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Post by Good Rook on Feb 7, 2010 17:41:22 GMT -5
It was about that time, wasn't it? Ah, it was and... sadly there was no avoiding that which was inevitable. She had ruled for ages, had been the Queen of her realm for years. She was known, if only among Noche, for being the “Virgin Queen”, though virgin was debatable (as a matter of fact, she was sure “Virgin Queen“ was meant to mock her)… after all, to hear what men said of her herd? Oh, they had many names for Her and Her’s. They mocked them, ridiculed them, gave them names. Courtesans, hookers, sluts, bitches, nymphs, sirens, all other words that could be thrown in the direction of a powerful, and manipulative, band of women. And yet despite all these names and rumors and words they had for her herd, the wise kept their distance and held their tongue in the presence of one of the women of the Aeosa. Ladies they were… but weak, they were not. The Aeosa could never fight a war like a man could, they could not rear themselves into the air, scream forth a powerful battlecry and charge forward with bloodlust and hatred raring. No, they could not fight a war in that way. … But that was not to say, that the Aeosa could not fight a war. How many herds had fallen to Shadow Brook over the years? How many had been engulfed into her dominion? She smiled somewhat, just thinking of it. No, her kind could not fight the obvious war, but they could win them nonetheless and all the more. Beneath the surface lie a network, and that network was one that the… charming, deceptive, and wit-filled women of the Aeosa controlled. They were powerful, even if it was by unconventional means. … And yet despite all this power? Despite it all? Vow frowned. She knew the value of diplomacy, knew the strength in politics… And knew, just as she knew the before mentioned, knew that her herd relied on such things more than anything else. If her neighbors ever decided to unite and turn on her, how would she live? How would her herd survive? She scowled, thinking of the vulnerability, the lack of safety her “harem” had. They were strong. … But they needed the corporation of others to exist. Luckily, their leader was so charismatic, so good with words, tongue, verses, deception? Absorbed in her thoughts, the mare rolled her eyes. She had held her dictatorship for six years. In those years she had been challenged countless times. And yet she still ruled. She hadn’t only her tongue to save her skin. She had other things, other assets, other secrets that allowed her to keep her control and position. … That allowed her to do so, without a man ruling by her side. And yet without the idiocy of men, she would have never been so successful. Men, ah, how easy they were. How simple. It was very easy to be a woman in a position of power. If one knew the meaning of “too little“ and “too much“ and it‘s use in the scheme of things. Never give too little, but never, ever give too much. She used what she was given to get what she wanted. Always. And yet she remained tasteful and dignified even as she did so. Was she seductive? She could be. Was she a whore? No, she was not. She was choosey in her companions, very particular in the company she kept. Only the ones that met her standards would do. … And there were far too few of those to be worth naming. … Not that there hadn’t been one or two. After all, this Virgin Queen had bore three daughters, once upon a time. Albeit it seemed such a long time ago.
Her daughters had been beautiful. Charming women, they were… dangerous, but stunning and resourceful. And yet they were dead. All three. And one was for the reason of this male. This male and his herd of ruffians and scoundrels, who had seduced her daughter, had taken her from the safe clutches of Aeosa. … But this Male and her had a good understanding. He seemed smart enough for that at least. He knew she was better as an ally than an enemy. … Just as she knew he was one of the stronger titans in Doche (despite his… lacking stature) and she would need his cooperation to remain in a lofty position of safety. Inwardly, Vow recognized her obligation. He had allowed her to take her daughter back… and later (beneath the curtains of ‘obviousness‘) execute the male who had tempted her kin. A decent male he appeared. … But she trusted him like she trusted all others. She simply didn’t. She always felt as if he was up to something, always sensed that he was, in truth, predacious. He’d kill her just as soon as he’d talk to her. And she disliked that, even if she shared the mentality and ideas. Still, it was about time for them to ‘catch up on old times‘, wasn‘t it? She closed her eyes and heaved a breath, frowning a little as she wandered on. Her long legs kept the pace, and made the distance between here and there bearable. Such a long, dreary walk it was. From her lands of darkness and ash, to lands of death and decay. She ventured out now and again, but to say she had interest in the outside world was a lie. Shadow Brook was her lands, was her home, and was where she truly preferred to be. Despite the ugliness that was visible in the eyes of so many, the land was… It had it‘s beauty, it‘s loveliness. … Even if it was simply kept from view. Out of Cookies: Bad post, but a post. :/ Leaving it with Vow wandering around the land? |
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Post by Phoenix on Feb 7, 2010 18:10:59 GMT -5
touma
FOLLOW ME DOWN
and you should know that the
lies won't hide your flaws
no sense in hiding all of yours
you gave up on your dreams along the way
[/color]
It had far from put a damper on his day when he realized it was due time to return to the fields of death, decay, and a strange sense of peace. In fact, he rather enjoy these times. He hid less, hardly had to, and it was a relief from the constant act he put on. If the end of each of his games wasn't so fun, the act itself would be sickening to him. But it was fun, indeed, and the joy it gave him kept him going, even when the words that spilled out of his mouth nearly turned to vomit at the sweet, tender, caring sound in them. But these days, the days discussing the politics of an alliance of sorts(or, rather, an agreement), he could be terribly blunt. It was only her who knew at least a slight bit of who he was, though eve she didn't know how fully his mind was twisted.
These times always made him think of the first few years of their tentative relations. He had been new, but had established himself quickly with the help of a few stallions who he had undermined, drudged out their deepest, darkest secrets and held them against them. One had gone so far as to attempt to bring one of her daughters into his herd in the canyon. Touma had, of course, let him, just for the sake of amusement. However, when she had demanded her daughter back he had easily obliged. The stallion had gone downhill from there, though he had never been up to par in the first place. Touma had needed him gone, and although he would not have minded burning the stud to death he had allowed her to exact her revenge. He knew how sweet those acts of revenge could be, and, as a show of decent faith(he would never call it good, that was far too large a stretch), he had let her taste it. He smirked at the memory. It had only been then that they had gone further into an alliance, rather than just steering clear of each other when at all possible.
A soft snort exited his nostrils as he caught her scent. So this time it would be her here first. That was fine. His ears flickered, dancing their little dance as his mind played with the ways he could get inside her head if he wanted to. But that would be stupid. As it was, she held a third of the Noche Kingdom. Should that third fall to a stallion do to him taking her out, there would be a sort of chaos. He would much prefer to stay in this uneasy state of peace than risk a power monger who might try to take a second land -- His own. Touma knew he was at a disadvantage in a physical fight, though he could stand his own if needed. However, it made him prefer life the way it was. He picked up his pace slightly, nearing the mare who was oh so much taller, and nickering, though any sort of tenderness one might normally find in such a sound was lost on him. There was a devilish look in his eye, and this alone was a sort of release for him. He had pretended for too long lately. He needed this, and was grateful for it, though he'd never admit it, especially to her.
Vow.
There was no need for more than her name as a greeting, not his books. He was not one for pleasantries, not unless they were needed for his games and she was not one of his playthings. He doubted she, of all mares, ever would be. When it came to the mind, he had to admit, she was approximately his equal. He held himself in high regard, so this was a compliment of sorts, or it would be, if he chose to voice this. He didn't. He never had.
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Post by Good Rook on Feb 7, 2010 23:24:34 GMT -5
V O W [/font][/center] What did she think about him? She was uncertain. She viewed him as a competitor, as someone who would only be on her side for as long as she was useful. And yet she couldn’t fault him for that. … It was the same for her. She would use him, and his position and his herd, as she saw fit. … Until the point she could use them no longer, or simply had no need. Truth be known she did not mind his rule. He was respectful and he was mild in the ways that mattered. He kept his hounds on a leash, he minded her claims and she minded his. On occasion, women of her herd would wander into his lands. Willing gifts, to his men and himself. … And her own way of vicious manipulation. Men were a pathetic bunch. Love could make them do foolish things, make them pledge their loyalty to dangerous banners. Her women were sent there occasionally to remind of what ‘good’ things their alliance brought, not only politically to the heads of each herd, but to even the lowly members. Would those men fight against the women they had lay with, had bore a child with, had “desired”? Many men were not loyal to their Master, but to their own deep, dark desires. Women preyed on that. She, herself, had preyed on that and sent others to do so as well. Was the handsome Touma aware she was slowly infiltrating him? She wondered… and wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Matter of fact, the more she thought of it, the more she was certain of it. He knew which mares among his harem were truly her’s in guise. Not that he had to fret. … They were there for… ‘worst case situations’. As long as he played his role correctly, he needn’t worry his little head about it at all. Nosir. As long as he was decent, they would be the good whores they had been sent to be.
Whores. Vow had never liked the word, nor the occupation. It was degrading. Pathetic. Unnecessary. A woman ought to have dignity, pride, mind, manner. She shouldn’t be used and discarded. And yet, many atimes she was. Her body was used. Her mind was forgotten. And she was always discarded. It was sad, yet it was true, and now as she wandered into these dreary lands she thought on the idea for a prolonged amount of time. Would Touma change the conditions of their arrangement? Would he push for the exclusive idea that the males of his herd would be the ones used for breeding of this female one? She scoffed at the idea, and she scoffed at him… But she wouldn’t be surprised if eventually, that was what he’d attempt to bargain for. After all, wouldn’t that be lovely, organized, nice? A separate entity from the main herd of strong, harden folks, used simply for breeding and raising? And then the children would of course be taken and adopted into it’s Father’s herd. … Where it would grow and become strong and loyal to it’s Father’s Master. … That would be how she’d turn the tables, anyway, if she had been the male and he the wench. If she could have managed that, then she’d be clear on her way to monopolizing Doche under her reign. … And wouldn’t that be lovely? … It’d definitely put an end to things…
One daughter of her’s died in childbirth. The other two by her own hand. … Not even her harem forgot that. But especially not her enemies and friends alike. Her harem, Vow liked to think, atleast respected her actions. Those outside it? Oh, she doubted they saw it as anything but heartless murder. … If only they could have guessed how much she loved her daughters. If only they could have known how… it quite nearly disturbed her, their death. Amelia had died in Birth. Kris had died when she challenged for control of the Herd. Shawnee had died when she turned her back on her herd, had run off with that boy. Yes, it was Vow herself who had left her lands where she ruled as Queen and came to the Canyon lands demanding her daughter. And yes, it was Vow herself who dragged her daughter back. And yes… it was Vow who slew her own daughter for her crime. For no one was above the Law. … And no one could evade or avoid punishment. … Not even her own daughter. Her daughter had weakened Shadowbrook. Had spat on the Shadowbrook lands, name, and integrity. But even in the most cold of creatures, in the most wicked, vile, and hate-filled there was a sort of love to be found. Even as black as a heart may be… there was, indeed, a heart. And she loved her daughters. And hated the world and all those within it for their death. And there was nothing more dangerous than a bitter, angry woman. Or was there?
It was hard for her not to think of Shawnee, whenever she had to deal with the Canyon beings or Touma himself. It was a quiet, solemn association. One only heightened by their place in the dying lands. It was such a gripping place, but for all the wrong reasons. She could taste despair, longing, sadness on the wind. Could imagine all those who had wandered here for their death, alone, beaten, bested by a world that never cared. She could see that… and she could mock them for their idiocy, their weakness, their lacking qualities. They died because they hadn't the will, nor strength, to live. But she? Oh, she had will. And strength. And desire. And a thirst to not only live, but thrive. The world was hard and cold, but so was she. And she blossomed, even when all other beings withered. It was her way. And she didn't doubt, after all their years of tangled relationship, that Touma was that way as well. She hated to admit their likenesses. But they were there just the same to observant, analytical eyes. “Touma, my love, it’s been simply so long.” She heard his call, was well aware of his presence, and that was how she returned his introduction. He was coming from behind, a little to her left, so as she spoke she looked over her shoulder. Turning, slowing, and coming to face him. Her eyes dark enough, mild, and decent, and utterly unrevealing despite the nonsense she spoke. One could almost say she was sarcastic. But it was doubtful that she actually was. Sarcasm was petty. … And she wasn’t known for being a petty woman. “You’re well, I pray…?” He had never enjoyed how she acted, how she threw civility and courtesy and mannerisms at him… like she did so many. He was never satisfied with her sweet toned words and lukewarm friendliness. … And she was never tired of how he snapped at it, biting like a dog seeking a flea he simply couldn’t catch. Not that she didn't relish it. Being there, yet always out of his long reach? She smiled, her look pleasant and truly charming. Always 'just out of reach'. Ah, that suited her. The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. |
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Post by Phoenix on Feb 8, 2010 17:01:31 GMT -5
touma
FOLLOW ME DOWN
and you should know that the
lies won't hide your flaws
no sense in hiding all of yours
you gave up on your dreams along the way
[/color]
His ears began to steady out of their abnormal habit of flickering as she spoke. To a simpler mind, it would have been an amusement, to hear her voice fade in and out at different volumes due to the moving of their ears. However, Touma's mind was far from simple and the echoing sound simply drove him crazy. Or, would, if he bothered to try. He didn't. He knew he was bordering on insanity. Some would already call him insane. Perhaps he was. Delusional, no, but simply crazy would be a plausible explanation of his games. The games that ended so badly for so very many. A faint smirk traced his features at the thought of that. Being called crazy, insane, a mental case, especially by his own thoughts, now that amused him. However, he had better pay attention, and he knew it. Before she slipped some term in that he didn't hear and unknowingly agreed to, even though they had not quite gotten to business yet.
Rather bored on occasion, but well enough. And you, darling dominatrix?
There was a bitter-sweet tone to his voice, as there often was in their greetings. He meant no harm by calling her a dominatrix. After all, she was a woman and she was in charge. It was a rather relevant term to apply, and he had done so before, so it would hardly surprise her. In fact, he would not be surprised if it vaguely amused her. However, he was beginning to notice how long he had been 'undercover', so to speak. He was being much more polite than normal. It was difficult to purposely let loose when it was not the end of a game, and this certainly did not fit that scenario.
He raised his head a little higher, feeling rather tiny in comparison. Almost bordering on inadequate, though his mind would never go that far. He thought to highly of himself to feel that lowly, especially next to a mare, even one with power and spirit and... height. A touchy subject with him, but he could refrain from snapping if the situation required tender handling. He had made sure to never use the word 'belittle' in relation to himself, too. There were far to many who would make the connection, and he was not one who wanted to snap. It would result in a messy kill, and he hated them too messy. Let too much to chance, and the clean up was a bitch.
His mind wandered for a moment, touching on various topics that they would discuss, but never staying on one long. He would not waste his concentration too early, or else he would never make it through this diplomatic talk. Albeit, it wasn't the most diplomatic situation, nor was he good at any sort of diplomacy, but he tried and he knew when to say no, when to push matters, and when to compromise. He just wasn't graceful at all about it, like some could be. He was always blunt, to the point, and rather harsh at times with his words, but he got the points across and he knew that she didn't care how smooth it seemed. Either way they managed, somehow, to work something out each time, and that was what mattered in the end.
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