name of that protection. His teeth are sharp, his claws are sharp, and he's got the toned predatory body of a lion. He's also got astonishing tactical intelligence, hidden behind his dopey, goofy exterior.
Really, he's a masterwork.
"Gumby is the protector of the Deserts." she explains to Girr as the bronze statue brought to life gallivants merrily around their hooves.
And then, they both sense it – perhaps Gumby senses it through her, perhaps he smells it, perhaps they both do. Looking at the horizon, a small smile quirks at her lips; she feels the newcomer's magic even from here, his magic and his strength.
She had known he would come. She's in the habit of knowing things nowadays, even more than perhaps she has been. She tries to look ahead, to plan for the Deserts, to stay a step ahead of the Amazons and anyone else who would want to hurt them. And so far, it's worked brilliantly. And now the next step falls into place in the form of a burned summer-manipulator, a devil-stallion, fire made flesh.
He is a god, but so too is she – and she has trafficked with gods, ones older than any horse could ever hope to be. She is older than him, too, and the magic she wields is more ancient still. But they are kindred spirits, the scion of burning summer and the black illusionist queen. He might be more prone to mass murder where she's a more subtle form of chaos, but they are two peas in a pod.
Beside her, Gumby is on edge. He is taking his cues from Camrynn and so is not growling, but he is clearly not entirely content with the newcomer. He is quite a threatening creature when he wants to be; the size of a small pony, he is cast entirely out of bronze, a sphinx brought to life, complete with claws and teeth and powerful muscles. He is a threat, perhaps even to this burning summer-stallion.
She plucks his name from his mind, or from legend, or from common knowledge. Fire cleanses many things, but a magician's memory – and a magician's knowledge – is never one of them. Who can stop a god? Why, another god of course.
She turns to him, his silence completely natural to her. She is a great beauty, a contrast to his shocking appearance. She is pure black, save for a gilded crook and flail across her chest, a string of diamonds and gemstones like a necklace across her left cheek, and her remarkable eyes that change color on her whim. That's how she appears on the surface – perfectly normal.
It's underneath that her magic lives. She can be flashy. She can be anything. But she is always magic.
"Welcome to the Deserts." She greets with a wry smile and a touch of amusement in her voice, knowing that this stallion is no more a light than she herself. But what's a little bit of misalignment between friends? He has power, and so long as he refrains from killing Deserts members, he's welcome to stay here. "What brings you to the sands?" she asks, knowing full well what the answer is.
She stands ready to be the buffer to his fire, to protect and shield Girr should she need it. Camrynn is ready to welcome him, ready to use him, ready for anything – but she is not naïve. She knows better than to let murderers have free reign on her subjects. And she knows better than to trust Kingslay, who is more than a murderer.
But you don't have to trust in order to find useful. Beautiful, isn't it?
Camrynn thinks so. What say you, Kingslay?
When Girr mentions what else Gumby can do, the queen frowns slightly, flicking her black tail across equally black haunches. Gumby is fairly new, and thankfully thus far he hasn't had to satisfy his primary mission. He is the happy go lucky family dog, but his primary mission is to protect the Deserts, and much like a family dog, he can do incredible things in the name of that protection. His teeth are sharp, his claws are sharp, and he's got the toned predatory body of a lion. He's also got astonishing tactical intelligence, hidden behind his dopey, goofy exterior.
Really, he's a masterwork.
"Gumby is the protector of the Deserts." she explains to Girr as the bronze statue brought to life gallivants merrily around their hooves.
And then, they both sense it – perhaps Gumby senses it through her, perhaps he smells it, perhaps they both do. Looking at the horizon, a small smile quirks at her lips; she feels the newcomer's magic even from here, his magic and his strength.
She had known he would come. She's in the habit of knowing things nowadays, even more than perhaps she has been. She tries to look ahead, to plan for the Deserts, to stay a step ahead of the Amazons and anyone else who would want to hurt them. And so far, it's worked brilliantly. And now the next step falls into place in the form of a burned summer-manipulator, a devil-stallion, fire made flesh.
He is a god, but so too is she – and she has trafficked with gods, ones older than any horse could ever hope to be. She is older than him, too, and the magic she wields is more ancient still. But they are kindred spirits, the scion of burning summer and the black illusionist queen. He might be more prone to mass murder where she's a more subtle form of chaos, but they are two peas in a pod.
Beside her, Gumby is on edge. He is taking his cues from Camrynn and so is not growling, but he is clearly not entirely content with the newcomer. He is quite a threatening creature when he wants to be; the size of a small pony, he is cast entirely out of bronze, a sphinx brought to life, complete with claws and teeth and powerful muscles. He is a threat, perhaps even to this burning summer-stallion.
She plucks his name from his mind, or from legend, or from common knowledge. Fire cleanses many things, but a magician's memory – and a magician's knowledge – is never one of them. Who can stop a god? Why, another god of course.
She turns to him, his silence completely natural to her. She is a great beauty, a contrast to his shocking appearance. She is pure black, save for a gilded crook and flail across her chest, a string of diamonds and gemstones like a necklace across her left cheek, and her remarkable eyes that change color on her whim. That's how she appears on the surface – perfectly normal.
It's underneath that her magic lives. She can be flashy. She can be anything. But she is always magic.
"Welcome to the Deserts." She greets with a wry smile and a touch of amusement in her voice, knowing that this stallion is no more a light than she herself. But what's a little bit of misalignment between friends? He has power, and so long as he refrains from killing Deserts members, he's welcome to stay here. "What brings you to the sands?" she asks, knowing full well what the answer is.
She stands ready to be the buffer to his fire, to protect and shield Girr should she need it. Camrynn is ready to welcome him, ready to use him, ready for anything – but she is not naïve. She knows better than to let murderers have free reign on her subjects. And she knows better than to trust Kingslay, who is more than a murderer.
But you don't have to trust in order to find useful. Beautiful, isn't it?
Camrynn thinks so. What say you, Kingslay?
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery