Le convoco

[Deux Épées]

Strong, deliberate strides brought the bronc of obsideon into the terra of so called "peace", paper thins flaring as his rolling three-beat caused deep breaths. The sod beneath the hessian was of mucky substance, the snow melting away to leave nothing but a brown coating on the dead grasses, disgusting. Every time he thrust a hoof down it splashed the slightest bit and slipped a quarter of an inch. His strides were steady and were not affected by this, though he made a point to remember the conditions about him, he always did before engaging in any games that were more then.....sensible. He was here to summon Kye, the light king, his mortal enemy for as long as he had been Dark King. Who knows what he'd do with Kye, he knew both he and the light king were immortal, which sort of defeated the purpose of killing him. A scowl emerged on the facial expression of the hessian, plume to swish in annoyance. d**n that. He would have to cause pain and agony and sort it all out that way, just enough, just enough for anything, for Kye. Dear, dear, lovable Kye. It's just too bad Kye had an adversary as he, who actually was working to defeat the lights. A snort emmitted, nares quivering. Chocolate had just sat on his butt and done nothing, he had heard that once he had attempted to rally troops, but all the darks had scorned him, pity, pity. this was the new revolution, the new dark lord, the new dark queen, the new destiny that he and Ebra would help the darks fulfill. Ahh, yes, Ebra. A moment of softness wafted by the hardened bruthen, his furious expression worn without anger for a split second, Ebra Ebra. Soon there would be another foal, the process had once again been put into gear. What would Fajera think? And Pierre? What would become of the throne? If all turned out right after this little play then Deux wondered if he should retire, resign from the throne. He knew he could hold it for as long as he needed, but he knew fresh blood would be saught by the darks, he knew that it would get old, and the darks he would not allow to grow weak, heedless to whether he was dark king or not.


Pierre, ahh Pierre. Would he take the throne after he? Would he and Fajera rule after he and Ebra? Indeed they would do well, though he knew they would need to overcome a few difficultys. Even so, he had no doubt it would all pass and they would figure it out swiftly enough. Whatever would happen with Ebra though? If he resigned, that was. Would she resign as well? Or would she continue until she was done, and then join him. He wouldn't have to leave the royal lands, he could stay as part of the harem, to guide the new Dark king and to watch over those residing in there now. Eventually they would be able to wander away, for there was no doubt the new royals would want their space. But he would lag for a while, seeing as he had spent most of his life in that land, though in a way it would be nice for a change. Perhaps he would search for a different land other then EquuSoul? With Ebra or without? There were so many questions unanswered, he needed to discuss. Ahh, but back on topic. Pounding strides were slowed, and after a while, brought back to a halt, haunches sinking as he pulled his bulk to a stop in the center of the terra. Forehand was thrown skyward, rearing up, forepillars flailing as a scream emmitted. As he landed a somewhat amused expression was worn.

I've always wanted to do that

he said to himself. Cochlea wavered atop his cerebrum, searching for anything out of place, finding none he snorted, serpentine jerking his poll up as he shifted along the topography in a rather excited pattern, his words of summoning to be heard.

Oh blessed lord Kye, I summon you to this ever so peaceful plains, though perhaps we should change the name after we're done with it, ne?

mocking words were tossed out, the hessian to calm slightly with his anxious temperment, eager thoughts to be supressed. All in good time, all in good time.

[pierre]

[[[[kye]]]

<sup>graceful strides set the rouge hues into the deep offset of the spring view, scythes slipping somewhat before the desired destination with the previous rain's wake. gaze had glazed over darkly, landing boldly over deux. the ebony sheered figure that lay just steps before him. the dark lord, the cursed one. so pitiful he was, too dull to see where he would have done better. deux, that deux. he would have made a better light, but he was blind. he went to the darks, banished himself into mere nothingness.flamed banner slapped across the spine's outskirts, the damp strands welping the flesh. mirrors flashed a dazzling gleam, watching the opponent idley. "speak." the curt words had flown coolly from the parted kissers reluctantly, steps to progress the mustang stud closer to deux. russet hyde had been overcoated by a deeper color, similar to a liver chestnut, with the damp perspiration. the trip had its toll, though much energy lay with him. who knew what could happen. fores struck impatiently at the below bedding, disgusted already by the presence of his fellow immortal. moyen had just returned, and she needed tending to. fajera and pierre had taken their advantage over her, and it was done. she was back in his care, and she called him home. "faster mongrel, I haven't the time to spare with you." the statement had been finished, chilling tones ringing variously. auds had been glued down tightly to the aperature, emotion vacant for the time.

almost wary grunts had been given off, still unsure why he had returned the call of deux. why had deux wanted him here? some sort of plot must have been in play, he was sure, otherwise the calling out was pointless..meaningless. no, there was something deux wanted, he craved it. the hungry depths of his heartless eyes gave everything away. "what do you want?" kye had nearly bellowed, on the verge of becoming outraged by such childish games. there was no overpowering one another for the time being, for they were not within the proper grounds. it was more than power deux was after though, no? surely, or else his challenge would have been laid down within the battling fields. or maybe he was just that brainless. pillars had taken movement beneath the bodice, though he hadn't budged. surly glances were thrown against the trees, keeping alert for any signs of deux's...reign. deux's resources were nearly unlimited, kye knew this, and so he did his best to keep watch for any sort of surprise. muscular boa had been set upright in an almost regal arch, though he still hadn't extended to the height of deux. a large stud he was, though not near as tall as the obsidian one. long strides had been taken, stepping away from the cursed steed before muzzle was protruded into the distance, nares flashing before he had settled once more. mind games it was, it had to be. deux wouldn't have invited kye for tea.

chestnut canvas had twittered quite a bit against the howling winds, bits of leaves and other things snapping at his every inch. twigs had become intertwined within the plume, marking his stunning beauty. a natural glow cascaded from the inner bevels, short nickers escaping the straining diaphragm as only mere whispers. vocals were kept short, hoarsely snaking over to the fellow lord. no, deux wasn't any lord. he was a master, given to his race to literally dictate them. all of his kind, trapped under his rule. no freedom. occuli had taken on a bluish color, boredom following. there was nothing in these lands that he found of his liking, nor did he take kindly to leaving his home with Class and Moyen. his beloved little pair, though soon one of them would be leaving. his baby dove would finally take flight, leave his wing. moyen. such a beautiful youth, though scars of fajera and pierre marked her curiousity with a steaming brand. thoughts had nearly seized capabilities, gaze falling rebelliously over deux. let's go.</sup>

[pierre]

[[[pierre]]]

<sup>chasms had rolled in an annoyed manner as the visions of kye had slowly crept into his visiage. deux had appeared to be waiting for kye long before, though now neither knew of pierre's presence. obsidian locks hurdled over the crest with the breezing winds, creating movement of his aromas. steady pace was chosen as he had slowly descended after kye, entering the small opening deux had chosen. aye, you may not have the time to spare for deux, but I believe you'll have the time for me....or shall we make the time? words departed harshly, every last note dripping with a searing venomous tune. he had grown quite agitate with kye, no matter how scarce he had seen him. the bronc was simply retarded, and he would be punished. immortal or not, he would see. his eyes would be opened, and pain would be introduced. true, kye could kill pierre, but that would never happen. kye would go before pierre. and that was simply that. indeed the blessed king shared immortality, but the gods never envied him for that. no. the gods envied he. pierre. say the name..over and over. remember it, for it shall come back to haunt you. forever. chuckles had rattled the cage heartily, fores jostling to strike only once at the rouge stud's flank. he wanted to play a game..no..he wanted to murder. and kye was chosen for his victim. even though he wouldn't really die, he would wish it. yes, when pierre was through with him, kye would only stand on wobbly knees and beg him for mercy.

I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep,
Ain't gonna breath till i see what i wanna see,
and what I wanna see is you go to sleep in the dirt,
permanently,
you ain't just bein hurt..

regarding such distasteful situation with revolting remorse, a fore swung at the thin lined ribs of the rouge colored bronc, striking only easily at first. blood was seen, though in lowly mists. chasms sparkled with devious mischief, banner slapping at the cage bitterly, brutally knocking against kye afterwards. glare had softened somewhat, watching deux closer. ah, he had been pleased, he knew this. deux had known all along about pierre's firey resentment against the blessed lord. no..not a lord. a begging mutt at the end of his rope, and soon enough that rope would disappear. his throne would disappear. sharp whimper was given in greeting to the fatherly figureen of deux, striding harshly to the bronc. loud blows were given through the nasal paths at every hard-taken stride, mug bumping into deux's blade as he had wheeled to face kye once more, though this time he stood at deux's side. "you have no idea." and as for Kye, the poor thing hadn't known at all what was brewing in his very own home. what would be taken from him. masculine rattling had aroused in the closest depth of the trachea, sending out hoarse tones to the flame kissed brute afront. chuckles of a menacing tone had been given, all in mock of this so called lord. cord had flickered over the haunches of Deux, affirming his ready. Kye would soon be begging, and for that particular reason the youthly obsidian had began more and more eager.

as far as i can see,
i dont ever see us coming to terms where we can agree,
and we gonna beef and keep on beefin unless,
you're gonna agree to meet with me in the flesh,
and settle this face face,
and you gonna see,
a demon unleashed in me you ain't never seen.

grunts and snorts were spared from the vocals, severe wash of rage nearly blowing the plot to pieces. he had restrained himself for the years, and in only a few moments he would let everything go. everything. kye no longer held any source of respect in pierre's view, but moreso as a helpless peasant, one who no one wanted around. he was worthless in his eyes, and he always would be. just a short time before he had been peacefully at grace with his cherished mate, the two had been chatting frequently of the seasons to come. fajera had said things to him, assuring him a good foal. every word that touched the prospects of their newborn-to-come dug into him, spiraling into the hard shell of pierre, sneaking into the softer core. pierced his heart like a dagger. nothing more could possibly bring him more pride than a foal by fajera, though defeating his so called sire, the blessed lord, would perhaps be close. kye was simply repulsive, disgusting. their ways were so chipper, so..upity. how did those mutts ever live?! though the ink dipped stud had smelled faintly of femenine fumes from the mate, pierre was sure his raging hatred could be analyzed through the smells. kye just hadn't caught on, had he thought they invited him for tea? mm mm, stupid stupid kye. you haven't a clue. pity.</sup>

[/sup][/right]

[Deux Épées]

Cochlea flicked back to lay down atop his poll as the hessian of obsideon sighted the rougen bronc. Kye. The blessed lord had come. A smirk fondled Deux's finely molded maw in disgust, but also with amusement for he knew he held the upper hand here, as much as Kye hated it. Tsk, tsk, naughty Deuxy. He watched as the crimson figurine slowly grew more apparent, through clarity, for his enemy's color had been noticable against the foliage of green for quite some time now. He could see Kye's reluctance to be here as he drew up to him, because his eyes had a certain bit of disgust in them which always told the tale of resentment. Ah, but what was he to expect? Kye was his enemy, ne? So of course he would resent him. But Deux did not resent the light lord in return, nay, he adored the little rouge infact, but in a morbid sense. He loved having Kye around to tease, to taunt, to mock, and to harm, mentally....until now. Kye's words rang out with the cold tone he had been expecting, but Deux remained silent, his gaze drifting idly over the light king's shoulder as he watched Pierre approach. Kye hadn't caught Pierre's arrival yet it seemed, and he could feel the impatience radiating from the light lord, more urgent as the silence lengthened. Deux could feel his unease, his warily tensed state as he couldn't exactly think of what Deux had summoned him for. Oh dear, dear Kye, if only you knew. You'll wish you'd never come, you'll wish you'd never even heard of me, of Ebra, of Pierre and Fajera, of the darks. Your life is about to be torn down, but we'll do it slow, that way you can watch as each thing you care about is taken away, either by death, or by confiscation. It's like we the darks are the big bad wolf, and your the little big who has spent so long making your house, your life, and all of a sudden we come and blow down everything before you. But this time there isn't a happy ending like there is in the story, this is reality, not the content of paper pages, nono, this is true, this is your demise. We are both immortals, but that does not mean we cannot feel pain. You resent pain, I merely dislike it, this is why I am a dark, this is why you are a light. I've tried to explain it to you, do you see it now? Can you feel yourself grow afraid? You should...it's only natural. Words erupted from the Dark Lord's maw, but his sight was directed away from Kye, watching Pierre be hidden, though he watched him slowly emerge.

No need to worry Kye, none of my subjects will be surrounding here, it's just you, me, and Pierre.

Mug curled into a rather distasteful smile, disturbingly buoyant occuli flicking his gaze to look Kye straight in his own gaze. A threat? Perhaps. But more like a warning. The ebon steed did nothing as Pierre bullied Kye around, he had known it would all boil down to this, Pierre had slowly grown to resent Kye, and his darkness had been nurtured quite enough with the influence of the royals, and he had to admit, Pierre was quite a good pupil. Low chuckles emerged, words to once more pour from bidding lips.

Have you checked your loved ones lately, Kye?

[pierre]

[[kye]]

<sup>short grunts were given in almost surprising tones, nearly startled by the unexpected arrival of the dark prince, or whatever his ranking be now. no, surely pierre was of the prince lines by now, seeing how deux had practically fathered him since his birth. eager passages of notes were strung out hoarsely, harli flickering wildly to catch the words of the two darklings, shudders sent down the spine at every syllable. not of fear, but of regret. he shouldn't have fallen for such a trick, but he did, and he had landed in a death trap. chasms had followed the darth figure of pierre, slowly wondering about without aim, his words stinging every inch. oh pathetic ones, I haven't the time for such games. pierre; the time has been made, and now i give a few moments to you. use it wisely. what do you want?words had remained calm, though somewhere deeper was anxiety. he wanted out of the lands, to get back to Class and Moyen, what ever had become of the pair while he was away. the tension had seized slowly, leaving him somewhat confused. his home was vulnerable, extremely. and deux had 'subjects' who would love to take advantage of his precious harem, no? of course. shrill screams were heard as the precious subject tore into the dark lord's statement..he had done something with class and moyen..or something to them. it wouldn't stand.

harsh calls were ushered from the mug, rage flying through the bronc as never before, concerned for the ones he loved so dearly searing within the heart as a firey passion was lit. "What have you done?! he bellowed, on the verge of shrieking at the awful figures before him..the heartless figures. the figures who's souls would be d**ned for eterny, though no sympathy would ever be held for them. let them rot. in the dirt, cold and limp. a fierce expression lay over the facade, a hard look of stone cast into the recipe of his mood. slick hues were gleaming, a twist of the facials bringing horror to every sign of his feelings. what had they done with his beloved pair? what could they have done?! harsh tones were spat into the clearing, waiting for any explanation the two had to offer. this meant business, and something much more. class and moyen had nothing to do with what went on between pierre, kye, and deux..even though they held positions. glare had descended over the ghastly pair of obsidians, impatiently waiting for their remarks.</sup>

done. shortly.

[Fajera]

Waiting for a better day
Or some hour without clouds
Or am I waiting for something else
Something like you
And nothing else...

And she's been waiting for you
Can you not see,
Poor blind man?
She desires only one
And lucky you,
Recieving this prize

Let her breath
Keep her free
Time is wasting
As is she...

~

Stuck. A word to describe but one. One left in the dust, yes? It was so true. Sick and true, though a fighter was one, and one would fight until the end. The end of a mental life, of course. A thick thud could be heard within the wood which surrounded the Peaceful Plains, acting as a barrier for all of it's peace in whole. This barrier was kind, and Fajera actually took to it. Because of this barrier, in her own mind, there was able corruption in her own world, and both fear and pain almost everywhere, not just peace. Though her reason for leaving the un-paradise like area of Dyani? To follow after Pierre as if his petty little puppy upon a foul string. And she was just that, at the moment. A short shrill fell from the muzzle of she, like gravity pulling down a rock after it had taken flight. Clumsy, she was growing, and sad it was, though she kept her steady pace, dying just to see the face of her own mate once more, and hope it wouldn't be something to harm her thought. He was ok, yes? There would be no bloodshed... Yet. These were all hopes, though her real knowledge of this whole plot was fading away, as was the rest of her own brain. Funny it was how without Pierre at her side, everything else seemed to bland and serving no purpose, her own body just going numb without need. [- Breakdown - ]

~

A short breath had regained the belle's strength, muscles beginning to collect as well as she had taken back a more normal position upon the turf, and began to roll forth with a tempo once more. The thorns apon her own poll were beginning to twitch with vague interest, though she was only allowing one thing to run across her mind; scamper quickly past. Pierre... She groaned with the thought of the stunning black, her pace beginning to increase with fluidity as she sprung forth with need to just see him, and the hidden and devious charm he held. Anything, she would give... Anything. [Anything, I tell you.]

~

And with such thoughts, she had stumbled with the quickened pace once more, dome bobbing as she was much more swift to catch her fault and prepare herself for the journey, again. The plumage licked her flanks as she stumbled on forth, the larger barrel softly swinging from side to side with her eagerness, a hungry rumble to echo from branch to branch, and then to the next. Her muscles began to layer over eachother, and her bodice more hunched and round, everything seeming to have grown; even the passion, though that was obviously hidden. The irons left the topography beneath for the last time, apex swinging from side to side with the image of Pierre burned into her own vision. Pierre, Pierre... She groaned once more, hesitantly stepping forth, though collecting all step and keeping watch over the stallion from a hill above. From her observations, she took in many facts, and filled in the rest of her ideas. There was Kye, she assumed, actually never have seeing him, her father, and then Pierre... A torn son. Fajera lurched forth somewhat, eavesdropping on all she could with a grim expression upon her facade, which was now burried into the thick patch of stalks before her. She planned to multi-task. To be a new mother, meant collecting all feed she could, and with the Peaceful Plains having more foliage than the deserts of Dyani, she would take advantage by being greedy with consumation. The tendrils of the vixen were whirling over her thick and muscular boa, her gaze not lifting from the regal figure of Pierre as she fed hungrily, just watching... Waiting, and hoping he would be alright. [Time will tell us the fate.]

~

Hear me now
I'm calling on these torn and bloody knees
Crying out in silence
And waiting for an echo of my plea


OOC: Very museless, but I couldn't help myself. Just ignore Fajera if you like, though. It is fall, so she will be foaling soon... (In late winter, I think.)