Out here in the perimeter there are no stars - ALL/CONT.

[Pollock]

I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin
I called you to wish you well, to glory in self like a new monster
And now I call you to pray

He eats himself. The way a star does, of course, at its cannibalistic end. 
But it is not an End. They all know that. Even as the brief silence Carnage leaves in the wake of his mighty, cosmic implosion is a terminal one, they know. The rocks he had so diseased creak under the weight of his creation and swift abandonment. An arid breeze whistles funerary songs through the cracks of that ruined rock – or is that cheering? From the cowed parts of this scorch earth that still remember what it once was, who it once belonged to; what He had done to it?

The thick, muddy river, splitting Pangea’s spine in two, gurgles as it struggles to take on meltwater from some faraway place. Slowly but surely, it is filling with icy spills.

Gone. But not gone in the way a beggar is, when last he closes his eyes and succumbs to the will of his poverty.

Gone, like a king, leaving idols of dust and stone, in his image.
Gone, like a god – chosen, instead, the Martian court.
Gone, indeed, like a cancer. That is, violently and uncertainly.

He stands, for a moment more, in that bewildered quiet, those constellations still hanging in his eyes as bright, white sparks. He breathes. He breathes dust and crooked magic into his lungs; his dark, stern eyes flutter closed, 

the blood and the cold, slings and arrows, oh! the flesh and bone he had lain waste to…

to get here.
To wear a crown of ash.
His mother might even be proud, that abject sow.

He turns to them finally, that small and ignoble band of savages, who had seen a beautiful thing ravaged for their pleasure. He smiles his crocodile smile.

“Well. It is too bad your man did not show,” he turns to Harmonia first, a woman he had thought he felt strange power emanating from the day they all came together in the Meadow for the first time, despite her unassuming looks. A feeling he cannot shake, “I will hear your proposition, Harmonia, now or in private.” Pollock turns from her, the hope, of course, being that they could all be friends. In another time and place, her choice of champion may have rung traitorous in his arrogant ears.

He needs no enemy like her. 

He moves on to the confused young man.

“As Harmonia said, this is Pangea. You seem to have wandered into my kingdom, rather uninvited,” he looks him over for a moment, with flat, black eyes, “welcome to our new world, boy. Carnage raised this place for us because Beqanna got a bit uppity, and then seemed to have had her little favourites when the time came to be generous again. We were not among them.” At this, he addresses them as a whole. Those he thinks, with some semblance of respect, would never have bent the knee; those, he suspects, are more like morsels snared in a web to be made meals of.

“I have said what I thought Pangea stood for, to the satisfaction of its maker, I am curious what everyone else here thinks. I need names, too.

I believe, as I said, that it is very likely we are unique in Beqanna. Not just because of how Pangea came to be, and the consequences of that, but because all the other lands were gained by mewling and knee-bending to the goddess, who took much from us all. And still, they begged.” His lip curls in marked disgust as he paces slowly in front of them.

“I think we’d best introduce ourselves to these other groups. For all we know, we may have a bit of a bad reputation. Very likely, none at all. We should change that, quickly,” he has not traveled to see what the mists have given Beqanna’s beggars, curiosity and a feeling of superiority compels him, “if anyone wants to join me on the tour, say so now. 

For now, I will rule on my own. As I said to Carnage, I am not a politician. Not a politician, and yet, a king. I may well find someone deserves a place more… beside me, but in the meantime, I will need qualified,” he eyes them, with an look that can only be interpreted as dubious, “horses to take up positions of import. Advisory positions. We will need to discuss, as well, how we’d like to see Pangea structured. Something that fits the... unique array of skills we may have in our midst” He takes a breath, again that dust and stale air. And exhales.

“This will not be a place for cravens. Not a safe place, anyway. This is not a sanctuary,” he makes a point to gesture around them with those mighty, curved horns. To every corner of this barren, rugged place, whose scant offerings would toughen them up. It remains to be seen how much would grow from this scarred earth, “not that I want it to be hostile. 

I do so love peace.”

POLLOCK
the gift giver

some notes!
- any idea on caste systems/structural stuff is VERY welcome - maybe something that goes beyond the scope of just diplomacy/army, because yeah, our characters fall between those cracks often, so we can brainstorm - simple, or more than just the two castes
- i have some ideas, and i may like mock some up and throw it somewhere! but i want to hear quite badly what everyone thinks, in reply here or PM, whatever
- there will also very likely be maybe two or three positions for advisory/head type horses, most likely horses that share his vision to  degree, horses he has some 'respect for', etc.
- or we could just go traditional
- i probably missed a lot, but bare with me, a decade plus in and i have my first ruler

[bruise]

Ruling kingdoms bored Bruise more than overthrowing them. He had hungered to place his father upon the throne, to watch the Krampus sit with the skeleton crown upon his temples. He had made several motions to angle toward that outcome, setting things in motion when he had stumbled upon the fairy and the Fear had once again flooded his veins. The world had spun beneath their hooves, and he had partook in the game of chess, seeking allies and those more subservient. He had secured his place as the favored son by gifting his fathers powers back to him, returning what had been stolen.

Still, the actual technicalities of ruling, of organizing, of leading—the appeal eluded him.

He had come alongside his father and watched as he petitioned the god of black holes and swallowed nebulas; his dark gaze had been calculated, measured, unwavering. Even when the mare had approached and named another, he had not flinched, although his eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly. Did she not see the power his father wielded? Did she not see the way he could bring the earth to heel? Did she not see that he was a master creator? That he had come to shape their world into his own vision?

Clearly, she did not, and he dismissed her, unperturbed by the mild shuffle for power.

Instead, his young gaze found his fathers and he watched as the crown was passed and the wasteland that was Pangea was passed along to Pollock. His smile was slight, cold, but genuine as he father stepped forth, as he spoke to those who gathered. “Long live the King,” he finally offered in his husky voice, nodding his heavily horned head to his father. “I am here to assist however I am needed.” To what end, he was not sure; after all, he had a…particular set of skills to wield. Diplomacy was not among them.

Bruise

head like a hole; as black as your soul.

i like the idea of non-traditional castes. i am useless right now, but i'll PM you if i have thoughts.

[Rhae]

Rhae

The king disentigrated in a zip of magic, and a new one quickly filled his place. She hadn't met this one. She knew it was probably best that she does not do so, despite the similarities between him and her most recent acquaintance, Bruise. Her eyes cast about for Tioga, her sister-protector, but the large woman had not returned from her latest journey. She was alone in this terrifying madness.

The man, Pollock, mentioned easily a request for names. So easily. Her heart seized in horror. Such a simple thing, a name. To speak her name and be done, was a fanciful notion, but a complete fantasy. To voice her name, or anything at all, would be to attract all their eyes to her. ALL their eyes. So many. Too many.

In her debilitating anxiety, she found herself creeping just a bit closer toward Bruise. It was not wise. He probably meant her harm in some way. But it was the closest thing to familiarity she had in this mass of strangers. The one before him, Waylan, had coaxed a shy smile from her, but had quickly departed. The blue woman seemed kind, but did not gain Rhae's confidence. There would be no safety there.

She wasn't foolish enough to believe she was safe with Bruise, but he was strong. Tioga had been strong. She craved their strength. She'd huddled safely in her sister's shadow before, and now, with her missing, she tried so very hard to vanish in the colt's distant wake.

Please don't see me. Don't ask my name.
Let me disappear.

She crouched in silence with wide eyes, tensed and coiled in preparation to bolt. But to where?

ooc: i am beyond useless and have no input whatsoever :| just a beautiful toy for the wicked <3

[Harmonia]

Belgrath did not show - no, and Harmonia expected the incident at Tephra was partially to blame. She shrugs her shoulders in one rolling motion at the acknowledgement of his inability to show. She is, both traditionally and currently, not the most loyal creature. Except to Bead - who'd been dead for decades now. She doesn't think on these things.

But Harmonia knows when she has something to barter and when to keep things close to her chest. She does not know she's not the only one in the group to wield such a power - but she is the only one to not have used it yet. She waits until he acknowledges her proposition and then says, "I found a fairy - she's letting me restore the power of 5 horses. I thought this might come in handy during...alliance making." The word sits heavy in her mouth - her name is a misnomer. Harmonia is not the bringer of peace, she's the bringer of discord. She can feel the familiar rattle of war in her bones and it excites her greatly.

The conversations continue and she gives another noncommittal motion of her shoulders to express her disinterest. "Why have castes at all?" she asks. It's not a suggestion, it's an errant thought that annoyed her most of her adult life. It's why she generally avoided kingdoms, but it appeared there wasn't much choice now. "Why not just positions to fill with apprentices? And if they need assistance in teaching, they hire co-captains or whatever." It's clear Harmonia has never been a working cog in any chain, if anything she's been a clog in a drain. But she is pregnant and irritable and wishing so dearly to cause some mischief.

HARMONIA

the pied piper