"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
His romp with Ryss, had been mind bending. It had made the black stallion feel something other than his usual cool contempt. He still wore the marks from her, although by now they had faded into white scars beneath his black pelt. The blood had long since been cleaned off, by scratching his body against the trees as they had healed and the blood had dried. Now it was cold, and his fur was thick and kept him warm.
His felt the cold fear snake itself into his heart again, making his adrenaline speed through his veins in a burst. There was no way that he cared for Rys more than he did any other mare he had kids with (lies). There is no way that he would be there for the birthing of this kid (another lie). He wasn't obsessed with her (liar, liar).
He growled at his thoughts, recognizing them for what they were.
Lies.
All lies.
The black stallion shifts into a dire wolf, his fangs sharp and his predator senses kicking in. He reveled in the feeling of it, the way his muscles coiled so differently yet the same beneath his black coat. He growls when he senses a bear nearby. He needed something, needed the violence that this fight promised.
So off he went, to tangle with a bear.
The bear lost of course.
Pazuzu returned to his horse form, pleasantly tired, even though the traitorous thoughts still lingered in his mind. He did not love her, he had never loved anyone and would not start now. But she was like a drug, someone to take advantage of, even if it had been the best lay of his life. And although he had had other mares after her, none had compared (sorry ladies).
Blood ran in ragged rivulets down his sides, more scars to add to the various ones on his body. He would keep these ones too, for a while. He let the blood run, didn't bother to heal it and stood there, his shrewd eyes landing on others but staying in the shadows.
Long ago, she’d witnessed star shine. She had tasted that bitter taste on her tongue, heavy like cream but not nearly as sweet. She had felt the sun lick greedily at her delicate ankles. Time and space were dark on the whole, but the stars and the sun? No, certainly not. They were light created by light, blooming through the darkness like blood spilt through white linen.
Topsail was learning that she preferred the dark.
She didn’t often leave the confines of her kingdom. Not because she was frightened in the traditional sense. But she was frightened of the beast that lurked beneath her mousy brown coat. Every now and again she could feel it rise like a snake, sniffing eagerly at the air. Mostly she denied it an outlet, preferring to use the power only when needed. Her battle with Eight was not forgotten, and though some of the wounds had healed during her shift back to equine form, a great majority remained, destined to become scars. If anything, the scars would make her a more fitting evil queen. Topsail was nothing if not an optimist.
Today she ventured from the Valley, though still clinging to the shadows around the meadow. It was quiet here, and would have been peaceful if not for the ruckus that erupted from the depths of the forest. A horrible scuffle was happening and her equine brain begged her to flee before the attacker changed its target. But another part of her, a more sinister part, begged to investigate. She wrestled with indecision only for a moment. Closing her eyes she gave herself up to it, and soon the soft hair was replaced with a leathery skin. The blunt equine teeth lengthened and sharpened, and the pupils turned to vertical slits. It was over quickly, and where once a grulla mare had stood, now stood a powerful creature unlike anything Beqanna was accustomed to. Breath whooshed from her nostrils in huffs as the curved claw tapped anxiously at the ground. She did not bark nor chirp, but a single reptilian growl leaked from between her dangerous teeth. It would be her only warning.
With ease and frightening agility she set off, the scene easy to find due to the amount of blood that had been spilled. It was intoxicating, so much so that she began to salivate. But she was no scavenger, and would only eat carrion if there was no other choice. As a top predator, there was always another choice. Finally she emerged from the brush and her sharp eyes fell on the unfortunate bear. It had clearly been a very one sided fight, with the bear falling short. Another growl seeped from her mouth almost on its own as her head whipped around. A new scent had rose over the blood, one more masculine and slightly more dangerous. A stallion stood cloaked in the shadows, and Topsail knew immediately that he had been the perpetrator. Despite the fact that he had changed clothes, so the speak, he still reeked of carnage. Tilting her reptilian head she looked over him, noting the magic that permeated through the smell of blood. It was easy for her to feel as she tried searching for a name. She did not pry, knowing full well that a magician would have up certain defenses against powers like hers. Instead she gave him a chirp with her reptilian mouth, though at the same time sending him a single thought. “The poor bear didn’t have a chance. You, however, seem no worse for the wear.” Perhaps she should have offered a name, but for now, she refrained. Perhaps she also should have shifted back, but like the name, she wouldn’t give up all of her cards in a single hand. After seeing the bear, she much enjoyed having a set of sharp teeth and sharp claws at her disposal.
04-25-2016, 06:25 AM (This post was last modified: 05-14-2016, 09:33 PM by Pazuzu.)
"Evil requires no reason."
He would be lying if he said he hadn't heard her approach. The gait was weird, two legs shifting and moving instead of four. He had cast his mind out upon hearing it, encompassing her and getting a visual of what she looked like. A wicked smile curled his lips. He felt her probe, his mind black and sinister curling like ink around hers when she touched his conscience and he allowed her to see what he had done to the bear, his name flashing in her mind even as he took her name from her own.
No worse for the wear indeed. There was a particular jagged cut across his chest that he was dripping blood from steadily. He was monitoring it, but for now it was alright. He would likely have to heal it up here soon but he turns when she speaks to him, his head turning to look at her over his shoulder. Seeing the small velociraptor he can only smile at it. "Topsail." He says in greetings, his body turning so he faces the creature head on.
His body begins to morph until he is a cousin to her smaller velociraptor. A large male Utahraptor stands before her, his teeth gleaming in the ever fading night and he chirps to her. He stands there easily, so far relaxed and nonthreatening but the dark gleam in his eyes said that that could change at any time.
"What brings you to the Forest this lovely day?" He speaks to her, even his voice in her head bringing a reptilian lisp to it. His head cocks and he turns to peer at her out of one of his large yellow eyes. Should she try to probe his mind, she would find all of her worst fears reflected back at her.
pazuzu
blah, he's being difficult now. <3 sorry this is horrible
@[Topsail]
**Disclaimer, posting to Pazuzu can result in maiming, torturing, and all kinds of nasty things possibly happening to your pony. If you do not agree, do not post to him or if you do not want your pony horribly maimed, please say so. Most of the time he will just leave some nice new scars, either mental or physical.
She concedes nothing to him, even when he shifts into something more fearsome than herself. Instead, she finds her muscles coiling like a spring, and her massive claw begins flexing in anticipation. The magic that bleeds from his skin is almost palpable, shimmering against the still air of the darkened forest. It bleeds from his skin as freely as the blood had flown from his chest. There is an unspoken challenge lingering between them, and it was anyone’s guess as to whose spring would snap first. For now though, she tilted her reptilian head at his chirp, barking back in her own way. From somewhere far off she heard horses startle, and it took every bit of her concentration to not give chase to the fleeing equines. But they would be far too easy…no, it wouldn’t do. The chase was her favorite part of the hunt. It was in those moments that her dominance was truly understood. There were but a few things in these lands who could tamp her down.
If it hadn’t been for the magic surging off of him in waves, she would have searched for a name. As it stood, she knew better. Like Eight, this magic stallion in front of her could easily block her attempts. Instead she smiled, or rather, flashed her teeth at him. A raptors mouth wasn’t much made for such a friendly gesture. He speaks and she nods along, her face as passive as was possible. “The same scenery over and over gets boring, and they do say idle hands are the devils playground.” She didn’t know how much of her voice would reach him, not knowing how high his mental barriers were. “And you? Surely you didn’t just come here to slaughter a bear. Curious minds would like to know.” A pause, followed by another grin. Something crashed behind her, and before she had complete control she had wheeled around to face it, snarling and excited. Poor, stupid deer. Already she had been coiled like a spring, and the temptation of the idiotic deer was simply too much for her to resist. Quick as a flash she was on it, and the feel of its pulse in her mouth was intoxicating. Thrum, thrum, thrum went the blood into her mouth, while the deer struggled in vain. It was over quickly, too quickly. The chase was part of the fun, and the deer hadn’t provided that. Turning back to the other reptile, eyes dilated, she chirped again. It was either an invite to partake in her meal or a warning to move away; even she wasn’t sure.
Idle hands. He had too much idle time lately. Too much worrying over Ryss, too much fighting the urge to fall in love with her. (Little did he know he would fall to it eventually.) It boiled his insides, curdled his stomach and made him feel antsy and angsty and just pissed off in general. He wanted to rip and maim and so far the bear hadn't done what he needed it to do. It had released some of it, sure but now, now he wanted more. He watched her, those golden slits of his constantly watching her in an almost unnerving way. He shifts his weight slightly.
He is just as ready to snap as she is. The unspoken challenge in the air meant that they would either fight or do the dirty. It would be the only thing that would calm both of their blood. But Ryss, dear Ryss, he couldn't do that to her, even now, even knowing that she would not hold his past against him. He couldn't do that.
So it looks like fighting would be it.
She turns and lunges, taking down the deer with the snap of the branches behind her. He admires the grace, the beauty that she has when she attacks. He admires it, but finds himself without the urge to touch and make his. Damn Ryss. Damn that girl.
He slides into another shape, one like her owns, one that is more evenly matched. He was in the mood for a fight, for blood shed and while she offers him her food, he does go to it, taking a bite. "I came here to....spill blood." He said finally. His golden eyes on her and he waits, he waits for her to pounce to feel the threat in the air, to answer his challenge. He shifts his weight, his body moving back and forth slightly. If she wouldn't lunge, then he would.
